Half Marathon in Hannover, Germany

I ran a half marathon yesterday! Two pieces of it were interesting to me: 1) the training and physical experience and 2) going to Germany for the race.

1) The training and physical experience

I arrived in London in August, 2022 with a healing torn calf. I could jog a small bit and jump in November or December that first year. I had gained weight from my injury, and I was not feeling sprightly. I also felt super alone, down, cold and all of the other things I may have hinted at in my blog, but overall it was a hard year. I didn't do much physical. I found tennis in the spring, when I was cleared to move side to side, and that helped.

Our first weekend here I learned about WRW (Women Running the World), and I signed up for the emails, hopeful that one day I would join them on their runs. That first year it didn't happen. I saw them all on their runs, and they looked so damn happy. And I was so alone. But I couldn't run.

The next year I was in such a lonely and poopy state that I couldn't get myself to join the group. I couldn't show up for something and feel bad or left out again. I wasn't sure I could do the running, and I didn't want to fail at something. I was not in a good place. I made a commitment to myself to try it in the winter that second year, but then I realized they were all training for a half marathon in the spring, and the runs were getting longer and longer, and that wasn't the time to join, as a newbie who has never REALLY run before (never more than a half hour). Wah wah poor me, but yet another year I watched these damn happy women run through my neighborhood, waving with a smile. But I couldn't join them.

Of this little group of friends that I got closer with last year, four of the seven had run and done the half marathon last year. They LOVED it and encouraged the rest of us to do it. I was holding out as a "this is not for me," since I wasn't truly not confident I could do it physically or socially. But the other two were convinced to try, and I wasn't going to be the ONLY one who didn't try, so I quickly made a decision and said out loud that I would try too. 

The group meets Monday, Wednesday and Friday a few minutes from the school, right after drop-off. (Many of the women are ASL moms, but not all). Mondays are exploring runs. Wednesdays are usually a bit shorter (and later in the year used for speed training), Fridays are hills, other than one Friday a month to Borough Market. I showed up with the other two newbies from our little group the second or third week of school. We cautiously joined the slowest group (12 minute miles). They were SO WELCOMING and wonderful. I think we ran 3 miles, maybe 4, and it was great! And I could totally do it. I loved all the chatting. I loved running to Big Ben and seeing London aboveground. After two runs with the 12s I was tripping over my feet, so we tried a new pace group, and on a hill run, and we found the 10 minute milers at the top, and they were so nice and adopted all three of us. 

Slowly, slowly, the distances increased. I kept active with tennis and pickleball and of course all of the walking and also some core exercises. My knees hurt a bit. My calf twinged here and there. My ankles are sore sometimes, but genuinely, I have been fine. I LOVE the running. And I love the community. I can't wait for the next step, the next run, the next distance. I was never quite sure what my body could do. Each time I ran the longest distance I had ever run I was so proud of myself and truly couldn't believe it! My friend, Lauren, who started with me would say, "Look at us! We're running!" And we were!

I also loved the people. They were such kind and accepting people. I loved hearing their stories and hearing about their children and their careers. Everyone has an amazing story. I felt like I had a place. I had somewhere to go. People to be with. And it felt really good.

Back from winter break, our distances increased. 7 miles up through Hampstead to Highgate and back. 8 miles to Battersea and back around. 9 miles to Canary Wharf. 10 miles to Canada Water. 11 miles to Kew Gardens. And each time, I could fucking run! We have three running coaches in our group (they coach beginners each year, but the three of us didn't qualify, because we had run a little before), and I would pick their brains nonstop. Do I really need to eat on a run? How much water? What do I wear if it's 48 degrees? How often do I change my shoes? What if I miss a run? What should I eat before the run? What stretches are most important afterwards? I asked every question, and they were the most patient, answering everything and telling their own stories. We ran and ran, and overall, our pace on my watch (which I don't stop when we stop at lights, etc.) was about 10:30-10:50 per mile. It was not hard for me. My leg muscles got tired, but I was rarely out of breath (only on a big hill), and I felt great. I felt like I wanted to go faster, but the coaches were consistent suggesting that I stay slow for training so I don't injure myself. I'm a wee bit competitive, but I listened to them and resisted (also I love our group so much, though I'm sure they're all great). When I ran alone I ran about 9:30/9:45 miles, but never for more than about 5-6 miles.

