Fearless Flow

Running Like A Punk To An Unexpected Sub-3 Marathon

Last weekend, I ran a marathon in under 3 hours at the 50k Ultramarathon in Rodgau, Germany. A running goal that I have been chasing for almost 6 years. Maybe even the goal of my running life. At least, the goal I worked the hardest for and thought about the most, regardless of whether I was running or not.

One of many reasons to take a closer look. But first a short ...

Disclaimer

No one gives a shit that I ran a marathon in under 3 hours. Hundreds of thousands have done it before me and hundreds of thousands will do it after me, I'm fully aware of that. So this Das Z Letter is not about showing you what a badass I am. Instead, I want to take you inside my head, my heart, and my running soul in the hopes that my stories will inspire some of you to listen to what you care about in running, what you are willing to sacrifice for it, and – most importantly – to patiently let it go and wait for it to come to you instead of chasing it.

Alright. I guess we’re ready now. Let's dive into my strange sub-3 debut story that took place on a frozen acre in Rodgau.

How did it happen?

Foremost, I didn’t plan to run a marathon in Rodgau. I am 5 weeks into my spring marathon preparation, and I was supposed to do a regular training longrun of 35k. My coach Karim gave me the permission to run a bit faster than usual, though, as long as it’s not marathon pace.

“All right, got it, that's how we do it!”

The vibes at the start were exceptionally lovable. Everyone was totally relaxed and yet full of anticipation. Countdown – Gunshot – And off we went.

Already after a few hundred meters I hit a perfect pacing sweet spot which felt like a 4/10 effort. Powerful and fast but absolutely doable. I didn’t want to "destroy" this magic speed of travel by looking at my watch, mostly because it felt so awesome, but also because I was afraid to find out I was running outside my coache’s instructions. So I didn’t check my watch, and simply enjoyed the ride. Ingenious!

Running like a Punk

With each lap, it became more and more of a "Punk run", increasingly ignoring the Levelhead's concerns and objections, until he was all but gone. My head was completely muted.

The idea of “running like a Punk” really resonated with me on that day. It just made sense to me. In fact, it seemed like the only desirable way to run at all. “Running for running’s sake” or “running with your heart”, as I described it in “Runhundred”.

Little by little, I immersed myself in a state of total flow. Perhaps even in something that goes beyond that. It is difficult for me to grasp. I might try to dig deeper into this sensation in another Das Z Letter.

The Mantra

After 3 laps (15 km) a mantra appeared out of nowhere that triggered this state even more. Just one word:

It popped up in my head and immediately gave me goosebumps. The mantra became even more powerful as I associated it with each round. I was now running Fearless-15, Fearless-20, Fearless-25, Fearless-30 and Fearless-35.

Let me briefly explain why I think the word "Fearless" has worked so well for me as a mantra. It meant that I was fearless of:

• Over-pacing

• Getting tired and slowing down

• Entering a zone of discomfort

• Breaking the rules of my coach

• Undermining my training

• Hurting myself

• Anything else

The Gift

When I finished my 7th loop (35 km), and thus my assigned workout, I looked at my watch for the first time and saw an average pace of 4:12 min / km. I immediately understood what those numbers meant. The magic pace required for a sub-3 marathon, 4:16 minutes per kilometer, is tattooed into my brain. Within the blink of an eye, I decided to accept the gift and go all in.

The Marathon: “Today.“
Me: “Today??“
The Marathon: “Today.“
Me: “Ok.“

Going on that last full lap (35 km - 40 km) was a strange sensation. First, because it felt exactly like all the laps before. No difference between the second lap (5 km - 10 km) or the 6th lap (25 km - 30 km). I just ran, and it felt all the same.

Secondly, although I was fully aware that I was running towards a sub-3 hour marathon, I somehow didn't care.

This sounds much harder than it is meant, but the fact that I was about to reach an – at least to me – super meaningful running goal that I had been chasing for so many years seemed less important to me than simply running. All I wanted was to keep doing what I've been doing for the last 2.5 hours. To run in that zone, that complete flow state which has brought me so far. I remained calm and did just that.

After the eighth lap (35 - 40 km) I checked my watch again, which still showed the average pace of 4:12 min / km. It had not changed one bit. I passed our private aid station, and for the first time I was overcome with emotion. My friends were standing there and I could see in their faces that they knew exactly what was going on. Some of them may have even known before I did.

