The Athens Authentic Marathon 2022

 We arrived in Athens on a Thursday afternoon and the marathon was on Sunday. 

If you're interested in learning more about this race, I recommend reading this article from a runner in 2021, who wrote about his experience and his logistics beautifully:

https://medium.com/@gareth.richards0103/running-the-athens-authentic-marathon-6b1be4f62402

Friday: it took some time to go to the race expo and do packet pick up. I felt emotional being there - nervous and excited, honoured to do something so cool and historical, but also overwhelmed at the size of the event. I've never run in any large race before. I think 15,000 people took the start line. The event also has a 5km, kids run, 10km, and a night run.

These hill descriptions / elevation profile were intimidating!

The expo was held inside the facility that hosted martial arts at the 2004 Olympic Games

Saturday: Jason and the kids went to the Acropolis museum while I rested. I did my best to eat and drink enough all day. Jason and Rachel also went to watch the 10km.

What were my goals for the race? How was I feeling? I was nervous. On one hand, I had put in a lot of training over the last 8 countries and had run up to 32km on my longest run. My body was doing ok without any injury issues. But my last month of training had a weird schedule and it felt like a long time since my longest run. My actual mileage per week was very low compared to a conventional training program. I wasn't sure if it was going to be enough. I was intimidated by the hill climb from 19km-32km, and wasn't sure what to expect. I was looking forward to it being over as it's taken up a huge amount of my energy and focus (and that of my supporting family). Definitely training runs have been a huge source of anxiety and fitting in my runs during travel has been bittersweet. On one hand, fun to explore new places. On the other hand, sometimes running in traffic or narrow roads in weird places or less than ideal terrain and not on the days that I'd like. 

My main goal was to finish. Even better would be trying to run most of the run and barely walk. And an icing-on-the-cake awesome day would be running <5hours.

Sunday / Race day:

The race is a point-to-point race, starting in the town of Marathon, Greece and ending in the Panathenaic stadium in Athens. Our AirBnb was very close to the finish, but that meant an early start Sunday morning to get to the start.

I woke at 5:20am, left the apartment at 5:50am with Jason, and we walked to the nearby metro station where they were loading athletes on to the coaches. I met up with another solo female that we met at the airport, and she and I kept each other company for the morning. It was good to have someone to chat with on the bus ride and during the morning prep. The bus ride took about 40min, and then there's a bit of a walk from the bus drop off to the start area inside the Marathon stadium.

Leaving at 5:50am

Getting on a pink coach bus

We got to watch the brief changing of the guard (really funny) before boarding

Sunrise from the bus window

My new friend (named Leila) and I were both in starting block 8, meaning our start time was 9:21am. So I was drinking water and still eating food because breakfast at 5:30am wasn't going to be enough to get me through until my estimated finish time of about 2:30pm.

One of the challenges here was what to wear. It was chilly early in the morning, but the forecast for the day was sunny and 20 degrees celsius - lovely running weather in my opinion. So many people were wearing shorts and a t-shirt and being cold. They were handing out plastic bags, which people were turning into another top layer, and the waste of plastic this created really upset me. Some people had brought their own space blankets, and many had old warm up clothes they wore and then left at the start area to be donated. I thought from the information we were given prior to the race that there would be space blankets available for all of us, but there wasn't. There were plastic bottles of water but that was it. So I wish I had found old clothes to bring and wear at the start. (Note - I did consider this but it was easier said than done when you're living out of one backpack for a year and don't have extra clothes.)

Note to any future runners - bring your own toilet paper and hand sanitizer. There wasn't any and the bathrooms were GROSS. I did bring toilet paper but any other extras like potential hand sanitizer would either have gone away in the kit bag or been left to waste at the start line.

I initially wore a couple of long sleeved layers on the bus, but we had to hand over our kit bags and those layers had to go in there to be transported to the finish. The kit bags have to be handed over by 8:15am (in fact they probably didn't leave until 8:30am), but the kit bag drop off was well before the inner stadium where the bathrooms were. So, in the interest of using the port-a-potty, I handed over my layers and kit bag at 7:50am and then spent 1.5 hours trying to stay calm, stay warm, use the bathroom, drink water, and avoid wasting energy.

It was fun to watch all the other athletes get ready in their own ways. It was a beautiful morning and getting warmer as the sun rose. Music was playing and people were getting excited to start.

