A coincidental destination
I don’t remember exactly why I chose to run the Paris Marathon in 2002. I think it must have been because it took place in a weekend when I didn’t have the children at home and therefore wanted to get away and spend some time on my own. Marathon running had now become part of my lifestyle, and I was always interested in trying my hand at new runs and new challenges.
Sciatica
There were, however, obstacles to overcome before I could leave on that trip, and I was on the verge of having to cancel. Just less than a month before my departure date, I had a sudden pain in the back of my right thigh. I never found out how it started, but it turned out to be sciatica. Since my doctor didn’t seem to have a solution, I decided to take an alternative route, which to me is only natural. I found a female Chinese acupuncturist in Copenhagen whom I consulted regularly during the weeks prior to the run, but, obviously, I didn’t manage to do any training during that period.
During an Easter lunch less than a week before departure, I was in so much pain that I considered taking advantage of my travel insurance and staying at home. But when Easter was over, I decided to go anyway. I thought at least that I could relax and watch the marathon as a spectator.
In actual fact, I had dispatched a doctor’s declaration that my participation was defensible just before my sciatica showed up. This was required by the French authorities.
Arrival at the city of cities
I went on this trip with the Marathon Travel Club, which, unlike Albatros Travel, only organises trips in connection with marathons.
We were to meet at Copenhagen Airport on Friday 5th April at 7.30 in the morning, with our flight leaving an hour and a half later. On arrival at Charles de Gaulle, we went as a group to the Hotel Etoile Maillot where we were shown to our rooms. I shared a room with a young officer trainee, and he and I set off immediately with a couple of other people we had fallen into conversation with for the Expo, where we were to pick up our start numbers. We took the metro to Porte de Versailles and found the Parc des Expositions, where we located the Expo. Here we were given a bag containing a start number and a few other items. Then we spent a couple of hours looking round the many stands. My roommate had not brought any running shoes with him and intended to buy them here. I was totally taken aback because I had never run a marathon without running in my shoes very gradually first. But this meant nothing to him, he said. He found a suitable pair and did very well.
Late in the afternoon, we were at an information meeting at the Hotel Acacias, and later on I ate out with my new companions, after which we went for a walk along the big city streets.
Sightseeing day
A run had been arranged for us on Saturday morning between our hotel and the start area, so that we could get to know it. It wasn’t far away, so finding it would be no problem the next day.
We spent the afternoon sightseeing in Paris, finishing up at the Porte de Versailles where we were to attend a pasta party. We saw a lot that afternoon, and we also walked along some of the route we were to run the following day, though it was not possible to view the entire route.
My sciatica wasn’t entirely gone, although I felt much better than I did the week before; and during the sightseeing tour, I decided that I would attempt to run the next day.
Marathon de Paris
On Sunday 7th April, we got up early and had breakfast before meeting at the reception area at 7.45, ready to head for the start as a group. It was bitterly cold, but our guides had been provident indeed and taken along a roll of large plastic sacks. We cut holes in them for our heads and arms to use the sacks as protection against the wind until the race began.
The start was teeming with people, which aroused memories of the big city marathon I had run two and a half years earlier in Berlin. There were more than 30,000 people here. At the start was a Frenchman in shorts and a T-shirt standing quite close to me. It was obvious that the man was freezing cold. His teeth were chattering, and he was slapping himself on the thighs and arms to keep warm. For some reason, I had been given two plastic sacks and had put on both of them. I took one of them off and gave it to my frozen co-runner. We didn’t understand what each other said, but his grateful eyes said it all.
The starting pistol went off at 9 a.m. amid a mass of festive excess and colour. As in Berlin there was entertainment along the route, and creative runners also made their mark. Among others, there was a man dressed as a waiter with a bow tie, running with a tray carrying a bottle of water. I have no idea whether he managed to carry the tray throughout the race.
As always there were plenty of water stations, and at some point I arrived at one that wasn’t quite official. Here they were serving a dark fluid, and I asked with a smile if it might be red wine. “Yes” came the answer, but all the same I thought he was joking. He wasn’t. Well, if you shouldn’t drink red wine during a marathon in France I don’t know when you should.
We ran through the whole city along the route, passing all the famous places like the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe. At one stage, we ran through some road tunnels, where the traffic had been stopped for several hours. But it still smelled of vehicle fumes. We actually ran through the tunnel where Princess Diana and Dodi Al Fayed were so tragically killed in a car accident less than five years previously. It made you think.
The route from our hotel to the start was short, but the one from the finish was even shorter. We finished the run just before the street where the hotel was. I could no longer feel my sciatica although it must have limited me to some extent because I didn’t reach the finish until after 5:45:01. Even so I was happy, and satisfied with the fact that I’d finished the race against all odds.
Some say that injuries should be run off. That is probably not quite true. However, I actually felt better after the run and have not had sciatica since.
Victory dinner
The Danes met in the bar towards the end of the afternoon to drink to each other and exchange anecdotes from the day’s marathon. Later, we went out together for a delicious meal. After that I was tired and went back to the hotel to sleep, something I later regretted because the others had enjoyed a visit to the Latin Quarter. I should have ignored my fatigue and joined them.
Departure
We had Monday morning and afternoon to ourselves, and I went off to enjoy the city with some of the others. We met later in the afternoon in the hotel reception ready for departure, and by 21.20 p.m. we had arrived back at Copenhagen Airport.
I was very pleased to have gone on the trip. My sciatica had disappeared; I felt that I had recharged my batteries and was ready once again to take on everyday life.
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