Last August, we wrote that Daniel Milewicz, a resident of Bolesławiec and an active ultramarathon runner (he runs distances longer than the marathon distance of 42 km 195 m), ran to Świnoujście (444 km). The run was a charity event aimed at raising money to purchase rehabilitation equipment for Municipal Public Kindergarten No. 7 with integration classes in Bolesławiec.
This year, the Bolesławiec ultramarathon runner took part in the Sudetic Hundred. He shared his impressions with readers of the Istotne.pl website:
My wife and daughter see me off at the start [...]. Finally, the countdown: 10, 9, 8... a shot, and Europe’s song “The Final Countdown” comes through the speakers, along with fireworks whose bang sends shivers down your spine. One small lap around the market square, saying goodbye to my loved ones, and into the mountains. Well, it had begun. I latched onto a guy who had been completing this type of race for several years, so relying on his experience, I preferred to stay with him. In a race like this, the kilometres pass much more slowly. On flat ground, 10 km takes 37–39 minutes, while here it takes 1.5 hours to cover barely 9 km. [...]
I reached 42 km after approximately 5.5 hours. I felt quite good, but I knew that in a race like this, the competition only really begins at around 70 km. After leaving the stadium following the marathon distance, Tomek joined us—a young, 25-year-old man with whom we stayed together until the end of the race. Something started not to add up time-wise. I began thinking that if I sped up, I would spend less time on my feet—maybe instead of 16–17 hours on my feet, I would spend 14–15, which is a lot, especially in terrain like this. I decided it was worth breaking away from Ziemowit (the guy I had run with from the beginning) and starting to speed up.
After 55 km, at the aid station, where it was already raining heavily, we began pulling away from him. As young runners—taking on this distance for the first time—we were left to rely only on ourselves. Tomek does run mountain races, but only up to 42 km; after my run by the sea, I had experience with the distance, but not in the mountains. Aid station at 65 km, then 72 (some people were already finishing the race at that kilometre, because there were runners doing 42 km, 72 km and 100 km). After 70 km, every step and every touch of the foot to the ground caused severe pain. The steep climbs and descents tore at my thigh muscles and caused a burning sensation, as if someone were irritating my skin with fire. In addition, after 20 km I strained the joint capsule in my ankle, so burning and stabbing pain accompanied me until the end of the race [...].
After the climbs came the descents, where we had to make up time and get moving. My body refused to move, but my mind would not allow it, so every attempt to break into a run from a walk was quite an achievement. Finally, 86 km: the last aid station and checkpoint, with only 14 km left to the finish, but in the mountains that can sometimes mean 2.5–3 hours. At 90 km, the watch showed 88 km—who was right? Of course, I trusted the organisers :)
So we continued: walking and running, walking and running. We had already been running for a good 1 hour 50 minutes, thinking these were the final metres. We asked locals how far it was to the stadium, and a guy said 400 m. Three hundred metres of the final climb. Great, Tomek, let’s speed up. But somehow the stadium was neither visible nor audible.
We asked again how far it was to the stadium—3.5 km [...]. A blow, as if someone had kicked me; my head dropped. But we saw firefighters keeping order: “How far to the stadium, gentlemen?”—“5 km.” [...] They must be kidding. Indeed, after 5 km came the final 300-metre climb, with my nose almost touching the roots because of the slope, but there was the gate and the stadium, and tears, and pain, and humility, and shivers, and I don’t know what else.
My daughter hung the medal around my neck. I achieved something that is total abstraction for some people. You know what—we can do anything; we are the masters of our minds and thoughts. Today I can walk and function normally. And I know that my training was exactly the right choice. And that makes me happy...
(information: DM/ii)