An awful run-up
Just nineteen days after the Paris Marathon, things went wrong again. It was a bank holiday. I had been to a 40th birthday party and was walking home. Whether it was the poor quality of the pavement or the alcohol I had consumed, I don’t know. The fact is, though, that I twisted my ankle rather badly and sprained it. When I got home, I went straight to bed instead of bandaging my foot and applying an ice cold compression. As a result, I had to go to accident and emergency the following day.
After that, I was unable to train and naturally had my doubts about being able to run in China less than a month after the critical fall. But cancellation was out of the question. Søren had promised me the next trip if I ran this next marathon. It was not just the trip I was thinking of, though, because I also wanted to run. I actually felt that I was prepared to hop all the way round on one leg if necessary!
Again, this situation was an example of my sense of justice and stubbornness. Søren had promised me a fifth trip if I participated in 2002; and even though his offer was not conditional on my completing the marathon, it would be unthinkable for me to accept a free trip I hadn’t deserved. Just like at the very first Great Wall Marathon when I had to run to deserve my T-shirt, I was, this time, determined to complete the race in order to deserve my “bonus trip”.
Ghost of 9/11
After the first run with Danish runners only, we were in the minority after 2001. This was to be expected also in the future because the run was under ferocious development. However, the organisers did not expect much demand from the United States market because of the tragic events of 11th September 2001. For this reason, the organisers shelved their limit on participant numbers.
The joy of recognition
On this trip, I was joined by a new girlfriend whom I had met late the previous summer. Our relationship only lasted a bit over a year, so this was our only trip together. Because I would be travelling with someone who’d never previously visited Beijing, it was obvious to do all the guided tours and see all the sights, so we signed up with group 7 which consisted of seven tourists and a guide.
We flew out of Copenhagen Airport on the evening of 19th May and landed during Monday morning in Beijing. The first day was a bit of a repeat of what I’d experienced before, and we arrived in the middle of the afternoon at the Beijing International Hotel, which was on a par in all respects with the hotels on the first two trips. So it was very much one class up compared to the Olympic Hotel of the third year.
During the days that followed, we toured the traditional – I am tempted to say the usual – sights. But there were some changes to the programme, which meant new experiences for me. Among other things, we visited a neighbourhood committee and heard about its duties in society. The neighbourhood committee performs tasks related to local self-government and social problems, checking, for example, that people abide by the one-child-only policy. We also attended a tea ceremony at a special tea house, where they told us all about the preparation and consumption of green tea. A tea ceremony is a purely aesthetic affair, the correct performance of which is seen as part of a woman’s general education. Both visits were extremely interesting and rewarding.
New role as a model
On Thursday 23rd May, we got up early to go on the traditional inspection tour to Yin and Yang Square. As on the first trips we returned to our hotel on the same day, which made for some long bus journeys.
At one corner of Yin and Yang Square was a stall run by the company www.marathon-photos.com, which takes photos and sells them over the Internet. They had set up a large wall of photographs from the previous year as a teaser. In one corner, there was a giant poster with The Great Wall Marathon along the top and their web address along the bottom. In between were a large picture of the Wall and a smaller picture of me crossing the line the previous year. In another corner, they had a similar poster, but this was just a large photo of me. The fun thing about it was that, in the background, you could see a little boy. It was Emil watching his dad cross the line. I asked the man if I could buy the posters from him after the race on Saturday, but that was not possible. They were going to be used in a similar exhibit in New Zealand. But I noted down who had printed the posters, and when I got home I managed to get hold of both of them. They have since been hanging in a glass frame in my office. I love that photo of me crossing the line. I have my arms in the air and am beaming with pleasure. It demonstrates my love of The Great Wall Marathon in every way.
The inspection day was otherwise as before, although we had to hand over tickets this time to get our lunch. This hadn’t happened before, but from then on tickets were the norm at this kind of event.
A dismal prognosis
During the days we spent in Beijing; I paid to have my bad foot massaged, and on the evening before the run I decided to have the hotel masseur give me my last treatment. I had my bad foot massaged, as well as both legs. My foot was still sore, although it was getting better. On the other hand, though, it was still slightly swollen. I tried to communicate with the masseur to hear his opinion of my foot, but as so often before it was impossible to carry on a comprehensible dialogue. I did, however, manage to use sign language to get him to come up to the reception with me, where they would be able to interpret. The masseur’s judgement was inexorable. He didn’t think I would be able to run a marathon the following day.
A race against all odds
The marathon was run on Saturday 25th May, more or less at the same time in the month as the three first marathons. The bus left Beijing at three in the morning, and again we were given breakfast in boxes on the bus.
The hairs on my left leg had been shaved off the previous evening to accommodate the sports tape I would be running with. A nurse from our group had taken on the task of taping up my left foot with the tape I had brought along with me, and she did a very professional job of it. When the bus stopped for the first time to allow people to relieve themselves, and we got off, I could really feel that my foot had been taped up. My immediate impression was that I couldn’t imagine being able to run with this leg. But as it turned out, the tape became more elastic after I used my foot.
As was the case the previous year, the race started at 7.30 a.m. To begin with I had pain in my foot but it didn’t last long, and I soon didn’t notice it anymore. My total lack of training, however, meant that I was not fast in any sense of the word, and I deliberately chose a slow strategy, aiming to take at least seven hours to complete the marathon.
