The Schwanberglauf is an iconic 10.4km hill race,
which starts in the idyllic Franconian village of Iphofen and finishes in the
castle park of the village of Castell. In between lies the sublime Schwanberg
hill, an elevation of 474m above sea level, which is to be
crossed.
 
This was the second time that I was running this
race. As many of you know, the hill is my preferred place to run and hike, so
this race is something special for me – sharing the paths of “my” beloved hill
with more than a thousand other runners for one evening of the
year.
 
In the days leading up to the race, I wasn’t 100%
sure whether or not I should participate. I felt a bit fatigued, my breathing
was causing me problems and the weather forecast didn’t look too rosy from a
runner’s perspective - +30°C and sunshine. Secretly though, I knew that I would
participate.

 
I had a nice leg massage the evening before the
race and felt quite fresh and rested on Friday afternoon. Since it was the
second week of my ultramarathon training plan, I decided to run without watch,
without any pressure regarding the finishing time and to just consider it a
training run. I was struggling a bit to get the weekly kilometres in so I packed
my hydration vest with water, a gel and my new Hoka One One babies and had it
transferred to the finish line in Castell with the plan to run the route back to
Iphofen after the race.

 
I met with the rest of the gang from the running
club before the start and everyone was a bit nervous about the upcoming climb. I
also met my younger brother who was running his first race there. He was
participating for his girlfriend’s employer and was therefore wearing her
running shirt, which looked a bit hilarious
;)

 
We lined up at the start line, somewhere in the
middle of the big group of runners. The sun was burning down mercilessly (+33°C)
and the minutes until the start seemed to last forever. Being surrounded by tall
sweaty men didn’t help much…

 
Then the race started. The first kilometre was
all about finding a way through the masses of runners heading up the hill. I saw
one guy stumble and fall in the crowd but luckily he got up again. We ran out of
the village and into the vineyards on the foot of the mountain. I was wearing my
New Balance Minimus and they felt great, incredibly light, on these first
meters. The worst part was right ahead of us though: The “Höttehött”, a steep
and narrow trail leading through the woods up to the top of the mountain. Super
runners like Kilian Jornet would probably hardly notice any elevation there but
for the average hobby runner like me, on a hot day like this, amidst a thousand
other sweating bodies, it felt like
Armageddon.


 I was breathing heavily after a couple of meters already and one runner after
another passed me. It was a disgrace. The approx. 1km long trail seemed to last
forever. I felt that I was much slower than the year before, but when we finally
reached the top, unlike last year, my legs weren’t shaky and I managed to speed
up almost immediately. Looks like a the squats and hill runs are finally paying
off leg-wise 
 
From that point onwards, the race went very well.
I didn’t know how fast or slow I was going but managed to pass one runner after
another. It felt good! Knowing the course definitely helped here – the surface
of the forest ways was familiar to me and I knew where it was possible to speed
up. True, I was taking a little risk running downhill at full speed on a rocky
surface in my minimalist shoes but it was fun!


 We ran through the forest and down on the
backside of the hill, where the path lead us into the vineyards of Castell.
Running on the flat again after kilometres of storming downhill felt like my
body had pulled a brake but the finish line wasn’t far. At this point, I had no
idea about how long it had taken me to complete the course. It could have been
58 minutes but it could also have been 1 hour and 10 minutes. In the end, I
crossed the finish line after 1 hour and 36 seconds. Once again, I failed to
make it under 1 hour, the secret threshold of this race that separates the
“real” runners from the rest of the field but I was still quite satisfied with
the result – only 30 seconds slower than the year before and I wasn’t absolutely
beaten.

 
In the finishing area, I met a few people from
the running club again and my brother, who smashed the race in 56 minutes. As
more runners came in, I quickly downed a bottle of water and a gel, before
changing into my Hokas, putting on my hydration vest and heading back. There
were still a few runners coming down the hill when I climbed it again, which was
a nice distraction. Almost all of them smiled and we exchanged a few words of
encouragement.



The way back wasn’t as bad as anticipated. I was
moving slowly but managed to jog most of the uphill sections. Once I had passed
the last race marshals dismounting the water stations, everything was quiet and
peaceful again. I had “my hill” back to myself and thoroughly enjoyed it (if
only it hadn’t been for the midgets…)

 
I saw a deer grazing on a meadow near the castle and it watched me, too, but then
decided that it was safe to continue grazing. I probably looked too beaten to
pose any risk 
 
When I reached the front side of the hill again,
the sun was setting and everything was put into a wonderful orange light. It was
one of these special moments when you suddenly know what you are running for and
that you are meant to be out there in this very moment. I was high on endorphins
when I ran down the Höttehött trail again, happy to be doing what I love and
enjoying a beautiful ending to an exciting running
day.

Sweat, sweat, sweat...


On Saturday
night, I had a decision to make - watch the Dutch team play against Costa
Rica in the world cup quarter finals or go to bed early to get enough sleep.
When my alarm clock rang at 4.15 the next morning, I was happy to have chosen
the latter option.



