tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10667734829876210042024-02-18T19:57:54.732-08:00Frankly RunnerFranks blog on running and other existential matters of life.Frank D'hondthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637163192825970380noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1066773482987621004.post-68942880651818767492018-01-09T14:02:00.001-08:002018-01-09T14:12:47.217-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: 48pt; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #323e4f; font-family: "calibri";">Arrhythmic
Running </span></span></h1>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 24pt; margin: 0px;">Running in
Times of Despair and Hope</span></i></b></div>
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<span style="color: #44546a; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: x-small;"><i>Figure <span style="margin: 0px;">1</span>a/b Running
along Willamette River in Portland/Oregon – a city with a high ‘runnability
index’ and my </i><i>daughter Xenia pointing at a ‘heart’ mural in downtown Athens</i></span></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYfqrgl7dUsmiO7QazNWtjP4VzEMtNMSN3g-EBpBxkaHLg6e8vOv3jlf1EXqTlW253iUc6anItMDTycsE5ZkXYy88YxNyk7iLvFlVQ3nHkdWgPVzJdAqfZLUPwrr0k-28LpBoUVq5FJBQ/s1600/Portland+run.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; clear: right; color: #0066cc; float: right; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYfqrgl7dUsmiO7QazNWtjP4VzEMtNMSN3g-EBpBxkaHLg6e8vOv3jlf1EXqTlW253iUc6anItMDTycsE5ZkXYy88YxNyk7iLvFlVQ3nHkdWgPVzJdAqfZLUPwrr0k-28LpBoUVq5FJBQ/s1600/Portland+run.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsUqFIAXj6m44J1LQcEJIqNhsHR8_Qdeh39_a_lmvqonsbBWgb_gCQg3ZFRPzi-74B14dxMaOrQ5F-sbFJeKHGa4KWiZYDip6nzwH_2g4jJRBsE5WdDNB7Tz7yEVwlE-qqd8CpIbWivxw/s1600/Heart+mural.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: transparent; clear: left; color: #0066cc; float: left; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1216" data-original-width="896" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsUqFIAXj6m44J1LQcEJIqNhsHR8_Qdeh39_a_lmvqonsbBWgb_gCQg3ZFRPzi-74B14dxMaOrQ5F-sbFJeKHGa4KWiZYDip6nzwH_2g4jJRBsE5WdDNB7Tz7yEVwlE-qqd8CpIbWivxw/s320/Heart+mural.jpg" width="232" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsUqFIAXj6m44J1LQcEJIqNhsHR8_Qdeh39_a_lmvqonsbBWgb_gCQg3ZFRPzi-74B14dxMaOrQ5F-sbFJeKHGa4KWiZYDip6nzwH_2g4jJRBsE5WdDNB7Tz7yEVwlE-qqd8CpIbWivxw/s1600/Heart+mural.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: transparent; clear: right; color: #0066cc; float: right; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></a><span style="font-family: "calibri";">My last running blog goes back to the running events in Afghanistan,
while advising the government on urban planning issues for Kabul, its capital
metropolis. This was end 2015. Since then I did not engage in competitive
racing anymore, so I thought there was nothing to share and to inspire.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>People only take inspiration from winners and
good mood stories I thought, knowing deep inside it’s not entirely true. The
truth is that I simply did not have the courage to accept life-changes that busted
the running bubble I was inhabiting for the last decade, since I started
running back in 2005. Since my first marathon in Radenska/Slovenia in 2007, my
running and overall fitness performance curve remained in the uphill mode with
some hard-fought achievements on the marathon and ultra-marathon distances -
until you realise you can’t keep up the appearances anymore.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Main reason: <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">the last
two years my heart was seriously beaten up</b>. - By the ‘election’ of Trump of
course, and seeing this real-estate mogul trampling the constitution and
international conventions, as well repealing the few progressive civil right legacies
of the Obama administration. – By the downfall of social-democracy and reason in
Europe, my home-continent. – By EU’s financial failures in general and the ‘financial
waterboarding’ of my home-country Greece in particular – a testing ground for
‘hyper-austerity’ as Yannis Varofakis accurately framed it. – By the rapid
environmental degradation of the blue planet and its protective shield,
jeopardising future generations and the invaluable biodiversity. – By religious 'fanatism' of all kinds spreading as a cancer throughout humanity, trampling the
merits of science and common sense. But in all honesty – at a personal level –
most by some family and health kickbacks, including the death of my father
(albeit in a very peaceful and remarkable way); a permanently mutilated
shoulder (thanks to an unfriendly encounter with a brainless driver in my
home-city Athens, parking his car on the pavement I was running); permanent ear
damage or tinnitus (thanks to a popping ear during one of my long-haul flights
to China last year) and last but not least Arrhythmia or Atrial Fibrillation
(AFib<span style="margin: 0px; text-transform: uppercase;">) </span>of the heart.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif9kGj_uITVLeymyd96lT9BwarDmcVs6WCLU6_xkzIDaMEtNoUiElXOxqlWAwbfUPXWUDbE6llm_KXqQMzc6CApxGM9hZBEuGvYpik29wNNMDZfoXERb0VEgnL3NjyBkYu6zmNqrFHhfo/s1600/AFib.png" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; clear: left; color: #0066cc; float: left; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="337" data-original-width="585" height="184" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif9kGj_uITVLeymyd96lT9BwarDmcVs6WCLU6_xkzIDaMEtNoUiElXOxqlWAwbfUPXWUDbE6llm_KXqQMzc6CApxGM9hZBEuGvYpik29wNNMDZfoXERb0VEgnL3NjyBkYu6zmNqrFHhfo/s320/AFib.png" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "calibri";">This ‘heart-injury’ - a runners most important muscle - was first
diagnosed in highly polluted and overstressed Kabul/Afghanistan after the last
races I reported on. The arrhythmic beating of the heart goes with an overall
higher pulse - beating up my heart literally to a point that stripped my
running abilities to jogging level – something I thought I would never
surrender to.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>My heart doctor advised
not to run/walk more than 5-10k! After a period of denial, I just had to settle
for a more sporadic and non-competitive jogging life, joining the growing
league of ‘young AFib-ers’ that might be co-induced by intensive sporting. My
decade-old mantra ‘Run to Live’ needed a humiliating but life-saving update:
‘Jog to Live’.</span></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO10yoiVhKvr98A7-KVFGgMJns3hlaTO6ggGLby5JkM54UIUn5wTLWpV9X6jFXS23JhaxvyXc_0j-ImdZw9ucFJsRhEEuAZqyt54uoVs2EEv1QVDWuhFU-UkQ1hszFhOujQzaGmJZutRE/s1600/Slow+Run.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO10yoiVhKvr98A7-KVFGgMJns3hlaTO6ggGLby5JkM54UIUn5wTLWpV9X6jFXS23JhaxvyXc_0j-ImdZw9ucFJsRhEEuAZqyt54uoVs2EEv1QVDWuhFU-UkQ1hszFhOujQzaGmJZutRE/s1600/Slow+Run.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="336" data-original-width="639" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO10yoiVhKvr98A7-KVFGgMJns3hlaTO6ggGLby5JkM54UIUn5wTLWpV9X6jFXS23JhaxvyXc_0j-ImdZw9ucFJsRhEEuAZqyt54uoVs2EEv1QVDWuhFU-UkQ1hszFhOujQzaGmJZutRE/s400/Slow+Run.jpg" width="400" /></a><span style="font-family: "calibri";">But there was also <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">excitement</b>
the past two years. - Excitement to draft a global handbook on the application
of the International Planning Guidelines (tampered by the uncertainty of
publication). - Excitement to experience the birth of a first and healthy
granddaughter (tampered by the realisation of my own ageing). – Excitement to
see my youngest daughter ‘graduating’ from pre-school followed by entering the first
grade in the local municipal school (tampered by worries about the educational
downfall in Greece). – Excitement to spend more time with my lovely spouse and
daughter at home in Athens (tampered by the degradation of street-life-quality
in our neighbourhood). – Excitement to transform our flat roof into a green
paradise enjoyed by many friends and family members. – Excitement to host my
son and his girlfriend, my sister and her husband, and finally my widow mom, sharing
my preferred city gems with them in Athens and Attica region. – Excitement to
undertake some new professional adventures by travelling and advising countries
from China over the Arabian Peninsula and Africa to the Caribbean and the USA,
ending 2016 with the active participation in the Habitat III Summit in Quito/Ecuador
and ending 2017 with a keynote lecture at the Balkan Architectural Biennial in
Belgrade - and winning an award for work done in Wuhan/China (overall tampered
by a downfall in income and job security as free-lance consultant). – And even
excitement to watch Trevor Noah, Stephen Colbert, John Oliver and the likes
testing the first amendment of free speech against Orange Hitler in the White
(Nationalist) House.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>But in all honesty
again – at a personal level – the greatest excitement of all was the successful
ablation (operation) of my heart, by forcibly restoring the rhythmic and low
pulse beating of the heart. While a first electro-shock intervention early last
year failed, a more serious ablation was executed during the summer, complemented
by a medication regime to keep the heart in check – so far so good.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgifo1M0u0CBPkwMyip0vL6kxZvyTSUf14zARMm2sGeRfbiIIQvJzv2Q_VZOY0TF0w-tNA-itmi4Mu27mFv2AiyNvp4boRqxWVHbbXI44pNtCL4eq93Wj_xxxoY8ARlXu_3I3-ojwe-RP8/s1600/Summit+Pichu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: transparent; color: #0066cc; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1058" data-original-width="1411" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgifo1M0u0CBPkwMyip0vL6kxZvyTSUf14zARMm2sGeRfbiIIQvJzv2Q_VZOY0TF0w-tNA-itmi4Mu27mFv2AiyNvp4boRqxWVHbbXI44pNtCL4eq93Wj_xxxoY8ARlXu_3I3-ojwe-RP8/s320/Summit+Pichu.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Ak-TrHSxNoX-a9b2md6vIJfXHTk-huPt4SE4GTAuNVbCKCjDebwucfW1wtFjo9ibS1KROxRkhGBq_d2gS4kcCTbFDvAq5I9h-N2q4lme3VgbKcAPTMeu0x5OJ1MWOpgXzJPlv5A99e8/s1600/Ascent+Pichu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; clear: right; color: #0066cc; float: right; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 16px; margin-left: 16px; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Ak-TrHSxNoX-a9b2md6vIJfXHTk-huPt4SE4GTAuNVbCKCjDebwucfW1wtFjo9ibS1KROxRkhGBq_d2gS4kcCTbFDvAq5I9h-N2q4lme3VgbKcAPTMeu0x5OJ1MWOpgXzJPlv5A99e8/s1600/Ascent+Pichu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgifo1M0u0CBPkwMyip0vL6kxZvyTSUf14zARMm2sGeRfbiIIQvJzv2Q_VZOY0TF0w-tNA-itmi4Mu27mFv2AiyNvp4boRqxWVHbbXI44pNtCL4eq93Wj_xxxoY8ARlXu_3I3-ojwe-RP8/s1600/Summit+Pichu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><span style="color: #44546a; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: x-small;"><i>Figure <span style="margin: 0px;">2</span>a/b<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Hiking
up Pinchincha Mountain in Quito in Afib-mode, grasping for air /<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Reaching Pinchincha peak at 4,700m altitud</i><i>e
before 'running' back downhill</i></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Did I really abstain from running altogether since the
diagnosis of Afib/Arrhythmia? Of course not. In 2016, against my doctors
advise, my longest running race was the Athens Classic Marathon, albeit in
walk/run mode and finishing in a time just under 5 hours, 2 hours slower than
my best time on that course in 2009. But given the difficulty of running with
elevated heart pulse (up to 200 bpm at low running speeds), it felt like a
victory of mind over heart. Apart from this ‘major race’ I only engaged in the
Chios Half Marathon in 2016 – further reduced to the Chios 10k in 2017. During
Afib I could not run any hill, do any interval workout or even run non-stop for
much longer than 5k, especially under hot/humid weather conditions. Not easy
for a guy who ran a sub-3-hour marathon and a 180km non-stop mountain race in
20 hours-some. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwhsdj4caRhsIXsYmVYau3DuF13NaDgawztw21QblXT5N232mlSHUNV3Ps4sAxX7U2utllhJgrKGltdqKlY8wPlcalf_0kqNjQZIk8F01Ud5gZgDwbJ7NgNsrxzIOQMmcPtdQlYvt_zjU/s1600/ACM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="894" data-original-width="1193" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwhsdj4caRhsIXsYmVYau3DuF13NaDgawztw21QblXT5N232mlSHUNV3Ps4sAxX7U2utllhJgrKGltdqKlY8wPlcalf_0kqNjQZIk8F01Ud5gZgDwbJ7NgNsrxzIOQMmcPtdQlYvt_zjU/s320/ACM.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOYUiycCax3ucJ9jtG3fcOgqHAARy0jFWtXGxE3ti2o86OTv_Olo03g3gsJaNHjxBRAvol2yud-Veyiy45azj4MHuXrmTaVrJvuYTlOYS4vmmi6U3aeJuarZTC2lCaARrcruA4RDos_Zg/s1600/Chios.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: #0066cc; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-left: 16px; margin-right: 16px; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="782" data-original-width="1021" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOYUiycCax3ucJ9jtG3fcOgqHAARy0jFWtXGxE3ti2o86OTv_Olo03g3gsJaNHjxBRAvol2yud-Veyiy45azj4MHuXrmTaVrJvuYTlOYS4vmmi6U3aeJuarZTC2lCaARrcruA4RDos_Zg/s200/Chios.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="200" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1066773482987621004" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1066773482987621004" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1066773482987621004" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1066773482987621004" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
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<span style="margin: 0px;"></span></div>
<i><span style="color: #44546a; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: x-small;">Figure <span style="margin: 0px;">3</span>a/b
Finishing my 7th Athens Classic Marathon 2016 - in Afib mode (walk/run) - my
last marathon-medal? / Running the 21k and 10k races on Chios Island in
respectively 2016 and 2017</span></i><br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYJsipc4k-paTb1INxDneTHM4C-zcpTsA9620LwJSS094l84SSRDZpEOSUDrPfo6RXLMFpbIcGCY5b2fvkNKAtRK-8Fqd4ibazqSgM64y24Rbi0CcwJuQMPWKtsdzcVWtaki-JA81daFk/s1600/Tehran.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1052" data-original-width="1403" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYJsipc4k-paTb1INxDneTHM4C-zcpTsA9620LwJSS094l84SSRDZpEOSUDrPfo6RXLMFpbIcGCY5b2fvkNKAtRK-8Fqd4ibazqSgM64y24Rbi0CcwJuQMPWKtsdzcVWtaki-JA81daFk/s400/Tehran.jpg" width="400" /></a><span style="font-family: "calibri";">A memorable moment though during the Afib period occurred
during a city run in Tehran/Iran, while attending a conference as ambassador of
ISOCARP (International Society of City and Regional Planners). When cresting a
hill in a nearby park, struggling to sustain the running mode, I suddenly felt
a surge and flew up the mountain and all the way back to my hotel. After
measuring my pulse, I realised I had relapsed into ‘rhythmia’ and out of Afib,
in a natural way. Some days later however, while cresting a longer and higher
hill back home, I relapsed back into Afib and felt like Icarus as he approached
the sun with his waxed wings and fell back to earth. My joy was short-lived. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">And yet, I kept on running whenever and wherever possible.
