Walking on the beach is ideal to clear your head. At least with the wind.
No, I really don't mind at all that I've only run a 30 kilometer run from the The Hague Beach Marathon. For me it was a very nice training and a good one to trot out on my own again. But I'm not going to run 12 km when the wind is so strong, that walking and running are about as fast, so the 6 hours cutoff is hardly feasible.
The realization of my registration was also a last minute thing. Last Sunday I did the 52 km Leenderbostrail and the days after I felt pretty good, Thursday the speed was good again (just like after Ghent through the Nutritapes?). Next week I'll do an intensive training where the running shoes probably won't be used. And I was also home alone this weekend. So what do you do then? Exactly, enroll.nl watch.
The choice was between the Otterlo Trail with Nanda and Cyril for a 10 or 17 km or a bit more exciting, the Den Haag Strandmarathon. Short forest or long beach. Nanda knows how long it took me. In the end the preparation for the Lighthouse Trail and my wish to clear my head was the deciding factor. I could always get off at Noordwijk, halfway. And with an average of around 30 participants it was nice and quiet.
Moderate breeze
As an information specialist, you should know that Google doesn't always do you a favour. That's what shot through my head while the wind was blowing around the house at about five ’ at night. The ‘moderate wind’-indication that Google gives at wind force 4, is not funny at all on the coast, as it turned out afterwards. Certainly not if the one on the way back is against…
Of course, I've taken some measures. After hearing the strong wind I immediately changed my running clothes. As a long tight I took a Montane tight with extra pieces for the crotch that are wind- and waterproof. It's also nice and warm, but not quite tight from the front and that sometimes looks like you put a sock under your pants because of the creases. Next to that a thermo shirt, merino shirt with long sleeves (in the bag), merino buff, gloves and the superior Omm Kamleika jacket which is extremely wind- and waterproof. Quite a lot for 7 degrees Celsius, but the wind chill temperature was around 0 degrees.
Easy start
The marathon is organized by The Hague Road Runners, who all donate to charity. The event is sincerely small-scale: the permit allows 150 runners according to the website. And that is not many people on the large beach between Scheveningen and Noordwijk. Incidentally, the very first edition was even without a permit, which is why the Den Haag Strandmarathon is also called the Black Marathon.
The race started at 10 o'clock. A nice time to catch up on Sunday with metro E and about four kilometers of bikes. For a moment I drove past the clubhouse radius, but luckily there was Leo who took me to the starting numbers. Leo had run the beach marathon before and according to his message on Facebook it is one of the best to do (Leo runs about one marathon a month), which helped me in my decision between forest and beach.
Everyone in the canteen agreed: for this marathon it is very important to save strength in the first half. The fact that we then all went to the start at TNO fairly quickly suggested otherwise. But this is also typical so’n marathon for other purposes. I with my Vuurtorentrail, others with the 60 from Texel and even a nice group of Maastricht people who wanted to run the Marathon des Sables (MdS) together and now ran in brand new, heavy Waa vests. So there are certainly a few beastly runners for those who are quietly the same as fast for me. Add to that the fact that most of the runners do half and can give more.
Everyone who knows me knows that this scenario is not ideal for me. The start was therefore quite smooth. Leo, normally much faster, stayed behind me for a long time, those first rainy but relatively windless kilometers towards the pier (starting speed 5.39 min/km, dropping a bit). After a few dunes, we would finally go to the beach there.
At infinity
Once on the beach, there was a strong wind behind us. The legs felt very supple. Maybe a bit like at the Alphense Bergen, a week after the Ghent marathon, where I really felt like a machine. The beach was wide and with a nice firm part. The rhythm was nice. On the left a wild sea with here and there a kitesurfer. On the right a peaceful row of dunes. And above beautiful ominous clouds, which occasionally rained down on us. Without music, looking at infinity, head in the wind and being ordinary.
It struck me that I could easily maintain a good pace here without getting really tired. And that there were almost continuously other runners – despite the small group of marathon runners – nearby. The pace was usually between 5.30 and 5.50 min/km, depending on gullies and hardness. Posten – every 5 km I missed some – could I skip to keep the rhythm.
What happened the first 21 km? Not much, actually. I saw a dog that almost tripped another runner. Held a short conversation with a running group passing by in Katwijk, and went over a small dike because of the trench near Katwijk. Like I said, letting everything pass like clouds. Lovely.
And everything changed
Just before the turning point I saw a lot of runners on the way back. Thumbs up. It wasn't a pretty sight. How bad it was, however, only became clear when I turned around after having changed the Ucan bottle. There was a nasty strong wind. It was raining ice-cold. And oh yeah, the sand seemed to flow over the beach.
After one kilometer I got so’n cold forehead that I put the merino buff on my head. The rest, including the noble parts, was still nice and warm and wind free because of my earlier choices.
In the meantime I was slowly overtaken by a runner who, like me, fought with the wind. We walked a bit. Got tired. And walked at about the same pace. Very demotivating. He also found this no longer running; I still did – it is part of the hard perseverance sometimes needed – but I still wanted this. The turning point was close.
Wim Hof
We were also a little worried about the last runner right behind us. It went all the way to Wim Hof… Barefoot, no shirt, the only killer was a pair of shorts (then go all natural). That may seem to do it on the way there, but wind against – with rain – is it really a lot heavier as my forehead already noticed. However, the fear turned out to be unfounded, because after a few kilometers he caught up with us. But with a reasonably red skin. I'm afraid that must have been painfully warming up when we came home.
Me and my fellow walker kept moving slowly. Mile by mile at a speed of often only 9-10 min/km and more often walking than walking.
We passed Katwijk. And walked on slowly. I started calculating. At this rate the 6 o'clock cutoff would just or wouldn't be reached. And it was heavy. The fun was out. Did I want to walk another 2.5 hours while that put a lot of strain on my body? Around 29 km or so the answer came: no. I didn't feel like it anymore and I didn't want my reasonably physical course to fail later in the week due to an injury. So I walked back to Katwijk, to the bus stop one stopped at 30.9 km in 3 hours and 47 minutes. Of which more than 1 hour and 3 quarters for that last 10 km after the turning point…
In the end, I certainly got a nice workout out of it, but enough is enough. With bus-train-bus and a lot of shrieking from the evaporating sweat, I finally got back to the club to sign out and for a hot shower. When I left home, Leo just came in. And there were still 10 men on the list who weren't inside. Leo – the experienced rotten – must have caught up quite a bit. Physically and mentally that last piece was really hell.
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