I knew what I was getting myself into when I signed up to run September’s Berlin Marathon—I’d run New York’s two years earlier. But it surprised me all over again, training in the fullness of summer, how different the days could feel.
No two runs were the same. Sometimes I felt light as a feather, my feet barely registering the asphalt. Other days were tougher, my legs moving heavily through the heat. There were moments when I felt completely free, in tune with my body yet detached from it mentally. And then there were miles of acute awareness, each step nudging the vanishingly thin line between pain and pleasure.
I recorded my miles, down to the millisecond, in a small notebook, along with miscellaneous notes: how hot and humid it was that day, how many gels I had. I’d done the same for New York, but with less detail. This time, I was trying to best my first time (about 4:14) and maybe, just maybe, run a sub 4; putting pen to paper gave that project greater weight.
The rare thing that largely stayed the same during my training? My gear. I wore the bare minimum whenever I could, putting all the pockets in my shorts and sports bra to use. I memorized the location of every water fountain in Prospect Park—and along the West Side Highway, too.
Since Adidas had generously invited me to run the Berlin marathon, I trained in their Adizero EVO SL model—an everyday sneaker that’s incredibly light yet still supportive and cushioned—and the Adios Pro 4. The latter, a race-day shoe I saved for my long Sunday runs and the marathon itself, was part of a collab with French running brand Satisfy that had come out in the spring. (The Adios Pro 5, a newer model, was released shortly before Berlin, but I felt oddly superstitious about swapping pairs at the last minute.)
Nerves settled into excitement the week of the race, and as I got ready that Sunday morning, I felt a little like Lara Croft in Tomb Raider, with my phone and all my Maurten gels tucked into the front pockets of my sports bra. Jittery, I pinned my bib to my shorts, laced up my shoes, and, well, you can imagine the rest.
I ultimately crossed the finish line in about four hours—3:59:59, if I go by the watch, or 4:04 according to the bib’s tracking. I’m happy either way.