Inside the marathon stadium "holding area" before the start

Glad to have made a friend and had company. (She ran with her puffy coat around her waist!)

Our starting block 8 walking toward the start

Looking behind me toward starting block 9

Then we were off! We started out very slow. I expected people to start out too fast, but in fact I was shocked at how slow the start was. I made my way forward bit by bit, navigating my way through people and wheelchairs. There were some people out cheering on the side of the road but Marathon is a little town without much going on.

At about the 5km mark, there are more turns and navigation. I took a bottle of water at the first aid station and was happy to drink a little and pour some on me to cool down - it was already getting warm and I was briefly regretting my decision to wear capris instead of shorts. (It was a toss up between a cold start, a warm run, and pocket access for carrying my own gels). 

I felt really good for the first 10km. I knew that my pace was a good pace for me. If the elevation profile of the race was different, I might have said that I was going too fast and should have pulled back a bit to avoid hitting a wall later. But instead I figured I'd run well while I could, before the hills. 

There weren't a lot of people cheering or much to look at along the way. But the odd person who was coming out to cheer was heart-warming. An older Greek woman here and there shouting 'Bravo! Bravo!' or a family with kids trying to give 'high 5s'. There were little twigs of olive branches here and there on the road, and some athletes had olive branches attached to them for luck. 

The hill climb from 10km-13km was very gradual and fine. From 13-15km you get a view of the beach. There isn't much action during this time and it's just pavement and watching other runners in front of you. Somewhere in this zone I passed the pace runner holding the 4:59 pace flag, which was motivating to see if I could keep going and stay ahead of them.

The race had aid stations every 2.5km starting at 5km and it was clearly laid out ahead of time what would be at each aid station. I was impressed with all of this and how well it went. I had a good fuel plan and it worked well for me. I had something to eat from my own pockets every 45 min. I alternated drinking water at one aid station and 'isotonic' (powerade) at the next. I poured water on myself to stay cool at almost every station. Each aid station was a target to work toward that mentally helped me push to the next tent.

The climb from 15-17.5km didn't seem like much to me, just a little harder work, but the descent from 17.5km-19km was quite steep and my legs weren't thrilled about it. That didn't bode well for the last 10km, which was all downhill.

As I finished the descent, I realized how well I was running and keeping a good pace consistently. I debated pushing on to the 21.1km mark because I was running well and might have actually had a PR half marathon time. But I had to talk myself out of this temptation and stay calm and consistent, walking through the 20km aid startion to fuel properly and keep it together.

Here are there a group of spectators would be along the road to cheer us on, and once or twice there was a traditional Greece group dancing and blasting music - definitely a highlight!

Then things started to climb. I slowed a little and prepped myself for upcoming pain. But a lady on the side of the road offered me an olive twig and I happily took it and added it to my ponytail. I was quite excited to have the honour of having her give this to me for good luck as she shouted encouraging things at me in Greek.

After the 21.1km mark (which I completed in 2:10 - faster than I expected and feeling great about my time), I put in my headphones and listened to a travel podcast for a mental break. I kind of tuned out from 21-26km, aware that we were climbing and that things were getting harder. My legs were complaining. I walked a little bit here and there. Mentally this section was tough because there still feels like so much climbing and so much course still left. But I also knew that the top of the climb (31.5km) wasn't that far away and I had to just keep going uphill to get to that summit.

Some people around me were showing signs of suffering. A person off to the side with a member of the medical team getting their cramping calf sprayed and stretched. I saw someone vomit. I saw some runners that dropped out get picked up by a bus. I saw lots of people limping and struggling and walking and looking rough. I felt badly for all of these people. Yet seeing their hardship made me grateful that my body was still doing well, so on I kept going.

I stopped my podcast at about 26km because I wasn't very focused on the race and had lost connection with the people around me or the spectators. I hadn't been paying attention to the grade or my pace at all. It's like I almost fell asleep for a bit. When I took out my headphones, I was way more aware of the volume of music and the constant cheering of "Bravo! Bravo!". I also realized that I had less than 6km left to climb, which sounded painful but possible. My legs were complaining already and the slow uphill was definitely run-able but it was taking its toll. 

At about 28km, I heard my family! They had taken transport to come out and cheer for me. The instant I saw them, tears welled up in my eyes and they looked so excited and so proud of me. The kids were sweet and Jason was bursting out of his skin excited. They also brought me my sunglasses, which was fantastic as the sun was feeling strong now. 

