Five kilometres at Qrendi

Five kilometres are relatively short.  At least in my nowadays frame of mind.  But short doesn’t mean easy.  And shortcuts in running don’t exist either.

In the morning, waiting for the shorter hand of an analogue watch to get on one to then make my move and travel to the race, am thinking that the shorter the route, the higher the effort required. 

It’s now three weeks since the last race, training has been consistent with the rest of life going around it, and in this periodization period it feels like we’re being built slowly, surely and efficiently.

The route for today’s race at the southern Qrendi is new to me.  Light blue vests with the Mellieha emblem are all over the place and conversely to the route, they’re the most familiar.  Wearing one of them, it makes you feel you belong.  With most of us under the guidance of the same coach and mentor it feels even more complete.

Three o’clock and am standing.  Am idle and for such a position the heart beat is higher than usual.  Am expecting the signal to start.  And it duly arrives.  A brash start in the mass of runners but soon I find my tempo and am faster than three weeks ago with lesser effort.  The second kilometre is heading to the same direction as gravity, and it feels nice accepting the help of the force.  Another half a kilometre and it’s now back to where we started to finish.  What was till a few minutes ago a gentle help will now turn to an extra irritation.  Life may be as fickle as that.

The breathing gets harder, teeth are admittedly gritted, all for the sake of a finishing line. But I know this will not last too long, and soon it would be the last straight home.  The average timing gets understandably higher but then the last push makes up for it.  The average pace is 4:19/km, and the timer is stopped at 21:41.

I pick up my breath again, return from nowhere land, grab a bottle of water and I feel quietly satisfied.  Stories of the race are swapped and it’s time for another run this time in the form of a cool down, in a nice breeze with blue vests around again, a just reward for the entails before.

Buġibba Garmin 10k Race

The road was a bit like a swinging cradle.  Soft curvy slope heading down at the start and then a gentle uphill that doesn’t really ask too much out of you, but in its own way reminds you that to enjoy throbbing you have to take the thumping in your stride.  Being on a cost road, had the road only headed down, rather than a finishing line, it was only the sea that you could look forward to. 

In the midst of all this, I was checking my watch every now and then, making sure that my rhythm of 4:36 minutes/km was being kept.

I’ve now got a couple of 10km races under my belt, but for this season it was the first one.  And firsts always bring their excitement, from opposite points.  At one point, I was looking forward for the first race to kick start properly the season, and at the other end I was afraid that it would all go awry.  Running is cheaper than therapy, but having had two consecutive negative 10km races at the end of last season, rather than just run, I had to race again to properly banish them both.

Running is just a metaphor for life.  And thus control was my priority.  I used to treat every race as a possibility for a personal best.  As if to arrive from one point to another you only have to press the accelerator and treat the breaking pedal as just something in the way.

The first five kilometres were now under my belt and the tempo was exactly what I planned albeit admittedly one kilometre was making up slightly for the other.  It was now all about how to react for the last five.  Deep, deep down before I was dreaming that maybe I can start to fly after the fifth kilometre, but I knew that on the day and at this stage of the season, it couldn’t be possible.  But one stride after another, I equally knew that I am getting closer to the finishing line and the discipline in the pace is being kept.

I felt strong enough to take on a couple of runners, but the clock was showing an average pace of 4:37/km and then 4:38.  Knowing that now I am only in the ninth kilometre I did press hard, and managed to lower my average pace by a second.  Another second and I would hit exactly the target.

The finishing line though has arrived, the watch had to be stopped, and had to do with an average pace of 4:37/km and a total time of 46:12.

Breathing it all out ten whole kilometres instantly made up for it.  The great after race feeling was about to start.

Prague Half Marathon

We made our way from one tube station to another. The stations were choc-a-bloc. My stomach was similarly crowded. With butterflies and moths. Butterflies trying to migrate hope into my mind, the moths doubts. Being bitterly cold, the moths were feeling more at home.

Getting out of the Staromêstská station, the starting line beckons and the surrounding area is a little town waiting for some 10,000 runners. It does feel good to carry a number that for the day is the passport that allows you access to this exclusive area. We’ve made it in good time, familiarise ourselves with the facilities on offer, and in no time it’s finally time to get changed and hand the bag over. Following that, it’s admittance that the time has finally come to start.

This is my sixth half marathon, and the third one this calendar year. Rubbing my shoulders alongside 10,000 runners I should be in my element after getting so immersed in this graceful sport. And part of me is. The other part knows though that at some point during the twenty-one kilometres staring in front of me, my reserves will have to be questioned and will have to dig deep to let them do their work.

It then started. The road is smooth, and I remind myself it is a privilege to be running in the city of Prague with the roads closed for traffic. Runners pass me by, I pass by others. But I time myself for the first kilometre well.

A few kilometres more down the line, the road changes and am reminded that this is a medieval city. The tarmac changes into cobblestones and gets unforgiving as a big city like Prague can be. They are uncomfortable and more effort is required.

More kilometres are covered, alternating between tarmac and cobblestones. I am on time, but I am feeling my energy levels going down. At around the sixteenth kilometre, the guy pacing for 1:40 pass me by. He is still close, but it is the time to ask my reserves to get out. They don’t let me down by any means as they’ve been trained but they can only grind rather than flow.

I go through a mine, my Garmin loses connection. The wind is felt strong against my face and chest. Were it a mere feeling or a fact, I’ll never know. I am partly disappointed seeing the numbers on my timer getting higher, but it’s time for the last push, and from the cobblestones I transport myself to the blue carpet closing home.

I finish at 1:45:13. Almost four minutes askew my personal best achieved last February. But as I walk towards the Czech volunteer with the medals in her hand, I do feel good, and remind myself I’ve just lived an experience that will stay with me.