In full swing, I grabbed one last bottle of sports drink and went on my final lap with only 2.2 km left. The onslaught of emotions pulled me out of my flow state and I could immediately feel my heart rate going up. My stride became shaky and my breathing lost its rhythm. However, it was absolutely no struggle for me to maintain the pace. I was now up to maybe a 7/10 effort, but it still felt like it was totally doable.

The race organizers have set up a marathon sign at exactly 2.2 km of the circuit. Apparently, many runners are interested in their marathon time at the Rodgau 50k.

The Moment

I spotted the inconspicuous marathon sign, a small "M" on a blue background, on a long straight through a wooded area. I let my arms go for a moment to relax my shoulders. An instinctive movement that I often do during long runs to avoid tensing up. I passed the marathon sign, slowed my pace and stopped my Garmin.

It didn't feel at all like the feeling of relief that I knew from my previous marathons. I felt neither exhausted nor redeemed. At that moment, I realized that my worst marathon enemy had not shown up. I call him “the Chokehold”, with a capital C. A pronounced feeling of discomfort that usually occurs between the 25th and 30th kilometer of a marathon and increasingly makes me want to stop, until I finally reach the finish line, or, indeed, prematurely drop out of the race. No Chokehold far and wide. “Interesting.” – as my coach Karim would say.

I took a quick breath and then looked at the watch. It read "2:57:31". Then the summary display changed to "42.22 km". It was clear that I had finally managed to run a marathon in under three hours. 6 years after the desire had first blossomed in my heart. The first thought that popped into my head was:

"That was easy."

The Revelation

Not because it was easy. But because it felt easy. Or rather: it felt simple. Hundreds of hours of training, thousands of trial & error experiments, endless deep dives into my running data only to find out that the trick to master a sub-3 marathon, any fast marathon, for that matter, is to simply let go and run.

It was both enlightening and embarrassing to realize that you can't think your way to a sub-3 marathon. You have to run it. With your legs and your heart. As simple and hard as it sounds. Something I should have known better, especially since Western States.

I think I'll be switching back and forth between the Levelhead and the Punk for the rest of my life. I am both, and I like both. In the end, my sub-3 marathon was also teamwork. The Levelhead got me to the point where it was theoretically possible, and the Punk pulled through. I'm truly grateful to both of them.

What I used to believe

My beliefs about when, how and where my sub-3 marathon would take place were totally shattered in Rodgau. The following truths were irrefutable to me and had been stuck in my head for years:

• You have to run the first half of the marathon as carefully as possible. If you’re not feeling totally great at KM30, you did everything wrong.

• If you start too fast, you will burst. Guaranteed.

• The last 10 kilometers are pure agony.

• If (!) I ever manage to run under 3 hours, then it will be extremely close. Something like a 2:59:52.

• Sadly, without carbon-plated supershoes I have absolutely no chance of breaking three hours.

I wasn't right about any of these points.

Favoring Factors

As I said before, I had imagined my first marathon under 3 hours differently. Especially at a different time. I hadn't planned to attempt it in the middle of my marathon preparation. And yet, it seemed like a good moment to give it a shot.

Looking back, I can clearly identify the factors that favored a sub-3 marathon.

1.) Full training week, with no rest days. My coach Karim and I already had the idea, that classic tapering does more harm than good to my race day performances. For my next big race, we were planning to shorten the tapering considerably or even skip it altogether and see what it does to me. We unintentionally did exactly that for the Rodgau 50k, even though it wasn't meant to be a race. I ran Rodgau out of a full training week with no days off. Even more important: A super tough 2 × 3000 m threshold workout on Wednesday, only 3 days before. It really "ignited my engines" and put my body (and maybe also the mind) in a level of alertness that was the main precondition for the superb pace / heart rate / endurance relation in Rodgau. I’ll be sharing more insights on tapering in another Das Z Letter soon, but we're on a hot track here.

2.) Five 100 km / 8.5 h training weeks in a row. Rodgau was preceded by a solid training block with large volumes. I could literally feel my form ramping up more and more every week.

