Run Nicely

The knee

On the first of February my left knee gave out mid-run and I had to call home to be picked up. Even walking hurt, and three marathons were on the calendar. What followed was six weeks of the careful kind: walks to the gym, the crosstrainer, the bike, a nervous first 5K, then longer, always on the lookout for the pain to come back. It did not. By the second week of March the question was no longer whether I could run a marathon, but what kind of marathon it would be.

Amstelveen, 15 March

The Lentemarathon: a beautiful run with a challenging course, and the distance to Uithoorn noticeably longer than I remembered. The knee stayed whole. 42.52 kilometers in 4:08:22, an average of 163 beats per minute, a steady 5:50 per kilometer. Every 42K is special, I wrote the next morning, and this one was special for a reason I had not had before: it was proof that the body had healed. The Watch worked excellently that day: no upper hand, no obsession, but useful for heart rate and pace calibration, especially at the start, when the crowd pulls you faster than you should go. It was the balance I had been looking for since Data versus Feeling.

The day after, I felt a bit loose from reality. I am here, but I am not. That is what a marathon does to you. Two days after, a soaked feeling of listlessness despite good sleep and decent food, undoubtedly the body using its energy to recover. A gentle ride as active recovery, and Venloop two weeks out. I wanted to show up there with more strength and verve.

Venloop, 29 March

On the morning of the Venloop I wrote: I have slept well, I have taken the Watch off, and I notice that makes a difference. The desire is back, different from before. I am not here for PRs or perfect control, but to run nicely, in nice weather and probably with a lot of cheerful people. A different approach, a different feeling. Nicer. Venlo delivered exactly that: blue skies, a town lined with people, and a course I could run on feel. 1:52:34 on the medal, and I did not look at a single split on the way.

Rotterdam, 12 April

Two weeks later the knee was not okay again. On the Thursday before Rotterdam I wrote: a few days before Rotterdam. Knee is not okay. Have considered not starting. Going anyway, but letting go of any form of time goal in advance. Just like Venloop the goal is: run nicely, enjoy.

The day before, the city was already dressed for it. Every participant's name was printed on a wall, mine somewhere in the middle, and a supermarket had a note on the fridge saying the city had asked them not to sell chilled beer because of the marathon. Rotterdam takes its marathon seriously. On Sunday morning I took the early train, bib 19522 on the blue shirt, wave 2, ten past ten. The Watch stayed at home. The band on the arm and the phone in the pocket kept the numbers, in the background, the way I like it.

My own words that afternoon: the most beautiful. Some fade after 30K, but that is no surprise given the limited long-run preparation because of the knee. What a crowd, goosebump moments when you run up the Erasmus bridge. 3:57:40 on the official result, every five kilometers between 5:26 and 5:38, the first half in 1:55:04. For a race without any time goal, on feel, that is a remarkably flat line. Natural pacing instead of interval steering, I noted a few days later, that is what we did at Venloop and Rotterdam, with great consistency.

Two days later, on paper: a few days on, ten years of life experience richer. The marathon in Rotterdam was the most beautiful. The people, the route, the city. But also going deep, without smartwatch, on feel. Wow. Right up there with my first in Amsterdam, which was almost spiritual. This one too.

Three reasons

In Amstelveen I ran to know. Would the knee hold, could I still do this, what was the honest number after six weeks of rebuilding. The data helped and I was grateful for it. In Venlo I ran because it was Sunday, the sun was out and thousands of people had the same idea. The data would have added nothing. In Rotterdam I ran with a knee I did not trust and no number to chase, and it became the most beautiful of the three. Four weeks, the same legs, and the difference was entirely in the head. I had learned that the hard way a year earlier, in the heat of Leiden, and here it was again, in a much kinder form.

Three days after Rotterdam I wrote: I feel good, despite not having a hundred percent recovery. The body is strong. I want to push on and go for a PB in Cologne, see whether sub 3:30 is possible. Still doubting whether to bring the Watch. We have quite some experience with and without. I do not think you need it, unless you want to practise on zones, for instance. By the afternoon the doubt was gone: we are going all in.

A week later the other half of the answer arrived, in the notebook. All the rest, weight, muscles, fast times, distances, does not really interest me at all. Both Rotterdam and Amsterdam had that spiritual quality, which sits so close to my real reason for sport: who am I and what can I do? That is more beautiful than the PB moments of Valencia, Amstelveen 2025 and Eindhoven added together. Seriously!

Conclusion

A marathon after an injury is relief with a medal attached. A half marathon two weeks later, without a screen, is joy with one. A marathon on a knee you do not trust, run purely on feel, turns out to be the most beautiful of all. All three count, and the last two are the reason I keep signing up. Know why you are running before the gun goes, and the pace takes care of itself.

Cologne is next, and this time there is a number on the table. The number is the plan, it is not the reason, ha!

Update: how the idea of running without a screen developed further, see No Smartwatch.