{"id":29304,"date":"2018-10-01T18:57:14","date_gmt":"2018-10-01T22:57:14","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.runkevinrun.com\/?p=29304"},"modified":"2018-10-01T18:57:14","modified_gmt":"2018-10-01T22:57:14","slug":"october-1-2018-the-hans-christian-andersen-hca-marathon-recap","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/runkevinrun.com\/?p=29304","title":{"rendered":"October 1, 2018 \u2013 The Hans Christian Andersen (HCA) Marathon Recap"},"content":{"rendered":"

I had a bad feeling about this race.<\/p>\n

I don\u2019t know if it came about in the 45-minute walk from my AirBNB to the start line.\u00a0 It was a brisk morning and I was bundled up in an Australia sweatshirt that I was going to throw into my bag and check at the finish.\u00a0 Sure, the gusty wind that whistled through the Odense streets cut through and chilled me to the bone\u2026 \u00a0but I\u2019ve been colder before.\u00a0 And it wasn\u2019t that I arrived ridiculously early, as frankly I so often do for races.\u00a0 I only know that while I was leaning against a pillar in the heated hallway of the stadium waiting for the start, a steady flow of Danes arrived, seemingly cheering each other on, family members hugging and kissing loved ones in encouragement as they prepared to brave the running challenge, be it 10K, half marathon, or full distance.\u00a0 Rightly so, it was all Danish all the time, with no English to be found.\u00a0 I\u2019m not good in groups anyway but this whole thing had a cacophonous noise to it, an overwhelming Phil Spector-ian wall of sound that made me feel like the walls were closing in.<\/p>\n

I decided to head to the start line early, to breathe the open air, to acclimate to the chill of the morn with goose pimples making the hairs on my extremities stand on end, and to try and find solace in solitude to mentally psych myself up\u2026 when in fact I seemed to have psyched myself out.\u00a0 I had something of a low-grade panic attack, the feeling of a boulder pressed against my chest, constricting the flow of oxygen from my lungs.\u00a0 On top of that I felt like a heavy anchor had been wrapped about my feet.\u00a0 While I stood in the corral, one of the first to arrive, I spotted various groups getting in some warm-up distances before the race (a process I\u2019ve never quite understood \u2013 we\u2019re going to be running soon enough and far enough for me).\u00a0 I knew today was going to be a tough day.<\/p>\n

As the crowds gathered in the corral, filling up space, runners jockeying for a few extra paces closer to the line, I felt jostled and bumped and at times shoved aside.\u00a0 I\u2019m not sure if there were Danish apologies made, an \u201cexcuse me\u201d or a \u201csorry about that\u2026.\u201d\u00a0 There didn\u2019t seem to be any words spoken, just actions.\u00a0 I don\u2019t know if European personal space bubbles are perhaps tighter than what I\u2019m accustomed to as an American or if I was doing something wrong or if I was being overly sensitive.\u00a0 But I did find myself uncomfortable in the crowd.<\/p>\n

I tried though to shrug it all off, to smile and laugh, to fake it and thus to trick myself into a brighter outlook and mood.\u00a0 We all put on a mask now and again, a shiny, happy face that sometimes\u2026 sometimes\u2026 becomes reality in the telling.\u00a0 But all too often it\u2019s just a dodge, an attempt to hide from the reality.\u00a0 Today\u2019s reality was a struggle.\u00a0 And it got worse as the day wore on.<\/p>\n

My legs and body and soul all were tired before the race even started.\u00a0 And I don\u2019t know if it was psychological or physiological symptom that I was feeling light headed and had trouble staying in a straight line; I seemed to be wavering and weaving as one made with wine.\u00a0 I admit to having a small glass with a bowl of pasta the night before\u2026 but that had been more than 12 hours prior.\u00a0 Perhaps I was dehydrated, a common enough occurrence.\u00a0 But with my inability to catch my breath due to the metaphorical boulder clutched to my chest, I couldn\u2019t rule out anything.<\/p>\n

The race itself was a two-loop endeavor, a route redirected and redrawn due to the myriad construction projects going on in Odense.\u00a0 There were far more folks out cheering on the first loop, no doubt there to support a half-marathoner they knew.\u00a0 By the second lap, it had grown quieter and lonelier on the course, even with fellow marathoners surrounding me.\u00a0 As I would stumble to a halting pace, they would shout what I presume to be words of encouragement.\u00a0 But I didn\u2019t know how to respond.\u00a0 I tried to find the words to say, \u201cI\u2019m trying\u2026\u201d and yet I don\u2019t know if that was comprehensible through my wheezing.\u00a0 Eventually I think I gleaned that \u201ctak\u201d was a Danish \u201cthank you\u201d and I tried to say that to volunteers along the way.\u00a0 But truly this was a race that though there were others about, I was very much alone.\u00a0 A marathon I\u2019ve often said is an incredibly personal endeavor done in the most supportive communal atmosphere imaginable.\u00a0 But there are times when no matter the size or enthusiasm of the crowd, you are just within a uniquely individualistic struggle.<\/p>\n

I had one of those days where I knew I was faltering and there wasn\u2019t anything to be done.\u00a0 A pipe dream was that I wanted to see if I could somehow make a BQ time\u2026 not even the new 2020 cutoff but the apparently \u201call-too-easy\u201d time of 3:15.\u00a0 Running the numbers as I ran the race, I knew this was beyond a pipe dream \u2013 it was a fool\u2019s quest.\u00a0 But I still held out hope to beat my time from the previous race.\u00a0 And yet, somewhere around mile 20 I was passed by the pacer that meant I had no chance of doing that either. I got passed by a lot of people as the kilometer markers clicked by.\u00a0 If I\u2019m reading the stats correctly at the race\u2019s end, I wound up being passed by well over 200 people.\u00a0 I think all in there were about 1500 marathoners.\u00a0 It was a disheartening experience, a rolling sense of failing that just left me feeling ever more panicked\u2026 and ever more disappointed in myself.<\/p>\n

There is more to be said about all this and indeed the weeks in Europe before, something I hope will help provide context and insight into what\u2019s been happening.\u00a0 But before I get to that, as is tradition on RunKevinRun marathon recaps, here\u2019s a photo gallery of the race:<\/p>\n