I felt my body getting stronger. I could walk up hills super easily. Stairs. I just felt strong. I had never run more than 11 miles before Sunday, but after the 10 miler, I was sure I could run the full distance. I wasn't sure how it would feel, but I could do it.

Women Running the World organizes training for all different pace groups, plans the routes, etc, and then everyone goes together to a half marathon somewhere in Europe in the spring. Last year was Amsterdam. The year before that Prague. Berlin before that. This year was Hannover, Germany, which I had never heard of. Ok! I'm in. I signed up quickly before I could change my mind. 140 of us traveled to Hannover to run this race. I had about 60 of them on my flight on Friday. Nearly my entire flight back to London was WRW.

On the day of the race, I wanted to be sure my legs were loose, so I had a good breakfast and then went for a beautiful walk in the woods. All of our training was in the morning, but the race was 1pm. Oy. I ate a bread with peanut butter that I brought from home. We did a full group photo. Lauren and I decided to stick together at the start, along with our friend Lisa and one of our leaders, Jane, who used to run WRW and is just a solid rock. She's so consistent and we knew we would feel confident if we could see her. We ended up walking 2 miles to the race, since it was a beautiful day, we had time, and it helped with our nerves. I had half a banana an hour before we started. We peed. We walked around, found or group, the last wave, probably since we were newbies, and we joined in. 

I ran the first two miles with the others, and we were keeping about a ten minute pace. I felt good. I felt like I wanted to run. I turned on my playlist my brother made me and went. I made sure I didn't go faster than 9:30, but I just plowed through. I switched to a little Ezra Klein with Paul Krugman podcast, then back to the music. There were people playing music and cheering the entire route. It was a beautiful town and it seemed like everyone was out rooting for us on the streets. I just pushed and pushed, and I felt great. At 6 miles I had my first fuel. I kept pushing. Another bite at 8 miles, and another at 10. I just kept running and smiling. My cheeks were sore from smiling. So much smiling. My friend Alli had told me that she focused on four words for each of the four quarters of a (FULL!!!!) marathon that she ran recently: Control, Hope, Gratitude, Courage. I thought about those words and everything about them while I ran.

I had planned to really push it for the last two miles, and by the time I got there, I realized I didn't have too much more to push, but I kept it up, and went a bit faster and finished! I ran the whole thing in 2 hours and 8 minutes. My real goal was to finish the race. But the competitive part of me really wanted to get 2:20 or maybe 2:10, but that felt too out of touch, since we were training with such a slower pace. I had never RUN before, I think I had jogged. I had never pushed or felt out of breath. But I did for most of this race. I RAN! And I LOVED it!!! And it's so cool what your body can do, even at 47 years old with a lot of miles and baggage in it! Go me!!! And Lauren. And my whole group that I trained with. It was so special to start and do this together with Lauren, and share the whole year with our whole training group. What a team.

And then there's 2) Germany. 

It was my first time in Germany. Ever. I did go to German-speaking Austria in February. But I went to this place where I have a lot of (negative) history, and these people cheered ME ON! That was weird. My last name of Birnholtz is German and means pear wood. My grandma was in Bergen Belsen in Germany (an hour from where I was, but I looked it up, and there's nothing there - only a memorial, and it's hard to get to, so I didn't go there), and she was liberated from there. Before that (I think? I need to listen to her story again) she was in a camp called Guben. After she had gone back home and realized they couldn't stay there, she ended up at a DP camp in Germany, 5-6 hours from where we were. Then she lived with a family in a different city also far from where I was. Then she took a boat to the US from Bremenhaven, which was one hour from where we were. She spent a lot of time in Germany after the war.

Hildebrandt is also German. Fun fact, there were FIVE people who spell Hildebrandt like we do who also ran the half marathon. I'm never around that many Hildebrandts (other than at my in-laws of course...). 

It's like this partial homeland that I have no positive relationship with. I also have physical reactions sometimes to the German language. I see Polizei and I feel yucky. I wonder who the grandparents were of all of the people in Hannover with me. I have lots of weird and negative thoughts about going to Germany and my family's history. 