Often more out of fear or remorse for the expanding waistline than out of pure
joy as previously experienced – the ‘runners-high’ was on a record low these
days! </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">After my last successful races in Afghanistan, a second
place in the Bamyan Marathon and a first place in the Kabul 24h Marathon (in a
multi-storey building!), I ran or jogged – I consider running at speeds of
10k/h and more - much shorter distances in all places I have travelled and
lived since then: Dubai, Nairobi, Kenya’s Rift Valley, Minsk, Antwerp, Durban,
Wuhan, Bogota, Quito, Athens, Willemstad, St Lucia, Kingstown, Chios, Shanghai,
Abu Dhabi, Portland and Belgrade. I ran with heath, rain and frost. I ran until
I had to walk and walked until I could run again, with average speeds below
10k/h, so technically no running at all. Through social media, I kept following
my running friends their enduring and inspiring races and achievements, with a
mix of admiration and jealousy. There were days I was in peace with the Afib
state of running; overruled on other days with anger and disillusion. </span></div>
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<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">This thus changed with the successful ablation of my heart
in an Athens private hospital, taking the risk of a substantial out-of-pocket financial
investment. The intervention lasted some hours and resulted in burning/freezing
‘tattoos’ around the synapses of the heart, to deflect the ‘bad’ electrical
signals causing the arrhythmia (and also ‘heart flutter’ as they discovered
during the operation). The operation was declared technically successful, but
it remained to be seen if the heart would stay into rhythm of relapse into Afib
again. Daily medication for the next 6-12 months should support the status quo,
with the side effect of reducing my VO2 Max or lactate threshold – practically
capping my pulse in the medium range.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRw5PBD4bfUnugo1nJ9vbud0zHo8VAZhH3eKdMmUAU9tH072KdsOOC5CWOmYop7pDB9_x9zyeoaHKKZ565tDN2vnbx1xT2TZ8XD8k2KF2Eq_H05-5D164jWLWmguBsMfDmUvj1Xzc-Hrc/s1600/Ablation1.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="478" data-original-width="693" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRw5PBD4bfUnugo1nJ9vbud0zHo8VAZhH3eKdMmUAU9tH072KdsOOC5CWOmYop7pDB9_x9zyeoaHKKZ565tDN2vnbx1xT2TZ8XD8k2KF2Eq_H05-5D164jWLWmguBsMfDmUvj1Xzc-Hrc/s320/Ablation1.png" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpaigBAHiKzm2AW1eUGWF258FcEDhxef9bbT7636HOxY3_S0sZS3v2U7iDVWn67xkazz93l-Qa8QBpQzTzvhETK02BWszCA05CjTOFoyQurhWZdx3p9nqyPL5EaWTywW97zPiAV73mgLI/s1600/Ablation2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: #0066cc; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-left: 16px; margin-right: 16px; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="305" data-original-width="406" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpaigBAHiKzm2AW1eUGWF258FcEDhxef9bbT7636HOxY3_S0sZS3v2U7iDVWn67xkazz93l-Qa8QBpQzTzvhETK02BWszCA05CjTOFoyQurhWZdx3p9nqyPL5EaWTywW97zPiAV73mgLI/s200/Ablation2.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="200" /></a></div>
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<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<i><span style="color: #44546a; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: x-small;">Figure <span style="margin: 0px;">5</span>a/b
Successful heart ablation in Athens hospital in June 2017</span></i></div>
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<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">This ablation happened in July 2017 and now we are 6 months
further down the line and so far, so good. After a recovery period of a month I
started rebuilding my lost running fitness on the island of Chios, a wonderful
place to run, bike and swim, culminating in finishing the local 10k race in
less than 60’, meaning it was a run and not a jog! A small but meaningful
achievement. Upon my doctor’s recommendation I kept running distances and
speeds at bay, not to provoke a relapse into the fold. Yet I could finally
enjoy running again and go out more often. Without pushing too hard, I could
finish a second 10k race, here in Athens, in 53’. Slow compared to my best-time
of 38’ but better than in Chios and a PR since Afib-diagnosis. Even more
glorious was crossing that finish line in the Agios Kosmas Stadium together
with my youngest daughter Xenia, who earned her very first 2k race medal at age
6. Xenia is training 4 times/week – two days running and two days gymnastics – passing
the baton to the next generation. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmJy1JsOvSTBoITQUjmOR9ef16g1tFXSBrEeWJko047Bc6KwWS_Wccz252SN0wYeWcS_B5pg7yvjfTW3MiITnVvv3FLZY2Dsgb1a6P68z9DXZI9h3Fa4KkbTIQA1v5PNwUdndO0Uu4Hv0/s1600/Kosmas1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="599" data-original-width="346" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmJy1JsOvSTBoITQUjmOR9ef16g1tFXSBrEeWJko047Bc6KwWS_Wccz252SN0wYeWcS_B5pg7yvjfTW3MiITnVvv3FLZY2Dsgb1a6P68z9DXZI9h3Fa4KkbTIQA1v5PNwUdndO0Uu4Hv0/s320/Kosmas1.jpg" width="184" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE0WiOSXh2jkaC0cAFwTexWgo13bSGiOhc2z5Yb6F0-FP8gpohb1jBnJzrC2BlghDyS6qv46VRm2Gy2ZLYpzrxPdYeapAgmdvGWqLo0YSnlK4gR_rFN6UOkH99wLTHIowjmyB7GgcKY7k/s1600/Kosmas2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; clear: none; color: #0066cc; float: none; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 16px; margin-right: 16px; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="694" data-original-width="460" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE0WiOSXh2jkaC0cAFwTexWgo13bSGiOhc2z5Yb6F0-FP8gpohb1jBnJzrC2BlghDyS6qv46VRm2Gy2ZLYpzrxPdYeapAgmdvGWqLo0YSnlK4gR_rFN6UOkH99wLTHIowjmyB7GgcKY7k/s320/Kosmas2.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="211" /></a></div>
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</div>
<br />
<i><span style="color: #44546a; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: x-small;">Figure <span style="margin: 0px;">6</span>a/b
Finishing the Athens/Kosmas 10k race and crossing the line with daughter Xenia
- November 2017</span></i><br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Of the non-competitive training runs since the heart
ablation – and apart from the aforementioned runs in Tehran and Chios, four
stand out in this difficult period - Glyfada, Portland, Belgrade and Chortiatis/Thessaloniki.
</span></div>
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<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqPlWCk8COjbU_EDubVcOBhImPJ0mAji8PpSBrLrUQqli2xg5C4J5u3xOhjVgM1yaAbre0DiHZIXmC8Dt6HQ5awI4ZL6g8jjoAXa_OwHdE5-LYtcGQz9ZETc_R1F9Xnfsno_8tTVbu_Zc/s1600/Cordoba.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqPlWCk8COjbU_EDubVcOBhImPJ0mAji8PpSBrLrUQqli2xg5C4J5u3xOhjVgM1yaAbre0DiHZIXmC8Dt6HQ5awI4ZL6g8jjoAXa_OwHdE5-LYtcGQz9ZETc_R1F9Xnfsno_8tTVbu_Zc/s320/Cordoba.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>In Glyfada, my
home-city in the Athens metropolis, I ran countless runs but the one with
Martin Cordoba stands out because it brought back the special memories to the
Spartathlon race, possibly the most enduring foot-race on this globe. I attempted
twice to cover the 246k-long race from Athens to Sparta, but failed – mainly
due my inability to run with heath. It was a watershed-race in the sense I
finally found my limit, something my body could not digest. Of course, I could
have tried again and again, but instead I accepted the red line, maybe because
my heart was already sending coded messages, who knows. The day before the 2017
edition of the Spartathlon, I caught up with age- and soulmate Martin Cordoba,
a passionate ultrarunner from Argentine, who achieved two completed races out
of five attempts. This was his sixth participation and eager to get the balance
right. He accepted my invitation for a last training run the day before the
great day. We ran 10k and I hardly noticed the time or distance while talking
the way ultra-runners do: about everything and nothing. To my great amusement
and admiration, two days later, Martin crossed the finish line for the third
time. I ran the entire distance on his side in the virtual world. </span></div>
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<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoYXcOPVW7kUPRfQDMrmns53g3_n7L_ziOpnEXAxa3tsrMToT_3IYnaLoNKW0ZtcEGXijqwDgWtG29ZKvJd6guAtwisriBuuT3KtxTDv46U8lSlwtCcJWj8WuHSSUUuIi3A8tUY4GOND8/s1600/Portland2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="405" data-original-width="720" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoYXcOPVW7kUPRfQDMrmns53g3_n7L_ziOpnEXAxa3tsrMToT_3IYnaLoNKW0ZtcEGXijqwDgWtG29ZKvJd6guAtwisriBuuT3KtxTDv46U8lSlwtCcJWj8WuHSSUUuIi3A8tUY4GOND8/s320/Portland2.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "calibri";">In Oregon Portland (USA), while attending the World Congress
of ISOCARP on ‘Smart Communities’ last Septem,ber, I enjoyed a 20k run with a
Canadian and Polish friend/partner in crime. We ran at dawn with crisp air and
blue skies along both sides of the Willamette river that runs through
Oregon/Portland. Despite being seriously undertrained and overweight I felt
like running in my better days, finishing fresh and ready for a long day of
speeches and events. With Michael and Slavek I also share a passion for
comparing runnable cities and writing about it. With Michael I co-authored an article
on Running Wuhan, soon to be published in a magazine. Running with running
soulmates is great and running with professional running soulmates is a real
blessing. Portland proved to be a quite runnable city, making the transition
from car- to people-centric city I would like to see happen one day in my home
town Athens – currently a sacred place for motorized four- and two-wheelers.
Running in Portland reminded me of my Boston Marathon – the year of the
pressure-cook-attack – and the joyful training and recovery runs along the
Charles river. Runnable cities are just great for everyone!</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">In Belgrade, where I attended the Balkan Architectural
Biennale, I had the chance to run along the Sava and Danube river, from and to
the old city district, through the famous Kalemegdan city park with its
medieval fortress. But most of all I was thrilled by a train run in the
metropolitan forest park just outside the core-city. On a crispy Saturday
morning I joined the Belgrade Runners Club to run a 10k loop in the muddy
forest, ending 3<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">rd</span></sup> place in a competitive training run. The 3<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">rd</span></sup>
place is in this case totally irrelevant but being able to maintain a certain
pace on the uphill’s is no less than a great feeling since the heart ablation. Also,
the spirit among the Belgrade runners, in a society drained by socio-economic
downfall and backward nationalism, was more than heart-warming and promising
for the future of this beaten up Balkan city.<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>If both Belgrade and Athens, the two main Balkan cities could learn from
e.g. Portland how to turn down toxic cigarettes and cars, I would be glad to ad
a Balkan tier to my already multi-layered identity. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVZWXf3CZqnnfZiPpPj3K_2qsUmvMdak5BNsxfpK-BTf7wZ-DhDLYKv8tT2RAvOOkeSrhAimSa1AKrGlVAStnfFAdyhPOU7jFhmQu38aQjrVymVqZECYzE4CbSpX-GrFFLhcrcQxpELrs/s1600/Belgrade2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="814" data-original-width="1084" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVZWXf3CZqnnfZiPpPj3K_2qsUmvMdak5BNsxfpK-BTf7wZ-DhDLYKv8tT2RAvOOkeSrhAimSa1AKrGlVAStnfFAdyhPOU7jFhmQu38aQjrVymVqZECYzE4CbSpX-GrFFLhcrcQxpELrs/s320/Belgrade2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<i><span style="color: #44546a; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: x-small;">Figure <span style="margin: 0px;">8</span>a/b Running
in Belgrade's Kalemegdan Park at the bifircation of Sava and Danube / Finishing
3rd in a training run of the Belgrade Road Runners in Topcider City Forest,
making Belgrade a decently runnable city</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Of cigarettes and cars I did not suffer on my last run of
last year, a 35k hike/run from the valley to the peak of Chortiatis Mountain
northeast of Thessaloniki, Greece’s second largest city. The day before I
seduced my spouse to undertake a 16k reconnaissance hike to the refuge just
under the peak, rewarded by a great meal around the fireplace. The next day I doubled
the distance in a walking and running mode, not to trigger a relapse I would
definitely regret, with blue skies and a caressing sun, awarded by a superb
mountain view overlooking Thessaloniki city and bay all the way up to the sacred
Olympus Mountain, which I have crested and raced multiple times. I arrived back
in the valley at the time of a sunset combined with a rising orange supermoon –
magic and a happy end of my longest walk/run of 2017. Two days later, I started
the new running year with a beautiful 12k run at Volvi lake, at the base of
Chortiatis mountain, rewarded by a rejuvenating thermal spa-treatment in
Apollonia. The new year could not start better. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbnQ2Me2F5QUigqikzkOXTPOUPyilGFjcbChinOiK1Brx2bRhyphenhyphenTpP7pN7oNAYFkU7M81-jX7zm2vJTwSLZDyqiRN0aaVBMlmUc2t1EXfq7hRBB52PvAljZtorCYHPBJekRnqmQmaUMiSY/s1600/Chortiatis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="285" data-original-width="424" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbnQ2Me2F5QUigqikzkOXTPOUPyilGFjcbChinOiK1Brx2bRhyphenhyphenTpP7pN7oNAYFkU7M81-jX7zm2vJTwSLZDyqiRN0aaVBMlmUc2t1EXfq7hRBB52PvAljZtorCYHPBJekRnqmQmaUMiSY/s320/Chortiatis.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIFB5d7fbVMb8exQMx5SOywQe1bK5YTqcXAFGa5JHpIoZNHOIp0mCxldoh0HeP9cMvrmy79InsrnfEfxNJHsH8mog5QllYxUKkxLE_FrbrREtlLgfiaVfJa5-7eTNnZ5iIZZdciIh1yHA/s1600/Volvi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIFB5d7fbVMb8exQMx5SOywQe1bK5YTqcXAFGa5JHpIoZNHOIp0mCxldoh0HeP9cMvrmy79InsrnfEfxNJHsH8mog5QllYxUKkxLE_FrbrREtlLgfiaVfJa5-7eTNnZ5iIZZdciIh1yHA/s320/Volvi.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<i><span style="color: #44546a; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: x-small;">Figure <span style="margin: 0px;">9</span>a/b
Hiking/running on Chortiatis Mountain (with my spouse Maria) and along the
shores of Volvi lake nearby Thessaloniki in northern Greece</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">So, on a final note I could say ‘we’re back on track’,
albeit in some different modus. I am saddened by the realisation there is no
way back to the previous level and running life, not of racing my beloved
marathons let alone ultra’s, but its good and important to set new goals and
ambitions within my healthy perimeter. As I long as I can run, I exists. What
will 2018 bring? We don’t know but it helps to be ready and open-minded to seize
opportunities within reach. Meanwhile, let’s hope all the world problems will
be solved in 2018. Have a good year too!</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Frankly Runner</span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><span style="font-family: "calibri";"></span></div>
Frank D'hondthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637163192825970380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1066773482987621004.post-83774635706948100682015-11-23T07:05:00.000-08:002015-11-23T08:27:30.136-08:0024 hour Race Kabul<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Running around the clock for Deba & Nageena</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Race report Ultra Compound Race Kabul</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfe8Bf36YiWe0ETD02m5oPqDj8gTz5l2X_LbwtAgK95FL-XbaxnL-1rdKn34HeeBoJzlIFSNZKhHxIyVCe5uMr_zWjZH2f-cYl5PdsJYlzD5GccLnngDEUCMI8txcmxmcGQ_kqO2t4Fys/s1600/IMG_0695.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="341" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfe8Bf36YiWe0ETD02m5oPqDj8gTz5l2X_LbwtAgK95FL-XbaxnL-1rdKn34HeeBoJzlIFSNZKhHxIyVCe5uMr_zWjZH2f-cYl5PdsJYlzD5GccLnngDEUCMI8txcmxmcGQ_kqO2t4Fys/s400/IMG_0695.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Posing with Deba (back), Nageena (front) and their parents and little brother<br />
after being awarded as best male runner</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
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</div>
After completing the first international Afghanistan
marathon last October I was sure there wouldn't be another race to run anytime
soon in this war-torn and security-paranoid country. I was actually looking for
a marathon to replace the Athens Classic on 8 November, to which I had signed
up (and paid for) but couldn't take part because my first recreational break
could only be granted one week later. I was thinking about the Istanbul
marathon on 15 November - never done before - a good way to run from Asia to
Europe on my way home to Athens. Until I received a strange email with the
announcement of a 100k/24 hour charity race/walk in downtown Kabul, on Friday
13 November. Wasn't quite sure if it was serious: running 100k within 24 hours
in a city with zero freedom of movement, at least for internationals and
UN-staff in particular - where, whom? The charity cause however was more than
serious: raising $100.000 to help Deba and Nageena - two poor Afghan sisters -
with a life-saving bone marrow transplantation in an Indian hospital. I called
organiser Dave Lavery and I agreed I would sign up after I saw the race venue
and checked with security about its safety.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguGb-tD2XvaYleunPqBqM2WTcPT9_dNiE2H33ZI6uwKmU1c72h_s8lCh0CdnBShYQUsrgSJL5UPw6hRUvQKNN5W-Qdrtua8lQ6h93F-ZPVvw4JQVOP3K6HhDHZ7yGMGxt-VdYDgQEt20A/s1600/IMG_0589.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguGb-tD2XvaYleunPqBqM2WTcPT9_dNiE2H33ZI6uwKmU1c72h_s8lCh0CdnBShYQUsrgSJL5UPw6hRUvQKNN5W-Qdrtua8lQ6h93F-ZPVvw4JQVOP3K6HhDHZ7yGMGxt-VdYDgQEt20A/s400/IMG_0589.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roof-top race course marked by cones and a code not to bombard this place</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBGKRPvTKpdsaAFq816mdrxxG3tyKqM4PtBl6u8u5MrOhh9V3vGthHyaOmk6zOJiWYpP7U9Xhnc-nx2KNT8Jx7aKyA23gRXh8Ve33j_bXO6DnnyqBAdinsxjRMoj961F9ciTrkScU68TY/s1600/IMG_0646.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBGKRPvTKpdsaAFq816mdrxxG3tyKqM4PtBl6u8u5MrOhh9V3vGthHyaOmk6zOJiWYpP7U9Xhnc-nx2KNT8Jx7aKyA23gRXh8Ve33j_bXO6DnnyqBAdinsxjRMoj961F9ciTrkScU68TY/s320/IMG_0646.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The 6 floor running course</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Next Saturday I was dropped off at
a gate of a compound close to the popular ‘Butcher street’ in downtown Kabul.
