In most areas of life I see myself as thoughtful, forward-looking and prepared. Nothing irritates me more than being surprised by events that were foreseeable. At the same time I know that you cannot plan everything – especially not in ultrarunning. A dilemma.
When I decided to chase the Fastest Known Time (FKT) on the Berliner Höhenweg I did so with a cocky attitude. I had never seen the route and assumed the name and description pointed to well-built trails that Germans hike in five to seven days. What could possibly go wrong? The then record held by the likeable Daniel Jung – 18:30 hours for 90 km and 7,000 metres of elevation gain – looked easy to beat. Even my friend Michael Kabicher’s warning that the loop is brutally demanding did not impress me.
If you start with the wrong mindset and lack respect for the challenge, things unfold accordingly. I took a wrong turn right at the beginning in Mayrhofen. Rain turned the trails into mud. Heading towards the Schönbichlerhorn at 3,143 m I wondered whether Michael’s warning had actually been an understatement. I hallucinated, seeing a woman with her head stuck in a rock. My wife called to tell me our daughter Anna had a fever. Blocky terrain everywhere, hardly any sections where I could run. And back in Mayrhofen, at the very end, I missed the path again – why not finish the way I started?
Fake it till you make it?
It took me 17:59 hours – an FKT. As I collapsed on the steps of the Europahaus in Mayrhofen, barely able to move because my blood pressure had plummeted, I was proud of the effort and at the same time knew the time would not stand for long. With better preparation and conditions there is more to be had. Another of my principles: if you wait until everything is perfect, you rarely get started. “Fake it till you make it” is not my favourite approach, but “Try it till you make it” works for me.
Before heading home Markus Kröll – “Mr. Berliner Höhenweg” – congratulated me in person. Daniel Jung sent a message, shared his excitement and promised to go after my time soon. Moments later I learned that Peter Kienzl had just lowered my record by another nine minutes. He had no idea I was out there, and vice versa. He started two hours after me and we never crossed paths. As much as I respect his performance, I felt empty. Eighteen hours of effort, and two hours later it is already old news.
Stories like this happen all the time – not only in sports. In business I have had similar experiences: pouring energy into major bids only to lose by a handful of points because the client favoured a marginally cheaper competitor. Completing 90 percent of a project flawlessly, then stumbling on the final metres.
I have trained myself to put emotions aside after a short phase of grief and self-pity – that phase must exist! – and review the facts. After my first attempt on the Berliner Höhenweg I realised two things: I was unprepared physically and mentally. And I was too confident, even arrogant.
Mistakes happen. That is okay. But: Try it till you make it!
