An Incondite Adventure: November 2018

In 490 BC, Persians landed at the Marathon plain with the intention of attacking through to Athens. Heavily outnumbered, the Athenians waged battle and against all odds, emerged victorious. As the legend has it, a messenger named Pheidippides was dispatched to cover the roughly 25 miles that lie between Marathon and Athens. He covered the distance on foot, and arriving at the Acropolis, announced "Nenikikamen" (Rejoice, we conquer) and dropped dead.

Of course, this legend is riddled with skepticism as I have long known as a runner and have further confirmed after a visit to Greece. It is almost certain that Pheidippides did exist - he was a hemerodromos: a military member trained to run long distances and deliver messages. It was, after all, the 5th century BC. Every indication was that another runner delivered the news of victory in Marathon. Whether he dropped dead or not is unknown, but it adds a certain flare to the story now, doesn't it? In the meantime, we should not discount Pheidippides who is said to have run from Marathon to Athens to Sparta in an effort to rally the Spartans to come to the aid of the Athenians. When it was clear that they would not reach Marathon in time, Pheidippides turned and ran back to inform the Athenians (a round trip of 300 miles in about 4 days) who lead the charge. It is in his honor of this journey that the Spartathlon was created. Read Dean's account of it here.

Either way, this folktale is why we, today, run the marathon and why I am sitting on the cold track of the Marathon town stadium, a short bus ride from Athens, Greece. We will (roughly) retrace the route run by the messengers to Athens. The course itself is unimpressive; it runs between two iconic stadiums but every bit of it is just a paved suburban highway. Historic sites are off the path and the hilltops and valleys could be many places. But it is the novelty we seek: paying homage to the original route that started this madness. For me, it will be my 75th open (non-ultra, non-Ironman) full marathon. It is a loose milestone, not like 50 or 100, but the 75th has a bit of a draw.

On the way to Marathon for the marathon with the Ropers

Marathon Stadium - pre-race

We almost didn't make it here. Our plan was to do some white-water rafting and trekking in Nepal. All plans were made, but in September, I felt the marathon calling again, and decided to make a trip of it. Never have I planned such an endeavor so close to the date. Our travels took us first to Athens and immediately up to the ancient site of Delphi. Feta cheese, pork souvlaki, tzatziki, and wine fueled our travels. We then flew to beautiful Santorini for more indulgence. Seafood, wine tasting, horse riding, and hot tubs occupied our time. Back to Athens for a tour of the Acropolis. Running was rough: short jaunts with huge climbs and descents. We walked everywhere, adding many miles to the legs. But this trip was more about the run. It was about seeing an amazing country that should be on most anyone's bucket list.

Red Beach

The view from our lodging

Sunset on Santorini

Santorini

The sun slowly warms runners in Marathon though the air is chilly. A stiff tailwind promises a benefit on the course but causes problems during the 1.5 hour wait for the gun. Despite the rigorous seeding process, unwelcomed people still make it into my corral - the front one after the professionals and invited runners. We make our way down the road, but I have to jump on to the cobblestone sidewalk to get around people, dodging metal barriers along the way. We make a slight detour at 4km to loop the graves of the Athenians site (which I doubt is the route the ancient messengers took) before plowing on. Most of the first 12km is downhill and I got out pretty fast. Originally, there was no plan for this race. My recovery from the R2R2R kept me slow. I figured a 3:30 or so. But then I did a half marathon in 1:28 flat and felt like I had some potential back. I only did one 20 miler this fall, and even that was earlier than I would have liked. But overall, I was running more miles per week than I was last winter, so I felt better going into this run, minus the week of travel and gluttony.

Having committed to a faster pace in the early miles, I stuck with it. The net decline of the first 10km was met with some very difficult uphill. From 7-20 miles, I only remember going uphill. Despite the trend, I tried to keep a similar pace, but the consistency was difficult over the varied terrain.

We passed through the area ravaged by forest fires earlier this year. It was well lined with supporters and I could taste the charred wood in the air. It was sad that such a landscape was destroyed.

The climbing continued until about 32km where it was, literally, all downhill from there. I paid for my early pace, the net downhill start, and the difficult climbs. My knee began hurting and I just grew tired. However, after running 75 of these things I have a point where experience takes over from training, and I began getting consistent again. While I can't say I felt good, I kept it together. The last 10km of the run were constantly downhill, so much so at times that it hurt. I grew very tired of the run but was determined to finish in a similar pace as I set out. We dropped down the final hill as crowds lined the street. The final stretch angles into the Panathenaic Stadium, site of the original (modern) Olympics. I crossed in a little over 3:13 which is the 2nd fastest I have run in 5 years (but a solid 16 minutes from my best, set just 5 years ago).

I would love to blame the post race beers, dash to the airport, two long flights and a layover for my sore legs, but they hurt pretty damn bad right from the finish. Perhaps it was the training, the lack of training on hills, the week of walking around a lot, or maybe just the early pace. It doesn't matter. One thing remains true, whether it's your first or 75th, when it is done, it is done, and it cannot be taken away from you.