Security guards with automatic guns let me in and led me to Mr Lavery - a tall
well built, grey-bearded jovial and vocal Canadian expat with many years of Kabul
in the backpack. In the typical Canadian no-nonsense style, he immediately
showed me the race-course. While walking next and behind Dave - in many
sections there was only space for one runner at a time - my eyes must have must
have looked more and more puzzled - was it possible to run 100km or more on
this 875m lap of which only 300 meters outdoors and 575 meters indoors in an
empty residential building over 6 floors connected by 220 stairs, from basement
to roof-top - with splendid views over Kabul and surrounding hills? Dave might
have noticed my ‘puzzlement’ but reassured that security would be UN-compliant,
with Nepalese ‘ghurka’ soldiers fending of any possible attack - sic. After
this commitment I had no arguments left in the pocket not to confirm my
participation next Friday.<br />
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Obviously there was no time left to train properly for a
race like this. This year wasn't very successful on ultra-running so far - my
longest distance was not more than 62 km, in a mountain race in Northern Greece
(Zagori mountain run), not even completing the full 80k. Now I was supposed to
run 100km or even longer within 24 hours. I would go with the flow - there was
no pressure to perform or to compete. The decent performance at the Afghanistan
marathon some weeks ago should suffice to confidently aim for a distance beyond
the marathon mark - despite the odd course of maybe the most compact
ultramarathon in the world and human history.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCRRVdx6OBUCLuQiyKBXQJ8PqUWjXevMgBzDfXaKazWqpXdhZfSEoUtMU8Qwyac1AgORPDBugqWp9TplJ-Y_UIfbbezUpJnFZYIPbNirudT01Tppj6EM6dH1VOgB18yiUcgfC123wJGWA/s1600/IMG_0660.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCRRVdx6OBUCLuQiyKBXQJ8PqUWjXevMgBzDfXaKazWqpXdhZfSEoUtMU8Qwyac1AgORPDBugqWp9TplJ-Y_UIfbbezUpJnFZYIPbNirudT01Tppj6EM6dH1VOgB18yiUcgfC123wJGWA/s320/IMG_0660.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The 220 steps of the staircase between basement and roof-top</td></tr>
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The entire week leading to the race it was raining and very
cold in Kabul - under these circumstances it would be nearly impossible to run
the slippery surfaces, stairs and sharp turns. But the race was on Friday the
13th, usually my lucky day since my birthday on the same rare combination more
than half a century ago*. Friday morning was still cloudy but skies would be
blue by the time of the gunshot - a nice prospect to start the race. I arrived
well on time to organise my pit-stop with my choice of drinks and foods to keep
going, as well some warm clothes for a night that would flirt with freezing
temps. BBC Persian and a national Afghan TV (Tolo) showed up for interviews
footage with focus on the charity story around Deba & Nageena who were
present with their lovely parents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>All runners - around 30 national and internationals, fairly gender
balanced to Afghan standards - had the chance to meet and greet with the family
- a strong moral boost to keep going for their well-being. I paid my fee and
got race shirt No13 in return - a positive sign? <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdSVHMWNzBI7FRw9p6a_FFUjLU9Y4zXG-MMG-pvCouksplbsaYGeHKXSqh-TbVwZcOqf2QjPPm6_sKJkzDBMVxVtn8A6xc2x4cY6_Oz4vCMEFnedPxhUBvUMM0nYdZOyputn4OzDwvFhw/s1600/IMG_0662.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdSVHMWNzBI7FRw9p6a_FFUjLU9Y4zXG-MMG-pvCouksplbsaYGeHKXSqh-TbVwZcOqf2QjPPm6_sKJkzDBMVxVtn8A6xc2x4cY6_Oz4vCMEFnedPxhUBvUMM0nYdZOyputn4OzDwvFhw/s400/IMG_0662.jpg" width="245" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready to go</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
At 12 PM sharp, Dave Lavery finally blew the whistle and
there we went - stepping into a new adventure. The first laps were quite hectic
with many runners starting way too fast and bumping onto other slower runners
on stairways and narrow alleys. Race director Dave was not only running himself
but also correcting other runners on the course to keep left on the stair- and
doorways. First laps passed quickly but also made clear this would become a
tough race later on, both physically and mentally. Only the first 3 hours I
could complete 8 laps per hour but needed to wind down to seven to save energy
for the long haul. After 8 hours of endless laps, narrow corridors, thousands
of stairs, hundreds of floors and rooms in and out - I needed a first longer
break of around 30’ to restock carbs and proteins with a hearty meal of grilled
chicken breast with rice and carrots, accompanied by a can of malt beer. That
hour I could only complete 3 laps, the lowest number of the entire race. The
next hours I only logged 5 laps per hour but I kept going while other runners
took longer breaks or simply called it a day with sore knees an battered quads
- some of them would later resume running and walking after a few hours of
sleep.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEvgrxALOuPSu5rbqzwxTU6JDhbjudplqlrbbaxsnaeecIKQjGYikAgsG9h4XOk3n-ptoJ8uXJ4fNJa5ZtydUb-sfUtbMC3mW5VNMbWjfRLT1i9LLEBlu3kdjcFXRCDcQxty49HVCcGEk/s1600/IMG_0679.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEvgrxALOuPSu5rbqzwxTU6JDhbjudplqlrbbaxsnaeecIKQjGYikAgsG9h4XOk3n-ptoJ8uXJ4fNJa5ZtydUb-sfUtbMC3mW5VNMbWjfRLT1i9LLEBlu3kdjcFXRCDcQxty49HVCcGEk/s320/IMG_0679.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A brief break with nurse Kim</td></tr>
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In the wee
hours after midnight there were only three non-stop-runners left that seemed to
compete for the longest distance: Dave, the organiser, Sean MacGillivray, a
Scottish endurance athlete running non-stop with a backpack of 12 kilo’s (no
kidding!) and I. Some younger Afghan runners went to bed after midnight,
claiming they ran more than 70k and would wake up on time to complete the last
30k before 12pm next day - a claim that the organisation commented with some
skepticism. The counting of laps was not electronically but based on verbal
communication to nurse Kim, who was not only standby for med-support but also
registered the hourly number of laps on a big white board.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I found it very difficult to memorise
the number the laps per hour - your mind is not working properly throughout
such an ordeal - so I kept track of my laps by marking every lap on my own
whiteboard. How many times I got so disoriented that I ascended the rooftop
floor a second time instead of going down - with other runners correcting my
mistake. But despite the monotonous laps and frosty and wacky cold night I can
cope with the much-feared sleep deprivation and mark lap after lap, thanks to a
shift from running to fast walking.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Running through the night with some beats</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWXy66lbf7i04TPFWoZbqK6Zim09H7zgoswa5sElYXwr8AECP-bJ9oe6xeGIuOKwi58jfbW0TgSJpXaimggCUKIkIDE9Vv2iW2ciOoC6RDlBf5NBVRmF_xLIdk4TyRui6I_5cNcqFS-s4/s1600/IMG_0672.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="188" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWXy66lbf7i04TPFWoZbqK6Zim09H7zgoswa5sElYXwr8AECP-bJ9oe6xeGIuOKwi58jfbW0TgSJpXaimggCUKIkIDE9Vv2iW2ciOoC6RDlBf5NBVRmF_xLIdk4TyRui6I_5cNcqFS-s4/s400/IMG_0672.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from the roof-top shortly after sunrise</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I reached the 50k mark around midnight and managed to log
the 100th lap by sunrise - the magical moment when the night is pushed away by
a new dawning day - with a golden sun reflecting on the frozen damp on the
rooftop - making it extremely slippery - and reflecting its rays on the
surrounding mountains with their pink coloured snow cover - pure magic. Even
the patrolling Nepalese ghurka’s were at awe. I kept going and by 8AM I finally
reached the goal mark of 114 laps or 100 km. 100 km in and around one building!
Now it was time to listen to the competitive voice in me. Where are the others
and how far and fast will the they go? Sean looked stronger and faster than
ever and I was sure he logged more laps than I did so far. Dave have some
setbacks due to medical tests but picked up the pace after sunrise. Also the
young Afghan runners - some very committed young men and women - rose from their
beds and were running again. As I could not read the running minds I decided to
break the fast with a superb omelette and then add some more laps to compete
for the lead. Around 11:30 it was clear I was out of reach and concluded the
last lap, number 130, totalling 113,75 km and 28.600 stairs or 13 vertical km’s
up and down. Sean already quit the race when he reached the 100k mark but Dave
continued until the 12pm gong and accumulated 119 laps or 104,125 km. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnRqDxW_GKrN3nvdjJwqyPkEKEGVnfrFkDz9C8pXBL4pBM4jM9Uu0bNiSLvgI8-qfYEQj8HdDoUCB9jiufDViwOocBOb34B32kSKhFIbr4og3HyctB30cHAtksp7XcS9cJoHNx-HhWhDY/s1600/IMG_0687.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnRqDxW_GKrN3nvdjJwqyPkEKEGVnfrFkDz9C8pXBL4pBM4jM9Uu0bNiSLvgI8-qfYEQj8HdDoUCB9jiufDViwOocBOb34B32kSKhFIbr4og3HyctB30cHAtksp7XcS9cJoHNx-HhWhDY/s400/IMG_0687.jpg" width="252" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The 'podium' with Sean (3), Dave (2), Frank (1)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
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The
podium positions were clear and of course I was happy with my win, but hats of
for Sean with his 12kg backpack - an outstanding performance as Dave later said
- as well for Dave himself - running strong at age 55, with only one kidney,
coming back from a long recovery, running while organising and running while
sampling blood every couple of hours - ‘il faut le faire’. Also hats of for the
young Afghan runners that kept going until the gong, some of them - and Zainab
in particular - the only Afghan woman finishing the Afghanistan marathon some weeks
earlier - running, walking and finally limping a large part of the race in
pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgai5keU0QAJ7mUGiZKl55QUQB44ik5Pr8R_SFG5P4NLDbpwWZWq-HKsYAPo7Zrr5b9kvs9zF8MPQ51l6pMcrslvMQhbTZtbbVRqf3sXAiR3Ng93Wu4u6torWHdu3lGaDO052b8fq0RQvc/s1600/IMG_0693.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgai5keU0QAJ7mUGiZKl55QUQB44ik5Pr8R_SFG5P4NLDbpwWZWq-HKsYAPo7Zrr5b9kvs9zF8MPQ51l6pMcrslvMQhbTZtbbVRqf3sXAiR3Ng93Wu4u6torWHdu3lGaDO052b8fq0RQvc/s400/IMG_0693.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BBQ with award for best female (Afghan) runner, <br />
flanked by some other brave young Afghan runners</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The race event was concluded with a great BBQ meal and some
time together with the lovely sisters and their mom and dad. I was awarded with
a gift box with Emirates goodies and a nice certificate as Best Male Runner.
After the race I went straight to the gym of Alpha compound, not to run more
but to enjoy a cooling-down swim and a re-heating sauna and hammam. Maybe
thanks to this early-recovery workout I only experienced mild soreness the days
after the race. It was not the legs but my lungs that needed most time for
recovery: running 13 vertical kilometers at an altitude of nearly 1.800 meters
with heavily polluted outdoor air is certainly not ‘trouble-free’ for a runner
with a history of asthma like me. That was also the main reason why I was
forced to a brisk walk for the second half of the race - but it was also the
key for success as I could keep going without breaking down. It was my first
completed 24 hour race, actually the longest race I ever ran in time - not in
distance (that was Olympia Race in 2012 with 180,1 km in 20h15). In any other
’normal’ 24 hour race a distance of 113 km would be considered as a
turtle-performance, but this race was everything but normal - it actually might
qualify for one of the most compact ultramarathons ever, ‘thanks’ to the
extreme security conditions imposed upon expats in Kabul. Once more it is
proven that nothing is impossible and that there are no good excuses not to
run, wherever, whatever. </div>
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Apparently, the entire event was ‘interesting’ enough for
the BBC to make a short reportage for its Persian broadcasting (see link below)
but lets not forget the cause: the solidarity with the Thalassemia sisters and
their parents. The event raised around $10.000 or 10% of the needed funds. In
other words more funds are most welcome, so please also donate - my race fee of
$125 went entirely to the fund. </div>
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<b>Frankly runner</b><br />
<b>Athens, 23 November 2015</b></div>
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*) with all my respect to the victims of the horrible killings that day in Beirut and Paris<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">BBC Persian;
http://www.bbc.com/persian/afghanistan/2015/11/151115_l93_kabul_marathon?post_id=768770843_10153780780585844#_=_</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">For those that want to support the worthy cause please visit
the Gofundme site; https://www.gofundme.com/sx6kh7fk/donate please spread the
word so we can ensure we raise the necessary funds for Deba and Negeena. Thank
you!</span></div>
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Frank D'hondthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637163192825970380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1066773482987621004.post-20437502209639226882015-10-23T05:32:00.001-07:002015-10-23T05:41:42.160-07:00Afghanistan Marathon Race Report<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-size: large;"> Race report</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">It’s Friday morning 16 October and I am 43
km out of Bamyan town towards Band-e Amir National Park in the Central
Highlands of war-torn Afghanistan, 3100 meters above sea-level. At 9:04 AM,
race director James Bingham blows the whistle to kick-start the first
International Afghanistan Marathon, jointly organized by Untamed Borders, Free
to Run and the local Silk Road Event club. I am the last one to cross the
imaginary starting line, marked by two race banners, literally in the middle of
nowhere in this majestic rugged landscape, surrounded by snow-capped mountains.
Only now it sinks in this is really going to happen. For many reasons this is not
just another marathon race - one in the many dozens I’ve ran so far. </span></div>
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<a href="https://fbcdn-sphotos-g-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-xpa1/v/t1.0-9/12115884_710115735787865_5400734597864609367_n.jpg?oh=1ba4f5edb4f362b1da032f8ab8335af3&oe=568C847A&__gda__=1451692482_48c5c07cabbfa4114679ab2bd86faac7" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" class="spotlight" height="320" src="https://fbcdn-sphotos-g-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-xpa1/v/t1.0-9/12115884_710115735787865_5400734597864609367_n.jpg?oh=1ba4f5edb4f362b1da032f8ab8335af3&oe=568C847A&__gda__=1451692482_48c5c07cabbfa4114679ab2bd86faac7" width="240" /></a><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: red;"></span>Only ten days earlier I arrived in Kabul to
embark on a new UN-mission to advise and support the Government and President
on urban development issues. On my two-day layover in Dubai I must have picked
up a virus, causing an infection of the upper part of my precious lungs. Two
days ago I was still coughing up my lungs and could hardly train. My training
already lost focus the last couple of weeks since I knew I could not be back on
time to run the Athens Classic as planned. When I found out about the
Afghanistan marathon a couple of weeks ago I thought it could be a nice
replacement but was pretty sure I wouldn’t be allowed to run it because of
security risks, provided the race would happen anyway. The Taliban was just pushed
back from their brutal attack on Kunduz but they demonstrated how easy it is to
terrorize and create a state of fear. I spent my first week in Kabul in splendid
isolation in a UN compound, under security curfew due to high alert of attacks
on UN compounds in the capital – with entire restriction of movement. With the
combination of a severing lung infection and security threats I could only
dream of lush Afghan highlands, let alone running a marathon. Yet, against all
odds, I finally applied for a UN security clearance to travel to Bamyan,
bluntly indicating the real purpose (I could have faked a business trip). To my
big but pleasant surprise the trip was cleared two days before the race. A race
against the time started to figure out how to get there, where to stay overnight
(safely), how to move around there and last but least to register for the race
if still possible an if the race was still on. </div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">No wonder it felt like a miracle just to
drive out of the compound and heading to the airport, still anticipating a last
minute cancelling of the flight due to security risks. Uttered a sigh of relief
when the small plane finally took off and landed safely at the small Bamyan
airstrip the day before the race. I was warmly welcomed by the local team of my
agency and after a courtesy visit to the office I went to the registration
centre in Buddha cafe. In no time I was handed over my bib number - it started to sink in this could really happen. </span></div>
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<a href="https://fbcdn-photos-a-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-xat1/v/t1.0-0/s526x395/12096403_712591795540259_7600407105627896244_n.jpg?oh=0e5d03614aec2c7d95aec51850edf88c&oe=56BB4CF7&__gda__=1451627147_23812530260f7931ff99c6864280008b" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" class="spotlight hidden_elem" height="320" src="https://fbcdn-photos-a-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-xat1/v/t1.0-0/s526x395/12096403_712591795540259_7600407105627896244_n.jpg?oh=0e5d03614aec2c7d95aec51850edf88c&oe=56BB4CF7&__gda__=1451627147_23812530260f7931ff99c6864280008b" width="289" /></a><span lang="EN-GB">The office team took me on a
tour through the nearby Buddha caves, a truly unique UNESCO World Heritage Site
with what once were the biggest Buddha statues ever made, until the Taliban
blew them to pieces in March 2001, as ultimate humiliation of the local Muslim
population that cared for its Buddha’s. However, Bamyan bounced back and is now
a thriving and relatively progressive multi-ethnic community, welcoming a
growing number of Afghan and foreign tourists in a stunning landscape setting.
While admiring the views of and from the Buddha caves I motivated three local
office colleagues – two gents and a young dynamic lady - to sign up for the
race, which they did just before closing time. Moving others to run and push
their limits can be as rewarding as running yourself! I was driven to my hotel
- Highland Hotel, built as a small fortress on a hill overlooking the entire
Bamyan valley – and warmly welcomed by manager Parul, an Afghan archaeologist
with excellent knowledge about the region, its people, its history and its multiple
local legends that testify a unique blend of different cultures of East and West.
