Here we go – with a look back
My injured left leg is getting better every day.
For me, the first Sunday in November is always associated with the legendary New York City Marathon.
It went like this: in 1986, in a group that was staying on our farm for a few days, there was a fit young man who went running early every morning. Up until then, I had been a runner for several years, but had never in my life thought of taking part in a running competition. For me, running was pure joy, an expression of my attitude to life, living out my urge to move – a meditation to anchor my mind and soul in my body.
It was only natural that we runners immediately struck up a conversation. He told me that he was going to take part in the next New York Marathon, together with a dedicated group called “World Runners”, who were constantly fundraising for projects in the Third World under the motto “The Hunger Project – end world hunger”, our specific project was: financing the construction of drinking water wells in some African countries. I was immediately hooked and joined this group. I only had a few months of specific preparation, and as a greenhorn I naturally made a few mistakes. But I stood at the starting line on Staten Island in November 1986 full of anticipation, but also with a lot of respect for the “unknown”. For the first few kilometers, I was just in the fast lane, euphorized by the many enthusiastic and excited spectators.
I ran the half marathon in 1:26 hours, which gave me a bit of a shock and I suspected that I wouldn’t be able to keep up this pace until the finish.
At around the thirtieth kilometer, we crossed the last bridge into Manhattan onto the famous First Avenue. In the middle of this huge canyon of buildings and in front of thousands and thousands of spectators, I ran completely alone for a while, with a small group 30 meters in front of me and a group about 50 meters behind me. At that moment, someone called out to me: “Go on, Swiss World Runner!”, which went through me like a pleasant bolt of lightning and I shouted something back. Running in such an atmosphere – unique, with goose bumps!
Like many other runners – I “hit the wall”
On the last few kilometers I experienced the other side, the hammer man, or as the Americans say: “I hit the wall”, I dragged myself to the finish with severe leg cramps – and was infinitely happy. And with a time of 3:12 hours, I was also the second best of our group of 20. Rank 1550 out of 25,000 participants. I was more than satisfied with my very first running experience in an official competition, and then as a marathon runner. Many more were to follow.