The Barcelona Marathon

Sunday eventually rolled around and I was awake at 5am without assistance. By 7:30 we were walking to the Metro station and collecting a growing number of fellow runners coming out of the Sunday morning woodwork. It was kind of like a Cyndi Lauper video without the singing and dancing.

I had rather optimistically registered myself in the 3 - 3.5 hour group, so I was able to start within 25 meters of the official start line. This, along with my rangy physique, allowed me to make out the 'elite' (professional) runners as they pranced and frolicked comfortably at the front of the pack. This was the last I would see of them...

There are pacemakers for difference target times. My game plan was to stay behind the 3:30 hour pacemaker. All pacemakers have a helium balloon tied to their backs showing their time. Unfortunately, the 3:30 pace was popular and I wasn't able to get very close to him. Curiously, the 3:15 pacemaker started significantly further back in the pack.

The morning was perfect. There was a clear sky and the starting temperature felt to be about 58 F. I felt well rested and ready to start.

It was about 30 seconds after the start gun that I crossed the start line. My 3:30 hour balloon got away from me. There was considerable traffic that prevented me from efficiently catching the balloon. I naturally start a long run slowly. So I let the balloon go and concentrated on my own pace.

The Barcelona Marathon is a relatively small marathon for a major city. It was Sunday morning and much of the course was spectator free. It was relaxing to run a comfortable pace hearing only the wafting sounds other runners' feet as they roll over the ground at the same frequency as yours.

Somewhere near 10 km I heard something that caught my attention. It was Chi. She was in a great spot holding the camera. I waved and waited to see her take a picture only to realize she was filming a video instead. I expected to see her numerous other occasions throughout the course, but didn't. (She played catch-up the rest of the race...and lost)

The next two hours or so were a blur. We ran by a few sites including the Sagrada Familia (Goudi Cathedrale). But I cannot account for was I was thinking during this time.

At 25 km I found my friend the 3:30 pace balloon. (I never saw what the actual person looked like.) I still felt fine. I found myself naturally approaching the balloon. Luckily, my brain took over and reminded my legs of the plan: Stay behind the 3:30 pacemaker until after the 32 km. So I slowed and placed myself 10 meters behind the 3:30 crowd.

Next thing I know it is 32 km. I still feel good and decide to pass the balloon. At 33 km I am still trying to pass the balloon and its entourage. But the course is making some jogs which would force me to go way off the optimal line if I were to pass. Eventually, the course straightens and I get through the mass.

The next next two kilometers are ok, but it's getting tough. This is no longer a Sunday morning jog.

At 37 km I know the area. It is the Gothic district where we are staying. I know it's getting close to the end but it's getting very difficult. Additionally, there is a grade forcing you to go uphill.

As I exit the Gothic district I am desperately looking for km markers. I remember seeing the 38 km marker ages ago. So where is the next one? There should be more markers. They didn't set this course very well...I was losing my mental grasp of the situation.

Then in the distance, seemingly 1 km away, I see the towers of the start/finish. I tell myself that I can make it. I could see the finish.

Then...what's this?!! We're making a right? We aren't running directly to the towers?! At this point I am getting angry. I'm angry at the course organizers. How can they do this? Do they know what is like to see the finish and then get re-routed? At this point I think I was cursing to myself out loud. (In hindsight, I wish Chi was there to confirm this behavior. That would be a funny video)

At this point I am still running with some sort of terrible form, but running nonetheless. Then, another blow: the 40 km marker. WHAT! Another 2.4 km. This course is ridiculous...someone should pay for this.

Then I see an inflatable arch presumably marking the end. No, it's only the 41 km. Then another heartbreak, another arch...just the 42 km. The final 200 meters was flailing and grunting. 10 meters from the finish the official clock rolls over 3:30. My body involuntarily gives a futile lunge to turn back the clock before I realize that I started 30 seconds after the clock. I had actually finished in less than 3:30h. 3:29:15 to be exact.