When I was visiting Berlin, The Wall was the first thing I headed out to see the day following my arrival, after having a good night’s rest at the hostel. This is the 20th year following its fall, and today, 9 November, happens to be the anniversary of the Fall of the Wall.

Saying that I headed out to “see The Wall” may sound misleading, because there is really no one location where the wall is. The Berlin Wall was a boundary, a wall, literally, that divided Berlin into East and West and separated West Berlin from the East German territory that surrounded it.

20 years on, the wall has long been torn down and the former East and West Berlin is now one city. Although there is no one place in Berlin called “The Wall”, a Wall Memorial does exist and several locations with remains of the old wall can still be found. If you pay attention, as you walk along the streets with which The Wall once intersected, you will find the trace of a path intentionally built into the streets, marking the position that was once taken up by The Wall.

So perhaps as you drive along Potsdammer Strasse towards Potsdammer Platz, you may come across a narrow strip across the road made of bricks. This was where The Wall once stood. Perhaps as you stroll along the pavement near the Sony Centre, you may find a strip of the pavement that is indented, like what you see in the picture above. This was where The Wall once stood.

Even though it was known as the Berlin Wall, the boundary dividing the East and the West actually had more than one wall. At the Wall Memorial along Bernauer Strasse, an observation deck allows visitors to contemplate on a reproduction of the wall at that location. There was a a wall on the East German side and another on the West German side. Between these two walls was “No-man’s Land”, or the Death Strip. It was heavily guarded and was made to be escapee-proof. Mines were laid at some stretches to deter people from making forbidden crossings.

Taking a peek through a crack in the reconstructed wall from the “East German” side at the Wall Memorial.

As I learned from the museum’s exhibits at the Wall Memorial, The Wall was not built in one day. After the Second World War, Berlin was divided into the American, French, British and USSR-occupied zones. The USSR-occupied zone would later become East Germany. How The Wall came about started with East Germany beginning to restrict its residents from crossing over to West Germany. Road barriers made of barbed wires were set up overnight blocking access between the USSR-occupied zone from the rest of Berlin.

Film footage at the museum showed scenes shot at Bernauer Strasse, along which the border between the French-occupied and USSR-occupied zones ran. In the footage, Berliners, east and west, stood and watch the barriers made of barbed wires being laid. Later, columns would be erected to set up a more rigid form of barrier. In a scene, a young woman waved from one side of the division to somebody on the other side, possibly somebody dear to her, a handkerchief in her waving hand, dabbing her eyes with it from time to time. The fence-like barrier would in turn evolve into a wall, and the wall, eventually, over the years, into a security installation. Could anyone have imagined how those first barbed wires could have turned into The Berlin Wall?

The former East German side, bordered by Bernauer Strasse. A panel by the street here indicates that tunnels were found in one of these houses and were used by East German in their attempt to move to West Berlin.

The same location on Bernauer Strasse, but looking towards the former West German side.

Engraving at one end of the Wall Memorial

The Wall Memorial and the observation deck at the Documentation Centre.

Like the rest of the city, the wall no longer stood as imposing as it did. The stretch of wall that remains along Bernauer Strasse is now a reminder of the city’s history. The city has moved on during the past 20 years and will continue to. 20 years on, the city and the world remembers.

Exhibits at Potsdammer Platz, outside the Sony Centre. This was an original piece of the wall. Panels with photographs and text were affixed to the other side.

One of the exhibition panels at Potsdammer Platz showing Brandenburg Gate behind The Wall. The sign reads, “Caution, you are leaving West Berlin” or something like that. During those days, Brandenburg Gate stood on the deserted No-man’s Land.

It has been over a month since I ran Berlin. I have done very little running since I got back to Atlanta. The pain that Berlin brought to my body had made me consider resting for a while, stretch, strengthen and, if possible, “correct” my body to get it stronger and ready for the next race. So I guess I will not be doing the half marathon on Thanksgiving Day. Nonetheless, I still want to complete this post to record my experience at Berlin for future reference.

For Marathons, I usually plan for up to 5 months of training. Besides the program itself there are many factors that will affect how a race turns out. Every race is different. That refers to not just the race itself, but also to the few months of preparation before the race.

