My (Side) Trip to Run in the North Brabant Marathon

by

Mark Looi

October 31, 2005

My plans to enter the Tri-Cities Marathon on October 30^th and struggle through the wind, as in 2004, were sidelined because of a trip to Europe for work. Instead, I decided to enter the North Brabant Marathon, in Etten-Leur, The Netherlands. My first challenge was to find out how to enter it, since the only information on the marathon’s website was all in Dutch. By cutting & pasting text from the website into Microsoft Word, then using the translation feature, I was able to find out that I could register the day before or even the day of the event and that it would only cost €15!

I left one week in advance on a whirlwind trip that would take me to London, Paris, Munich, Madrid, and finally Amsterdam. So, in the days before the event, I ran through London along the Thames Foot Path, along the Victoria, Albert and Chelsea embankments and past Parliament, St James Park, Hyde Park, Piccadilly, Leicester Square, the London Eye, Green Park, Battersea Park, and many famous monuments, museums, and sites. In Paris, I did the same, covering Montparnasse, Jardin de Luxembourg, Ilê Ste. Louis, Notre Dame, the Louvre, Jardin de Tuileries, Place de la Concorde, Les Invalides, and so forth. It was a great way to sightsee, though doing this while it was dark at 7 am did limit the vistas at times.

During this trip, the team I was traveling with had to endure many privations, including sitting in meetings for 9 hours a day and then staying up late. One day, we arrived at 9 pm in Munich from Paris, but still managed to get to the famous Hofbrauhaus for dinner around 11 pm. In Madrid, noted for its late dining, we did not finish eating until 1:45 am; diners were still working on their meals when we left! Of course, we had to be up for meetings the next day at 8 am! And, the Madrilenõs aren’t used to eating lunch before 2 pm, making for long hours without food. So, for several days leading up to the marathon, I did not get much sleep—just a few hours per day—and did not really eat very regularly either.

Finally, I made it to the Netherlands and took the train from Schipol Airport to Etten-Leur, in North Brabant. North Brabant is very near the Belgian border and is actually closer to Brussels than Amsterdam. Etten-Leur is a small town in the typical Dutch style—with incredibly charming row houses, immaculate streets, large common areas, ancient buildings seamlessly integrated with new ones, and small shops. And, of course, lots of bike paths! Every road has an adjacent bike path, if not two (one in each direction), since virtually everyone gets around by bicycle. As one taxi driver in Amsterdam later told me, it’s the no-tax form of transportation!

Once in Etten-Leur, I consulted a map near the train station to see how to get to my hotel and immediately encountered how helpful the Dutch are, when a woman asked me if I needed help and offered to drive me to the hotel. Since it was less than 600 meters away, I told her I’d walk there. I don’t think there are many women in the US who would give a complete stranger a ride. On my way I discovered that the registration for the marathon was right around the corner from the hotel, about 100 meters away from the hotel! Later, I was to learn that the start line was immediately in front of the hotel, Het Witte Paard (The White Horse). This hotel by the way is built around an inn or roadhouse that was first erected in 1828, with the old parts faithfully restored and quite well integrated into the new construction, where all the rooms are. Registration was quite straightforward and came to a total of €18, including the timing chip rental. This is by far the cheapest marathon I have entered (other than the free Green River Marathon, famously directed by Steve Barrick). As I was to discover it is also incredibly well-run and well-sponsored for such a small event.

The day of the race, there was plenty of time to get ready, since it didn’t start until 11:30 am; unlike the ones we are used to in North America most European marathons seem to start much later and are all-day affairs. Before the gun went off, I was able to relax in the hotel itself since it was literally 25 meters away from the start line! In addition, the very accommodating hotel manager extended my checkout time to 5 pm, since “…its better to be safe.”

Although the North Brabant Marathon is a small event with only about 300 marathon entrants (though with more half marathoners & 10K runners), there were elaborate “big-marathon” preparations. For instance, there were inflated arches bearing sponsor names, like ING, the Dutch bank, and heavy steel barricades (like you see lining the Tour de France) for many, many kilometers along the route. I was also surprised by the number of spectators. Certainly there were many friends & family of the participants, but it seemed the whole town was own to see and cheer on this comparative handful of athletes.