I had to get up early because I had registered
for the “Altmühltrail”, a 22k trail race (400m elevation gain) through the
idyllic Altmühl valley in Franconia. After a quick breakfast and some
last-minute packing, I set off.



Luckily, the streets were empty on this pretty
Sunday morning, and after 1 hour and 45 minutes I arrived in Treuchtlingen, the
place of the finish, where the BIBs were issued. I found a parking spot approx..
500m away from the finish line, and quickly collected my participant’s package.
I had a train to catch to the starting point in Weißenburg 20 minutes later, so
I pinned the BIB to my shirt, packed everything else away, grabbed my water and
  walked over to the train station. I didn’t realize that I had forgotten
  something essential…



The
starting area was still quite empty when I arrived so I wandered around a bit
and then found a nice shadowy bench to rest until 9 o’ clock, watching the other
runners arrive one after another. 15 minutes before the race was about to start,
I walked over to the start line, watching the other runners. They all looked
happy and excited… My eyes wandered down to their shoes – trail shoes or
“normal” running shoes? HOKA’s anyone? J




Suddenly, I realized my mistake. I had forgotten
the time-recording transponder, which had to be fixed to the shoe laces, in my
car in Treuchtlingen! With 5 minutes to go! I panicked and ran over to the
luggage collection point. The man there was not amused when he heard my story
but had a spare BIB and transponder for me. He made me write down my name and
data and promised that he would take care of everything. Thank God!




Then the next problem – I could not fix the
  transponder to my shoe laces since my Salomon Speedcross have a “quick-lace
  system”, which did not match the two holes in the transponder. I had no idea
  how to fix the thing. Until the friendly man gave me a cable tie.
Phew…



Then, finally, the start. The first 1.5km were on
flat asphalt, before we entered the cool, shadowy forest, where the first steep
  climb awaited us already. Due to an infection and having to take antibiotics in
  the days before the race, I didn’t feel 100% and was quickly out of breath – a
sudden reminder of my DNF in April. I slowed down, determined not to give up
this time. Luckily, the hills weren’t as brutal as last time and we soon reached
the top, where the first aid station with water, juice and fruit was located.




The next section was the most beautiful part of
the race – a lovely single trail through the woods, a downhill section on a
broader forest way and then a pretty path through pretty meadows. I managed to
pass a couple of runners on the downhill section. One of them started to talk to
me (we had briefly met before the race). He introduced himself as Bernhard, from
  Eisenach, a 60ish, white-haired runner with a friendly smile. We chatted about
  our previous trail running experience, and the metres and kilometres flew by,
  until he told me to keep going as he had to slow down a bit (in the end, he
  finished a couple of minutes behind
me).



The grassy path we were running on at this point
was quite tough on the legs and the sun was burning down mercilessly but I still
  managed to keep up a reasonable pace, which surprised me (of course, I had to
  pay for it later, again).



We
passed a pretty chapel and a few idyllic, remote farms, before the next hill
appeared in front of us at km 10. It got hotter and hotter and I was sweating
heavily while slowly crawling up the hill. One runner after another passed me
but all had a friendly word and a smile for me and cheered them on in return.
True trail runner spirit J



I started to talk to another runner here and we
kept each other going. From this point onwards, we had a little “battle” going
on – he passed me on the uphill sections and I passed him again on the next
downhill stretch. He was always joking, clearly having fun and enjoying this
race. Later, when he finished a couple of metres in front of me, I heard the
speaker tell the audience that, half a year ago, this runner had been lying in a
hospital bed after a surgery due to cancer… What an amazing runner! It is always
a deeply touching and humbling experience to share a small part of the journey
with such an inspiring person.



We were a group of approx. 10 runners moving forwards at the same pace at this
point. The last climb awaited us at km 17, followed by a steep but fun downhill
section. The last kilometres were brutal, following a flat bike path in the
burning sun. I noticed that my Salomon trail shoes are excellent for “real”
trails and forest ways but absolutely inadequate on asphalt (can’t wait to try
out my new HOKA’s! J)




The finish line was located in the town centre,
in front of a small castle. I managed to speed up a bit on the last couple of
  metres and pass another runner shortly before the finish line. No matter how
  exciting and pretty a race is, it is always a relief to finish! Instead of a
  medal, we got a piece of wood with the name of the race and the year engraved.



I grabbed some water and walked over to the
  information point to ask them if they had registered my new BIB and was
  relieved to learn that it was already in the system.
Phew!



The finishing area was very well organised, too.
I picked up my bag and walked over the showers, chatting with a woman who told
me that she had never ran further than 15km before but finished this one – with
a very respectable result! Amazing!



I had the feeling that there were not many runners behind me when I
crossed the line after 2 hours and 25 minutes – later, I found out that I ended
up as 25th out of 59
women and 131 out of 195 finishers in total. Not my best result but still better
than expected J



When I drove home, I was exhausted but happy;
once again, I had immersed into this special atmosphere of trail races – a bit
wild, a bit adventurous and a bit masochistic, dominated by the notion that it
is not only about finishing times and ranks. It is about spending some quality
time in the nature, sharing the good and the ugly with like-minded
folks.

Cassandra photographed by me / Me photographed by Cassandra