You can’t always change a situation but you can change your attitude towards it
By the time Gerhard had completely recovered from his injury and was back training he was race fit within weeks. I was pretty jealous of his natural athleticism as I reckon if I’d had to take two years off training it would take me about two years to get race fit again. For him it just came back like he’d never been away.
Gerhard and I were both completely addicted to desert running and when the chance came to run the Trans 333 desert race in Niger I was totally into it. Gerhard wasn’t so sure about it but I told him there was no way that I was going to run across a desert in Africa on my own. After a while I persuaded him it was going to be a great project for us and he agreed that we should do the race together. It was going to be a tough one so we threw ourselves into training hard out for it.
Life was pretty quiet for me over this time. Gerhard worked really hard and he worked long hours. Life for me was like life for policemen’s wives the world over. He’d work night shifts quite often and there was always a shadow of danger over what he did for a job. I didn’t really worry about him though as Austria is a pretty safe place and we were in a more rural part of the country, so I knew he would be all right. With Gerhard working hard, my long hours at the shop, and us not training together much our lives didn’t intersect much but we had a common goal in the Niger race so we weren’t worried about the time spent apart. We were on a mission — and I love a mission in life.
One of the races we did as part of our preparation was the Isar Run, which took place in May 2006. It was a 338-kilometre race over five days along the banks of the Isar River, which runs through Austria and Germany. We ran 70 kilometres a day for five days and I made a terrible mistake on the first day that was to affect the rest of my race. It was such a dumb mistake. I tied my shoelaces too tight. I know, it sounds like such a simple thing but it made the whole race a real mission for me as I got terrible shin splints and massive swelling in my legs. To start with, I didn’t know what had caused the pain and I felt like a complete dork when I found out it was my shoelaces. After two days running, one of the old hands who was doing the race with me told me what the problem was and he told me to cut my socks. I did and it made all the difference but the damage was already done. How dumb! But it wasn’t just me — Gerhard had the same problem.
The Isar Run is another stage race so instead of racing the clock, like I did in the Desert Cup, here I was actually racing against other runners so I went as fast as I could over the stage. The faster you run in races like this, the more intensive the breakdown of the body is. I’d get up in the morning in complete agony and struggle to get out of bed. But I knew I had to go on. I never wanted to give in and I couldn’t face the thought of failing. That’s the biggest driver there is to get you out of bed and make you keep going. When I start something like this, I will finish it or die trying — that’s the attitude I always take.
On the last day of the race, I woke up and all I could think was that I had eight more hours to go. Eight more hours and I would never have to do this again. That was the only way I could make myself carry on. There were two groups — the fast and the slow — and I was in the slow group. Gerhard was in the fast group so I went and saw him off. I was completely pathetic. I was crying from the pain and I didn’t know how I was going to complete the race. It was the worst joint pain I’d ever experienced in a race. I’ve had all sorts of digestive, kidney, liver and back problems but this was nothing like any of those. The physical pain was the most intense that I’ve experienced. And all because I’d done something — that most kids learn how to do at about the age of four — wrong.
After overcoming all the mental and physical obstacles in front of me, I made it to the finish line. I hadn’t made a good time but I made it. Gerhard was already there waiting for me when I got across the line. For the first time, I wasn’t elated as I usually was after completing a run like that. I’d been in third place throughout the race but I got beaten into fourth on the last day. I was gutted. The competitive part of me was no longer happy with just finishing. I wanted to do well and I hadn’t.
After a race like that, your whole body swells up as a reaction to the extreme pressure you put it under. Gerhard and I had both ballooned up and we had to get a train back to Vienna the following day. The pair of us sat in the train with our legs up on the seats in front of us. We were in complete agony the whole way and when we arrived in Vienna, I’m not sure how, we managed to get all our gear off the train. The time that we’d been sitting down had meant that we swelled up even more and it was a real struggle to hobble back to Gerhard’s car carrying all our stuff.
When we finally got home — it was a slow drive given the physical state we were both in — I took to my bed for a couple of days and I went for three days without training. That was the longest I’d gone for years without at least doing a few k’s on the bike or having a bit of a run. It was two weeks before I could walk properly again and I realised that our dream of doing the Trans Europe Race would probably have ended in tears. If I couldn’t cope with five days of this kind of running, there’s no way I could have done 5000 kilometres.
The Isar Run would have put most people off doing another ultramarathon but Gerhard and I were due to run across Niger in a couple of months, so we just had to get on with it. I reckon it must be a bit like childbirth, you know? At the time you think, never again, then after a while you decide you want another baby. It’s like that with ultra-running. Once you recover from the shock and stress it puts on your body, you can’t wait to get out there and do another run. Besides, you always learn something from every race. With each run, you get better at what you do because you’re always learning what not to do as well as what to do. Every race I’ve run has made me feel a little bit more proud of myself, a little bit more confident and a little bit more capable of dealing with whatever the next race can throw at me.
Footwear
When you’re buying shoes for competitive running you should always go to a shoe store that has gait and foot analysis. They’ll be able to assess your running style and your feet and make sure you get the right shoes. Here are my tips for getting the best from your footwear:
If you’re doing an ultra-race always get shoes that are bigger than what you normally wear. I wear shoes that are two sizes bigger than I’d usually have. This is because my feet will swell heaps over the long period of time that I’m running. A good tip is to start with your shoes loose and then loosen them up more as time goes on.
Be really careful that your socks aren’t too tight. Normal socks will be OK at normal temperatures but as you get hotter your legs swell and the top of your socks can cut off circulation to your feet. That can cause really bad problems in your shins and knees. If you find that your socks are getting too tight, cut the sock at the front of the foot. It’ll open up and release the pressure but you’ll still have the sock around your foot.
Don’t go for a race shoe. You have to get one that’s really well cushioned. The longer you’re running the less shock absorption your muscles and tendons will have so you really need to rely on your shoes to provide as much cushioning as possible.
If possible, change your shoes if you are doing a long race. The shock absorbing capacity decreases after a while so putting on fresh shoes will lessen the shock on your body.