Banana crisis
On this occasion, it was also very hot, and as the day wore on I became utterly exhausted, which I’m sure was due to a combination of factors. In my exhausted state, I fell twice and sustained a few scratches and bruises. On both occasions, I was helped back on my feet by fellow runners. At a time like this, it is very easy to get bowled over, which was soon to be very obvious. At one water station, they were giving out bananas, and I also got one. But 100 metres later, the banana broke in two, and half of it fell onto the dirty stone road. I would not normally have been affected by the loss of half a banana, and if it hadn’t been given to me, I probably wouldn’t have missed it. But this time losing this half banana drove me to the brink of breaking down and crying out of sheer despair.
I soon reached the medical tent where I poured cold water over my head and body. After the blisters I got in 2000, I hadn’t dared do this the past two years, but this time I could feel how the cooling water gave me renewed strength. All I had to do was to make sure that the water didn’t run down into my shoes.
Hell across the Wall
I succeeded in getting back to Yin and Yang Square just after one o’clock in the afternoon, which was very satisfying. This gave me two and half hours to manage the last eight kilometres which ought to be possible, though I was soon to find out that I was up against very powerful forces.
On the first part of the Wall, I had to negotiate the goat track. This was extremely tough going, and I had no option but to sit down on several occasions to rest. This was extremely stressful, as I realised that taking too many breaks would cost time and might ultimately mean that I exceeded the time limit. It didn’t help that I started getting cramp in both legs. I was in a deep crisis, sure that I would have to drop out. An elderly American runner was being helped down the goat track by an official, and I was convinced I was going to be next.
I was overwhelmed by panic and frustration. For me, completing the run was the difference between total victory and total failure. My most important performance of the year was at stake, and I was about to fail for the first time on this marathon. I thought once again of Søren’s offer of a free trip in 2003. I wouldn’t be able to accept it, if I didn’t complete this race. I shouted and screamed swear words over the edge of the Wall, as I tugged at my hair. A woman passer-by reminded me that it was no shame to drop out, but for me, this was simply not an option. I, therefore, tried out alternative gaits in order to keep going, albeit at a slower pace. First I took a few steps backwards, then sideways to the right and sideways to the left.
On the steeply descending gravel path, I suddenly fell face forward into the abyss. My water bottle ended up way off, and I sustained cuts and bruises on several parts of my body. I lay there exhausted until two Chinese stewards helped me back onto my feet.
It was a wonder that I succeeded in crossing the Wall at all. It was now 14.29 p.m., so it had taken me an hour and a half to manage three and a half kilometres.
The age of miracles is not over
After I had crossed the Wall, I began to be a bit more positive about the rest. Now there were only five kilometres left down the mountain we had set out from, and I was now able to run once in a while. It soon became apparent that I wouldn’t have any trouble getting to the finish in time. A couple of kilometres short of the finish, I came alongside an elderly Danish lady who was walking. We started chatting, and I ended up accompanying her along the final stretch. We didn’t start running until the entrance to Yin and Yang Square. We did, after all, have our pride to consider.
Crossing the line was an effervescently delightful feeling, and I was given a great big hug by Thomas, as he hung the medal round my neck. My finishing time was 7:46:18 which meant I was number 181 out of the 186 men who finished the marathon. The time limit was eight hours, so I had been pretty close. But my time and position meant little to me. The main thing was that I completed the marathon.
Surprisingly enough, I felt reasonably fit. I was actually able to walk up the steps of the stands on the square. Even more surprising was that I had run off my ankle sprain altogether. It felt perfectly okay, and the pain never returned.
Some statistics
It was expected that there would be fewer runners than the previous year, and there were, although not that many fewer. The full and half marathon distances were completed by 414 runners from 23 nations, while ten runners were taken out because they would have exceeded the eight-hour limit. The heat also claimed victims, with seven runners dehydrating and requiring drips, though they did quickly recover.
Zi Jixiang won the men’s race again with a time of 3:41:30, which was nine minutes faster than the previous year. He is still the only person to have won this spectacular marathon twice. He hasn’t run since.
The women’s race was won by a Dane, Lisbeth Sejersbøl, with a time of 4:12:42.
Carousel restaurant
We ate supper on race day in the hotel restaurant on the 28th floor with a wonderful view of the city. We found a place where we thought the view was particularly special, and a delicious buffet meal was served. The food was on a table at the centre of the room, and at one stage I got rather confused because our seats seemed to have moved. It turned out that the eating section of the restaurant was slowly rotating to give visitors a 360 degree view of Beijing. Only the buffet in the middle was stationary. I wasn’t particularly hungry, which is not unusual after a run, so I didn’t get much food for my money. The incredible view, on the other hand, was worth every penny.
Gala dinner in full regalia
At the gala dinner on Sunday evening, I allowed myself to be inspired by Ingvor’s words the year before: “If you’re not going to air them at an event like this, when are you going to?” I had brought my earlier medals with me, but was unable to wear all four around my neck without them getting in a tangle. I, therefore, decided to sew the first three of them onto the left breast pocket of my jacket, so now I looked like a copiously decorated general. I wore the new medal round my neck.
As in previous years, the gala dinner was a buffet with speeches, entertainment and the presentation of prizes. This year the after dinner party was held at another location in town, and it has been like this ever since.
That year I didn’t take part in the after party but took a taxi back to the hotel at 10 o’clock. However, I have never since stayed away from this.
I ended this trip happy and contented. Completing The Great Wall Marathon was the biggest target of my year. I nearly missed this time but didn’t.
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