Saturday's run came and went.
It was a breezy night in Montevideo, Uruguay, about 19 degrees and we had the pleasure of running up and down the coast.
Earlier on in the day, walking around the town, I had noted to my partner "If this wind continues, tonight is going to be a disaster."
Amongst a sea of florescent orange race shirts, I stretched, completed some plyometrics, and within 15 minutes of arrival, the shot fired to set off. The shot was a little bit scary. The Uruguayan military was responsible for it and somehow there was smoke and what sounded like a loud explosion. It was interesting to see people's bouncy beginning of the race energy drop in 2 seconds, stone faced, confused, and then swing back 30 seconds later once they realized it was just the gunfire to let us know the race had started.
As we moved along the coast hugging the shoreline, I thought, this isn't that bad. I started off slow but passed the 2:00 pacer quickly, aiming to keep the 1:50 pacer in sight throughout the course of the race. Around 2 km in, I saw a group of super runners already coming back. Wow! I thought and simultaneously, picked up my pace.. Later on, I then realized that those were the 5 km runners. Thank Goodness. I sighed, letting the guilt of running slower pass over me.
All at once, we arrived quite quickly at the turnaround point for the 5km. I picked up my pace, enjoying the extra push the wind was giving me. A few old wise men looked at me skeptically "Bueno. Necesito hacerlo cuando puedo, porque cuando volvemos vamos a mourir." They laughed a little bit but maintained their pace, solid and strong.
Soon, I was sprinting up the hill, and coasting past the start of the race, the 10 km mark. Pablo on Andres' shoulders stepped out into the street waving me down and cheering me on. Super special.
As I ran the next 5 km, I took advantage of the grass median in the middle of the road, jumping up on it and completely adoring the fact that there was lush, soft grass to cushion my knees, hipbone, feet after cruising on solid concrete for the last 10 km. A little bit of trail running goes a long way and I was feeling okay, even though that 5 km still seemed to take forever.
Finally, we turned around uneventfully in a man-made turn in the middle of the road, and all of the sudden, I felt a giant force. Pushing me back like I have never experienced before in my life, the wind drew out it's big hand and pushed against me as I tried to move forward. I continued on, dredding the fact that this was starting at 15 km and there were 6 more km to go.
As I swayed in and out of the grass median, the only thing making it a little easier, and tucked my head in to push through the wind, I passed a number of people struggling immensely. Being a runner, part of our job is to pick one another up, and as I hit the 17 km mark, I continued with a girl for a km until she said to me "Aqui, no puedo mas."
At 19, I had almost had it and started to slow down, only 2 seconds later to be swept up by a lovely Venezuelan man who said "No! No! No!" and forced me to keep running until the end. With him and the 2 hour pacer on my tail, I finished just under 2 hours at 1:59:44.
It was a breezy night in Montevideo, Uruguay, about 19 degrees and we had the pleasure of running up and down the coast.
Earlier on in the day, walking around the town, I had noted to my partner "If this wind continues, tonight is going to be a disaster."
Amongst a sea of florescent orange race shirts, I stretched, completed some plyometrics, and within 15 minutes of arrival, the shot fired to set off. The shot was a little bit scary. The Uruguayan military was responsible for it and somehow there was smoke and what sounded like a loud explosion. It was interesting to see people's bouncy beginning of the race energy drop in 2 seconds, stone faced, confused, and then swing back 30 seconds later once they realized it was just the gunfire to let us know the race had started.
As we moved along the coast hugging the shoreline, I thought, this isn't that bad. I started off slow but passed the 2:00 pacer quickly, aiming to keep the 1:50 pacer in sight throughout the course of the race. Around 2 km in, I saw a group of super runners already coming back. Wow! I thought and simultaneously, picked up my pace.. Later on, I then realized that those were the 5 km runners. Thank Goodness. I sighed, letting the guilt of running slower pass over me.
All at once, we arrived quite quickly at the turnaround point for the 5km. I picked up my pace, enjoying the extra push the wind was giving me. A few old wise men looked at me skeptically "Bueno. Necesito hacerlo cuando puedo, porque cuando volvemos vamos a mourir." They laughed a little bit but maintained their pace, solid and strong.
Soon, I was sprinting up the hill, and coasting past the start of the race, the 10 km mark. Pablo on Andres' shoulders stepped out into the street waving me down and cheering me on. Super special.
As I ran the next 5 km, I took advantage of the grass median in the middle of the road, jumping up on it and completely adoring the fact that there was lush, soft grass to cushion my knees, hipbone, feet after cruising on solid concrete for the last 10 km. A little bit of trail running goes a long way and I was feeling okay, even though that 5 km still seemed to take forever.
Finally, we turned around uneventfully in a man-made turn in the middle of the road, and all of the sudden, I felt a giant force. Pushing me back like I have never experienced before in my life, the wind drew out it's big hand and pushed against me as I tried to move forward. I continued on, dredding the fact that this was starting at 15 km and there were 6 more km to go.
As I swayed in and out of the grass median, the only thing making it a little easier, and tucked my head in to push through the wind, I passed a number of people struggling immensely. Being a runner, part of our job is to pick one another up, and as I hit the 17 km mark, I continued with a girl for a km until she said to me "Aqui, no puedo mas."
At 19, I had almost had it and started to slow down, only 2 seconds later to be swept up by a lovely Venezuelan man who said "No! No! No!" and forced me to keep running until the end. With him and the 2 hour pacer on my tail, I finished just under 2 hours at 1:59:44.
Isn't it crazy how, even when we set a goal for ourselves we can be swayed by what others are doing? That's some serious wind! Glad you made it.
ReplyDelete