There are some plans that I thought worked well for me in one race. I try to repeat that for another race, but that race may give me a very different result. That is simply because there are other factors that come into play and in the first place, what I thought was the right thing to do may not neccessarily be *THE* right thing anyway.

Berlin is my 5th Marathon. So, what problems had I faced during the run? What are some of the information related to my preparation and the race itself that are noteworthy in a post-mortem?

1) Race day conditions

Temperature – mid-teens at race start; around 25 degrees Celcius later in the day
Shoes – Nike Air Structure Triax 11, with 370 miles already clocked
Water stops – ample; the Basica sports drink was something new
Nutrition – GU gel at 8 and 16 km; Kit Kats at 24 and 32 km; bananas at 20, 25, 30 and 35 km

2) Physical condition on race day

First half – generally felt great; comfortable 6.45 s/km pace; slight lower back pain towards the end; slightly strained left sole throughout
21 to 27 km – signs of left knee pain characteristic of ITBS; signs of pain at left hip joint; continued lower back pain, but seemed to go away with slight adjustment of posture; hints of cramp in inner thighs
27 km – had to stretch ITB, try to loosen up thighs; started running again, but soon had to walk and stretch again
Thereafter – Combination of stretch-walk-run and eventually 100% walk; main complaints were hip and knee pains and thigh cramps; strain in left sole aggravated

3) Training

Total mileage 371 miles
Weekly mileage up to 38 miles
Besides the Sunday long runs, the longest run in the week has been increased to 12 miles towards the end of the training period.
Did a few interval trainings, probably not as many as the previous year.
No serious tempo runs.
Minimal running in the gym, so not much running on the treadmill that kept me running at a consistent pace.
Weekly crunches and pushups to train the core.
Taichi once a week.
No warm up race due to timing (The Buckhead Sizzler was held after Berlin).
Did not stretch as much as I should have. ITB felt tight throughout the season, though it had not given me problems during training.

4) Pre-race

Fell sick after final long run, 3 weeks to the race.
No running after that, except for a couple of 2-mile stints 2 weeks before the race.
Have had to be out for work more often this year and as a result, had been walking around in heels more often than last year.

5) 1 week prior to the race

This was the fun part.
Arrived in Berlin the Monday before race Sunday.
No issues with jet lag.
Spent the entire week, up till Friday, sightseeing, on foot. Even on race day’s eve, I was still walking around a fair bit, though I made an effort to walk less. Wore old walking shoes that were reasonably worn. I aleady felt the strain in my left foot on the sightseeing days.
Carried a fairly heavy load while walking around in Berlin – backpack with water, jacket, tripod and some valuables, with camera slung over my shoulder. Was having backaches as a result of walking around with the load.

Summing up, I guess the basis of my problems during the race was related to biomechanmical imperfections. Adding to that, I had not done sufficient stretching this season to loosen up my muscles. Walking around in heels might have caused strains to my legs and tightened up some muscles as well. My training had probably also not been “hard” enough and the 3-week break to recover from my sickness could have made me lose some form too. Finally, even though I tried to remind myself not to be an ambitious tourist in Berlin, I was not very successful at doing that. The walking around definitely affected my feet such that I did not have “fresh legs” to start the race.

Voilà my post-mortem on Berlin.

When I got back to Atlanta, I had thought of visiting a sports chiropractor to do an assessment on my biomechanics. However, the amount of fees he charged made me fall off my chair. I had to be prepared to pay more than $200 for the first consultation. That was only the first consultation! Well, it is not as if I am 15 minutes from qualifying for Boston and paying so much money will make it all worthwhile. I decided to take a more economical and practical approach. Massage and pilates are what I am going for now.

As I write this, the dust has already settled on the race track. In fact, workers are in the process of tearing the Marina race track apart to make way for regular traffic on Tuesday.

Last year, I watched the race live on TV in the US on a Sunday morning and wished that I was here. This year, I am here. Indeed, the sensation is completely different – watching images of cars racing on the circuit glowing in the dark beamed to my living room and being right in the middle of it, listening to the sounds from the engines reverberate through the built up Marina and City Hall areas.

This race weekend was also a photo outing for me. I decided to take most of my photographs during the practice and qualifying sessions and spend most of the time during the race watching the race itself.

I carried my modest 17-70 mm lenses to the track, where I saw many other photography enthusiasts show up with their humongous telephoto lenses. Even my tripod, the one that is compact enough for me to be willing to carry it with me when I travel, appeared wimpy in the presence of their more sturdy and taller ones.