The Highland fortress also happened to be the hotel of the race organizers and
even more pleasantly surprising, the finish line of tomorrow’s race - while I
thought it would be more downtown. I couldn’t wish for a better briefing on the
race, accompanied by excellent Afghani food.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://scontent-sin1-1.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-xlp1/v/t1.0-9/12079434_1493011204360151_3222697486484919770_n.jpg?oh=de9b39e146acf18c7da65fc8fa966a16&oe=56C86C0A" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" class="spotlight" height="201" src="https://scontent-sin1-1.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-xlp1/v/t1.0-9/12079434_1493011204360151_3222697486484919770_n.jpg?oh=de9b39e146acf18c7da65fc8fa966a16&oe=56C86C0A" width="320" /></a>Next morning, after breakfast, my office
running colleagues showed up timely to drive to the starting line, ahead of the
official race vans. It reminded me to the Athens and Boston marathons, where
you also drive the race course and then run back. It gives you more than just
an idea of the race course: you notice the hills and the sheer length of the
one way road. Once at the starting line I was happy to meet ultra-runner Stephanie
Case, whom I know as colleague while working in Gaza, and driving force behind <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Free to Run</i>, an NGO aiming at empowering
young Afghan women and girls to run in this male dominated and women unfriendly
society. She came with an entire bus and contributed substantially to a high
share of more than 40% female runners, high overall and of course especially in
Afghanistan. Hats off!</span><br />
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<span lang="EN-GB">The next surprise was the timely start,
which I nearly missed as I thought it would take the usual delay. I
deliberately started easy given the high altitude (3100m), the fragile
condition of my lungs and being slightly undertrained for running an oxygen
deprived marathon. I was here to complete the race; not to compete. Some other
international runners took of much faster and most of the local runners went
out weigh too fast, as if it was a sprint. </span></div>
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<a href="https://fbcdn-sphotos-c-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-xta1/v/t1.0-9/12141607_712801885519250_1652598323799122738_n.jpg?oh=1249a06ebd5887e8959a013cfd3150a9&oe=5685103B&__gda__=1456409266_3e70a86c42a329d3e6e9132c8be10cc2" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" class="spotlight" height="286" src="https://fbcdn-sphotos-c-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-xta1/v/t1.0-9/12141607_712801885519250_1652598323799122738_n.jpg?oh=1249a06ebd5887e8959a013cfd3150a9&oe=5685103B&__gda__=1456409266_3e70a86c42a329d3e6e9132c8be10cc2" width="320" /></a><span lang="EN-GB">Although gradually going down to
2550 meters altitude in Bamyan, there were also some uphill’s to negotiate. The
weather was overcast and temps below 10 degrees Celsius – ideal running
conditions for me and allowing me to push a bit on those hills, picking up more
and more runners gasping for air while over-striding. Only after cresting the
hills I had to make some brief stops to cough up the toxic waste in my lungs –
painful but controlled. At the halfway mark I was handed over refreshing
watermelon while informing that I was running in 10<sup>th</sup> position. That
must have been a decisive moment to shift from completing to competing – I had
nothing to prove nor to loose and I was still enjoying the stunning landscapes
on both sides of the road. For long time you don’t see any runners in front of
you and all the sudden there are a few within reach. International runners usually
keep their (slowing) pace while most local runners could not bear the idea of
being passed and clinched on until they broke down and were forced to walk,
which indicates they are really doing something new and inexperienced – again
hats off! When I reached the last check-point I was told to be in second
position, but too far behind the lead runner, Keith MacIntosh (UK) who was
running at a blistering pace. The last 7k I struggled a bit with raising temps,
sun, lungs and glutes but could keep my position, as I didn’t see any runner at
far distance behind me, at least not on feet. Crossed the line after 3 hours
49, which could have been maybe 20 minutes faster if I started a bit faster,
had clean lungs, had more prey to hunt and didn’t suffer a bursitis hip injury
towards the end of the race – still struggling with it. However, it was a
marvellous experience to cross the finish line after a memorable race with
unexpected outcome. </span></div>
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I was actually third. How come? There was a lot of buzzing about cheating with
a motorbike but the mixed race jury finally rejected a disqualification, which
would have resulted in a podium with only foreigners - maybe undermining future
competitions. I didn’t really bother too much about this ‘setback’ and cherished
my ‘bronze medal’ and a call onto the podium - a feat that felt surreal anyway,
given the antecedents of this race. </span></div>
<span lang="EN-GB" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" class="spotlight" height="304" src="https://scontent-sin1-1.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-xtp1/v/t1.0-9/12108288_713558568776915_6074598083491072959_n.jpg?oh=95a343a04fb032edc5ac2cbb915b32b3&oe=56CAD179" width="320" /> </span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB">Next day I joined race initiator James
Bingham on a trip to the stunning Band-e Amir lakes 80 km out of Bamyan, while
sweeping all the plastic bottles along race course. Band-e Amir is the first
National Park in Afghanistan and more than worth it – a chain of 6 deep-blue
glacial lakes surrounded by sandstone cliffs. It could be the perfect setting
for the first Afghanistan Ultra-marathon…(and yes, James is considering it one
day). Later in the afternoon the running team of my agency took me also on a
ride, this time to a volcanic mountain with a ridge that was cleaved by a big
sword to kill the dragon in the valley, with strong reminiscences to the legend
of Saint Michael. A nice place to conclude this extraordinary journey before
heading back to dusty and jammed Kabul next day.</span>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB">Post
scriptum</span></b></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">My last running blog on <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #1f4e79; mso-themecolor: accent1; mso-themeshade: 128;">franklyrunner.blogspot.com</span></i><span style="color: #1f4e79; mso-themecolor: accent1; mso-themeshade: 128;"> </span>goes
back to February …2014. What happened in between and why write again? Was the
Afghanistan race so exceptional or were all races in between so bad? No and
maybe yes. The dedication to overcome many hurdles to get to the start and then
running a decent race in a war-torn country despite all the adversities feels
like a greater achievement than running a faster but ‘normal’ marathon. On the
other hand this was just a marathon while I thought I was an ultra-marathoner only
writing about marathons as trainings for <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>primary ultra runs. And indeed, since the
longer-distance races were not working out that well anymore since a series of
very promising races a couple of years ago, such as Swiss Alpine marathon
(78k), Comrades in South-Africa (89k), Psara-Allepochori (100k – 7<sup>th</sup>
place), Megara (125k – 2<sup>nd</sup> place) and Olympia (180k – 3<sup>rd</sup>
place) all in Greece, my appetite to write about a growing number of failed
ultra-races ebbed away since my second DNF in the ultimate ultra-run from
Athens to Sparta – the (in)famous Spartathlon – see my last race report of
February 2014. Since then I only had more disappointing ultra runs while also
my finishing times on the classic marathon distance went gradually up</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">L</span></span><span lang="EN-GB">. Although I always claimed that participating is more important
than performing or even completing, the truth was probably hurting a bit, but
not enough to bother writing about it. </span></div>
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<a href="https://scontent-sin1-1.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-xpa1/t31.0-8/11221850_678885792244193_8747147920214094980_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" class="spotlight" height="300" src="https://scontent-sin1-1.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-xpa1/t31.0-8/11221850_678885792244193_8747147920214094980_o.jpg" width="400" /></a><span lang="EN-GB">However, I never failed to raise and run
again after falling and failing</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"></span></span><span lang="EN-GB">. Last year I still ran around 10 international races of marathon or
longer distance, including a memorable ‘short but intense’ 55k run in Iceland
and a 62k run from Ancient Nemea to Levidi in Greece. I was also unlucky to
start well trained and motivated in the 100 miler in the Virgin Forest in
Northern Greece autumn last year, struck by a winter storm/blizzard and
cancelling of the race after only 35k mud/snow running – wisely since many
runners including myself suffered severe and life threatening hypothermia. This
year was not much different. I ran five so-and-so marathons during spring - all
in too hot conditions for me – and failed to complete the brutally beautiful
80k ultra Zagori mountain run in northern Greece, despite a training week with
my coach Robbie Briton around Chamonix at the foot of the Mont Blanc, some
weeks prior to the race. I basically gave up dreaming and signing up for other
ultra-races and be happy with ‘simple’ marathons , thus happy to have seized
the opportunity to run the first international marathon in Afghanistan. Since
there is little chance to find other local races this will be it for this year
so time to look forward and plan races next year – despite the great
uncertainty where I will work and live. But the bottom line remains that there
is never a good excuse NOT to run, train and discover new places or rediscover
old places. Aging and/or a demanding profession might grant some excuse for
running slower and shorter but not for NOT running and NOT trying to push again
the readjusted limits of speed and distance. Paraphrasing George Bernard Shaw
there is a say that </span></div>
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<span class="MsoBookTitle"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #833c0b; mso-themecolor: accent2; mso-themeshade: 128;">“We don’t stop running because we
grow old, we grow old when we stop running”. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">See you on the road!</span><br />
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<span lang="EN-GB">Frankly runner </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Kabul, 23 October 2015</span></div>
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Frank D'hondthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637163192825970380noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1066773482987621004.post-66918344108787452602014-02-15T15:17:00.000-08:002014-02-16T11:07:14.365-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Running the Edge</span></div>
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<b style="color: #ff6a00; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 18px; letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: -8px;">Running Report 2013 - Outlook 2014</b></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #232323;">My last Running Report goes back to the end of ...2012 - that’s more than one year I didn’t write on my running. I could blame it on the new professional challenge I started back in January 2013, working with UN-HABITAT in the occupied Palestinian territory. But a year later the job remains more than ever challenging and yet I write again. So there must be another reason. It may be the simple fact that running and especially racing didn't go that easy and successfully as in previous years - in the year of turning 50. No new PR’s, no cups or podium finishes, no longer distances covered in a race in 2013. On the contrary, a new record of 3 DNF races in one season: Olympus Mythical Trail (ran 85 of the 100k), Lakeland 100 (ran 60 of the 100 miles) and - for the second consecutive time - the Spartathlon (only 93 of the 246k). Other races I started as well finished were the hilly and winding </span><b style="color: #232323;">Jerusalem Marathon</b><span style="color: #232323;"> (in 3:24:07 - 4th in my age group), the unforgettable </span><span style="color: orange;"><b>Boston Marathon</b></span><span style="color: #232323;"> (in 3:05:33), the first and rainy </span><b style="color: #232323;">Palestine Marathon</b><span style="color: #232323;"> (5 days after Boston in 3:30 - 5th overall), the tough but magnificent 80k <b>Braveheart Cyprus Trail </b>(in 13:40), as well some shorter local races, including the Tel Aviv an Jerusalem night runs, and the Wine and Desert Half Marathons (the latter finishing well as 5th in age group). I also logged endless training miles in and around Jerusalem, often late after or early before long working hours, including a 70k training run in the Jerusalem forest on a hot Sunday morning. Also ran a hot 35k through a canyon in the desert; another 35k along the shore of the Dead Sea as well a 70k loop along the coast, between Tel Aviv and Netanya. Whenever it was (very) hot, I was forced to a slow or even walking pace. To overcome the sadness not participating in my 8th consecutive Athens Classic Marathon on 10th of November - due to work - I ran a solo marathon on the trails of Jerusalem Forest, including 1000m elevation gain over 42,2km in …4:21:95. Marathon numbers mania… </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">“Running is a sport that unites us. </span></b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">All backgrounds and ability levels. </span></b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">This event is trying to break us but we are strong. </span></b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">We are runners.”</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Last year’s first prime race however was the iconic </span><span style="color: #ff9300; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>Boston Marathon</b></span><span style="color: black; letter-spacing: 0px;">,</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> the longest standing marathon in the world, launched one year after the first Athens Olympic Marathon in 1896 and at its 117th edition in 2013. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Due to the workload it wasn’t easy to follow the same training schedule as for the New York marathon in 2009, my best performance ‘so far’. As a consequence I never reached training targets to finish another sub-3. Yet I was determined to give it a try, knowing what adrenaline and testosterone can achieve on race day. That Monday on 15 April, the weather conditions were excellent. So I started out fast on the early downhills and crossed the halfway mark in 1:28 - still on track for a sub-3. However, the engine sputtered in the second half and Heartbreak Hill ruled out the last hope on a timely finish. Crossed the memorable finish line a bit disappointed in 3:05:33 - however blessed to finish long before the horrendous pressure-cook-bombings at the finish line, approximately one hour later. Despite this coward terror attack on the spirit of the marathon I enjoyed Boston city a lot and in particular its <i>runnability</i> along the shores of the sea/river/universities. Never seen so many, so young and so handsome recreational runners in one city - definitely a place where I could live and work (to do a Phd on the <i>runnability-</i>indicator for prosperous cities - anyone in for sponsoring it?). No doubt the Boston marathon will live on and the people who lost their lives or limbs should always be remembered as part of the unbreakable spirit of the marathon. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaG54A_T_HOv8drY_2OpT2MTCYXBrO0ey6STK59GmBhKqP9BU9AR2lhKw1ibWUn7EN3HNWqB8rElLvokt1Z7RxUHmXU5cliSaTat9oyB1LzFggG4-ArjdE6Xp-OoxURuE4V_UdZPEsUAk/s1600/IMG_1220.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaG54A_T_HOv8drY_2OpT2MTCYXBrO0ey6STK59GmBhKqP9BU9AR2lhKw1ibWUn7EN3HNWqB8rElLvokt1Z7RxUHmXU5cliSaTat9oyB1LzFggG4-ArjdE6Xp-OoxURuE4V_UdZPEsUAk/s1600/IMG_1220.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Just finished the Braveheart Ultra in North Cyprus</span></td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The second sign of weakening performance compared to previous years came with the Braveheart Ultra race in Cyprus, officially called <b>The Two Castles and an Abbey Trail Ultra</b>. It’s a scenic race in the North of Cyprus including some rough and very steep sections, as well a daunting ascent to a castle at the peak of the race. The race is very well organised and I can highly recommend it to all lovers of trail racing, off the beaten track and with the best value for (little) money. I started out well and kept a pole position until 50k in the race, but than suffered from heat and dehydration and finally collapsed around 65k in the race. After the race director reanimated my depleted body and mind, I walked the final 15k to finish in more than 13 hours overall. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Once more sun and heat badly affected my performance, as I had experienced in my first Spartathlon attempt and would face again in my second attempt later in the year. Also in my second attempt to finish the gruelling Olympus Mythical Trail as well in the iconic fell running race Lakeland 100 I couldn't find the right strategy and tactics to overcome sun and heat, dehydration and a bloated stomach. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">In the <b>Olympus Mythical Trail</b> however, I <i>could</i> have finished if I really wanted it. I survived a horrible first 35k with thick fog, blistering wind and prickly snow going up and roaming the peaks of Zeus’ mountain, with nothing more than a short and a t-shirt covering my freezing body - I know I should have known better... And when I got lost for more than one hour in the fog, at first I feared to loose the race and later on I even feared for my life, honestly. So when I finally got back on the course and started the descent to lower and warmer areas it already felt like a victory way before the finish line. I picked up many runners and feeling strong until 70k in the race. Then energy levels and mental focus dwindled and I quit the race at Prionia aid station, only 15k away from the mythical finish line. I simply could not add any suffering for the final 15, infamous to all OMT runners as you endlessly circle around the finish area. I believe the race director is now reviewing this final tantalising section. I was actually proud with my 85k and over 5000m elevation gain in 20 hours - recovering soon after with some lamb chops and some more beers.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirVaYAMD43oRSkkCxYLDcVJvGee0u3FRAAwh5XHs5Urx1ke66BU_6zyOSGr4YqNabtpbxv7-RNLqlu16vecG1heUnwMTV6LXIdgVZ0CsQTa7mMITidBc-ylm_QY4jsm8AzMX40u_G6DvM/s1600/IMG_1891.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirVaYAMD43oRSkkCxYLDcVJvGee0u3FRAAwh5XHs5Urx1ke66BU_6zyOSGr4YqNabtpbxv7-RNLqlu16vecG1heUnwMTV6LXIdgVZ0CsQTa7mMITidBc-ylm_QY4jsm8AzMX40u_G6DvM/s1600/IMG_1891.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Day After the race was much cooler and better to run</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Pride however did not occur at the next A race, the 100 miles long iconic race around the Lake District in northern UK. The <b>Lakeland 100</b> is probably one of worlds most difficult fell running races. It’s not only its distance; it’s not only the endless ups and downs totalling more than 6000m elevation gain; it’s also the mental focus needed to orientate yourself on a totally unmarked course, during day and during night. I chose this race to be sure about cool racing temps so you understand my state of mind entering the race in the midst of a heat wave, with sun and temps above 25C. So once again, after going through the night relatively well, I struggled with proper fuelling and completely depleted towards half-way mark. I had to dig deep to ad another 10 miles on unforgiving terrain and handed over my bib at mile 60. And yet, some co-runners in a similar or even worse condition (with dollar sized blisters and swollen knees) managed to continue and ‘walk to the finish’ in overall more than 40 hours - while the winner, Stuart Mills finished in 22h or so. Seeing some of them some hours after the finish, I admired their determination but also felt pity for the physical state which might need a long recovery. I really wondered how much suffering and agony is worth the accomplishment of finishing and returning home with a medal. I couldn't bring it up when I felt totally spent, although I have to admit my own surprise the fast recovery after handing in the bib. Only some hours after I enjoyed a nice meal with some beers, and the next day I went back to the cursed mountains - now covered in clouds and with low temps! - and walked/ran another 35k!