I'm soaking wet from sweat and pouring water on myself, and Ava doesn't really want a hug

The next 1-2km was a little flatter and I got into a better focus again. More and more people started to line the streets. There weren't any 'sights' to see, and I wasn't particularly aware of anything around me except the runners I was close to, the pavement in front of me, and when the next km marking or aid station would be. 

At about 30km, there was a family (American?) holding a whole bunch of signs in English. "There is no wall!" and "You can do it!" and "Free High 5's" ... I loved this family! It was so lovely to know what people were cheering as all the other Greek cheering was nice but it didn't mean much to me. That helped push me up the hill, although I definitely walked some of the last steeper climb.

Then the downhill was starting. I couldn't believe it! That was the whole climb? I was done it? I mean, it was hard and I was glad it was done, but it wasn't THAT bad. I braced myself for a false summit but we were in fact done the climbing and on our way down. 11km to go, mostly downhill, and less than 5 hours was certainly very possible. 

Down I went, trying to get my legs moving with a bit more spunk. They complained and didn't want to move much. Bending my knees to get any 'butt kick' was not really possible. Most of my legs were very sore. A little hot spot on one foot. Cramps threatening here and there in my legs. I started negotiating with myself - just get to the 32km sign and then you can walk if you need to. Then I'd get there and say 'you'd better keep running while you can. If you put in the work now, you could still come in under 5 hours if the wheels come off or you start cramping and can't run at the end. Keep going." 

At 34km I saw my family again! Rachel had a "Go Mommy Go!" sign and I think it spurred me on as well as several others around. The crowds were thick now and there was music and a party atmosphere as though we were just around the corner from the finish. But having only 8km to go felt really manageable. Even if I had to walk a little here and there to change the pain sensations in my legs. LOTS of people were walking at this point.

Each km and aid station was a victory. I was pretty convinced that cramps would take over and at some point I wouldn't be able to keep running, so I had to keep running forward while I could and try not to walk for very long or at all. I knew there was an uphill at 37km, so I made myself run to it so that I could walk up it. It wasn't very long, though, so at the top I ran again. Someone there said the first 'you are almost there' and I winced, because I knew that wasn't even close to true. I made the same deal with myself for a hill at the 39km mark. At that hill, someone said 'congratulations', and I winced again, because we still had over 3km to go which felt like a very long way to my angry legs. But I kept running. Ava says she saw a t-shirt that said "shut up, legs! We can do this!" and that was pretty much what kept going through my head.

After the 39th km mark, not many people were walking anymore. There were very persuasive Greek people commanding you to keep going and 'Bravo! Bravo!' was being yelled over and over and over again. Drums and music and dancing and advertisements crowded the streets. 

Hard to see, but that's me in my pain cave near the end

Coming around the last bend, hoping to sight the stadium and the finish soon

I was sure at this point I was going to finish in under 5 hours, and so excited about how well things had gone. But those last few km really were HARD. From 40-41km the slope downward goes up a little and it's a fine balance between gravity assisting you to the finish and your legs perhaps collapsing on you. Thankfully I made it through and saw myself on the huge screen as I turned the corner. I actually didn't really know where the real finish line was, so I braced myself for extra steps inside the stadium in case the finish was further down the line. As I came into the stadium, looking for the finish, I saw my kids on the side of the course (inside the track). They each came and grabbed a hand and ran with me. I asked if they were allowed and they said yes. I asked if that upcoming arch was actually the finish, and they said yes. The Greek words "Terminus" were had for me to read, so I wasn't entirely sure I was actually done until I was under the clock. Each kiddo took a hand and helped me across. The clock time said 5:11 and I was momentarily confused, but then remembered my own chip time and my watch said 4:41. I was shocked!

I could hardly stand and my legs were so sore. But I also couldn't stop because if I stopped, I cramped up right away. So we walked through the gauntlet, met up with Jason, and hobbled home. By the time I got home I was pretty out of it and shaking and shivering, but very very happy with how the day had gone. Everything really came together as well as it possibly could have.

I wouldn't say I had much 'fun' out there. And I also wouldn't say that it was a 'pretty' course as there wasn't much going on to look at. But it was a very cool experience that I'm grateful for, and a really unique thing to run this historic course. 

And now it's time to rest, and enjoy Greece.