Berlin Marathon (#2/Marathon #106)

This was my second time running the Berlin Marathon—I previously ran it in 2022 and had a fantastic experience. Naturally, I was excited to return.

Getting to Berlin:

Traveling to Berlin this time was a bit of a nightmare. I woke up to an email saying our flight had been canceled and rebooked—now departing at 1:15 a.m. With quite a bit of unexpected time to kill, we decided to kick things off with dinner at our favorite post-21-miler spot: TJ’s Restaurant. It’s right around mile 2 of the Boston Marathon course and is famous (to us, anyway) for serving the best cheeseburgers. It’s been our tradition to eat there after our final long training run.

After dinner, we headed to the Framingham/Logan Express lot to park and take the shuttle to the airport. But of course, it wasn’t that simple. We ended up circling the Natick Mall, calling for help, and eventually locating the mysterious “overflow” lot. It took longer to park than it did to drive there!

Once we finally made it to the airport, everything settled down. The flights were smooth, and I actually managed to sleep on the plane—rare for me.

When we arrived in Berlin, we decided to take the train to our hotel, which turned out to be surprisingly confusing. I asked a police officer for directions, and he snapped, “NO. No information for you.” (Welcome to Germany?) Thankfully, the train conductors were much friendlier and happily helped us figure things out. Eventually, we made it to our hotel and checked in—exhausted, but officially in Berlin.

Berlin Weather

As race day approached, I was obsessively checking the 10-day weather forecast. Initially, it looked like rain, but as the day drew nearer, the forecast shifted to a high of 80°F. My heart sank. I’ve never been strong in the heat, and the older I get, the more it affects me. I was hoping for the best, but extremely nervous.

Pre-Race Day

The night before the race, we had dinner at a lovely Italian restaurant called Ristorante A Mano. The food came out quickly and was delicious, but it took forever to get the check. When we finally flagged down our waiter, he enthusiastically offered us limoncello. We all shouted, “No! We’re running a marathon tomorrow!” After a good laugh, we made our way back to the hotel to prep for race day.

I had packed for all conditions—heat shields, gloves, a hat, a throwaway shirt—none of which I ended up needing. Not a great sign when you’re already sweating at the start line.

Race Morning

I met up with Jaime in the athlete’s village; we were in the same corral. We chatted about our goal times but agreed that with the heat, this might not be the day for big goals.

We started off feeling strong, but by mile 6 or 7, I told Jaime to go ahead—I needed to drop back. By mile 10, I switched to a walk/run strategy. When my heart rate spiked, I walked. At every water stop, I refilled my bottle and dumped water over my head. Interestingly, they offered hot tea alongside the water—not sure what the benefit was, but I gave it a try.

On the Course

The crowd support was there but quieter than I remembered. However, the music along the course was fantastic—everything from rock bands and classical quartets to street performers and DJs. Some of the spectator signs cracked me up. A few favorites:

• “You paid 200 euros for this”

• “Smile if you peed a little”

At one point, I passed a guy dressed as a police officer holding a fake traffic light. I was walking when I saw him, and he called out, “We give tickets for walking!” I pointed, laughed, and kept moving.

While Berlin is known for being flat, a few bridges added some sneaky hills. On top of that, people were constantly crossing the course in front of us—not ideal.

The Final Stretch

The last six miles were brutal, but oddly, I started feeling a bit better. My toes were killing me—this was my first marathon in carbon-plated Nike shoes, and I have a feeling it might also be the last. Still, I found a bit of rhythm again. I didn’t walk through the water stations anymore, just shuffled.

By then, I was completely drenched and didn’t even notice my bib had torn almost completely off—just flapping in the wind. Probably won’t have many race photos, but honestly, that might be a blessing.

As I got within two miles of the finish, I was smiling. I’ve never been so happy to see the end of a race. The scene at the finish line was intense—runners walking, ambulances parked along the course, people being treated, some even vomiting or collapsed on the ground. It looked like a war zone.

Post-Race Chaos

I walked over to pick up my gear check bag and grabbed my phone—only to realize there was no cell service in the Athlete’s Village. After some wandering, I finally found someone who spoke English. They said, “Our tour guide told us to go back to the drop-off area if we needed service.” So, I began a slow, painful shuffle in that direction.

My left toe was throbbing. I couldn’t wait to get my sneakers off and slide into my sandals.

As I walked, the rain started to fall and the wind picked up. I saw a bunch of runners wrapped in heat shields and asked a volunteer where to get one. She pointed me toward another area. I waited in line with other runners, only to be told when I reached the front, “No poncho for you—you have gear check.” Seriously?

So, I headed toward the meeting area and called Kim. He was already on his way. I found a place to sit down, finally pulled off my sneakers, and took a look at my foot. Sure enough—my big toe had a huge blood blister. No wonder I was in so much pain!

Post Race Celebration

We finally made it back to the hotel and took what might have been the best shower of my life. I was starving and beyond grateful that I’d saved my pre-race meal leftovers. Even cold, those gnocchi were absolutely amazing—easily the best gnocchi I’ve ever had.

Not long after, we got a call to meet up with Fernanda and Dave at their hotel. We headed over, grabbed cheeseburgers, and celebrated the best way we could—tired, sore, but proud. We shared stories, swapped updates from friends' Facebook posts, and laughed through the pain. Everyone had a tough race, and Henryk probably summed it up best:

“It was a shit sandwich we all took a bite of.”

That pretty much nailed it.

Strangely enough, I found some comfort in knowing I wasn’t alone in the struggle. Misery really does love company—especially when it’s followed by burgers and good friends.

You can have a great training cycle and do everything right, but sometimes the weather just doesn’t cooperate. You never really know what race day will bring.

I was pretty disappointed—not because I didn’t try, but because I trained so hard for 16 weeks and didn’t have the race I had hoped for. Still, not every race goes according to plan.

Hopefully, Kim and I can bounce back and qualify for Boston at one of our upcoming fall marathons.

Would I Run Berlin Again?

After I crossed the finish and got my medal, I looked around and took it all in. What a day.

Would I run this race again? Honestly, I think this might be my last time.

Berlin Marathon - Athletes Village

Post Marathon