</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The Lakeland experience would have been excellent if I learned some proper lessons from it for the AA race of the year, the second attempt to run from Athens to Sparta, in the footsteps of the messenger Pheidippides.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi9iDoxcY_78shUnvPjn4_-sFm_9L1t8wpUIR2D47QSZFWZ2FkxxuBcw8J9ouyIryl9FITQbjxOcTOhcc6WkF47Jx_T4tTf-TSR7hD3u2De9Whsx8cgxQ6j5YhAKLzqlxtVmfMpQcGq_w/s1600/IMG_4863.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi9iDoxcY_78shUnvPjn4_-sFm_9L1t8wpUIR2D47QSZFWZ2FkxxuBcw8J9ouyIryl9FITQbjxOcTOhcc6WkF47Jx_T4tTf-TSR7hD3u2De9Whsx8cgxQ6j5YhAKLzqlxtVmfMpQcGq_w/s1600/IMG_4863.JPG" height="302" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Before the start of Spartathlon 2013 with my best supporter</span></td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">On 26 September at 6:30 I was really psyched up to complete the <b>Spartathlon</b>. Unfortunately the weather forecast was sunny and warm, but not as warm as last year. I was well trained with some monster weeks of running more than 100 miles and I had a sound fuelling strategy that would get me through the first day. The first 50k went very well and contrary to last year I didn't suffer too much to reach the first big check point at around 80k in the race.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">However, after a brief break I couldn't resume running at the pace I entered the station and slowed down to first a shuffle run and later on nothing more than a walk. I was not the only one so maybe nothing to really worry about. However my stomach felt so bloated that I had to throw up. Again nothing unusual in a race like this but somehow it felt as if I also threw up my motivation and self-esteem. The negative thoughts quickly took over and than it becomes very hard to see and keep yourself going for another 160k or 100 miles, especially when your appetite for something so basic as water is completely gone - how on earth can I keep going without drinking - compounded by the strict cut-off times. At the 93k Check-point in Ancient Corinth I decided to take a break and drink a beer - the only beverage that goes down if nothing else goes down - and see if I could get back on my feet before the time was cut off. Unfortunately that miracle didn’t happen so I finally handed in my bib, only 13km further in the race than last year. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Apparently I didn't learn anything from the Lakeland experience and, when I gave up in Ancient Corinth, I made a bold resolution NEVER AGAIN to race this or any ultra race of 100 miles or more, at least not in sunny and warm weather conditions. I somehow acknowledged the ‘fact’ that I have reached the limits of my physical and mental running abilities. I was running races that seemed bigger than me. I was running the edge and falling of the cliff. I was lucky enough to fall with no injuries and now I should wisely listen to the warning sign not to challenge my limits any further. </span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Now, less than 6 months onwards, I rise up and ... signed up for the third (and last) attempt to reach Leonidas’ statue in Sparta. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">WHY? Why not! - could be the simple answer. What nearly but finally didn't kill you should make you stronger, no? And - <i>what would you attempt to do if you knew you could not fail?</i> </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">All very metaphysical reasons, I know. As if it is only a matter of mind over body. Maybe it is? Of course you can’t even think to enter ultra races without a serious bout of physical training - something that is currently more than ever constrained by my job. But training and physical preparedness alone will not get you to the finish, that’s for sure - look at all the well (if not over-) trained athletes that DNF in the tough ultra’s. Of course I will have to find better fuelling strategies for ultra races in warm and sunny weather conditions, but again I’m not the only one struggling with this issue and others have found the key to unlock their personal best response.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Stuart Mills collecting the winners cup of Lakeland 100</span></td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I recently got intrigued by UltraStu’s blog. UltraStu is the nick name for Stuart Mills, the second time winner of the Lakeland 100, in a stunning time of 22h.... AT THE AGE OF 50 - my age! In many ways UltraStu is a non-benchmark as he is mocking all race and ageing stats. Yet I found some inspiration in his <b><i>Race Focus Energy</i></b> model. You can read it all on his blog but let me explain what I learned from it. The elicit Prof. Tim Noakes, author of the iconic ‘Lore of Running’ and ‘Waterlogged’, already demonstrated that there is a decrease in muscle activation initiated by the brain <i>when fatigued</i>. I repeat: by a fatigued brain, not necessarily fatigued muscles! This refers to Noakes’ theory of the Central Governor, lets say the brain that is holding back your body from potentially damaging physical activity. I repeat: potentially damaging! Mills argues that Race Focus Energy (RFE) is required in order to activate the exercise muscles above a threshold. This is translated into his training advice to a) <i>maximize</i> the size of the RFE tank prior to the start (and even allow to top up/refill during the race) and b) <i>minimize</i> the use of RFE during the race by <i>maximizing</i> the positivity of mental focus. Mills doesn't entirely denies the importance of physiological fitness and preparedness but argues that at least 50% of the success to win or finish a race is related to the mental fitness and preparedness, by a) be totally aware of the race demands (something I use to overlook or underestimate), b) be confident in your preparation to meet your goals (something I definitely could improve), c) be within the present moment during a race (and thus NOT thinking about the long way ahead) and d) simply enjoy the journey (a daunting task in the first leg of the Spartathlon). UltraStu even considers reading and writing on running as a workout in the TOTAL training for a key race. Let this be one of the reasons why today I preferred writing over running!</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I won’t say I found the magic bullet but I believe this simple RFE strategy might help in achieving my ultimate dream to reach Sparta and other far away destinations.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">On my journey to Sparta I have set some milestones to test my physical and mental state and focus.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After finishing Tiberias Marathon with its lake and monument </td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #232323;">I started the new running season with the </span><span style="color: blue;"><b>Tiberias Marathon</b></span><span style="color: #232323;"> in Northern Israel, on the 10th of January. A finishing time of 3:20 was far above my PR and average time but quite logic given the unspecific training of the previous months and weeks, focussing more on shorter races and trainings. Also the half marathon on Ymmithos mountain, on 2 February was completed in a modest time of 1:50 - 9’ above my PR on that course. My next target is the marathon of Tel Aviv, where I hope to run a bit faster than in Tiberias but certainly not aiming at a PR. One month later I will race for the second time the Jerusalem marathon, only useful for running hills as fast as possible just below the lactate threshold. I also signed up for my second Palestine marathon, 3 weeks later, but I might have to trade if for the 7th World Urban Forum in Medellin/Colombia. No problem, as I have already signed up for something much bigger 2 weeks later, a 144k ultra trail from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem, including some serious hills and rocky trails. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">This should be a serious test for my second participation in the bi-yearly 180,1k long ultra trail race from Ancient Nemea to Ancient Olympia. Two years ago I finished this epic race in just over 20 hours and a shared 3rd position, a completely unexpected result. Looking back to that race I can safely say that all stars were aligned, with cool temps, covered skies, good physical preparation as well a strong mental focus and a large RFE tank, which was regularly refuelled during the race, thanks to the unique journey and the wonderful organisation and race support. I entered the race with the only ambition to reach the finish within the 30h cut off time and I will start with the same ambition this time, regardless the outcome of the first race. My current workload simply doesn't allow the training volume I could achieve two years ago.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The last test before the S-race in September is now staged for Iceland, as I signed up for the 55k Laugavegur Ultra Trail Marathon, together with an Icelandic running friend I have met in Boston.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Now the goal is defined and the milestones are laid down, it’s time to throw in the physical and mental training required to achieve the goal and interim targets. But how much and what kind of training is required and possible in combination with work and family? When I started training for the classical marathon it was relatively easy to do your homework based on the many training plans available on the running web. This is however different for ultra’s. There are no clear cut training programs for a 144, 180 or 250k ultra. For this kind of ultra-humane performances we are all one of a kind. Some Sparta runners will swear by high mileage training - up to 200k per week or more - others will make it to the finish with a much lower weekly mileage. Some will incorporate speed and tempo workouts, others will simply log the miles at even pace. Some will train to walk, others wont. Some will run many B and C races, others will only focus on the one and only A race. The only common denominator I can see - more clearly now after reading UltraStu’s RFE theory - is the high amount and importance of mental training to get prepared for races of 100 miles and more. In case of the Spartathlon and other daunting ultra’s I have wondered why runners deemed less fit than me could finally make it to the finish. In one of my previous blogs I even alluded to crypto-religious dimensions I believed key in the determination of some of the finishers, as if running to Sparta is a kind of post-modern pilgrimage. Now I am convinced it has more to do with mental focus than with religion per se, which is a relief for a secular humanist like me. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Except (or better said part of) of physical and mental training there are two other new year resolutions I have made to reach my goals: pick up reading/writing on running and optimising my body composition and fuelling. By writing this blog and reading/implementing Tim Noakes’ new theory on nutrition - <i>The Real Meal Revolution</i> - I hope to hit both flies with one hand. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Will keep you posted.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Frank D’hondt,</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">February 2014, </span></div>
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Frank D'hondthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637163192825970380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1066773482987621004.post-26736089537984930792012-12-18T04:41:00.001-08:002012-12-19T15:59:25.298-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Running out of 2012</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0px;">On 12.12.12.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0px;">- the last double digit day before 3001 - I ran 12k. Only 12 km. There was no point in running more. Four days earlier I’ve ran 121,6 km or 75,5 miles in 12 hours. In a stadium. The stadium of Megara, the ancient city between Athens and Sparta, where I’ve passed along some months earlier on my debut Spartathlon. In laps of 400m. That makes ‘running around’ 312,5 times the same lap. It was my first 12 hour race on track. And, I finished second overall, after my friend Leonidas, but first in my age group of M45 (and according to the 'Deutsche Ultramarathon Vereinigung' my 'age graded performance' was 134,4 km). This year 'Running King Leonidas' surprised many by running further, higher AND faster, with sub 2:50 marathons and winning a mountain race and a 100 miler. And now also a 12 hour race. These are considered to be very different running disciplines and usually you have to sacrifice speed to run farther or longer. Not Leonidas, now aiming to run a new PR on the Boston marathon and to finish a debut Spartathlon. These two races also happen to figure high on my running calendar for next year - yes I do remember to have said I </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0px;">probably</i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0px;"> won’t run Spartathlon again - so it looks like we’ll stay </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0px;">connected</i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0px;">. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7ED0GvZa84b8UJF1tZxBqhKcRNI6wRoFQX5fWhy5cS2JJFTuUh_hFmw0sITEKYPbaCBj6FWp0GUGfMFirRajLz1G4T5s0dIi5qL4QMld2P8V7tdiGSMUcMTdL7zSd0onPj7embNfmpIM/s1600/415745_3891871785362_1415283727_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; font-size: 10px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7ED0GvZa84b8UJF1tZxBqhKcRNI6wRoFQX5fWhy5cS2JJFTuUh_hFmw0sITEKYPbaCBj6FWp0GUGfMFirRajLz1G4T5s0dIi5qL4QMld2P8V7tdiGSMUcMTdL7zSd0onPj7embNfmpIM/s320/415745_3891871785362_1415283727_o.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">[By the way, friendship is one the best merits of ultra-running. Paradoxically, whilst running - and ultrarunning in particular - is considered to be highly individualistic - it does create strong bonds among peers. The reason is quite simple: only (ultra)runners know what its like to take joy and understand the meaning of ‘pain’. While the modern (wo)man is taught to avoid pain and suffering, running can get you back on the healthy track of learning and benefitting from pain. Sunshine after rain always feels nice, no? Same with running. You simply feel better after stressing your body and mind, or at least you appreciate more the true happiness of ‘feeling alive’. This can be for a short distance with high intensity; it will be for sure the case after a long distance, regardless the intensity. I will never forget the last 20k with Odysseas at Olympus Marathon, nor the last 40k with Dinos at the Olympia Race. But ‘joy after pain’ is not always for granted. Often its just ‘pain after pain’; you’ll have to <i>risk</i> it, again something we try to avoid in our modern lives. And when you engage your self in races where all participants take the risk to aim for joy through and after pain, you feel connected by default. That simple!]</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My preparation for the 12 hour race was certainly not very race-specific. Since the (the first leg of) Spartathlon of end September I didn’t run run any longer distance non-stop than 52k, when I completed a training run from Athens to Sounio, along the Attic riviera. Moreover, since completing my sixth Athens Classic Marathon in November (see further), I didn't ran any further than 20k and I even included a biking week on the beautiful island of Naxos, where I’ve logged around 250 km to marvel the nice beaches and - of course - climb its highest mountain , Mount Zas (or Zeus), with a cave at the base where mighty Zeus allegedly was raised (so now I have seen where he was born - in a cave on Psiloritis mountain in Crete - where he was raised and where he reigned over his kingdom - Mount Olympus of course - and even where he was worshipped most - Ancient Olympia). As a matter of fact, two weeks before the Athens Classic Marathon, I had started a 24 week training plan for the Boston marathon, due to be held on 15 April, and to which I happily qualified to participate. Upon personal advice of my favorite running author, Matt Fitzgerald (‘Brain training for Runners’ and other great books runners should consult), I also included more advanced strength training, engaging a personal trainer, my friend Kostas Rigas, who is also running marathons, but much faster (2:40 something in Berlin last year). The strength trainings are twice a week, on Tuesday and Thursday, and include upper and lower body workouts which leave you ‘joyfully’ exhausted and or sore. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Therefore, the Athens Classic Marathon wasn't meant to be a hunt for a personal best, rather a training and just for the fun of starting and finishing it with some of my best running friends. However, once the start-gun went of for the 30th time, you go with the flow of the day. The weather conditions were not as favorable as last year but still fairly good for marathon racing. I kept a decent pace throughout the race, didn't push too hard on the hills between 15 and 30k and could open the turbo for the last 10, finishing for a sixth consecutive time in the magic Kalimarmaro Olympic stadium after 3 hours and 3’, 12th overall on 9000 something participants but - surprisingly - second in my age group (M45-49); however acknowledging that there were much faster men above 50! It also turned out to be my fastest marathon of this season, so good reasons to be satisfied with this unexpected result. And what a great feeling to walk away with no pain <i>after</i> the race, to run a 5k recovery run the next day and resuming the training schedule as nothing has happened the following days. Apparently my body (and mind) got used to the abuse, at least for marathon distances. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black; letter-spacing: 0px;"><i>[</i></span><span style="color: #0056d6; letter-spacing: 0px;"><i>I</i></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i> am a marathon runner</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">And my legs are sore</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">And I'm anxious to see what I'm running for</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">From the song “Marathon Runner”, performed by Yellow Ostrich (nice song by the way)]</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7dhEeyOkGgTA5ALpT9kSg1WzOH8bPxI5GDiXF0UW9-6fTfz75C1cQkFu9mbQ8PippMELnRoveQI5jfwM5jGc3aPj_jqh_V6AlqwGpitG5bUOlZDWbFmN9UBLRR4Y3FsH7pJDjvF-kBiI/s1600/75215_4935600946253_383569195_n+-+Version+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7dhEeyOkGgTA5ALpT9kSg1WzOH8bPxI5GDiXF0UW9-6fTfz75C1cQkFu9mbQ8PippMELnRoveQI5jfwM5jGc3aPj_jqh_V6AlqwGpitG5bUOlZDWbFmN9UBLRR4Y3FsH7pJDjvF-kBiI/s320/75215_4935600946253_383569195_n+-+Version+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju7mKxP_5KyNY8TZzmfpljW2Z0yZU-Kg_OS_arhv5Z3IwIwOigf03tDKVxiNi3vtmq9J1XSJgYSA-Gk_ZZDV3kt5O3AEykBox21GURViC31MkZxL6Awt6j7mt0Tr932v6cHBiy-SRs6SY/s1600/IMG_4451.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; font-size: 12px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju7mKxP_5KyNY8TZzmfpljW2Z0yZU-Kg_OS_arhv5Z3IwIwOigf03tDKVxiNi3vtmq9J1XSJgYSA-Gk_ZZDV3kt5O3AEykBox21GURViC31MkZxL6Awt6j7mt0Tr932v6cHBiy-SRs6SY/s320/IMG_4451.