It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. People were certainly nice. We didn't interact with THAT MANY locals, to be honest, and everyone seemed so lovely. The guy shouting in German at the start of the race was also playing amazing music. The weather couldn't have been better. The city was actually beautiful and charming - while 90% of it was bombed in WWII, much of it was rebuilt with pre-war look. It was genuinely a pleasant experience, after some complicated expectations.

My pre-race walk in the woods right by the hotel. LOVELY

The tens pace group

Me and Lauren at the start. We made it!!! All the training for THIS!!!

Right after I finished 13.1 miles is a lot!!!

The four from the seven lunch bunchers who made it this year. I love these ladies

A lot of us at the start line, at the finish of the race. The orange hats were amazing to see throughout the race

The celebratory banquet last night. 

Also, we took a picture of the people from Michigan, and there were like 9 of us, including another who went to MY high school and another who went to Andover, the other school in my district that I was meant to go to! Michiganders represent!!!

Michigania

Our democracy seems to be crumbling. It feels incredibly stressful to watch. I yearn for normalcy and comfort. I am also an expat. I have spent 13 of the last 25 years abroad. In that time I have lived in Ann Arbor, DC, New York, Jerusalem, Singapore, Newton and London. And I'm from a different place. I yearn for home - whatever that is. 

There has been one thing I have always been able to rely on. There has been one consistent place (other than my parents' house) I can always go to. There is a big family that is always waiting for me, no matter where I have been living or at what stage of life I have been in. Michigania has been an incredible source of home, love and normalcy in my life.

In 1978, two really important things happened. 1) I was born. 2) My family found out about Michigania. 

There was this family camp for University of Michigan alumni, "up north" in Michigan. My parents heard about it from my mom's cousin. It was a week of rustic cabin camping - three families in a cabin shared one bathroom, not including a shower. You had to walk to the shower house. By the time you came back, your legs were so sandy, you might as well go back. We ate in the dining hall. There were a few main course options, a dessert, a bug juice machine and maybe a vegetable here or there. We had fun all day. Little kids could go to the nursery to have their own camp experience, and parents played tennis, sailed (well at least mine did), swam, crafted, polished rocks, shot arrows or rifles, rode horses - and really enjoyed themselves. Older kids roamed wild and did whatever they wanted.

My family went for the first time when I was seven months old. We brought my older brother Jeremy (2) and my uncle Mark (14). I don't remember that year, but it seems like everyone had fun, because my parents kept going back. Kenny was born. Mark moved on. My parents told their friends about it. In the 80's we went with tons of their friends and their friends' kids. It felt like we knew most of the camp. Maybe 10 or 15 families were dental school friends or dental colleagues or just friends. I went every year until I had to go to Ramah for two months, and I took a few years off. My family kept going. Jeremy worked there here and there. Kenny went most years but also took a few years off when he went to Ramah for the full summer. There were 12 different weeks to camp, and after trying out 7th week with the dentists and maybe a few others, my parents settled into 4th week with our good friends, the Londons, sometime in the late 80s or early 90s. My uncle Mark came back with his wife and three kids.

After my full Ramah summers, I returned to Michigania in 1999 (I think) for a few years, even when I was working at Ramah, I negotiated this week of Michigania into my summer contract. Since then I have made it a huge priority in my life. I even negotiated it into my marriage. My whole family always shows up. My aunt, uncle and three cousins go each year, and together with my whole family, we all stay in a cabin together. I was able to go most years I lived in Singapore - one year I even surprised my parents, with the director's help. Not only did we make it a priority, but there were about 40-50 other families who went the same week as us who also made it a huge priority, and we all showed up year after year. Our camp family. Generally we were camp friends. We showed up each July as if no time had passed, caught up in a few minutes and then played volleyball, tennis, games, walked...the same stuff, year after year. There are always a few texts and conversations throughout the years. For each other's life events, we showed up. We celebrated at each other's weddings. When my brother died, our camp family was there. That first summer back to camp after Kenny died, the camp family held up my mom. We love so many people at camp, and we have spent this week together for about thirty years at this point - a huge part of my life (longer for my parents). 

Since we had children, it was the best week of the year. The kids are SO happy. Grandparents read stories on the porch, played games, pitched balls on the hill outside our cabin. The kids dreamed about Michigania. They sang the songs on car trips. They talk about their first horse ride. They discuss which archery award they want to go for first next year. They talk about their camp friends and how they can't wait for that independence, together with their friends, walking all around camp, whenever they want, wherever they want. Playing in the volleyball court after dinner. Coming back to the cabin at the end of the day so so dirty with endless sand in their hair.

