DNF.
Unsuccessful.
That was about all I wanted to write as I was walking in the
final 7k of the race today. I had
already shut it down – stopped pushing around 23-24k, but I was determined to
keep jogging to at least cover the distance.
By 35k, I was really in a lot of pain (part of what stopped me from
racing at 23k, only with another 12k of easy running to exacerbate it), and –
to be honest – I was sick of having people cheer me on. I know the spectators
mean well when they encourage struggling runners….and on another day I might do
the same, myself. On another day, I
might even have picked up the pace and finished at a jog. Today was not that day.
I don’t feel like re-living the race, so I’ll keep this
short (by my standards!): I felt good as we got to the start line. Body felt ready to race. The early kilometers were good – I kept
having to slow myself down. Unfortunately,
after cruising with the lead women for a few kms, I realized they were
consistently running 3:18 per km – too fast for me to hang on for 42k. I dropped back, and found myself alone on the
course. The story of so many
marathons! There’s a pack going 2:20ish
pace, and a pack going 2:30ish pace…but nobody in between. (I haven’t checked
the results, so my estimates may be off.
All I know is that at 3:22-3:25 per km, there was a guy about 20m ahead
of me, and the third woman made her way onto my shoulder for a while. Nobody
else nearby.) To add to my frustration, it was a blustery day. I noticed my pace slowing to 3:30ish on the
kms we were facing the headwind. Happily the course twists and turns, so there
weren’t too many long straight-aways into the wind. (Of course, that also meant
there weren’t too many straight-aways with a tail-wind, either…) Effort felt
pretty good, and my legs had speed…. About 12k in, my body started hurting –
calves, quads, arms, back….what the hell? Things went downhill from there. Except at Rotterdam, there are no real downhills
to spur you on.
Given the winter we had, I did most of my training on
treadmills. As a result, my legs aren’t
as tough as they once were.
Nevertheless, I handled a couple of 45k training runs alright. (Alright
as far as the legs go….I did run out of sugar on one and eventually hitch-hiked
back to my car after weaving all over the road, struggling to keep moving on a
downhill. That’s another story!). I don’t know if it’s something to do with
that, or maybe just that I’ve forgotten how a marathon feels – it has been a
long time since I’ve raced one. Do they
always hurt that much…?
I sat and felt sorry for myself for a while in the empty
locker room at the Athletic Centre to which we “sub-elites” were given access
today. I felt like a bit of a poseur in
there, though Kenyan elites are the first to drop out of any race that isn’t
going well. (I saw some do that today!)
I don’t really know what stubborn part of me wasn’t willing to drop out
when the figure-eight course crossed back over the finishing area at
24-25k. I saw some other guys walking
off the course then….. Was that some ridiculous version of optimism on my part?
Anyway, I sat there, feeling like the whole trip was a waste, until a nudge
from a friend over email reminded me that “I’m in FUCKING HOLLAND!!” True. I’m
on vacation, and it’s just a stupid race. In my minimal experience (Comrades
marathon and now Rotterdam), I don’t seem to race well after a long flight and
a time change. Guess it’s a good thing
I’m not going to qualify for the Olympics!
It’s also a good thing I was able to (forced to?) rebound
post-race, because my day had a few more hiccoughs in store. First: no hot water for my shower at the
Athletic Centre. None. I was already cold, and then this was just a
slap in the face on a bad day. I suppose
it was better than the no water I had by the time I left my hotel room this morning
(miraculously, I did have hot water for my shower this morning), but….I think
that last time I flushed the toilet used up whatever was left in the hotel’s
reserves. Finally, after I left the
Athletic Centre, I went to retrieve my bag from the start line. We “sub-elites” were instructed to leave bags
in our own separate area until after the race. I fought my way through the
crowds back to the start (the Dutch reliance on bicycles is great, until they
are adding to the frustration of fighting through a crowd!) and…my bag was
gone. Not sure how I’m going to tell Skechers that I need to be re-stocked so
soon! Whereas I have generally found everyone to be extremely helpful and kind
here so far, I simply got blank stares and shrugged shoulders when I asked
where the bags might have gone. Lacking
any other plan, I returned to the Athletic Centre again (it wasn’t exactly far,
but it wasn’t next door, either!) and proceeded to argue with the woman at the front
desk about whether or not I was allowed back up to the pre-marathon room. She assured me that no-one was left up there. Finally she relented and allowed me to go see
for myself. There were still people
there, thankfully, packing up, and wondering what to do with the remaining
bags. Mine included!
As I walked to a Laundromat this afternoon (yep, that’s my
exciting post race adventure), I saw piles and piles of empty cups and water
bottles, discarded plastic bags, and assorted other garbage. What a disturbing cost to a race. Not only the production of such waste, but
the unconstrained discarding of it around an otherwise scenic fountain on a roundabout.
Oh, but the Dutch live up to their reputation for
cleanliness! An hour later, as I
returned from the Laundromat, I looked at the fountain that had been a
veritable trash-heap shortly before:
I asked at the front desk of the hotel what would be a fun
way to spend my last evening in Rotterdam.
Apparently the football (soccer) team is playing, so she suggested
finding my way to a pub and enjoying the atmosphere. Could be fun. I mean, even though I find watching football (soccer)
on TV to be rather boring. Shhh!!!! ;)
………………….
I’ve just returned from a evening of wandering around
Rotterdam. (I didn’t go to a pub.) The downtown core get pretty sleepy on a
Sunday evening, it seems. Picturesque,
looking out on the harbour and the river:
Even the graffiti here has a nautical theme!
Finally, it seems the Dutch penchant for inspiring
quotations continues at this hotel. I
like this:
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