7 November 2010
I went for my first half-marathon with a lot of anxiety and anticipation. I had never felt like that since my Maths A-Level exam I think…waking 2 hours before the race and visiting the toilet twice before leaving home. I had prepared for it, following rigorously a half-marathon program meant to achieve a 1:45 time through rainy cold mornings and hot sweaty afternoons, never faltering. I had run a complete half-marathon two weeks before in 1:55, knowing that the adrenalin on race day will be much higher, with the cheering of the supporters and the buzz of other athletes. Then again, I also knew that the Zurrieq route would be much more hilly than the route I had tried.
After following my usual pre-race rituals: first toilet visit, eating a toast, applying Vaseline at crucial places (dumb me forgot my nipples and their friction with the running shirt, still nursing a badly red and sore pair), setting up my Garmin watch virtual partner, a last glass of water, and a last visit to the toilet, and off I was. This was going to be a kick a** day!
Arriving at Zurrieq, I met fellow St. Patrick’s runners and other friends. Cyprian (a mentor and big-time motivator), Maria, Alan, Jonathan, Seb (who like me was just doing his first HM), and Warren (my first training buddy on our maiden President’s Run just a year ago). Zurrieq Square was all geared up, a bunch of foreign runners making it special, and Eye of the Tiger and Run Like Hell playing out loud on the speakers! A bunch of 120 runners placed themselves at the start line, revving to go to test their physical limits, mental strengths and fighting spirits! The gun was fired and off we went!
I started off a bit faster than I had planned. I intended to go at 5min/km the whole way, and then try to push on the final stretch, but the desire to keep up with some friends like Cyprian made me go at 4:30. Up to last June, this was my 10k pace. But anyway, there’s nothing better than facing such a solitary challenge in good company, so I decided to stick up with them as far as I could. A slow down came at the first uphill road to Siggiewi. We both eased it down a bit to the planned 5min/km pace and held it there.
Then the first real challenging climb came up at about the 8th km, going up to Dar tal-Providenza. A 3km uphill struggle. We were joined by Antoine here, another Gudja runner, and we faced it beautifully, alternatively pushing and encouraging each other on. Then the downhill near Hagar Qim to Wied iz-Zurrieq. This could well be my turning point. I felt like I could let myself go, no braking, no thinking. A wish to keep with Cyprian to push him on cropped up. He had encouraged me on so many races, I felt it was like a duty. But he soon switched it off for me: “GO…if you lose another second because of me I’ll beat you up!” And off I went!
Reaching Wied iz-Zurrieq I suddenly realized that I still had another two climbs ahead…and more than 7k to go. My legs cried “Stop! Slow it down, we cannot keep this for that long!” But there, just at the right time, the sight of two very special persons, Diane and my mum, cheering me to push on, triggered another voice, that fighting spirit, crying “No slowing! Keep the pace, hold the race!” And I did, all the way up to Zurrieq, all the way along the bypass, all the climb through Kirkop and Safi and back to Zurrieq, finally sprinting with all that was left in me through the finish line…the glorious finish line, with the race clock showing:
1:42’56
2 whole minutes below my target. I collapsed to the ground, body shut down, heart-beat going at 205bpm, in desperate need of water and sugars, shattered on the outside but re-newed on the inside. A body obliterated…a spirit re-born! With the next target already set: close in as much as possible on 1:35 by February’s Malta Land Rover HM, the day after my quarter-century birthday!
I also realized that precisely a year after my maiden 4k jog with Warren, 4 kilometers have changed from being a long run to becoming a final uphill sprint!
I went for my first half-marathon with a lot of anxiety and anticipation. I had never felt like that since my Maths A-Level exam I think…waking 2 hours before the race and visiting the toilet twice before leaving home. I had prepared for it, following rigorously a half-marathon program meant to achieve a 1:45 time through rainy cold mornings and hot sweaty afternoons, never faltering. I had run a complete half-marathon two weeks before in 1:55, knowing that the adrenalin on race day will be much higher, with the cheering of the supporters and the buzz of other athletes. Then again, I also knew that the Zurrieq route would be much more hilly than the route I had tried.
After following my usual pre-race rituals: first toilet visit, eating a toast, applying Vaseline at crucial places (dumb me forgot my nipples and their friction with the running shirt, still nursing a badly red and sore pair), setting up my Garmin watch virtual partner, a last glass of water, and a last visit to the toilet, and off I was. This was going to be a kick a** day!
Arriving at Zurrieq, I met fellow St. Patrick’s runners and other friends. Cyprian (a mentor and big-time motivator), Maria, Alan, Jonathan, Seb (who like me was just doing his first HM), and Warren (my first training buddy on our maiden President’s Run just a year ago). Zurrieq Square was all geared up, a bunch of foreign runners making it special, and Eye of the Tiger and Run Like Hell playing out loud on the speakers! A bunch of 120 runners placed themselves at the start line, revving to go to test their physical limits, mental strengths and fighting spirits! The gun was fired and off we went!
I started off a bit faster than I had planned. I intended to go at 5min/km the whole way, and then try to push on the final stretch, but the desire to keep up with some friends like Cyprian made me go at 4:30. Up to last June, this was my 10k pace. But anyway, there’s nothing better than facing such a solitary challenge in good company, so I decided to stick up with them as far as I could. A slow down came at the first uphill road to Siggiewi. We both eased it down a bit to the planned 5min/km pace and held it there.
Then the first real challenging climb came up at about the 8th km, going up to Dar tal-Providenza. A 3km uphill struggle. We were joined by Antoine here, another Gudja runner, and we faced it beautifully, alternatively pushing and encouraging each other on. Then the downhill near Hagar Qim to Wied iz-Zurrieq. This could well be my turning point. I felt like I could let myself go, no braking, no thinking. A wish to keep with Cyprian to push him on cropped up. He had encouraged me on so many races, I felt it was like a duty. But he soon switched it off for me: “GO…if you lose another second because of me I’ll beat you up!” And off I went!
Reaching Wied iz-Zurrieq I suddenly realized that I still had another two climbs ahead…and more than 7k to go. My legs cried “Stop! Slow it down, we cannot keep this for that long!” But there, just at the right time, the sight of two very special persons, Diane and my mum, cheering me to push on, triggered another voice, that fighting spirit, crying “No slowing! Keep the pace, hold the race!” And I did, all the way up to Zurrieq, all the way along the bypass, all the climb through Kirkop and Safi and back to Zurrieq, finally sprinting with all that was left in me through the finish line…the glorious finish line, with the race clock showing:
1:42’56
2 whole minutes below my target. I collapsed to the ground, body shut down, heart-beat going at 205bpm, in desperate need of water and sugars, shattered on the outside but re-newed on the inside. A body obliterated…a spirit re-born! With the next target already set: close in as much as possible on 1:35 by February’s Malta Land Rover HM, the day after my quarter-century birthday!
I also realized that precisely a year after my maiden 4k jog with Warren, 4 kilometers have changed from being a long run to becoming a final uphill sprint!
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