Never mind, we work with the gear we have and learn to be creative with it. That can be said very easily, but for a moment, I was at a loss of what to do when faced with the low lighting conditions and the very fast cars. For a number of shots, I ended up shooting the fence, or the track, or anything, except the cars.

While on one end of the spectrum, we have the well-equipped photographers, there were many spectators with equipment that belonged to the other end of the spectrum. More than once, I peeked over their shoulders to steal a glance at the LCD screens on their PhD* cameras. Hey, these people actually managed to capture the cars in their shots. Well, if everybody else could why couldn’t I?

Think, think, think… I had to think – what could I do with my camera? What could I try? I think I eventually “got it”, and I managed to get a few decent shots. The race track was lit, I had my camera, and I was able to capture some of the action.

* Press here, dummy!

This time, 27 km was the limit. Hip pains, thigh cramps, knee pains and feet strains all came into play. It started out as a stretch-run-walk routine, but I soon figured that I would be better off walking most of the remaining distance.

The will was there. I began counting, kilometre by kilometre, … 32-33-34… It did take a good bit of will to keep going. As the count went from the low thirties to the high thirties, a few people appearing along different parts of the course began to catch my attention.

To be exact, it was not the people who caught my eyes. It was that ribbon that they wore around their necks. A ribbon with black, red and gold stripes, from which hung the finishers’ medal.

Black, red and gold, these are colours familiar to me. When I was a teenager, I had weaved a wrist band of these colours and tied it to the strap of my bag during the World Cup seasons in support of the German team. Now I had a chance of earning a medal with a ribbon of these exact colours and seeing it just brought back some memories. I wanted that medal, but to get it, I should not let myself faint, cramp and collapse or simply give up before crossing the finish line.

Once I had my black, red and gold ribbon around my very own neck, I got to take a close look at the medal. On its front side is the face of Haile Gebrselassie, with his world record timing of 2:03:59 h engraved on it. This is the time he set in Berlin in 2008, the first time a runner ever broke the 2:04 barrier. The engraving on this year’s medal commemorates his record-setting feat last year.

The other side of the medal is the obligatory text showing the event, the date and the year. As image, it shows that famous moment as Haile crossed the finish line last year, arms in the air, a wide smile across his face.

Actually, the race magazine given out at the expo had a column describing the design of this year’s medal. I did not read it the night before the race as I was busy packing and memorising the water and refreshment points.

This one is definitely something different from the medals that carry the same designs year after year, except for their dates. I like it!

Here we go, Brandenburg Gate, built during the Prussian times as a ciy gate to Berlin, survived World War II, and during the years when the Wall still stood, found itself in no-man’s land and often seen in footages that covered Western leaders’ visits.

Sunday, we will all be running through the gate. When that happens, the finish line will be real close.

After training and racing for about 2.5 years with all my distances measured in miles, my internal pace converter has been calibrated to work with distances in miles. In Berlin, the course will be marked in kilometres. The change in units may simply throw my internal system into a state of chaos and I feel that I need to lay this out in front of me to see.

Distance conversion:

• 5 miles – 8 km
• 10 miles – 16 km
• 15 miles – 24 km
• 20 miles – a little more than 32 km
• 22 miles – about 35 km, more like 35 and a half, i.e. around 7 km more to go
• 24 miles – over 38 km, i.e. less than 4 km more to go
• 25 miles – 40 km plus a couple of hundred metres, i.e. about 2 km more to go
• Counting the 2 km that remain should not be too difficult

Pace conversion, which is the harder one:

• 13′00″ /mile – 8′08″ /km
• 12′30″ /mile – 7′49″ /km
• 12′00″ /mile – 7′30″ /km
• 11′45″ /mile – 7′21″ /km
• 11′30″ /mile – 7′11″ /km
• 11′15″ /mile – 7′02″ /km
• 11′00″ /mile – 6′53″ /km
• 10′45″ /mile – 6′43″ /km
• 10′30″ /mile – 6′34″ /km
• 10′15 /mile – 6′24″ /km
• 10′00″/mile – 6′15″ /km
• Any faster than that, I would be killing myself

I have said before that not having hills to confront in Berlin, the mind and body can focus on other tough aspects of the race. However, I do not want my brain to be preoccupied with doing math as I run. I will be rereading this post every now and then in the coming week. At some point, I will internalise the numbers. This is some kind of mental preparation for me.

