Pacers in the forest: Crown Estate the Loo Trailmarathon

I've never been a fast runner. I run tracks for fun. People are more important to me than results. But is that compatible with the philosophy of a trail organised by a (track) athletics association?

From the Kroondomein the Loo trail marathon I had often heard that it would be beautiful. The trail, limited to 150 participants, is originally a substitute for the Midwinter Marathon distance. Nowadays, contrary to what the name suggests, the longest distance is the 25 km Assel round. The maximum time for this trail is 5.5 hours, not very much for a trail marathon, but achievable on the altitude and ground not very exciting terrain. According to the organization, however, it is all about enjoyment. You should definitely do that, according to the organization, because the crown domain is beautiful with forest and heathland and the boars, deer and other game you can encounter there. The starting tickets are usually sold out in a few hours.

However, the race briefing just before the trail had a completely different tone. Mandatory starting on pacers with balloons in the woods, strict enforcement of the cutoff… I've really never seen pacers on a trail. And on the trail I hate them. They make me nervous, I can't stand groups and I have to be able to stop without feeling guilty in front of the group because of diabetes. And more important: because of a strong focus on others, my nutrition schedule easily gets rid of the trail… Was I the only one with this world view? Not really according to the group of Trailwalkers:

Actually, I wanted to resell by then, but I would go with Ramona, Simone and Frank. Ramona would accompany me personally, just as she dragged me along the road, Simone and Frank wanted to know where they stood in terms of speed.

Warning for further reading: For those who love a quick marathon and have competed, the following may sound negative. However, I assumed it was a trail and expected a completely different approach. I also realized that further in the front of the field, the run was less forced. According to Frank and Simone you could run alone and there was still banana and the like at the nursing post. They also did not have to deal with a group of runners right behind them.

Back pain

Friday afternoon, the day before the race, started with an ominous message: Ramona went through her back packing the stuff. She would go with the kids and Remco a day earlier and spend the night in a holiday park with swimming pool and all.

In the end she decided to start – maybe a little bit my fault – anyway. And it's a hard aunt, as you must know. So we sat down around the pacer just under 5 o'clock – although the queue at the start was so sloppy that it could have been a bit faster. We at least tried to find some space of our own.

The first few miles were reasonable, but Ramona was in pain and the pacer groups were far too close. A lot of cackling about wine and the like. Both I and Ramona got pretty stressed out about this. For me that quickly saved a heart rate zone and keeping up one's own pace wouldn't work. Even though Ramona at least prevents my rocket launches of 4 minutes per kilometre like during the first Rotterdam Marathon. Manoeuvring between two groups was also very difficult.

After just a few kilometres Ramona had to stretch out in pain. I checked if I could massage it out. There was a clearly palpable warm spot the size of the tip of my thumb, right against the spine. That didn't feel good… But we decided to persevere anyway.

While we stopped a bit later to adjust an annoying start tire, we just heard the group behind us joking about us out loud. That we already had to walk. Could have been from Rotterdam. That added quite a few extra heartbeats per minute and caused cramped fists and jaws.

By the way, we stayed ahead of that group for a very long time. We didn't want them to get in our way because the pace was similar, but because of that we got very agitated. When we finally had to let them ahead of us after another stop, the pacer also had the guts to say that we had to be inside before dark … And this pacer was – as far as I could see – from the group until 5,5 hours, so we really started to worry. We didn't pay attention to time, staying whole was more important. (Afterwards I heard that those ‘professional pacers’ walked way too fast in the first half).

Also in terms of route, the pacers didn't do so well. In the group of walkers it was clarified that the pacers were actually mainly there to navigate as there was no signposting. Now the average person can navigate on a watch, especially on a simple route along main roads, so I didn't really see that usefulness. Until I saw people taking wrong turns in the distance and even had to confirm to a pacer a little later that she was on route (after a previous loss).

