“Don’t look at the clock, don’t look at the clock. We have it in a little, we have it in a little.” When they tell you in a marathon not to look at the clock, you are already passing Cain’s time. Miriam López, my training partner, tells me this, a better athlete than me and that for the second year in a row she is going to help me try to achieve my goal. Sure enough, she was bordering on sports drama.
I have tried almost everything to avoid cramps in my left calf, my real weak point in the five marathons that I have completed this Sunday since my mentor Joan Ramon Pujol Argelich instilled this fever in me. “Eat bananas”. Like a monkey. “Take gels.” Like a robot. “Eat pasta and pizza.” To put on your boots. But cramp is my faithful travel companion. In 2023 I had to stop on the coast, at km 39. This time the calf rush came earlier, at km 32, going down Diagonal. 10 kilometers in a marathon are longer than today’s soccer games. Especially if you can’t squeeze. Especially if you have to slow down. But the number 8,800 does not give up. That never. In the band he hears the screams of Albert Civera.
“JB, JB, JB,” he chants. JB is my stage name for athletics. Those who know me from before my blessed hobby call me Juan. Like Cecilio Angulo, who cheers me on in different parts of the route. But the encouragement I receive the most is from “JB”. It’s like a mantra. Meanwhile, my partner is singing the rhythms to me, she is bringing me the water or the gel and she is recording videos because, of course, she is more than enough. She accompanied us until the 3rd and then from the 23rd.
When the problems grow, my coach at Fondiesteam, Adolf Dieste, and another illustrious veteran like Ricard Sastre appear on the road. “Bracea, bracea,” they advise me. My friends overtake me. First Alfred Foglietti. After Francesc Torner. Later Marisol Ávalo and Àngel Lizaur. At shorter distances I beat them. But a marathon is another world.
It is the worst distance for my personality. It requires patience, calm and dosage. I am restless, moved and fast. I start running as I write. At full speed. But few beat me being stubborn.
20 kilometers before having to stop I enjoy Paseo de Gràcia, the Sagrada Família and Eixample in general. The day is beautiful and the city looks beautiful. The public crowds in the ditches. The more participants, the more followers, and with the new route, more concentrated, it is easier to follow your acquaintances.
For the runners, on the other hand, the debut route, at least in the case of number 8,800, becomes heavier, like in a cage on which you are spinning. You already think about that on the seafront, when the cramps threaten again and when you no longer know if you will make a personal record. Of course, the ambitious challenge of doing 3h20m has already eluded you (you missed it when you stopped) but you still have time to improve, not even a little bit.
When you can see the Arc del Triomf, the finish line, you cross km 42. There are 195 meters left. Running all morning and you have to play it in a flash. In pain but you give the last thing you have left and when you stop the clock you shout “let’s go”. 3h27m15s, 19 seconds better than in 2023. So little time and at the same time so much. A year older and hair faster. Go for 2025.