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, less than one month after the Athens Classic, I drove to Megara, at 5am. The race started timely at 7am and the first 10-20-30km ticked away ‘easily’, largely helped by the gorgeous weather with cool temps, a watery sun and almost no wind. This however changed throughout the day with more wind and rain in the later stages of the race. The thought of running hundreds of laps was intimidating <i>before</i> the race but I’ve decided to block out any negative thought <i>during</i> the race, which worked pretty well. The downtempo lounge chill out music on my mp3 also helped in keeping the pace steady, lap after lap. The first half of the race hours you run together with the 6 hour runners, so you have no clear idea of your position, although it was pretty clear from the start that Leonidas would reign sovereignly over his kingdom - by moments he was like flying around the stadium. And flying would surely be better than running on this soft tartan, which might be good for running a couple of laps but not for hours in a row - simply too bad for your joints. Already after 2 hours I felt pain around the right knee, due to an imbalanced running gait. Luckily, running direction is switched every 3 hours, so pain only returned around the other knee some hours later. After 6 hours, joints were sore at both sides, so <i>the pain was better balanced</i>. The first half you run with your legs and lungs, the second half you have to rely much more on heart and mind. The mind in particular. I needed to improvise a strategy to keep turning around like a hamster. I decided to try this: run 10 laps in a steady pace before taking a short break to eat, drink and stretch. It worked until the very end for me. I even could eat some home made pumpkin pie and try out chocolate flavored soya milk and vanilla flavored rice-milk, as a very welcome alternative for the sweet isotonic drinks and cola usually consumed during ultra’s. Moreover, the breaks in between the 10 laps-lap shortened in time towards the end. I probably owe this to my friend Ioannis, who was managing the time-keeping of the race and informing me about my position: “you are second but the third runner is closing the gap on you”. Although I only started this race with the aim to keep running for the entire 12 hours and if possible to run at least 110 km, my my competitive mode was aroused and once I figured out who was the 3rd runner, I didn't let him come any closer anymore, quite the reverse. Towards the very end some runners seemed to have tapped into a reserve tank and they were passing me several laps, up to a point I wasn't so sure anymore about my final position. Yet it became clear they picked up the pace too late and when the long awaited whistle ended the race, I was confirmed to have finished in second position, while my much appreciated Suunto Ambit watch showed no less than 125 km running, an average of 10,5 km/h for 12 hours. Despite the sore legs and cripple knees, it felt <i>good</i> to climb the podium, next to king Leonidas, and to be awarded with a special medal and a cup. Immediately after the award ceremony - and not able to drink or eat anything - I drove back home in agony. Also back home I could not take food but a Belgian brew provided just enough carbs and painkiller to make it to the bed. All night long I turned and tossed, and next morning I could hardly walk on a heavily swollen knee. So in this case, similar to my successful first 100k race earlier in this season, it turned out to be a <i>pain-joy-pain</i> sequence. Nevertheless I resumed my strength training on Tuesday (focusing on upper body thank god) and felt nearly euphoric to be able to run the next day, the 12k on 12.12.12 I’ve mentioned at the intro. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">[By the way, I finished the Megara race on baby-feet, with no blisters at all. Quite a pleasant surprise I can tell you. I ran the entire race in my Asics Noosa Tri shoes, those multicolored flashy ones often used by triathletes for their final marathon leg. I’ve tried them for the first time during the 24 hour Athens Running Festival in March but soon developed some hot spots, that would have turned into blisters if I didn't quit halfway. Later in the season I also used them for long training runs, but experienced problems with the elastic laces that are used by triathletes for easy transitioning. Only after replacement by normal laces I could fully enjoy the greatness of this shoe; a performance shoe with a relative low heel drop but sufficient cushioning. Throughout this season I have tried many different types and makes of running shoes, but mostly lighter and more minimalistic shoes. In earlier reports I already acclaimed Nike’s Free 3’s, but this year edition(s) dont fancy me that much, although, for the first time, I managed to run a marathon race in them. I’ve also tried the Nike Free 5 for longer distances - only once before they were never returned with my drop-bag by the Spartathlon organizers - but no thanks. The Merell Access barefoot was a better match, especially on trails. Also the Sketchers GoBionic is a real minimalist footwear compared to Nike Free: super lightweight, zero heel drop and super flexible. However I don't see myself running long distances or technical trails in them; they are more suitable for light training as well for recreation purposes (walking and even going out). For the trails I’ve also tried out two Inov8 models, the XT Tallon 212, which is a very lightweight trail shoe with decent traction, and the Mudclaw, which is more rugged and better suited for mountain runs. My shoe of the year however is the Saucony Kinvara 2, so not the latest model. This shoe is for me the perfect compromise between minimalist and more traditionally cushioned footwear. As stocks are running out, I ordered three pairs to be safe for a while, in white, black and red uppers. Saucony is not by coincidence one of the few brands only specialized in running sports. One last remark about running shoes: its probably even more important to improve your running gait and the pounding of the feet in particular, especially for longer distances. Minimalist shoes helped me to transition from heel striking to horizontal mid-foot landing. I don't see the point of fore-foot striking, but mid-foot substantially reduces the pounding of the feet and the shock to absorb by the tendons, calf muscles and knees. Once your running gait is bullet-proof, you can probably race in any kind of shoe.]</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Happy endings in both the Athens Classic Marathon and the Megara 12 hour race in particular flushed away doubts that had crept into my mind after a unsuccessful debut at a 24 hour race (Athens Ultramarathon Festival) in March and the Spartathlon in particular. Already in October I've reported on the Spartathlon race on this blog. The Megara race - similar to the successful Olympia 180k Trail race earlier this year - confirmed once more that my body performs optimal in cool weather conditions and that heat is my worst enemy. However, paraphrasing Stephen Kaggwa’s famous quote, “Try and fail, but don't fail to try (again).”. That’s why I have decided to give Spartathlon another try. Obviously I will need to develop a strategy to befriend my worst enemy and to further adapt my body to running in heat and humidity. My future work environment might help on that...<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Looking back on 2012 - my last race on 30 December, a 12k city-run in Leuven/Belgium won't probably change the overall picture - I can assess this years performances from two different angles. The ‘thumbs down perspective’ is that this year marked the very first season in which I could not finish some prime races. “Did Not Finish” or DNF in runners lexicon is for many runners the most feared outcome. We accept that most of us cannot outright win races, so <i>finishing</i> a race is the most important motivation to appear at the start in the first place. Until 2012, I never ‘DNF-d’ a race. But if you constantly push the boundaries of your limits, one day it has to happen. It happened the first time with the 24 hour Athens Ultrarunning Festival, where I pulled out the race after ‘only’ 96 km and 11,5 hours of running. However, technically I didn't DNF here, as the records just memorize that I’ve ran 96k in 24 hours. The first ‘real’ DNF came with the 100k Olympus Mythical Trail race. There I handed in my bib number after 62 km and about 12 hours, with at least the same amount of time ahead of me if i could and wanted to finish. I believe I could have done it, but for the first time I didn't want it, because I couldn't see the joy through or beyond the pain. One of the reasons was for sure the heat in the lower parts of the race, which I couldn't cope with very well. This race was planned as a serious training for the Spartathlon and I also didn't want to risk any serious injury by overstraining my joints only 2,5 months before THE race. However, it didn't really help, as I also DNF-d the infamous 246 km long Spartathlon. Of course, how could I know that I would participate in probably the hottest edition ever, with less than 25% of the qualified and experienced runners crossing the finish line in this ‘historical’ 30th edition. Lesson of all this: finally I seem to have found my limits. Maybe not absolute physical limits but rather limits in overruling my will to stop when exhausted or in pain. And I’m not unhappy with this ‘new reality’. I was looking for races that are difficult to finish and I’m happy to have found them. </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFUEPZl1B4raLXOWehVt3yAXJzT0Db3UEmQKikSpFNk7cSNdtV7muzSNJE_vdS0s-4MSLA9c5iloPibO4ulF9mvlWTglXORxIxRawlfF-DSmo2OnOMiwQmc8iN3VA8MX4AhpX0Hu-KX7E/s1600/Thumbs-Up.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFUEPZl1B4raLXOWehVt3yAXJzT0Db3UEmQKikSpFNk7cSNdtV7muzSNJE_vdS0s-4MSLA9c5iloPibO4ulF9mvlWTglXORxIxRawlfF-DSmo2OnOMiwQmc8iN3VA8MX4AhpX0Hu-KX7E/s200/Thumbs-Up.png" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0px;">But this year was also marked by three podium places in ultraraces I could never dream to ever participate, let alone to finish some years ago. The fist surprise came with my first attempt to run 100 km, in Psatha-Aleppochori in February, finishing 7th overall and first in my age group M45, in 8 hours 57’, more than 90’ faster than the official qualification time for the Spartathlon (read more in Running Diaries Nr 4). The second and to date biggest surprise came with the Olympia Trail Race in May, a 180,1 km long race over roads and trails, including mountain passes and river crossings. So longer than a classic 100 miler, the ‘standard distance’ for ‘real ultra-runners’. Starting the race with the sole ambition to finish, I surprised myself and others by claiming a shared 3rd place and a first age group ranking in 20 hours and 14’ (read more in Running Diaries Nr 5). Olympia Race added a holistic new experience to my (short) running career, with a nice crystal trophy that will remind me forever the beauty of running in tune with body and nature. With this result I was supposed to be able to finish Spartathlon, even within a decent time. But on my way to Olympia I had the weather gods on my side, while on the way to Sparta they turned against me. In Megara however, I was lucky again with the weather but nevertheless I didn't expect to finish second, let alone to run the 117th best time overall and 27th in M45 in this discipline <i>worldwide</i> (see </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">http://statistik.d-u-v.org) </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0px;">And of course I ran many other races and no less than 5 official marathons (Limassol in Cyprus, Antwerp and Torhout in Belgium, Jungfrau in Switzerland and finally the Athens Classic for a 6th consecutive time), in a consistent time of around 3 hours and 5’ (with exception of the Jungfrau mountain marathon - with probably the most beautiful mountain run finish in the world) and with the last one as the best performance (3:03). In Limassol I finished 13th overall and 1st in my age group, while in the Athens Classic I finished 126th overall and 2nd in my age group. Three ultra-running cups and some nice age group rankings in ‘ordinary’ marathons is a result beyond my expectations. Moreover, I could run many races and debut in ultra-distances without any serious injury, including daily training and some long and adventurous training runs, and that’s the biggest cup you can earn at the end of a long and intensive season. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The combined main lessons learned from both the failures and successes is that </span><span style="color: #e32400; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">a) nothing is for granted</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"> and </span><span style="color: #669c35; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">b) nothing is impossible</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">. Therefore I have challenged myself for next year - while ‘proudly’ entering the age group M50 - with two targets: </span><span style="color: #00a3d7; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">a) running faster than ever</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"> and </span><span style="color: #874efe; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">b) running farther than ever.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Boston marathon will be the prime race to achieve the first goal, while there can’t be any other more challenging race than Spartathlon to achieve the second goal. Luckily the two races are well apart in time, so my training can be easily modulated around those two prime races. Of course I have more races on the radar for 2013, but except of the Jerusalem Marathon on 1 March - making it the first upcoming marathon race - I have not yet paid any race fees, not knowing how the next year will envelop work-wise, as new horizons are looming. 2013 should also mark a breakthrough for a 'running related project' on which I have been working quite intensively the last few months, but that has to remain a mystery until the team is ready to launch 'it'. All this provided the world will NOT stop spinning around by 21.12.12., as predicted by some of our species. If so, I’m glad I took all what I could take in this ending year. </span></span><span style="color: #232323; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0px; text-align: justify;">I hope you did the same and if not (entirely), I hope there will be a new year in a different world to try again, fail again, then try again, but never fail to try (again)! </span><br />
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Frank D'hondthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637163192825970380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1066773482987621004.post-65777723259444382582012-10-03T13:02:00.001-07:002012-10-05T05:33:41.478-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: small;"><i>“Try and fail, but don't fail to try.”</i></span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: small;"><i style="font-weight: normal;">Stephen Kaggwa</i></span></h4>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;">F</span>or those who don't know or remember well, SPARTATHLON is a historic ultra-distance foot race that takes place every year in September in Greece. It is one of the most tough and iconic ultra-distance races in the world because of its course and unique history. </span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">The Spartathlon revives the footsteps of Pheidippides, an ancient Athenian long distance soldier-messenger, who in 490 BC, before the battle of Marathon, was sent to Sparta to seek help in the war between the Greeks and the Persians. According to the ancient Greek historian Herodotus, Pheidippides arrived in Sparta the day after his departure from Athens. Inspired by the report of the Greek historian, in 1982 five officers of the British Royal Air Force (RAF), who were also long-distance runners, traveled to Greece, led by Colonel John Foden. Their purpose was to test whether it was possible to cover the 250 kilometers separating the two towns in one and a half days. The enthusiastic British team showed that the report by Herodotus was entirely plausible, with finishing times under 40 hours.</span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"> After the success of the project, John Foden began to envision the establishment of a race that would bring long distance runners to Greece from around the world to run on the trail of the ancient runner Pheidippides. In 1983 a multinational team of British, Greek and other supporters of the idea organized the First Open International Spartathlon Race, wherein the name for the race combines the Greek words for Sparta and Feat.</span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"> </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Spartathlon route of nearly 250km to be covered in less than one day and a half</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">2012 marked the 30th anniversary of this legendary race and it would prove to become a historical one for the following reasons: </span></h4>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">a) it was probably the hottest and toughest edition </span><span style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">ever, with a merciless sun and temperatures around 35 degrees Celsius, high humidity and hardly wind to ventilate the burning running corpses and legs;</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">b) it turned out to become the edition with the lowest finish rate, with less than 25% (72) of all starting athletes (310) reaching the statue of King Leonidas at Sparta;</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">c) nevertheless a record was broken! The fabulous British Lizzy Hawker finished in 27:02:17</span><span style="color: #333399; font-family: Lucida Sans Unicode, Lucida Grande, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12px;">, </span></span></span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">more than 37' faster than the standing female course record AND a third finishing position overall, shortly after the German winner Thoms Stu and the Japanese Kiso Tetsuo;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">d) of no importance for the race records but all the more for my records: this was the first race I really wanted but DID NOT FINISH (DNF), simply because of the heat. Or maybe not that simple, as I will explain further!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Although I did not run much farther than to the end of the first leg in Istmia, just across the impressive canal of Corinth, it's enough to share some impressions and learn some valuable lessons. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me at the start, flanked by Giorgos Panos (R) and Giogios Zachariadis (L), both finishers at Sparta</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Despite a scrambled tapering period due to an unexpected travel to Belgium and back right before the start of the race, I dressed up Friday morning at 5am, with enough confidence to make it to the </span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">finish. The start at the Acropolis at 7am, surrounded by peers and supporters added some more adrenaline but I kept my coolness not to head out too fast. Only 20km in the race I started to pick up slower runners and really feeling 'fresh' way beyond the first marathon mark of 42,2km. Despite the agonizing course with heavy traffic rushing towards the capital city, there were pleasant moments of chatting with ultra-running friends from all over the world, of whom many from the Olympia Ultra Trail race (180,1km), where I finished 4th in May this year (see Spring Running report). A critical point was the second </span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">uphill, where I 'cracked' during a training run in Mid-August, but this time I could simply keep running while many others were already forced to a brisk walk. Even the point where I've quit my training attempt to reach Corinth, at the 57km mark, I passed with an indestructible feeling. However, by that time the sun was really burning and my core-body temperature was definitely on the rise. Water and sponges were available, as well drinks but all heated up by the sun, so missing the point actually. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me at check-point 11 around the first marathon mark, trying to resist the heat</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Around 60km I BOUGHT a real refreshing soft drink and a bit later another one. However, it felt like trowing cold water on a steaming radiator of an overheated car, thus only producing more steam. My pace gradually decreased and soon I found myself walking hilly as well flat stretches. The sun seemed to shine even harder and I couldn't resist resting a couple of times in the shade of a tree or in a bus shelter. It felt like the sun had poisoned my legs, lungs and heart and the exhaust of cars and refining industries along the course did not help to fight and resist this process. I saw my comfortable margin vis-a-vis the feared cut-off times melting away and volunteers at check-points urged me to keep on going not to miss the strict deadline at CP 22, at 80km distance in the race. The combination of the cut-off stress with soaring heat, burning legs and lunges, aggressive traffic and dull scenery sapped away the last joy of running and negative thoughts were gradually damping out the pool of confidence, up to a point I had to persuade myself to AT LEAST run-walk to CP22. IF I could make it within the cut-off time of 9,5 hours, and IF I might pick-up a second wind just before entering the aid-station, MAYBE I could make it to the next check-point and than see again. So I had to dig deep to keep going and although I was hardly running anymore, there weren't that many runners overtaking anymore, which meant they either had given up already or they would face great difficulty to reach CP22 on time. I hoped for a second wind when I finally crossed the canal of Corinth, a well-known point in the Spartathlon, as well a geographical landmark entering the Peloponnese, the 'homeland' of Sparta. But the wind was of short breath when I entered the devastating motorway leading to CP22. