Proof that Clydesdales can run

You may recall from previous postings or from meeting me that I am not a svelte guy.  In fact, I don’t even remember the last time I was below 200 pounds (91 kilos).  I am currently hovering at 226 pounds (103 kilos) which I suspect is my fighting weight.  All of the effort in training, diet, etc. has not caused the scale to budge one iota.

The reason I bring this to light is because I am also not a natural runner.  I am an over-glorified slogger.  You know what I mean; plod along at a slow and steady pace, just like a Clydesdale horse.  I have always been impressed by those creatures; big, beautiful, powerful, and normally hauling a large wagon full of Budweiser beer.  Those are at least the most famous Clydesdales that I know of; can’t think of any others.
The day started with it being a very typical cold, overcast, and rainy Dutch day.  I started the day by waking at 0700 for a cup of coffee and a light breakfast of a well-balanced bowl of muesli and milk.  All the articles I had read said to have something for breakfast about three hours before the race and that was pretty much the only thing in the house.  Luckily I had laid out all of my kit the night before, so dressing in the dark wasn’t a problem.  There were no last minute preparations or additions to the pack I had decided to carry throughout the race.  I figured I should start getting used to running with a pack on during something other than training.  My partially rehabbed, broken shoulder didn’t really have much to say.  Then again, I wasn’t listening.

One tram, then one train later and I was at the Leiden Central train station and things started to get a bit more interesting.  You could start to feel the pulse of any large event as more and more people began milling about in matching track suits.  I met up with a friend who is also training for her first half marathon in October, so I had someone to share my excitement with and to also help document the day’s events.  As always, you can’t get through these events without the support of others.  Thanks Michelle!!

The race as I remember it went something like this:

• find a bathroom
• warm up and stretch very cold and wet muscles
• pee again
• head to start line and find a spot
• pee again (OK, I was a bit nervous)
• race start with LOTS of fanfare from the locals, all in Dutch
• first 10K in a time of 57:11 (personal best)
• 12K marker- start to feel the pinch of two developing blisters
• stop and check shoes and adjust socks.
• 13K- no resolution, must keep going.
• asked spectator at roadside if he had an extra beer (he didn’t)
• 14K thru 18K- don’t remember a thing except the pain
• 18K- I can do another kilometre
• 19K- I can do another kilometre
• 20K- I better do another kilometre
• with 800 meters to go, stopped and “borrowed” a sip of a fine chardonnay from bystander who was cheering me on
• 700 metres- ouch, ouch and more ouch
• 500 metres- feeling the finish and it feels good
• 200 metres- honked at by timing car for the lead marathon racer from Kenya (of course)
• 100 metres- I AM NOT GETTING LAPPED
• FINISH- hands above head, screaming my fool head off, I think I may have even shed a tear (could have been sweat too)
• FREE Amstel beer at the finish (not kidding)

All in all, a great experience.  Had I known there was free beer at the finish I think I could have broken the two hour mark (Note to Primal Quest staff- free beer is GOOD!).  I guess I have something to look forward to next year.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, May 19th, 2009 at 1:02 pm and is filed under Primal Quest. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Responses are currently closed, but you can trackback from your own site.