Where should I start? „At the beginning,“ a commentator from the Hispaman Forum wrote in my post that said that it would be difficult for me to write down what I experienced with Hispaman in Spain. „What’s the beginning?“ I asked back. The registration? The swim start? The run? The idea that a race on the xtri World Tour would give me something? The promise of Xavi, whom I knew from the Norseman, to accompany me?

Nur ein Bild in diesem Blog. Es sagt mehr als die folgenden 1000 Worte

Where started what ended at three in the morning in Vistabella del Maestrat between Barcelona and Valencia? With a liberated laugh between the salted skin folds and the bright eyes? There is not a single picture of me where I am beaming that much – happy. I finished last. It took no one longer than me for the iron man distance, peppered with 3400 vertical meters in the bike course and 2000 vertical meters (and more than 1000 down!) In the marathon.

It was close. I was traveling for 19 hours and 38 minutes, according to the organizer. 12 minutes later – and my time would no longer have counted.

Be the last. Full of pride. Loose. In tune with myself up to a degree I didn’t know I was capable to achieve

I was probably never with myself in anything I did like I was in Hispaman.

I completely repressed the fact that my goal of arriving was in jeopardy all the time.

I should have known.

I didn’t calculate it at all, not “doing the maths of trail running” as Xavi called it.

I was just going to do what I did. Empty of thoughts, at the moment. Nervous? Why? 6pm start the marathon? It’s okay, I would have until 3:00. A whole nine hours for 42 kilometers. You can do that. So I started. So without thinking too much, I thought I could somehow complete the 42km in 9 hours. Ignorance is bliss – ignorance protects.

And I could have walked, firmly believing that brisk walking would be enough. But it’s not in a race that leads through the undergrowth, where every step needs to be considered and where thanks to the darkness you can see nothing at all. I had to search for my way more than once with the headlamp, twice I called the race director, who thanks to the GPS transmitter was able to tell me where I was – but not really where to turn.

Then my tracker in my backpack slid down so far that it was no longer received – Xavi was worried and about to run towards me. Then I turned around the corner as if nothing was had happened or went wrong – it wasn’t – for me. I was just thoughtless. It worked. Concern? Why? I also had no energy to work out whether that was enough. Xavi had said on Friday – one hour swimming, nine hours cycling and nine hours running. I assumed that he was basically talking about the race – but he meant me.

I did not understand that at the moment. I completed the bike route in the Norseman 2018 in seven hours at a similar altitude. So I expected maybe 8 hours, maybe 8.5. I needed 9 hours 18 minutes, of which 28 minutes were breaks for meals. I did not notice at all. I thought it was less. Especially since I kept driving past signs that the organizers had put up to let them know in what time frame the inhabitants of the region had to expect the competition. I was in the window. Maybe this time window was a little dirty.

Exhaustion or not – you can run when you have to. You do that and it works. Before that, only the head says: Nah, let it go. As soon as he realizes that it has to make the legs run again – it works. I was surprised at myself. 18 hours of sports and I still had the energy to run the flat passages of the hiking trail.

But that was only necessary in the very last section, 9 kilometers – including an apparently harmless 300 vertical meters. Lights came closer behind me, then two runners passed me – running. I was still joking where they still got the energy. I also wanted to let pass the next two. But those were the crew members who collected the route markings that I had feverishly searched for all night. They made Xavi understand that I could do it, but I shouldn’t dawdle anymore. I would have to run the flat passages, said Xavi. And I ran. And it went well. I was unstable in my hips for a long time, my feet twisted more often than in my entire career. No matter. I ran.

„Why are you doing such torments to yourself?“ people asked me afterwards? Torments? It was just exhausting!?!?!?!? You can do that. You do that, I think, because you can see yourself anew. In addition to the fascination of sport in remote nature, yes, wilderness in my eyes. Sure, I just enjoy intense experiences. Do you always have to jazz up and go one step further into the extremes? I do not hope so. My old body would not find it so beautiful. I don’t believe it’s going to happen, I assume that it is enough to be open to beautiful landscapes, for community, for experiences. See and do new things. This can also be a much easier competition. I hope.

Whether there is a kind of addiction to constantly expose yourself to new things that ultimately overwhelm you. Possible. I don’t know. I will find out.

Being last. If someone had told me that I thought it was great – I would not have believed it. I’m not last – it just took me longer than everyone else. Perhaps it is difficult to understand the difference, I can clearly feel it. It is not a competition against the others, although there were of course winners. But I do know that every participant knows what everyone has done. And acknowledges this effort.

Usually the idea of how I wrap a competition for this blog grows in my head during the competition. This time: cabbage and beets. Wildly confused. Are you kidding about the newly discovered love for reflective signposts? A joke about Xavi’s friend Christian – who finished seventh in his first triathlon – which was longer than an Olympic discipline – five hours faster than me. The night before, he asked me if I had any more tips – I had none other than „Enjoy it and take wet toilet paper.“ I don’t see this competition yet. It will take a lot longer than usual for things to settle down and I can see what happened there.

I liked myself. Who does often feel sympathy for himself, who takes a step aside and thinks: Does she or he do well? There was this one situation where I just didn’t find the trail. I looked at a reflection several times and decided that it was more likely the rest of a chewing gum paper or a mineral reflection. I walked in the wrong direction again, then finally gave up – and went back to the guide and asked for directions when even the racedirector couldn’t help me over the phone.

I thought – well, it may have been here for you, but just keep going. Despair? Not a trace. The way had to be somewhere. Well, I had lost time and Xavi said that I would have to be at the next stop in two hours – luck in misfortune – the following descent after a leg-scratching climb through the undergrowth was then slightly sloping on a good dirt road for a few kilometers. I could run. And I ran. Feels relaxed, and not too slow considering the previous effort. Looking back at that moment, I thought: You did well. Remain calm, look for a solution, continue undeterred – then the efforts are just that: efforts. Xavi listened to my story while we were on the last section. Yes, maybe that cost me time. But after that I ran fast, faster than any other section of the day. Otherwise I might not have made it. So it’s all a question of balance. Maybe I met my inner center in Spain. The place where it all starts.