46 days ...
I'm back to tell my latest adventure (perhaps I should say misfortune). After a short jog on Wednesday, when I tried the Nike LunerGlide 2 +, on Sunday I ran a 22km Preganziol other. Expectations after Fossalunga were substantial and I knew that, to better manage the forces, I would have improved.
Arrive at your destination a little late (compared to my usual), so I subscribe to sling, the withdrawal crostoli, I'm going to change and do some jog heating. The speaker presses every 30 seconds saying what is missing at the start: taking anxiety I decided to go to the start. I think Heidi and I know Elise, with which I entertain up to the shot.
The first kilometers are frantic, because of the simultaneous departure of all the mileage. When the crowd thins out, I start to hold my hand. In an almost phobic control over the SportBand, not make the mistake as last time when I started too hard, and try to stay on 4'50 ". I go looking for runners to use as a reference, but it is still too early and no one has yet decided to take that step. Towards the fourth km'm a guy who keeps my rhythm, so I decide to keep up with a wheel ... until it turns towards the path of 12. Lost. Damn. The first 8km
fly, without my make too much account. The left shoe is not connected to the fullest, but not a big deal.
But I am doubtful about the location of refreshments. The first was the fifth, then I find a 11th kilometer. I have taken away the "vial" of energy gel, to see how it works. It should be taken with water, and then not knowing if there would be other refreshments I stop.
I open the pocket of the shorts, careful not to lose Ipod and car keys, I'm gels, drink half a glass of water. Zip it ready to go ... no ... wait ...
cabbage but has run
stuck ... but ... what? ...
Rest in hand with the hinge
[lengthy and complex curses]
If even the brand of my shorts I was cute, now I feel deep hatred. I see that the reader "should be" the same. The car keys sull'elastico the slip of the pants. I state that the remaining kilometers I made them with the fear of losing them.
arrive at the 12th kilometer, and the dreaded happens: muscle pain, already present in Fossalunga but not calculated, is presented in all its heaviness. Any reference to the right leg is painful and slow, which means the falling of heavy foot on the asphalt. I see another restaurant at 16th and cursing, I decided to walk fifty yards, take the opportunity to drink. On the restart pain set, but just 2 km because this back in all its power. On the 20th I decide to walk again for another fifty yards. Do not take it anymore. I envy the guy that found the top then cut to the route of 12km.
plodding, step under the arch there. I delivered the package is "KM22, you get 258."
The clock shows 1:48 a.m., 'medium pace of 4'58 ". I state that has been paused xi 30 seconds of rest.
A pull up the moral, I find it refreshing to some members of the forum in which exchange a few words and I got to meet some nice anecdote, until we do not realize that we are the only ones left and we decided to say goodbye.
Race disheartening, it was a bad emotional blow. For both high expectations for both the great pain.
Sunday I play the last card: 12th marathon Valentine Cessalto, 33km.
Either go, or I slit.
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