I did my final long run this past Sunday. 22 miles on a Sunday morning is a daunting thought. I was looking forward to tapering and to not having to drag myself out of bed at 4 or 5+ on Sunday mornings any more. I have been having problem falling asleep Saturday nights and have been doing my Sunday runs with insufficient rest.

I felt lousy during the run this Sunday. The mind was not there. The body loses it when the mind is not in control. Still, I made myself complete my run. And you know it when your body is about to lose it. Long runs are taxing to the body. I have came across articles that say that a runner’s immune system is generally weaker after running a marathon. The truth is, it does not even have to be a marathon, all it took was a long run like what I had this past Sunday to make my body feel so vulnerable.

Sunday afternoon, I felt as though my body was ready to open its doors to viruses and bacteria. Sunday night, I took a plane to Nashville for a meeting the following day. The flight was delayed and I had to spend some time at the airport where the air conditioning was cooler that I had expected. Nashville’s nocturnal air was pretty cool too and I probably caught a chill that evening. I went to bed immediately after arriving at the hotel, exhausted.

Monday, my sore throat began to make its presence felt. Tuesday, my nose started to leak. Wednesday, I felt groggy waking up. I did not work, went to the doctor, who reassured me that it was not the flu. While it feels miserable to be sick, earning some time off to rest is a nice break from the laborious routine. Not something I wanted to happen during my taper period, but well, what else can I do now apart from rest?

So says the letter that came attached in an email:

Dear participant, you are registered for the 36th real,- BERLIN- MARATHON 2009 under the race number shown on your address label.

The Berlin Marathon is one of the 5 races in the World Marathon Majors circuit (the other 4 being Boston, London, Chicago and New York). Besides having an international elite field, these races also have very large mass participatory entries. This year, 40,000 runners are expected in Berlin.

Berlin has a fast and flat course. It was here, in 2007 and 2008, that the men’s world record was set and reset by Haile Gebrselassie. He will be in the elite starting field again in September, making another attempt to better his own record of 2:03:59.

Running on a course where world records were set is good news for lesser runners like me. This indicates that the course is “easier” to run. With hills out of the way, the mind and body can focus on other tough aspects of the 42.195 km.

After a week’s rest with absolutely no running at all, I am into the final phase of my training. That means 3 more weeks of very long runs and quality runs.

That is not to say that I feel very well-prepared for this race. I still have the feeling that something is amiss. It may be that I have not done enough work on strength and I have definitely neglected stretching.

As I try to juggle training, work and working in time for strengthening and stretching exercises, I am really looking forward to visiting Berlin. From what I have found out thus far, it seems to be a buzzing city, both culturally and historically rich, with plenty of things to do. Planning my visit, that too, is part of my preparation for Berlin 20.09.2009.

The Peachtree Road Race has become an annual ritual for me by now. The running takes place on 4th of July every year, but that is only the second step of the annual ritual. The first step takes place way back in March, where runners would submit their registration. Those who register before the quota fills up get to receive a number and run.

The race starts at 7.30 am, but with the more than 50,000 participants, the event adopts a “wave start” approach. That is runners are divided into groups and each group has its own starting time, minutes apart from each other. The first digit of your race number tells you which time group you are in. This year I was in group 7, scheduled to start at 8.33 am.

In the past years, I would arrive in time for the official start and listen to people sing the Start-Spangled Banner. I would wait in my time group’s holding area and have my already warmed up body  cooled down from the wait before I could actually run. This year, I arrived way after Time Group 1 set off, but in time for the start of Time Group 7.

Running the course, like I said last year, need not be taken too seriously. I just ran, treated it as another training run, but soaking in the cheers from the spectators. Once a year, we all take part in these festivities of the City of Atlanta. Finish the 10k, and earn another t-shirt to add to the collection.

Yet another July 4th, yet another fireworks spectacle at Centennial Olympic Park. Lesson learned from this year’s photo shoot is that too much exposure burns the smoke into the pictures. I played cheat this time. The fireworks pictures on my Flickr stream have been edited – for exposure and composition. Next time, I have to be more mindful of my exposure.