3.) No off-season, de-training or longer break after the Valencia marathon. My marathon training almost seamlessly continued from one cycles to the next, which perfectly built upon each other. It was the first time that I didn’t have the feeling of starting from scratch, when embarking on a new marathon preparation.

4.) Consistency. Since the second half of 2021, Karim has been thoughtfully crafting a continuous long-term training plan that addressed a lot of my previous weaknesses as a runner (primarily lacking base endurance), regardless of which A-race we were preparing for. Even in the Western States preparation, my training was always balanced and covered all the aspects that were important to me as an athlete.

4.) Temperature. It was 0 degree Celsius when the race started and around 4-5 degree when it ended. At least for me, this is the absolute perfect temperature to deliver peak performance.

5.) Nutrition. I never fueled as intensely and consistently as in Rodgau. It was a loop course and I had access to my own sports drink at a privately set up aid station every 5 km. I used a high-carb drink that also included salt, and consumed about 150 - 200ml on each loop (except for one). Roughly getting in 20 - 25g of carbs every 21 minutes, adding up to ca. 60 - 75g of carbs per hour. That’s a lot. No stomach issues, not getting sick of the sports drink one bit. My energy level was super high the whole run.

6.) Vibes. There was an absolutely lovely atmosphere all throughout the race. High-fives, smiling faces, motivating words and sincere joy among runners, volunteers, and spectators alike. There is no better environment to achieve top performance.

7.) Running laps. Nothing makes time go by faster than running in circles. The Rodgau Ultramarathon takes place on a 5 km circuit. Before you even know it, you have covered a longrun distance and from there, it's only a stone's throw to the marathon.

8.) Not knowing where this would lead me. A big part of making this such a successful run was that I left all choices on the table until KM35. In fact, I didn’t even think about where this could lead me. An overpaced tempo-workout? A new 30k PB? Dropping out after 20k? A new marathon PB? Even a sub-3 marathon? Everything was possible, but I didn’t care until KM35. One of the biggest tricks I ever pulled on my brain.

Not so Favoring Factors

As you can see, numerous things came together that favored a fast marathon. On the side of the forces that worked against it, there are also a few points. However, none of them were so significant that they could have become a problem.

1.) The racecourse. The Rodgau Ultramarathon loop consists of mainly dirt roads, with a few stretches of bumpy bike tracks and a short forest path. It also includes a needle-eye U-turn which slows you down to zero every time you pass it.

2.) The traffic jam. There were many people on the racecourse, and it was sometimes difficult to pass by larger groups of runners, especially at the aforementioned turn.

3.) The shoes. When I packed my bag for the weekend, I was absolutely convinced that I would do my assigned tempo longrun in Rodgau and drop out at KM35. So I brought my no-thrills Adidas Adios 8, a super flat racer, which is perfect for speedy workouts up to 20k but not good for longruns, and certainly not for marathon racing. My feet hurt like hell. I have never experienced such pain in my lower extremities before, but it seemed to dilute in the overall state of flow.

In the end, the favorable factors clearly predominated. However, I have to add that I don't believe that the events of last Saturday can be broken down to these few factors. My gut feeling tells me that more happened on the acre in Rodgau than I can put into words at the moment. I will continue to try to find out.

Oh, by the way: the next day, the Levelhead took the lead again when I was doing a pointless shakeout run of exactly 6.7 km to ignorantly complete that 100 km week because... that's why.

And what now?

Well, guess what my answer was…

---

Everything not running

What is the second-best thing in the world after running? That's right. Eating.

There were more than enough foodstuffs at our private aid station in Rodgau, but one thing was quite striking: almost everything on the table was extremely sugary. Most things weren't just sugar-containing, they were sugar. With our private aid station, we would have rivaled any children's birthday party.

It's a paradox that running is all about health and conscious nutrition, but as soon as we runners go into race mode, there's only one goal: to shovel as many carbohydrates into us as quickly as possible without throwing up.

I think if you were to consume these amounts of sugar and calories in a classic “Netflix & Chill” manner in front of the TV instead of during a race, you would end up in the hospital. And they probably wouldn't be able to do much for you anymore.

At the end of the weekend, we divided the sweets among ourselves, and somehow a bag of "Sour Dinos" ended up in our cupboard. I have no idea how this could have happened, but the problem quickly "solved" itself.