Farewell

The only nursing post was halfway there. Ramona was very doubtful about continuing and got an extra paracetamol from a friendly mountain biker. But by now the warm spot on her back had become almost as big as my hand. Ramona was having a hard time but was stubborn, didn't want to give up after this distance. Wanted to at least do the training distance (30 km) of the Rotterdam schedule. We didn't think we could finish in time; the post was almost cleared, the last runners caught up with us here at the water taps.

Another kilometer (up to 23-24 km) we walked on. But the pain got worse. And the mountain bikes circled behind us. On a trail, getting off often meant a difficult road to a pick-up point, but the treatment post was still close by. So came the inevitable decision for Ramona to turn around.

I had had it at the time and was tired of the stress. Didn't want to leave her so alone, even though it was only a kilometer back and those mountain bikes could best accompany her. We both had a hard time saying goodbye. Me to let it go, Ramona because she felt sad and guilty because she thought she would stop me. But, it was my choice to stay with her, so stopping was out of the question.

Not only

I had a pretty hard time with it. I felt rotten, sad and wanted to be alone for a while and let my feelings run free. But the last runners were right behind me. So I grabbed my phone to set up an audiobook and let them pass.

No such luck… The rear mountain biker stayed with me. I even offered him my starting number to run it out of the race, but rules are rules and the last runner wasn't allowed to stay behind on his own. Even though he had his own navigation, phone and no need for medals. In the end we agreed that he would be 50 m behind.

With all the stress and strange walking pace’s I only clearly lost sight of one thing: nutrition. Luckily it was warm enough for the sensor to work, because I was so tired and couldn't get any more speed into it. Thanks to the sensor the confirmation came soon: 4.7 mmol/l and descending (sensors are often a bit behind the reality).

After this measurement I started a long eating trip, because the blood sugars didn't want to stay up and reached really good values (6-7 minimum). I almost get nauseous when I think about what I had to eat besides the sports drink. Every time the sensor, value a bit higher, remained on a descending arrow just below the desired minimum… Now I did benefit from the cyclist, who offered me some coke.

Last runner?

Those who do have experience with diabetics know that controlling feelings with low blood sugars is a challenge. Is it also natural for ordinary mortals to walk. Something with testosterone. But with the better blood sugars, my peace and quiet returned a little. The irritation about the companion cyclist disappeared and at one point I even liked not being completely alone. To be able to walk at the pace of the bike – now a few meters in front of me &#8211. A bit in run-walk-run, but not extremely slow either. The fatigue of the stress and low blood sugars had taken its toll.

How long it had taken me, I only dared to ask around 37 km. At that moment I still had more than 50 minutes to finish, which also meant that a load was dropped. Walking that would even be possible. And the rider kept believing in it and encouraged me to keep going. I could almost smell the finish. According to him, I could even overtake someone who was walking right in front of us.

I didn't think that was important. One's own pace is leading. And because we kept following the route of the watch, while the other one chose an easier path, I lost some time. In the end we finished a few seconds apart. I sincerely grant the other one that victory.

It remains an AV

Unfortunately at the finish the bad feeling was quickly back. There would still be a runner in the race. The people at the finish said he had gone for an early walk, so that could take up to 6 hours. And they didn't want to wait for that, an old man walking. I fled to the restaurant where Simone was waiting for me. Afterwards that last runner only finished 2-3 minutes outside the 5.5 hour limit.

In hindsight, I've had some bad luck on this trail. The mountain bikers did their best, but the atmosphere was spoiled for me by the focus on time with pacers and their groups. Further in front that was no problem according to Simone and Frank. For me this didn't feel like a nice trail.

Sure, the route went through a beautiful forest. But the easiest wide paths, hills and technical parts were largely avoided. Which of course made that limit – the same as for the street marathon of Rotterdam – easy to do. Maybe it's a nice run, but not for me. I also think I would have had less trouble with it if it wasn't sold as a trail, but as a nature marathon. Because that's what I think it is and with that approach I would have run elsewhere.