IAU 50KM World Championships Brasov 2019
IAU 50KM World Championships 2019
In the middle of June, I got the message that I had been selected to run the 50 km World Championships for Norway. I almost rejected the offer, but right before the deadline, my body finally started to somewhat cooperate again. I have struggled with different injuries for most of this year, so just getting close to injury free was a big step in the right direction. I just couldn’t say no when I felt I could make it to the start line healthy. I had already signed up for the Berlin Marathon, but that race will always be there. I can run Berlin every year. On the other hand, to represent my country in a world championships… this might be the only chance I’ll ever get!
Back in April, I fought my way through the Paris Marathon with an extreme pain in my left hamstring. Whether it was worth it or not in the long run, I don’t know, but finishing with a new PB of 2:28:02 made it feel worth it at the time at least. Little did I know that the next few weeks would be more about boring hamstring rehab exercises and less about running. I wasn’t able to increase my volume before the end of June, and I still had to be very careful when running fast. It’s safe to say that this build-up was far from perfect.
Pre race
For this championships, only me and one other runner from Norway got selected. Upon arriving in Bucharest, we quickly realized that we did not exactly have the biggest team. Some countries had more staff than we had runners. Fortunately, the size of your team is not as crucial in running, as in some other sports. About three hours later, we arrived at the hotel in Brașov, close to where the race would take place.
Usually before a Sunday race, I use the Saturday just for relaxing at the hotel. I try to rest as much as possible, except for a short run in the morning. This time it got very different, as we had to attend a meeting to get our clothes approved. Later in the day we had to join the technical meeting, which was mostly about listening to people arguing about how the drinking stations should be organized. The fact that the person talking, kept saying all helpers at the drinking stations, must be “below” (and not behind) the tables made it somewhat interesting at least. Worth noting was that we would run a 9 km loop, with aid stations in both ends. We would run this loop 5 times, in addition to a shorter loop (5k) at the start. Each country would have their personal drinking station close to the start. In the other end there would be a drinking station from the organizer for everyone. Teams that were big enough to have people in both ends, could have their own tables there as well.
Later in the evening we had to attend the opening ceremony. Carrying the flag of my country through the streets of Brasov was a nice experience, but not so much in a track suit in 30 C (86 F). This would be a small taste of what we would have to go through the next day. Back at the hotel we prepared our bottles for the race, before heading to bed.
Race day
As usual I didn’t sleep all too well the night before the race, but I got 4-5 hours before my alarm went off. After a sleepy breakfast and a short bus ride, we had already witnessed the sun rising. I would have prefered the race to start earlier than 8 a.m. because of the heat, but this would of course be the same for everyone. My mom and dad had made the trip all the way from Norway just to watch the race. As we didn’t have any team members at the aid stations, they got the job of handing us drinks from “behind” the tables.
I didn’t bother with the shakeout run I normally do the morning before a marathon. The warm up was also so short I didn’t even bother saving it on my watch. I wanted to save my energy this time. It’s only 8k difference between a marathon and a 50k, but I was in uncharted territory. I’ve run longer than 50k before, but never in a race. In fact, this would be my first ever ultra marathon.
After getting our outfits approved and timing chips tested it was time to line up. Everyone seemed to be ready at 8 a.m. except for the organizer. The gun went off 5 minutes late, which would mean about a mile extra in the worst heat. Again, this is the same for all the athletes, but it’s unrealistic to think that I will handle the heat as well as some of the runners from warmer climates.
Race
We’re finally off. Just over 150 runners in the championships makes it far less crowded than I’m used to at big city marathons. There’s an open race as well, but all the runners in that race will start behind us. The first kilometer beeps at 3:29. The night before I researched the national record for 50k and found out it’s 2:58:43. I wanted to run sub 3, so I might as well shoot for the national record. I had to average 3:34 each km to make that, but I also knew that you often have to run 1-3 seconds faster on your own watch because of GPS-error.
We didn’t get the chance to run through the course before race day so I try to pay attention to what we’re running through. Back after the first 5k loop we approach the first drinking station. Getting my bottle is no problem. I have taped gels to all my bottles. The runners in the lead are not far ahead after the first loop. At this point in the race I wouldn’t have a problem running there if I wanted to, but I know I can’t keep up that pace for the rest of the race. They seem to be running very controlled as well. I’m sure they’ll increase the pace soon enough. I need to run my own race here and not think about anyone else. For now I’m running with my teammate as we have very similar goals. We’ll try to work together for as long as we can.
