HITTING THE BERLIN WALL
Brezhnev and Honecker’s Socialist Kiss mural on the Berlin Wall ©Nick Fewings
On Sunday, the 47th Berlin Marathon 2021 resumes after its Covid break. Ironically, it coincides with a historic election day. Almost 35,000 international runners will participate this year. On that same day, September 26th, after 16 years of German history, someone other than Angela Merkel will be elected Chancellor of Germany. Angie!
I wonder if that date’s a wise choice. Marathon logistics are massive disruptions of traffic. Will German voters make it to their ballots? The course snakes through the entire reunified capital, once divided by the infamous Berlin Wall, separating the Socialist East and the “free” West. The race course is also a crash course in European history as it passes the landmarks of the capital’s tumultuous history, from Reichstag to Checkpoint Charlie, Soviet tanks, to the Victory Monument with its golden angel greeting from 220 feet height.
For Berliners unfamiliar with such endeavors: a marathon is always 42 kilometers. Yes, you read that correctly. That's about as far as rushing from Glienicke Bridge, famous for conspicuous spy swaps during the Cold War, to the ill-conceived Berlin Schönefeld Airport, including a midway turnaround due to forgotten vaccination documents.
A few elite athletes like Hiwrot Kebrekidan or Kenenisa Bekele (both Ethiopians) aim for gold medals. Berlin is one of the most popular of the six Marathon Majors–Berlin, Boston, Chicago, London, New York, and Tokyo–because of its flat and fast course. World records have been broken here. Kenyan Eliud Kipchoge blazed memorably through the Brandenburg Gate in 2018 with a time of 2:01:39. He made it look easy.
A Berlin cab ride to the said airport would take twice as long. In a taxi, you’d be exposed to the obnoxious Berliner Schnauze (snout, irreverent mouth). A term of endearment that doesn’t come close to doing the most impolite, unwelcoming, and often xenophobic rhetoric justice. So if you’re betting on a cheering audience, you’re better off bringing your own or racing elsewhere. I moved my books and shoes three times to live in Berlin, and it never lasted very long.
Racing the Berlin Marathon is a different story. You don’t have to speak with anyone. I certainly wouldn’t be able to. Not that I want to win. Anything. I would be satisfied with the 19,876th place, my personal best, because I have yet to participate in a marathon. If I ever hit the notorious mid-run wall, I’d want it to be the Berlin Wall.
My passion for long-distance is young. Before the pandemic, I ran a handful of half marathons. Then the virus got in the way, and although there were no competitions, and I had to do it all on my own, my commitment was growing with every day of isolation.
I hated claustrophobic fitness or yoga studios even before the pandemic. The grunting of the muscular class, the micro-aggressions breathed out through the pelvic floor, the frantic standstill of the Peloton. Yes, I wanted to get fitter, but I run mainly for my head. The moving meditation gives me time to be alone with my thoughts. Multitasking impossible.
It's easy to see why others started running. Humans have been walking for millennia. You can do it on almost any terrain, theoretically at any time; you don't need any equipment, membership, or trainer. All you need is good running shoes. Some start at the age of six, others at 66. He considers three miles plenty, while she requires the challenge of an ultramarathon.
The marathon may have become a status symbol, but unlike a car or a precision watch, you can't buy it, you can’t outsource it, can’t boast yourself over the finish line. You have to do it yourself, train. Letting go of my extensive repertoire of lame excuses (bad weather, getting up early, pain here, then there) gave me confidence in my other capabilities. I can do so much more outside my comfort zone, even things that don’t involve legs or sweat. I developed a mental toughness–before I knew what that was. I apply the newfound resilience to everyday challenges, petty grievances, and debilitating occurrences, from single socks in the washer to cruel coworkers or the weather. Not quitting now and not quitting the minute after can turn your inner voice from nemesis to muse. It puts things into a bird’s eye perspective. Make you more serene. Zen.
So, if you are a Berliner, shut that Schnauze; if you live there, sorry pal, don't get upset about the barriers on your way to the ballot box. Could you make a detour to the race course? Deliberately. Watch. Since you’re here, you might as well cheer. Applaud a runner or several. Look them in the eyes when you do. Notice them looking back. Throw in your sunniest smile. Hold it until you see theirs. Shout out something motivational. “You got this! Looking strong!” You’ll be surprised how good that’ll make you feel.
Please don't voice your opinions. Do not judge or comment on people’s bodies or running styles. Show some respect for the strength and determination of these strangers. Remember, you’d die if you tried to run to your tobacco store.
Stay as long as you can but leave enough time to vote. Participating in the democratic process gives you agency. While you vote for the best party, you may feel invigorated by the contagious energy of the racers. They might inspire you to run yourself.
Initially, you may be delusional enough to think you can do better than all of them. Remember, your Berliner Schnauze isn’t going to help you. Humility and persistence are the names of the game. Start with a mile. Work your way up to two. Slowly. Don’t make excuses.
Take a few weeks before you increase to three miles without stopping, and so on. Sign up for small races in your community or join a group. You’ll be surprised how friendly runners are—even Berliners. Don’t wait until New Year. Now is the best time to make resolutions. Your future begins today. Quote Chancellor Merkel and start thinking in the first person plural.
September 2021