It’s no time to pop champagne corks but the sweat is still all mine and at this time it's warming me.

Joe Farrugia was one of the athletes finishing the Malta Marathon with more years on his life account than kilometres covered. And true to his usual self, he didn't just make the numbers as crossing the finish line at 3:15:15, he was the 48^th overall, and second in the 55-59 Age Category. His wife, three daughters and grand daughters cheering him on the sidelines were surely not let down.

Joe, you said in your last interview that running effects your well-being. Now that you’ve returned and conquered the ultimate distance of running, i.e. the marathon, how good do you feel?

Well, after the finish I felt very tired, but now I’m getting my strength back and am looking forward for the next events.

I’ve heard you didn’t have the ideal preparation for the marathon. What went wrong during the preparation?

At first I had problems regarding my family, which were fortunately solved. Then I had some physical problems too and had to do some tests at the hospital. It was too much too handle and I was losing my concentration. Fortunately, everything got sorted out.

Still, you managed a very respectable time and placing. It seems you’ve got it in you to defy all the odds. Apart from that what helped you through out? Having been through a marathon three times before, how much that helped psychologically?

Experience is very important when it comes to sports and thus I have learned a lot through past marathons.

It also seemed you had a running partner in your team-mate Sam Attard, and in fact finished the marathon very close to each other. Did you run most of the marathon together, and how much running with someone else helps?

Sam, was a good partner and pacer during the last marathon. We ran forty kilometres together, we were six athletes running together at a constant pace. Sam, an Italian, a Spanish, a French, a Scottish and I. We all pulled each other for the first twenty-five kilometres. However after KM25 the Spanish guy ran off being younger and stronger than the rest of the group. Then after twenty-nine kilometres Sam and I left the others behind and helped each other by keeping a fast, steady pace.

Looking back with hindsight on your side, would you have run the first part of the marathon faster or slower? How different in terms of timing and feelings were the first and second part? Did you feel like hitting any walls at times?

If I were running alone I think I would have ran faster the first part but would have performed the second part at a slower pace. At KM32, climbing up the hill at Blata il-Bajda it felt like hitting a big wall.

Finally, a half marathon in Prague at the end of March is on the horizon for you. After a whole marathon how are you feeling for your next challenge?

I hope to recover my strength back as soon as possible, hoping to obtain a respectable time. Looking forward to another experience!

The interview with Joseph Farrugia prior to the marathon is found here.

The linear rise

Once while on duty Sam Attard realised that he had to get fit. Then he started to jog. Then to run. Then to race. A commitment to become a marathoner followed. The week before the race with Greek origins he was being tormented by a Greek named injury: the Achilles heel. But that was just one hurdle which made the finishing line sweeter.

Sam, it’s now more than a week since you’ve done and finished the marathon, has it sunk in yet?

I’m still thinking and talking about it. I have been telling everyone, runners and not, about the experience and the feeling when touching the finish touchline. Thinking of being a marathoner, makes me happy.

I know that you had some problems in your legs in the week of the marathon. How much did they affect before and during the marathon?

Yes, eight days before the marathon I felt pain in my right Achilles. During this period I went to my physio four times and had to stop training for a whole week. At the start of the race, I felt the pain, but after covering ten kilometres I did not feel any further pain at all. However, I had to stop three times to stretch due to cramps.

Standing there at the starting line, what were your thoughts, and did you have any lingering doubts?

My thoughts were ‘Am I going to finish the race?’ I had my doubts not because I was not trained and mentally prepared for the race, but my concern was more about my Achilles injury. At the same time I was excited and trying to convince myself that I was going to do it.

How much did the first part of the marathon differ from the second part?

It’s not the same. I managed to run the first half of the marathon in 1 hour 34 minutes and the second part in 1 hour 40 minutes. After doing 30km, I had a feeling of discomfort in my legs and for this reason I lost precious time as I had to stop three times after the 25 kilometre mark. This was my first experience, so next time I will definitely try to keep my target pace.

Where there any particular moments of crisis during the whole route?

None at all. For most of the race I ran with Joe Farrugia. We pushed and encouraged each other all the way. At one time we were running with a group of foreigners amongst whom were a French , Spanish and German runner. The wind was no help at all but one need to get accustomed to the weather conditions.

You have done the Life Cycle before, which is another amazing feat. How does running a marathon compare to it?

I took part in the Life Cycle in 2006. We cycle toured from Norway to Sweden and down to Finland in ten days. In total we covered more than 2,200 kilometres. It was an unforgettable experience. Doing something for a good cause, makes you feel proud of what you are doing. Both the marathon and the life cycle need a lot of training and preparation. You have to be committed and dedicated. For the lifecycle you have to train for more hours. In fact because of work and other commitments, I used to train over eight hours during the night, going from Ċirkewwa to Marsaxlokk and back four or five times each time.

As for after-effects, how did the body react in the week after?

Four days after the marathon, my legs were still very stiff. I used to go for long walks and stretch twice daily for a whole week. By Friday I was tempted to go out for an easy jog but our coach advised otherwise so I had to wait for another four days. I was meant to do an easy 35 minute jog but unfortunately I had to stop after 15 minutes due to pain on the side of my left knee.

Finally, getting to the Sliema ferries, with the finishing line a few hundred metres away, how did the body and the soul react?

I reacted very well. I was lucky as I did not have cramps in the last 2KM. In fact I managed to increase my pace without any fatigue. In the last 500mtrs, I looked at my Garmin and realized that I could do it in under 3hrs 15m. I wanted to reach that target at all cost. When I reached the finish line, I was both relieved and satisfied. I felt like screaming ‘Yes I did it’.

The pre-marathon interview with Sam Attard can be found here.