Zurich Marathon, April 9, 2006. I’ve entered the race and bought air tickets — just like I did for the never-attempted Loch Ness Marathon. This time, things will be different.
This time, things will be different.
I need them to be different from Hamburg too, even though that was one race that I did actually turn up for. Zurich has a strict 5 hour cut-off. Anyone failing to reach the finish line in that time is dragged from the course, pelted with over-ripe Gruyere, and flung into the icy Zürichsee. Even worse, you don’t get a medal or a teeshirt, despite 4 months of deprivation and self-flagellation.
This could be just the incentive I need.
A few weeks ago, I wondered how I might approach the next marathon, given that I no longer wanted to terrorise myself with schedules and targets. Hmmm. But I’ve had to admit that I actually quite like schedules and targets. I’m going to use them because I need to, to ensure I end up with a Zurich medal. It’s the "terrorise" bit that I aim to discard.
Halfway round Hamburg, after a confident first 20km, my legs went. It took just a few minutes. The strength suddenly drained away, and along with it went much of the pleasure, and much of my self-confidence. I plodded on for another 22km, but as I did so, I told myself that next time, I had to prepare better, and make sure that my legs could take the strain over the full distance.
So this evening I spent a rather forlorn hour or so at the gym, being sold at.
We’ll see.