On the first 9k loop I start to understand the course better. At one of the meetings the day before the course was described as “almost flat”. It’s not wrong, but it’s also almost never flat. Running out it’s slightly uphill, which of course means there’s a slight downhill on the way back. The second drinking station is placed right before we turn 180 degrees. The biggest teams have their own tables here as well. The rest of us has to turn to the general table available to everyone. The only problem is that the table is really small and the people working there didn’t seem to care about handing out any drinks. I didn’t manage to get a single drop of water. Neither did my teammate. We exchange a few words before we roll back to start. He keeps getting a few meters on me. I close the gap a few times, while I try to remain relaxed. It’s way too early to run faster than I’m comfortable with already after 15k. I get another bottle before we turn again. It’s extremely important that I take the time to empty my bottle before I throw it away. What and how much I can get to drink on the other side of the course is impossible to tell.
If it wasn't hot already at the start, it's definitely starting to get hot now. The pace is still steady. My watch is beeping for between 3:28 and 3:32 every kilometer. I’m soon all alone. It’s not ideal to run alone, but at least it makes it easier to signal that I want something to drink at the stations. I get hold of a bottle. I drink as much as I can manage and pour the rest over my body. On the way back to start I try to increase my pace slightly, but I’m trying to not put too much damage at my quads at the same time. That’s a surefire way to ruin the race. The first half-marathon is completed in around 1:15. It’s not too slow at least.
To start the same loop over and over again is a bit boring and mentally challenging, but it’s also great to know what’s coming. I would have expected to see more people in the streets. It’s very sparse. It makes me more appreciative of the few people who are cheering. I pass the halfway point at 25k and ask myself how I truly feel. I have to admit to myself that I’ve felt better. Can I do this one more time? 25 more km at the same pace? I’m not sure. The only thing I can guarantee is that I’m gonna try.
I’m soon getting a 3:45 km. It’s uphill, but at the same time, I can’t quite understand it. It doesn’t feel like I’m slowing down. I’m hoping my watch is giving me a false reading. I can’t compare my watch to the distance markers, since it’s not signs at every km. A sign for every km here would of course be very chaotic. I manage to get a cup of water before we turn back home again. Unfortunately half of the water ends up on the ground as I grab the cup. The day before someone made a point that you could only hand out sealed bottles because of anti-doping rules. Seems like they don’t care about that anymore. I would have liked more water now. Both for drinking and for cooling down my body. Luckily my watch gives me some better splits running down towards the start again, but soon enough 3:40s will be more common than 3:30s. I get another one of my bottles and a gel and start another lap. I should have filled my bottles to the top, since the other station is like bingo. It’s near impossible to turn around a negative trend in a race of this length. My watch beeps and says 3:34. Will I be able to mobilize and run faster again? I’ll get the answer at the next beep; 3:51. It’s over. My legs are done. Just a shame the race isn’t over. One more lap to go.
I do the 180-turn and start the last lap. My legs are getting worse and worse, even though my breathing is still fine. It’s the same problem I’m always struggling with. I pass the marathon mark in 2:32 and change. Soon after 44k it’s full stop. I hobble up to a fence and try to stretch it out. The other leg decides to join in. Great, cramps in both legs and still 6k to go. I try to stretch out both cramps, but as I’ve experienced before, it’s near impossible. Some spectators offer to help me, but I’m not allowed to receive any help. I’ll have to decline. “I’m fine, I’m fine.”, but of course I’m not. I make my way out on the road again. Ouch! Way too early. Back to the fence I go. It seems like everyone in the whole race is passing by. I hurt too much to care. Eventually I manage to get going again. My watch beeps and I don’t even want to know the split. 7:05. Merry fucking Christmas. Just get to the finish line and end this miserable race. My race ended a long time ago. Only the death march home remains. The last kilometers are all completed at around 4:00/km. Getting some water at the last station is also too much to ask for. I’m finally crossing the finish line. I’m just happy it’s over.
The official results list gives me a time of 3:08:23 and 36th place. Those 10 minutes disappeared quickly.
Why did it go wrong? I believe I ran a few seconds too fast at the start compared to fitness at the day. Especially since it was way warmer than I’m used to. I think I ran the race too much like a marathon, and didn’t have enough respect for the last 8k. A very painful lesson to learn. If you add in the trouble I had with getting enough water, it’s no wonder I failed.
Even though the race didn’t go to plan, it was still a great experience to be allowed to run for my country. That’s something I’ll never forget. I gained some valuable experiences that I’ll try to learn from in the coming years. Sometimes you have to take a few steps back to see the whole picture. Who would have thought I would ever run a world championships race for my country, after my 4:35 marathon debut back in 2013? No one.
The race on Strava. You can follow my training on IG as well if you're interested.
Feel free to ask any questions you might have!
Posted Oct 25, 2019, 9:38 PM UTC
I think not having your own bottles at the table on the other end of the loop put you at a massive disadvantage, especially in warm weather.
Any idea why your national organization decided not to bring anybody to serve at the aid stations?
Yeah, I agree about that. I guess the answer is money. Not a lot of money is available for the ultra marathon championships. We didn't have a team leader or anyone with us at all.