It was an unseasonably warm day when the gun went off and we made our way along the brick-paved roads through the town. Amazingly, these brick roads went on for kilometers & kilometers, into the countryside. The course took a picturesque path through the town, some of whose buildings were hundreds of years old, past tidy brick houses, and into the countryside and surrounding woods. A Dutch friend once told me that land is very hard to get in Holland—and the relative grandeur and affluence of farmers’ homes seems to support the notion that owning land even in present-day Holland makes one wealthy. Traffic was very effectively controlled, with the aforementioned steel barricades, police and volunteers. Spectators and fans lined the route in numerous places—other than big marathons, I have never seen so many spectators enthusiastically cheering on the runners. There were even bands along the way. Of course it helped that it was a double-loop course and there were several running events.

Support along the course was good, with hundreds of eager volunteers passing out bananas, sport drink, water, orange slices, sponges, etc. But, there were probably not enough water stops—only 8—for such a warm day. The local temperature near the finish read 24°C (about 75°F); there was also a steady wind from the southwest.

My race started slowly, as a lot of people seemed to be going at a steady pace and it took until the 3 or 4 km point to spread out. I tried to maintain about a 7:35 per mile pace (or about 4:45 per km), but didn’t really keep it up for long. By about 10K, I was beginning to see signs of trouble. I was getting dehydrated. I felt thirsty, which is a very bad sign. The wind and sun were definitely making for much drier conditions than I expected and I hadn’t consumed enough water earlier on. So, before the half way point, I was slowing miserably. I was running about 5:25 per km (around 8:30 per mile) around the midpoint. I settled in to enjoy the sights along the way and not worry too much about the pace. And there were beautiful pine forests with well-maintained paths, as well as canals, dikes, fields, and homes to distract me.

People that I’d passed earlier were coming by pretty strongly and it seemed I’d gone out way too fast. I thought that maybe I wouldn’t be able to finish. But I wasn’t alone. Because this was a double loop, several runners who seemed strong chose to drop out shortly after the half, citing the hot conditions. It really wasn’t that hot, but lack of preparation and fewer water stops than ideal could definitely discourage a person. The handy double-loop format also makes it easy to bail out part way. I told myself that I didn’t come all this way to drop out and that I’d struggled through worse before. Unfortunately, this claim is all too true.

Anyway, at the water stop near the 25 km point, I decided to really hydrate and consumed 6 cups of fluids. Within a few kilometers, I started to feel better. I ran with a couple of people who came along from behind. Staying with them motivated me and gradually, I felt the ill effects of the dehydration pass. After the 33 km point, I pick up the pace and left my running partners behind. Although I probably was only running about a 5 minutes per km pace (around 8 minutes per mile), I was gradually catching up to dozens of people, many of whom had passed me during my time of self-doubt in the wilderness, when I had slowed dramatically.

I kept increasing my pace and reeling people in and the kilometer marks slipped by: first 35 and before long, 40! All along the route, the crowd had thickened. They were cheering & clapping, though in a reserved, proper Dutch way. As I made it past an historic windmill signaling entry to town, I picked up my pace further and caught the what seemed like the last group of people who’d passed me earlier. I kept going, finished strongly, and caught still more in the last few meters before the finish line. It was quite a good comeback from near ruin. My time though reflected my troubles: 3:34. Of course, my preparation was less than ideal, so I can’t complain too much.

After the finish I chatted with a couple of other runners, though there was a bit of a language barrier. The town was teeming with people by now and there was an air of excitement—amazing for such a modest event. I walked back to my hotel and all the outdoor cafes and restaurants were filled with people, enjoying a beer or coffee. Later I made my way to the recovery area and found many people sitting around and relaxing. One thing that surprised even me was the lack of self-consciousness of the Dutch. They were quite nonchalant about sitting in a room of a couple hundred people, taking all their wet clothes off, cleaning up and putting on their fresh clothing in the full view of others—both men and women!

I talked to a few more people about the event and we did all the usual things to congratulate each other as runners all over the world always do. Then, as the sun began to dip, I made my way to the train station for Amsterdam. Entering this Brabant Marathon was more of an enlightening and enjoyable experience than I ever thought possible.