Camp is such special time with our family and our close friends. The Londons in particular, who lived across the street from us when we were little, and we still spend the week together each year. We kids were friends and grew up there, and now our kids are friends. It warms my heart when I see our children playing together - similar to how it warms our parents' hearts when they saw us playing together. And the relationships are intergenerational - we play games with all three generations. I truly love them all. And their family has other families that they're just as close to. Everyone has their fourth week families.

Matt and I made Michigania a giving priority. We always donated some money each year, since it was a place that was so deep in my heart. When my dad retired, we donated a bench in his honor at camp. When it was my uncle's big birthday, we donated a whole load of board games to camp. It was a source of only happiness and love for all of us. No matter what we're doing over the summer, we always organize it around Michigania. 

Then. The world stopped. 2020. Nothing happened. Of course, that included Michigania. I truly wondered if life would go on without Michigania. We ended up going to my aunt and uncle's house on the lake that summer and driving by camp, and I couldn't help but cry. How could we not be there with all of our people, doing what we always do. For the last 40+ years!!! It broke my heart.

2021 it was a reduced crowd with vaccination requirements, masks and reduced activities, but we were back and so so grateful. 

Then there was an announcement that camp could benefit many more Michigan alumni, and it was being enjoyed by too few. They were changing the registration process, and for 2022 you had to register the moment it opened and pay for the whole thing up front. This meant that people who aren't as tech savvy, people who had to be at work that particular day, people who got their U of M alumni association ID wrong by a digit, or people who don't have $10,000 on their immediate credit limit and at their disposal didn't get in. I heard that seconds after registration opened it was full our week (and many others). Processes from years past were thrown away, and whoever got in got in. It was a traumatic process for us all who have been there for years. We had so many discussions about how we want other people to enjoy it, but we also want to know that we can continue to enjoy camp. Can camp expand? Can there be more weeks? Can we take one year on with all of our people and then we all take one year off? Plus, confirmations come out in February some time, and summer camps on the east coast are mostly full by January. Summers aren't super flexible at that point. 

2023 and 2024 brought many many people onto the waitlist, but in the end, most of our Michigania family usually got in, some at the last minute. 

Now this year, nearly all of my Michigania family is on the waitlist. The whole London family. My good friends from camp and Michigan who have gone our week to be with our family for the last ten or so years didn't get in. Plus, the price rose so so much, that it is now cheaper for our family of five to spend a week in the Maldives or at a Club Med in Mauritius (both of which we did in the last few years) for cheaper. Yes, many people don't have to fly to get to Michigania, but we do - so add that to the price.

We find ourselves asking if it's worth the money. We find ourselves asking if we want to go if it's just our family and a few others, but not our usual people. We won't be able to play boggle at night with anyone. It would be a big focus on just a few people. The activities are still fun, but that's not why we go. 

I get that things change, but this change is really a hard one for me. To not have the comfort and normalcy of camp during this time of transition in our lives, as we move back to the US, and in our country's government, is a hard break.

I also absolutely understand that this is a big problem of privilege. Wah wah we can't go to summer camp with our friends. But it's real for our family, and it's super disappointing.

2024

2023

2022

2021

2019

2018

2017

2016

2015

Sam's first year

Sam's friend group - been friends since they were very small. Still friends.

Koby playing tennis with papa

Koby climbing the sand dunes

with cousin, Eric

2022 I had a torn calf. Miserable for my body. Still an amazing week

Elie spent all of last summer Michigania at riflery. Hours and hours

Elie sterning

papa and his bench

me doing riflery

ready for the unicorn

my dad and uncle are pickleball superheros

the twice daily sunscreen shmear is usually the only time I see my kids. Breakfast and lunch.

Jer helps to emcee the last night's show each night. This year the main emcee didn't get in. He has emceed the show since the 1980s and is a huge part of our michigania family

amazing time with amazing friends. the one on the right has been a good friend since 1990. from camp and michigan and now michigania. and i love his wife too. part of our michigania family.

my brother takes the boys sailing

a quick read before falling asleep in the michigania bed

Koby's first hayride