Only a fraction of a percentage of people in the world have finished a full 26.2 mile marathon. After joining that exclusive club this past Friday at the Tel Aviv Marathon, I now understand why the number is so low. The weeks of preparation are time consuming and from the moment you start until a couple of days after you cross the finish line, your whole body is sore. Ever since Philippides, the Greek messenger, ran from the Battle of Marathon to Athens, yelled “nenikēkamen” (“we have won!”), in 490 BCE, before collapsing and dying, there have been many injuries, and even some fatalities, while attempting to run this distance, simply because the human body is not meant to run that far. So knowing all of this, why did I sign up? To be honest, I do not know.
During my breaks in yeshiva I would run a couple of times a week to clear my head and stay active. As the runs got longer, I thought about signing up for the Jerusalem half marathon. Being my competitive self, I decided that I knew too many people who have completed half marathons, but I did not know that many people who were able to say that they ran 26.2 miles. I could run four miles with ease so can 22 be that much harder? Spoiler: it is that much harder. So on a whim, I signed up for the full TLV Marathon.
The race was on February 28, so on February 1, with only four weeks to go, I began to clock in some serious weekly mileage (a bit late to start). I also began adjusting my diet to get used to the foods that would fuel me for the longer runs. I would usually listen to music, but I’d get bored sometimes, so I listened to shiurim or the Hamilton soundtrack.
Within no time, it was the week of the marathon and I was not adequately prepared. My running shoes were torn up, I did not have good shorts, and I was unsure if I had trained enough. After a long week of anxiously waiting, I took the train down to Tel Aviv on Thursday afternoon where I stayed at a friend’s apartment. I read somewhere that the day before you’re supposed to “carbo-load” so I had a bunch of bagels and noodles and candy. Again, I really did not have much guidance and was most likely doing it all wrong.
I popped in a sleeping pill at 7:30 p.m. and woke up at 3:30 a.m., so that I could be out by 4 a.m.. I was nervous that all of the roads would be closed and it would take two hours to get there (even though the ride was only 30 minutes), but I was wrong and I ended up waiting at the start area for two extra hours. It was set up like a carnival with all sorts of running games and concession stands for spectators. I walked around the carnival area, wolfing down a protein bar and Skittles for breakfast. Finally, at 6:40 a.m., after I checked in my bags, put on my bib (#1190) and tied my race chip to my shoe laces, I headed out to the start line with all the other full marathon runners. I squeezed to the front of the crowd so that I did not need to shuffle past people during the first mile. The 3:30 pacer was right next to me and I, much too confidently, told him that I would be with him the entire time. There was a DJ blasting music and at 7 a.m., the five second countdown began, followed by a big horn. Then we were off.
I was hoping to run a consistent eight minute mile throughout the entire race in order not to burn out and finish in three hours and 30 minutes. But the crowds and the music got my adrenaline up and I finished my first mile seven minutes after the starting horn. Maybe this was going to be easier than I thought. The first 10 miles were going great. The majority of it was along the Tayelet and I was way ahead of the 3:15 pacer. The entire beach was lined with kids and adults clapping and yelling “kol hakavod!” At one of the Powerade stations I grabbed a cup on the run and thinking it was water, splashed my face, which consequently burned my eyes. But I had to keep going. At the halfway mark, all the way south by Jaffa Port at around 13.1 miles, there was a huge school of kids blowing whistles and cheering. It most likely slowed me down, but as I ran by I high fived all of them with a huge smile. At various points throughout the remainder of the run there were big schools of little kids cheering and giving chizuk, which was very much needed in order for me to keep pushing.
The main reason a marathon is so difficult is because of the last six to eight miles. This is due to basic biology. At around the 18-20 mile mark, the body is fully depleted of its glycogen levels, which is when almost every marathon runner, “hits the wall.” This is when racers faint and are taken off the course for medical attention. As much as I wanted to drop to the floor and give up, I closed my eyes and pushed through step by step until the feeling of wanting to faint passed. As soon as I opened my eyes my right calf started cramping to the extent that I was able to see the muscles pulsating. I hobbled for a couple of steps until my left leg decided to copy my right leg and began to cramp. I realized that with seven miles left, the pain was inevitable and I just had to keep running. I passed people bleeding through their shirts, grown men crying in pain on the floor, but I needed to keep my pace up. My legs were cramping up more than ever, but every time I slowed down I’d either get a pat on the back by another runner to keep it up or a spectator would cheer me on to keep going. For the last seven miles, every step was difficult. Somewhere around mile 22 the 3:15 pacer passed me and in the second to last mile the 3:30 pacer passed by. When I finally saw the finish line, I sprinted to the end down the green carpet and into the tent.
My first goal was to finish the marathon alive, my second goal was to finish under four hours, and my final goal was to finish in the 3:30s. With a recorded time of 3:38:35, I accomplished all of them. On to the next challenge: triathlon?
Jonno Rosen is a talmid at Yeshivat Hakotel and an aspiring ben Torah who is taking a long hiatus from running. Stay tuned for his next update after completing the Tour de France in the future.
By Jonno Rosen
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