3.39

The New York marathon is now behind me. It's been two weeks almost, and I still don't feel comfortable writing about how I felt running it and how I feel now. I am surprised at my own confusion and the need to sensor my own thoughts.

My first emotion crossing that finish line in Central Park was pride. I couldn't believe I actually ran the bloody thing -- the whole 26.2miles. Believe me, I thought about quitting every minute of the race after about mile 18. And I can't remember what kept me going in the end. I could pretend, and say cliche things like it was dedication, the heart, the endurance, the hard-hardheadedness that runs in the male part of my family.

I really can't decide on this: am I running these ridiculously long distances to prove something, above all to myself. Or am I running to catch up with the other me, and leave this me behind. Either way it seems that running is somehow related to me, to my psyche. It's certainly not for the health benefit that I'm kicking my ass every day. Doctors recommend 2.5 hours of exercise per week.

In New York I finished the race, but there were problems along the way. My stomach was off and it started to bother me at mile 13, and I had to make a shit-stop. At mile 24 I vomited. OK, I kept on running, but I wasn't enjoying it after my physical condition, which was all-mighty at the start of the race with Frank Sinatra's New York, New York blasting on the speakers, began to deteriorate.

I am a rather muscular guy for a runner. My bigger-than-usual body frame is from rugby. On top of it, rugby is a high-energy short-interval sport. The physical is allowed to dominate the mental. But marathoning is about attaining steady performance over time; the mind should be in charge.

So I already found the next fix-up: Beirut, November 30. My target this time is very different from what I did in New York. I don't want to run Beirut for time. I want to run it for balance, to the point where I feel the same (mentally) at mile 22 as i did at mile 2 -- just enjoying the run.

November 2

Some weeks ago, I decided to change my approach to this project. Hear me out. After running myself into the ground, literally, I figured it was time to reconsider my ambitious goal -- running an ultra-Balkan marathon. So I did, and concluded that I better take it one step at a time. This generally seems to be my issue, I often see the big picture but can underestimate the prep time that is needed to get there. So in a way, moving from ultra-marathon to marathon has been a major learning curve for me. And in the end, if this is all that comes out of my running experience, I'm glad I tried being a marathoner.

What next? Well, as you can see I'm not a man of small ambition. I decided to find a way to get into the New York marathon. I didn't have to look far. It was actually my wife that deserves all the credit for this. She got me a running chip -- for anyone familiar with the New York marathon getting in as a first time runner is nearly impossible.

The race is on November 4. All of you that are in the area, or want to travel up to New York to cheer me on or celebrate, reserve this date. Pao and I will throw a roof-deck marathon BBQ & Beer party right after. I not only feel excited by it, but frankly a bit frightened, too. If there is one marathon to run in this world, this is the one. Top class athletes and marathon stars will be there at the starting line, and me. I hope I can get to meet the new Olympic champion, Kenyan Samuel Wanjiru. What a star runner he is.

As I pulled back from ultra training to just training, I also dropped the daily mileage. I find it more bearable this way, and I'm back to enjoying my running. Except for when I get lost, as I did last Sunday in Brussels, in the Terkamerenbos Forest. The thing is massive. Google it. Once I finally found civilization I was 20KM away from Brussels, in the Flemish part of Belgium. Lucky for me, there was a train stop right there and the local line connecting to Etterbeek, so it was only a 10min run home. I managed to convince the train conductor to let me stay on as I had no money to buy the ticket. Such is life of a marathoner; you're either running away from something or to something, but either way, you're running. Not very profound, I know, but it's true.

I'm in Baku today. There is no marathon here. I wonder whether I could set one up. I should talk to the Minister of Culture and Sport about it. I'll do it once I run New York.