Sunday, October 15, 2017

Amsterdam

There are many excuses going into this one:
  • It's been 100 degrees for the past 2 months. Monsoon season so more humidity than Florida, harsh rains.
  • Work has been busy - busting my butt to do a good job
  • Stomach issue - the death gut of Africa reared its ugly head again and I have been fighting that - pills (up to 19 a day), ultrasounds, endoscopy - all indicating H. Pylori bacterial infection, gastritis, and a hell of a month of feeling like crap
  • Undertaining - let's face it; this is the real kicker. When you don't put in the work, you are going to pay.
I have to admit that after 70 marathons, this one came with probably more fear and uncertainty than perhaps 65 others.  I was really unsure how it would go.  Couple that with a hell of a busy week, an overnight flight Friday to Saturday, and the day spent walking around the city (my feet were so sore I could barely stand), I was not ideally suited for the running of the Amsterdam Marathon on Sunday.  But with temps predicted to be "hot" (yes, that is 22 degrees Celsius as a high (when we have had 39 in India for all this month), I walked to the start excited. 

It was my first BIG marathon in a while, and I had forgotten just how chaotic the start area is, and just how many people are on this journey.  After 45 min of waiting, the gun went off and I ran with thousands of others, making my way through the masses.  The girls came out to see me at the 1K before their races started - it was a family affair.  I ran 5:05 for the first kilometer and tried to slow from there but I kept coming in sub-5 for each marker.  The course eased into the park and out into the city, winding its way around the canals and buildings. It was a lovely tour of the area.

After about 12k we started to make our way down the Amstel river.  Here there were no buildings and fewer spectators, and the run turned into more of a scenic stroll than a race. The tranquility was punctuated with screaming fans periodically, but mostly it was just a group of people running on a path by a river. 

Waving to the girls who were
playing by the river
I kept expecting it to get harder, but I did fine for 10k, then fine at halfway. I just thought, "Get to 30K," then "32k"), and I did.  Never wanting to push my luck, I could have run faster but I feared the cost of blowing up on a lack of training.  When I hit 38k by the Heineken brewery I started to feel it. My body just wasn't in 26.2 shape.  But I knew the girls were at 40k, and this was a welcoming thought.  I rolled past 40k and saw them in the park, and I slowed to celebrate their runs.  Starting back up, I knew I had made a mistake. All the acid rushed to my legs and the pain was there. My good run was over.  I hobbled back up to speed and thankfully found this guy who had been with me for a while. He was being paced in by another guy who wasn't registered so I said I would take him to the line and I made him run all the way in with me. It felt good to focus on others. 

At 3:25:26 it wasn't one of my better times, but it was my 71st marathon in my 10th country.  I ran 48:17, 48:35; 48:17, 49:10 for my 10K splits. I ran 5:05 the first K and did not miss breaking 5 again until the 41st when I stopped to talk to the girls.  I was incredibly happy with this, given all that had happened, but I was pretty sore for a few days. The body just doesn't recover all that well without training. 



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