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">When I finally arrived at CP22, at 16h20, I thought I only had 10' left before closing time, too short for a decent recovery as I've had planned before the race. When I realized I couldn't even push down some food and liquids anymore, I know I was doomed - despite the extra time of 30' before closing. N</span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">evertheless my Belgian friends Jan and Marc initially succeeded to get me going again and head out to the next CP. But hardly one 1km </span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">further I felt like a roasted chicken running around without head, and without much thinking (obviously), I could not overrule my feet turning around and RUNNING BACK to CP22, to simply hand over my bib numbers and my chip, which means a definitive end to the race. However I must admit that my brain simply calculated that CP23 or any further simply adds complexity in finding a way out of this race. A more serious calculation was that the heat at 4.30pm was far from </span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">declining and that IF I would make it through the next 3 hours of solar torture, I will have to face it anoth</span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">er 10 to 12 hours the next day, which was an unbearable thought. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">One hour after my decision to surrender, I was lucky to be driven back home by my friend Dimitris, who was actually on his way to support me through the second and third leg of the race. When Dimitris asked me I would retry next year, I simply answered NO WAY. I told him I simply didn't like this race, that the course is far from enjoyable and that the organization of aid-stations and traffic control was far from the standards I am used to in international races. These critical reflections were later mirrored by the first hand assessment of my friend Leonidas, who followed Lizzy Hawker from start to finish (see his blog report on <a href="http://polyenios.blogspot.gr/">http://polyenios.blogspot.gr</a>). Leonidas concluded that the organization of the race should try to improve several aspects so that this race becomes an "ambassador" of Greece to ultrarunning community, more in particular (among others)that the organization should try to control or minimize road traffic (one way traffic, cones, more traffic police), that check points should be accessible only to those involved in the race, and last (but least likely) that the organizers should also consider modifying the course to include some forest/agricultural roads if this would keep the runners out of motorways.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lizzy Hawker on het way to a new female course record and a 3rd position overall</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Leonidas also touched one other cardinal aspect: that of mind over body."</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">This race is the most profound proof that these distances are conquered only with the brain and the heart, and not by physical training only. The real challenge of Spartathlon is not the distance or the strict cut off times. It is the mental and emotional difficulties that each runner has to overcome in order to arrive at Sparta." </span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Leonidas is right on that, but my experience is that its all about the BALANCE and the INTERACTION between legs, heart and brain. If legs are severely cramping due to critical loss of electrolytes, a strong heart or mental focus will probably not </span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">compensate. In my case it was not about cramping but probably a gradual increase in body temperature due to a natural high sweat rate and lack of cooling options at the aid stations. Sweat rate and heat management can be improved by specificity training, but is to a large extent genetically determined. It is my guess that the 72 finishers were not only extremely well prepared but also owe a lot to their ancestors' DNA. Some try to help nature a hand by investing time and money to find specialized gear for running in the heat. I saw some naked torso's - I don't believe this can be helpful - but most runners were 'normally' dressed up while a minority ran with covered limbs, mostly white but some entirely black. Yet, among the finishers they were not disproportional represented so I don't think that this is THE answer or strategy. As with shoes and other auxiliary gear it is probably a very personal and individual issue and quest for what works best for you, mainly by trial and error. Even the placebo-effect can be worth trying different things. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Coming back to the mind over body issue, I was struck by the race feedback from Leonie Van den Haak, a Dutch female runner finishing 8th overall in her debut. I know Leonie as a FB-friend since some months now and I followed her preparation for the race. She's not only gifted as a natural born ultra runner; she's not only training hard and racing often as most of the Spartathlon starters - what made this tiny white runner excelling is probably her mental focus, determination and almost naive enthusiasm. Since her qualification and registration, the Spartathlon was the only thing that mattered and she created a lot of positive pressure around her, including from a mainstream sporting sponsor. Yet, as soon the starting gun went of, she was determined to enjoy every moment of what she wanted to achieve all that time. And she did. The moment she passed me around 60km, the time I was entering the dangerous path of negative thinking, she was still one big smile. The sun was also burning on her skin, yet it didn't seem to bother her - more likely: she didn't want to be distracted by this 'detail'. And because she was able to maintain the positive momentum, she could gradually climb up in the ranking to finish 2nd female after the much more experienced Lizzy Hawker. As a matter of fact, I believe that all 72 finishers could only make it because they did not allow their mind to take stock of the suffering body and simply block out negative thinking. For some of the finishers - some of them I know personally - it was almost a matter of life or death, which is a simple choice for a healthy well trained athlete. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Georgios Zachariadis chased by traffic police to finish last of the 72 finishers, less than 4' before closing time</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">For some, the Spartathlon is nothing less than a kind of pilgrimage or </span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">a journey or search of moral or spiritual significance. Typically, it is a journey to a shrine or other location of importance to a person's beliefs and faith, although sometimes it can be a metaphorical journey in to someone's own beliefs - the place of their "calling" or spiritual awakening. </span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">In mainland Greece, a stream of individuals made their way to Delphi or the oracle of Zeus at Dodona, and once every four years, at the period of the Olympic games, the temple of Zeus at Olympia formed the goal of swarms of pilgrims from every part of the Hellenic world. When Alexander the Great reached Egypt, he put his whole vast enterprise on hold, while he made his way with a small band deep into the Libyan desert, to consult the oracle of Ammun. It is my impression that for some the statue of King Leonidas in Sparta, a historical figure but with no direct relation to Pheidippides or the origins of the Spartathlon, represents a post-modern shrine or oracle. The fact that some also run with a large tattoo of the Spartathlon logo on their calf is probably also a sign of a soul-searching (and finding). That probably also explains why many 'Spartathletes' refuse to criticize the race, although there are plenty of reasons if you consider it objectively. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Andreas Falk from Sweden, realizing to have finished in 5th position in just under 28 hours</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">So, IF I would retry to run from Athens to Sparta on this given course, the single most important strategy will be to immerse myself in the '</span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">beauty' of this 'beast', with the </span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">indestructible</span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"> will of Alexander the Great to consult the oracle of Ammun as a matter of life or death, of victory over defeat. And although I've declared already NOT to come back, the award ceremony and some incremental introspective thinking are pushing the needle back to a MAYBE. IF I'm able to get the mental focus sharper than ever before on REACHING SPARTA, then "maybe" will probably become ...PROBABLY. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">For the time being I will now focus on the remaining task for this running season, to complete the last leg of Pheidippides epic runs, from Marathononas to Athens, in other words the Athens Classic Marathon, on Sunday 11 November. Finishing should not be a real issue, since it will be the sixth consecutive time I'll run this race. Finishing as fast as possible after a transition year from marathon to ultra-marathon running; that will remain a challenge. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><i>Frank D'hondt</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><i>Athens</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><i>3 October 2012</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: x-small;">PS: my sincere congratulations to all finishers of Spartathlon 2012, including two of the seven participating Belgian compatriots, Stefaan D'Espallier(39th)and Rony Jansen(60th).</span></div>
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Frank D'hondthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637163192825970380noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1066773482987621004.post-75407132188075722462012-09-20T23:27:00.004-07:002012-09-21T10:29:56.669-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><b><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: x-large;">SPARTAN TRAINING</span></b></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Preparing for the Spartathlon</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; letter-spacing: 0px;">On Sunday 11 September I didn't think too much about the Twin Towers or the Pentagon.My first concern was how to get to the starting line of the Jungfrau Marathon, in Interlaken. When I booked a bed in the Grindelwaldblick mountain hut, close the finish of the marathon, I didn't know that the first train down from Kleine Scheidegg was only at 8am with arrival at 9.24 in Interlaken, 24’ after the start gun would go off. So I got up early to descend by running but luckily the local postman on a quad motorbike spotted me and gave me a ride to Wengen, where a Swedish couple gave me a comfortable ride to the starting line. So I had plenty of energy when the race started and managed to run the first half in a decent 1:40, including a few hundred meters of ascent.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; letter-spacing: 0px;">But then steeper hills and slopes forced me to a run/walk strategy to avoid blowing up the engine too soon, also taking into account the sun and mounting heat - it was a real summer day while the previous week there was rain and snow. With increasing effort the landscape became more rewarding so the time was flying. Distance markers were placed at every 250m which - to my surprise - helped even more in moving fast forward. Nevertheless, the very steep glacier moraines towards the end slowed me - as most of the runners around me - down to a brisk walking pace, so time was piling up. When I reached the summit, I could see the finish line and switch on my turbo for a fast last k, taking back many runners with more vertical speed. In sight of </span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; letter-spacing: 0px;">the line, I closed the gap with a local runner called Max, but Max didn't let go and picked up the pace.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; letter-spacing: 0px;">We ended sprinting full-out and we needed some strong guys to hold us from crashing beyond the finish line. I won the sprint for the 413th position (on nearly 4000 participants), in a time of 4:22:57. Not a great time compared to the winning time of 2:59 (how on earth did he do that), but OK he was crowned World Champion Mountain Running 2012 and I did it as a last advanced training for the Spartathlon. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; letter-spacing: 0px;">After a refreshing shower, a couple of beers and even a hot dog with sauerkraut, I added a recovery walk/run of 10km down to Grindelwald (but back up with the last train). Next day I woke up without soreness and took the first train to the Jungfraujoch, the highest public train station of Europe, at 3.454m or 11.333ft, topped up by the Sphinx Observatory to 3.571m. This visionary rail-project was already ‘sketched’ in 1893 and opened on 1 August 1912, just over 100 years ago! The train goes straight into the Eiger, the iconic mountain with its brutally steep north-face, the locus of many mountaineering victories and drama’s. I like running mountains and I even don't mind falling but I’m not tempted to climb with hooks and ropes, with a fatal fall only one small mistake away. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQMsst0_t7MJ3Pp3-I5dVvSpuXv3fn4O7zBngztHS4r9JAk099dv-moaQCm1yETr_kSDd2p2rAZqn5VHVXxrExLxzq4-pyf6ByjrOkeFoFlbStI7QSEYrDpUhVR1i9VSFnH4g-cAtuWlU/s1600/IMG_3866.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQMsst0_t7MJ3Pp3-I5dVvSpuXv3fn4O7zBngztHS4r9JAk099dv-moaQCm1yETr_kSDd2p2rAZqn5VHVXxrExLxzq4-pyf6ByjrOkeFoFlbStI7QSEYrDpUhVR1i9VSFnH4g-cAtuWlU/s320/IMG_3866.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; letter-spacing: 0px;">Once up at Jungfraujoch, an arctic underground theme-park ‘Alpine Sensation’ is neatly laid-out for the thousands of visitors, daily. Luckily there is an exit to enjoy the natural beauty of the glacier and the impressive snow and ice capped peaks of the Eiger, Mönch and of course the Jungfrau, with its 4.158m the highest of the three. There was no point in going up there, but there was a nice glacier ‘path’ to the impressive Mönchsjochhutte at 3.650m altitude and I decided to run it. I was positively surprised that running a 5k at this altitude is well possible, but only with a high fitness level, as my fellow-countryman, who also finished the marathon the previous day, experienced to the extent he was forced to return to lower altitude. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; letter-spacing: 0px;">On the way back with the train I stepped of the train at the station Eigergletscher and ran down for another few k’s and 300 vertical meters, with a very rewarding pause at a glacial lake with bubbling ice-water; the perfect ice-bath for feet and lower limbs. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; letter-spacing: 0px;">All in all, the Jungfrau marathon was a great experience, thanks to the fantastic weather conditions, the perfect organization and of course the natural setting of green meadows, forests, mountain villages and impressive peaks and glaciers. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy39BrWVt2EM5ALBMdlXW_9zbJG4QFjZP5LoHMt9QhDP_RHA2VTId_GM0OlPf44BvElf_IwgggumriLk4cB_qXYnL1cWLXiHA_vgd9yKpn0cCi8WNkP6fVC-ZLU48Tj1FO2ZKJYF2V86E/s1600/409514_257753460964365_907404221_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy39BrWVt2EM5ALBMdlXW_9zbJG4QFjZP5LoHMt9QhDP_RHA2VTId_GM0OlPf44BvElf_IwgggumriLk4cB_qXYnL1cWLXiHA_vgd9yKpn0cCi8WNkP6fVC-ZLU48Tj1FO2ZKJYF2V86E/s320/409514_257753460964365_907404221_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The Jungfrau marathon was a far better experience than the 100km Olympus Mythical Trail on 7 July, a grueling mountain-trail-race to and around the summit of Greece’s highest mountain (2917m), with 7000m elevation gain in total. Compared to that race, JM is an easy piece of cake! OMT was actually the first race ever I DNF-ed, a feared term among runners meaning Did Not Finish. I’ve quit the race after 62km and 12 hours or so, on raw soles and battered legs. Around 200 experienced mountain runners started this inaugural race at 1am, in rather hot and very humid conditions (I was already sweating before having started). I ran well the first 30-40km and moved up to the leading pack of 20-25 runners. But slightly oversized shoes and single layer socks were the wrong answer to the agonizing conditions of the mountain track, if any. Around 50k my legs and stomach were screaming too, probably due to sweating out too many salts and reaching an alarming state of dehydration, with temperatures weigh above 30C. When I started to hallucinate and see non existing aid stations, I sensed it was pointless to run another 40k and 2000 more vertical meters, which took most other runners between 10 to 14 hours more to cross the finish line (in the middle of the night). Yet, when I noticed that many runners took a recovery-break of one to several hours at the 66km check-point; as well considering that I also recovered well after a while, I probably could finish too, but with the risk of losing the joy of running altogether. On the other hand I was not unhappy to have found my limit and instinctively I know that I will have to push that limit if I want to finish the Spartathlon race end of September. I also learned that running in heat is stressing my body and brain more than I can absorb, so I would have to train more in the heat to make a chance to get through the first leg of the Spartathlon, often facing soaring temperatures. </span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; letter-spacing: 0px;">On contrary, when I started the marathon of Torhout on 22 June, better known as the ‘fabulous’ Night of Flanders, and having no intention to run fast so close to the OMT, the cool weather allowed my feet to move at a fairly fast pace, with a 1:28 at the halfway mark, and than slowed down by a strong headwind but still finishing the ‘training’ race in a decent 3:06:33, my average marathon time this year - so far. Apart from the time I was happy to have ran with some of Belgium's finest ultra-runners.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; letter-spacing: 0px;">‘Luckily’, there was no shortage of chances to run in more hot conditions after the defying OMT. Finishing my multiple year mission in Kosovo, I returned home on 15 July and when I arrived in Athens the thermometer was peaking 41 degrees Celcius, followed by more bloody hot days and nights. Due to over-exposure to airco’s I fell ill for the first time in very long; probably also a reaction to some hard working weeks and the packing and moving out. </span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; letter-spacing: 0px;">Soon came the time to travel to Mesta, on the mastic island of Chios, where we enjoy our yearly summer holidays and where we would baptize our daughter on the 29th of July. In Chios I resumed running, often combined with swimming in pristine bays. On most of these swim/runs I was happy to have my Belgian running friend Lowie as sparring partner, especially for the ‘great Chios run’ criss-crossing half of the island and covering a distance of 77,5 km and 3.200 vertical meters, under a burning sun and 35 degrees. Again I faced problems with the heat, but this time I poured much more water and isotonic liquids into my system.</span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Two weeks later I would attempt another ‘great Chios run’ of about the same distance, but suffered much more due to hot and heavy winds, as well the smoke of fast-spreading wildfire that would destroy or damage a bigger part of the southern half of the island - known as the Chios tragedy (with 15.000 hectares of lost forest and cultivation land with world unique mastic trees, causing a massive environmental, cultural and economical disaster to the island and its population).</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJn-zIZTIS8MXI1HxOZ-wvYyn-EikxDjo7E-2QBgbJm_6ep4wrcqiuJARQjI4g0GNgxhTQYBf-ZVsdMJlrFchTGagTZMm0rANRE4_uTVXJdwLAFj0HQqxBBE8dzyRqrRJuZEc50gTsKpE/s1600/229188_491127160915580_2083518239_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJn-zIZTIS8MXI1HxOZ-wvYyn-EikxDjo7E-2QBgbJm_6ep4wrcqiuJARQjI4g0GNgxhTQYBf-ZVsdMJlrFchTGagTZMm0rANRE4_uTVXJdwLAFj0HQqxBBE8dzyRqrRJuZEc50gTsKpE/s320/229188_491127160915580_2083518239_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">In between I had the ‘smart’ idea to run the first leg of the Spartathlon, from the </span>Acropolis<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> in Athens to the famous canal of Corinth, 81 km. Two local running friends joined and the first 30-40k went pretty easy. But slowly my brain turned sun-boiled and my legs sun-fried; with a break-down around the 50k-mark. The vista of a turquoise blue sea with a sea-turtle and bathing folks broke my mental resistance completely and I surrendered to a refreshing swim and a walk to the next railway-station at the 57 k mark, while the real tough guys continued and completed the distance. </span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Again a lesson in humility! I’ve had to fear for the worse if my Sparta-race would end the same as my Spartan training! On the other hand, one can learn more from mistakes than from successes only. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Benefiting from mistakes and failures I also what learned from reading stories and books such as ‘Why we run’ from Robin Harvie and ‘Eat & Run’ from ultramarathon greatness Scott Jurek. Interestingly, both authors ran the Spartathlon. Harvie had to DNF after 17 hours and 136 km, while Jurek participated three times and WON three times (2006-2008). </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Whilst the professional runner Jurek is probably more gifted or talented than the recreational (but obsessive) runner Harvie, Jureks key to finish and win ultra-races is his mental strength rather than his physical strength (only). A strength to push the limits where other runners see no space anymore. To accept lows (and very lows) and gradually climb out of them without panicking. To break down and stand up again. To continue where ‘normal’ people say ‘enough is enough’. Therefore it’s no coincidence that Jurek’s delicious book - full of recipes for healthy running and eating - opens with a quote from William James, a pioneering American psychologist and philosopher who was trained as a physician.</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">“Beyond the very extreme of fatigue and distress, we may find amounts of ease and power we never dreamed ourselves to own; sources of strength never taxed at all because we never push through the obstruction.”</span></i></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">In his account of his second Spartathlon victory (running on a broken toe), Scott Jurek writes the following:</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">“What [are] my limits? And how could I discover them unless I tried to go beyond them? (...) It’s a question that every ultrarunner and anyone lucky enough to reach for something outside her comfort zone can ask - and answer - herself.“</span></i></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">If this ‘borrowed wisdom’ will be enough to get me through the lows and run beyond exhaustion is to be seen and experienced. I will give it my best shot on 28/29 September and I feel lucky that I am allowed to start in the 30th edition of one of world’s toughest ultra-races, or to say it with Jurek’s words: to reach for something outside my comfort zone! King Leonidas, here I come!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Cracked; font-size: 18px; letter-spacing: 0px;">Frank D’hondt,</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">20.09.’12, </span></div>
