orange
05-04-03, 08:14 AM
I had planned a long time to take up running as a part of my training, when the weather got warmer. By mars I bought myself a pair of shoes. Didn't care much for the quality - which turned out to be a genuine rookie-mistake. "These shoes borders what legally can't be called runningshoes and runningshoes", to quote the clerk.
Got on a schedule. I started out with 3.5 km but increased to 7 km after a few days. By mid april I was running 10 km. Altered my course a little one day and ran past a sign that said "Half-marathon may 3rd". Wow! How hard can it be, I thought to myself. I already run 10 km three days a week. With a slower pace the first 10 km I can do this thing.
I have to admit I felt a little lonely among all the other runners yesterday at 11.00. I had hardly gotten any sleep at all, as I came off a nightshift by 6 a.m. Apperently the people at the schedule-department havn't seen the words jogging and sleeping in the same sentence before, so every attempt to get off was in vain.
The weather was cold and foggy when the race finally started. With 400+ contenders, I was in the back with the other beginners. The gun set us off, especially those in the front row who ran like they were chased by wild beavers. I ran calmy in the same pace as I usually do, maybe a bit faster. I advanced some in the first 3 km or so, and got myself to what I appreciated was here:
[0]------> <-----------[10]
where 0 the last and 10 the one who ran like he was on fire.
At 5 km or so, the gaps between the groups of runners was about 20-30 meters. I ran behind what I first saw as a guy, but later a girl. I just couldn't decide which. It was built like a man, but would a man wear a white t-shirt and a black bra? My main source of motivation the following 5 km was to uncover the sex of this mysterious being.
You think about all kinds of stuff when you're running and you start to get tired. Not just if this thing was a transvestite or just a very well built girl, but of other things. Sciforums came up once actually, guess I should thank some people here for that. Andy, you made me giggle when I passed the 8 km-bar. And spookz, I love your comments. At 11 km I finally passed the black bra, who was a dude. Main motivation quickly changed.
I started advancing again, and brought myself up to what I hope to be somewhere in the middle. At 15 km, I got right behind this woman I'd seen earlier at warmup. She was wearing a belt with like 10 small bottles of water. My first thoughts were "wtf, is she banned from the water-stands every 5 km? I just can't lose to her! I can't!" Everything I knew about selfimprovement and running against myself went straight out the window. I ran behind her for a kilometer or so, and passed her as she took up a new bottle.
The last few kilometers the gaps around me were at least 100 meters. The last part uphill was a killer, and a few had stopped to walk. I wasn't thinking straight at this point, I just wanted to get to the goal and finish the god-forsaken race. I wanted to take a hot bath or maybe lie in the grass for about half an hour and stare at the cool diploma I was going to get.
"Number 339, Michael Thelin, coming in with high speed, finishing at... 1.46.27!", said a commentator in the stadium-speakers. Woho! What a relief! I finally got that the diploma, and I loved life like nothing else for a few minutes, before I realised I almost couldn't walk due to my sore knees and toes. :)
Thanks for reading!
Got on a schedule. I started out with 3.5 km but increased to 7 km after a few days. By mid april I was running 10 km. Altered my course a little one day and ran past a sign that said "Half-marathon may 3rd". Wow! How hard can it be, I thought to myself. I already run 10 km three days a week. With a slower pace the first 10 km I can do this thing.
I have to admit I felt a little lonely among all the other runners yesterday at 11.00. I had hardly gotten any sleep at all, as I came off a nightshift by 6 a.m. Apperently the people at the schedule-department havn't seen the words jogging and sleeping in the same sentence before, so every attempt to get off was in vain.
The weather was cold and foggy when the race finally started. With 400+ contenders, I was in the back with the other beginners. The gun set us off, especially those in the front row who ran like they were chased by wild beavers. I ran calmy in the same pace as I usually do, maybe a bit faster. I advanced some in the first 3 km or so, and got myself to what I appreciated was here:
[0]------> <-----------[10]
where 0 the last and 10 the one who ran like he was on fire.
At 5 km or so, the gaps between the groups of runners was about 20-30 meters. I ran behind what I first saw as a guy, but later a girl. I just couldn't decide which. It was built like a man, but would a man wear a white t-shirt and a black bra? My main source of motivation the following 5 km was to uncover the sex of this mysterious being.
You think about all kinds of stuff when you're running and you start to get tired. Not just if this thing was a transvestite or just a very well built girl, but of other things. Sciforums came up once actually, guess I should thank some people here for that. Andy, you made me giggle when I passed the 8 km-bar. And spookz, I love your comments. At 11 km I finally passed the black bra, who was a dude. Main motivation quickly changed.
I started advancing again, and brought myself up to what I hope to be somewhere in the middle. At 15 km, I got right behind this woman I'd seen earlier at warmup. She was wearing a belt with like 10 small bottles of water. My first thoughts were "wtf, is she banned from the water-stands every 5 km? I just can't lose to her! I can't!" Everything I knew about selfimprovement and running against myself went straight out the window. I ran behind her for a kilometer or so, and passed her as she took up a new bottle.
The last few kilometers the gaps around me were at least 100 meters. The last part uphill was a killer, and a few had stopped to walk. I wasn't thinking straight at this point, I just wanted to get to the goal and finish the god-forsaken race. I wanted to take a hot bath or maybe lie in the grass for about half an hour and stare at the cool diploma I was going to get.
"Number 339, Michael Thelin, coming in with high speed, finishing at... 1.46.27!", said a commentator in the stadium-speakers. Woho! What a relief! I finally got that the diploma, and I loved life like nothing else for a few minutes, before I realised I almost couldn't walk due to my sore knees and toes. :)
Thanks for reading!