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Frank D'hondthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637163192825970380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1066773482987621004.post-13421306863319976162012-05-27T15:08:00.000-07:002012-05-31T07:18:38.812-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Yes, I can! I can run 180 kilometers or 112 miles with no stops longer than a couple of minutes, including an elevation gain of 3.700 meters or 12.000 feet. On 19 May at 10:46am, after 20 hours and 16 minutes of running, I happily crossed the finish line of the historical “Olympia Race”. A unique and internationally certified ultra-race connecting the two biggest stadiums of Ancient Greece, from Ancient Nemea to Ancient Olympia, with its eternal Olympic flame, now on its way to London. So far, my longest run was 100km, 3 months ago in Psatha-Alepochori (see my Winter Running Report). On the last day of March, at the old airport of Athens, I tried to run my first 24 hour race in which the athlete tries to cover as much distance as possible. However I ‘dropped out'<span style="font-size: xx-small;">(1)</span></span><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"> after about 12 hours and 100km or so, due to knee-pain and a lack of motivation to break through the pain barrier, as I did during the Olympia Race, which is a point-to-point race in a (literally) Arcadian landscape, with no comparison to the concrete ‘desert’ of the 600m lap at Ellenikon airport, the scene of the 24 hour race. The magical Olympic stadium of Olympia worked as a huge magnet to keep me going and pull me to the finish line, right in front of the most historic running track in human history. I do not entirely exclude the possibility of running another 24 hour race (or for good measure a 48 or 72 hour race), but I will have to trick my mind to keep going that long, lap after lap.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Further in the preparation of my first ‘real’ ultramarathon - according to ultrarunning legend Yiannis Kouros, anything below 12 hours of running is not to be considered as ‘ultra’ - and since my Limassol marathon in Cyprus (see Winter Running Report), I also ran the Antwerp marathon (in 3:05) as well as two half marathons, both in Athens in around 1:30. Of course I’ve kept on training nearly daily and threw in a couple of so called Back-to-Back runs - basically a long run on Saturday, followed by another long run on Sunday - but I never exceeded lets say 100km of training per week, which is my ‘normal’ peak training for ‘normal’ marathon racing. In other words, apart from the 100km races, I didn't train excessively more miles than usual, while I tried to keep up with some interval and tempo-training in order not to entirely lose raw leg speed. So in the weeks leading up to the Olympia Race I felt rather undertrained in terms of endurance, but I knew this was to be preferred than being overtrained towards race-day. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPxkXIBiGNCueDIHhKHzHFemIQOaIjt19sb2Pl308UHgspB_sddEM5pvixA7mtPDl2tRxo4c8NYBHY6seMKYow2yBGnlQNrIvCZK7H02YzSsSKPh1q24y7S_dOKF3sZgJaXHof-pX9Mls/s1600/IMG_4079.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: right; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPxkXIBiGNCueDIHhKHzHFemIQOaIjt19sb2Pl308UHgspB_sddEM5pvixA7mtPDl2tRxo4c8NYBHY6seMKYow2yBGnlQNrIvCZK7H02YzSsSKPh1q24y7S_dOKF3sZgJaXHof-pX9Mls/s320/IMG_4079.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">So on raceday, 18 May, with fresh legs but uncertain about the feasibility of running that far, I headed to Ancient Nemea, together with 82 runners competing for the 180km race and another 80 or so aiming for the ‘fun-run’ of 62km. While most participants were Greek, 13 other nations were represented, mostly European countries as well as from the USA, Israel and even from Hong Kong/China. I was the only Belgian runner, although I was wearing my Greek club-shirt of “Grigora Kordonia” (“Fast Laces”). In the last edition of the Olympia Race (2010) a Belgian ultrarunner, Wouter Hamelinck, finished 3rd in 22:51. A ranking and time I could only dream of before the start…</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6qOFr-SvhxvgTkwCQiyo0PBkb433uaQrYvY7wIb81AZMOjbTQYwv2FC24Nj1AMnUY-WfjgQOr6eBUTcCpBn-j94-r5DLZ0NYx2jD5I9LBAOl8ih-Ywm39VVFBO5FwVQE1lcopM19cJIg/s1600/536323_441524069193231_100000069256008_1672654_1970978546_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6qOFr-SvhxvgTkwCQiyo0PBkb433uaQrYvY7wIb81AZMOjbTQYwv2FC24Nj1AMnUY-WfjgQOr6eBUTcCpBn-j94-r5DLZ0NYx2jD5I9LBAOl8ih-Ywm39VVFBO5FwVQE1lcopM19cJIg/s320/536323_441524069193231_100000069256008_1672654_1970978546_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">After a joint lunch and final briefing all runners gathered in the Ancient Olympic stadium of Nemea, where the first games and runs took place in 573 BC, and with a capacity of around 40.000 spectators. After listening to the Greek national anthem, runners were called one by one to line up. At 2:30pm sharp, we started our epic race, albeit with less spectators and soon leaving the stadium behind us. The tension in my calves soon disappeared and the running became more smoothly mile after mile. The weather was ideal - at least for me: overcast and cool temperatures of around 16 degrees Celsius; unusually low for the time of year. We ran the first 20 km or so on a smooth asphalt road through the famous vineyards of Nemea, one of Greece’s finest wine areas. I knew I had to keep a conservative pace but I find it difficult and rather unnatural to run at a pace below 5:00 per km, or 12 km/h. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">After the first 20km, a trail section took us to the top of a hill from where we could enjoy impressive views over a small valley with crops and wild flowers. More dirt tracks followed, of which some rather challenging and climbing to the Olighyrtos Mountain pass at 1.200m altitude, where my friend Dimitris from the organizing committee (and our running club) greeted me. Then there was a fast downhill section to Kandila and CP4 at 48km. From there on a long asphalt road leading to the first big station, the village of Levidi, CP7 after 62km and at 1000m altitude. I arrived in lovely Levidi after 6 hours running in a surprising 4th position; still feeling relatively fresh and strong. Dimitris was very helpful in changing my running gear for the night and I ‘savored’ a plate of pasta with yoghurt, while being massaged by 4 hands while standing. This all took no longer than 5 minutes after which I headed out for the night and to the mountains ahead. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicFkX-DmkKJO8MATAncZZYB-6c0Rh9vuayiStIffI3qZ1voY21Bkrt0Bu29MFQwru7sBL9mFEzL-C9GWcIfsNgDLAXCysnjC9dwPT-d6qqoOdD2ICTo8T1ucAazwOjyBySWV3yKEYBF5w/s1600/IMG_1951.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicFkX-DmkKJO8MATAncZZYB-6c0Rh9vuayiStIffI3qZ1voY21Bkrt0Bu29MFQwru7sBL9mFEzL-C9GWcIfsNgDLAXCysnjC9dwPT-d6qqoOdD2ICTo8T1ucAazwOjyBySWV3yKEYBF5w/s320/IMG_1951.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Crossing Mount Menalo and 23 km to the next Check-Point was quite an intimidating challenge after 62km of non-stop running, but I decided to ‘take it as it comes’. While hiking the steeper uphill sections in total darkness and with only my flashlight as companion, I was actually happy to hear 4 faster runners nearing me. They were clearly more experienced ultrarunners and I took the risk to follow and mimic their running style by alternating running and walking on the ascent to Mount Menalo up to 1400m. Yet, three of them were too fast for me and I saw them fading away in the darkness. On the descent to Vytina I was on my own again and was delighted to find my way to CP8 at 84,4 km; leaving the aid-station while spooning a delicious ‘fat’ local yoghurt to keep a base in my stomach. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Once out of the village, glowing light sticks in trees were the only visible markers to find our way, now heading to Magouliana, the highest village of the Peloponnese at 1450 m. It was now getting cold with temperatures dropping as low as 5-6C, so it was time to put on my windproof jacket and gloves. I came through CP9 at 97k in 9:58, still at a good pace and in relatively good shape, however ‘only’ just over halfway. At that point it’s hard to believe you have to keep your legs and feet going for another 83km, so its crucial to think mainly about getting to the next CP. Easier said than done as there was another long unsupported section of 19km between CP 10 and CP 11. It turned out to be one of the longest 19km ever in my running life; it seemed endless and I never felt so lonely on a completely bare mountain with a narrow track full of pebbles and rocks, yet accompanied by billions of stars. It was too cold to drink or eat with a stomach in sleeping mode, and I had to force myself to eat at least some of the tasty and fresh Santorini tomatino’s I had brought with me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">It was 4 in the morning when I finally reached the outskirts of Perdikoneri village, and I thought I was hallucinating when I saw a tall figure with open arms running towards me. Dimitris! My friend also happens to be responsible for CP11, 124 km or two-thirds into the race. He’s the savior of many runners arriving there! Once more he helped me with refueling and changing gear, this time including fresh socks and shoes. This took a while and required some sitting, but I thought it was important to keep the feet dry and blister-free, which is far from evident in my case (but it worked!). </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">I anticipated that the last third would be the most difficult part, as I entered completely unknown territory, far beyond my ‘previous’ limits and still many challenging tracks ahead before Olympia. It was good to hear that the next CP was only 3km ahead, so I would certainly make it to that point, and then would see again. At CP12 I asked for a hot tea but it was so hot I had to carry it with me, not to loose precious time. It’s quite a challenge to drink a hot tea while running downhill, believe me. Local people take care of these invaluable aid-stations and have to be praised for their free-of-charge services and support. From there a rough track led to Doxa and further on an easy and charming asphalt stretch I got to Kastraki, CP15 at 145 km. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"></span> <span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Just before the fading of my headlight, a new day started to dawn which recharged my mental batteries to keep me running. I was getting more and more amazed with my own body and mind, as I still had no urge to walk anything other than steep ascents. Just out of the village a trail led to the river Erymantos, hidden by a nebulous bubble due to contact with the cold early morning air. To my great surprise, I over-took two of the three runners that had passed me on Mount Megalos, 70km ago; these were two German runners that had won previous editions of this race. I couldn’t believe it and I guessed that they would probably over-take me again before the finish line. However, I still felt strong and started to believe I could also get back to the third runner who overtook me on Mount Megalo. And indeed, just before crossing the river, I saw him - Konstandinos - on the other side of the second river bank. Just before CP16 in Koklama, I over-too him but at CP16 I had a drop-bag with another pair of dry socks and my beloved minimalist Nike Free 3 shoes - in the (wrong) assumption the last section would be smooth asphalt - to get me through the last 30km. It took me quite a while to change and by that time Dinos, in fourth position, was again out of sight. I had to dig deep to catch up again and for a while we played Tom and Jerry. Sensing that this was a tricky game that far in the race, we silently ‘agreed’ to support each other for the last 25 km, as the distance was stretching out towards the end and the sun started heating up the air and our brains. I believe it was the right decision, as the last 20km were far from easy going; to the contrary. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">A long muddy and hilly trail was a real ‘pain in the ass’, especially for the screaming quads that suffered already too many downhill runs. Only our joined will-power propelled us forward and we kept on running relentlessly when not ascending. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">After what see endless we finally reached Mouria, the fore-last CP at 175km. Less than 5km to go but on dead legs and under an increasingly hot sun. More will-power was needed to get those legs running once more after a last pit-stop, but we could still squeeze out a pace of around 5mins per km, or 12km/h, step-by-step closing the gap to the magical finish line at the entrance of world’s most famous running stadium, in 20 hours and 16 minutes, with my feet crossing the line some feet in front of my co-finisher Dinos, placing respectively 4th and 5th, less than 2 hours after the iron-man winner, Stergios Anastasiadis. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Due to another joint-finish of the second and third runner, we were both ranked at position 3. Very rewarding and simply amazing! I started the race with no other ambition than to finish and maybe to finish in around 24 hours, and could simply not imagine to finish on the podium in a time 8 hours in advance of the cut-off time. The crowning with a wild olive tree wreath, the same as for the ancient Olympic victors, made me feel like a modern Olympian athlete. </span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Aethlios was the first king of Ilis, an area of ancient Olympia, son of Zeus and Protogenia. Aethlios became the protector of the races in Olympia and from his name came the word ‘athlete’ to define the endless endeavor of man to conquer his natural barriers. That day in May, at the Holy Temple of Athleticism, I certainly pushed my limits far beyond my own imagination and dared to believe that I could run beyond this new barrier. </span><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Out of the 83 Olympia runners, 58 finished within the 28 hour time-span. The previous winners finished nearly one hour later than Dinos and I did, and only 13 runners finished below 24 hour, of which the first female runner, Amalia. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">The award ceremony, the 4-star hotel with swimming pool, the dinner and the visit to the Olympia museums and a winery in Nemea over the following days were all very nice, but my supreme moment of joy was the popular party in the town-hall of Nemea with local food, wine, dance and above all my wife and daughter, my foremost important power-stations. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Stiffness in the legs only lasted for 2 days and I resumed light training on day 3. A good race apparently results in a smooth recovery. Although knee-pain occurred about halfway into the race, knee-support helped me through and it didn't cause any lasting injury. It was good to be prepared for the worst to happen, including pre-taping my feet to keep them blister-free, which - to my sheer joy - worked very well, even better than in most of my ‘normal’ marathons and certainly better than in my first 100km race. Another lesson learned was that it’s good to run according to your feeling and not according to an anticipated race-strategy or race-pace. I also learned that heading out pretty fast does not necessarily have to backfire later in the race, as long as you take it relatively easy on the uphill sections. Although I intended to run with a heart-monitor, I was actually lucky that I took it off just before the race, as the battery was depleted. Wearing the monitor, I might have been over-cautious and may have unnecessarily held back or become stressed about a low heart-rate. Nutrition-wise - a big concern during my previous ‘ultra’s - I finally found a better balance between isotonic drinks and ‘real’ food such as pasta, tomatoes and the ever-delicious Greek yoghurt, even in the middle of the night. Also, water with gas and coke helped to trigger the stomach. Candied ginger helped to calm my gut when needed. The only point of further attention is the upper body, with too much tension in my neck, shoulders and lower back, so I should learn to run more relaxed and loosen up from time to time. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Running a real ultra is so much more than running a race; its more like a journey, paraphrasing the great Dutch ultrarunner Jan Knippenberg. A journey to discover the Arcadian landscapes, as well a journey to discover your own body- and mindscapes. Ultra-running definitely requires a healthy - if not a slightly obsessive - mind to command a well trained body. I believe this is the true spirit of an Olympian athlete, ancient and modern.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiacKFNDxJl6nK3mioDnmPUTm_pevwBQsQAbSw-vHhxTpa6qGDzVQdPIi3bjjjaGI8nnPwhMFswee55qPyW-6dHZBgO10sQXXl0J_dKttgJn-PHKpaELEN2qBiHNlUtJDETFfWS5jfDKkI/s1600/Olympos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiacKFNDxJl6nK3mioDnmPUTm_pevwBQsQAbSw-vHhxTpa6qGDzVQdPIi3bjjjaGI8nnPwhMFswee55qPyW-6dHZBgO10sQXXl0J_dKttgJn-PHKpaELEN2qBiHNlUtJDETFfWS5jfDKkI/s320/Olympos.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">As I already said, I resumed training for my next goals. On 22 June I will run the marathon of Torhout, better known as the ‘fabulous’ Night of Flanders, with also a ‘popular’ and fast (but sadly "last") 100km run. Although I’m tempted to run the famous 100km of the Night of Flanders, I will save my energy for the 100km Olympus Mythical Trail on 7 July, a grueling mountain-trail-race to and around the summit of Greece’s highest mountain (2917m), with 6700m elevation gain in total. This one might turn out to be more challenging than the Olympia race. Only mighty Zeus knows as I will be among the first humans to try it (first-time race). Check it out on </span><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">I just hope I will be timely recovered for the baptism of our baby girl on 29 July in Mesta/Chios. On 9 September I will compete in the Jungfrau-marathon in Switzerland, as the last training before the ultimate challenge of this running season, the Spartathlon on 28 September, which according to many is “the toughest race on earth”, covering 246km in a maximum of 36 hours. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Zeus, here I come! </span><br />
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><strong>Frankly Runner</strong></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">PS: special credits go to the organizers of this great Olympia Race and in particular to Sotiris, Anastasia and Vicky; to Jan from the International Association for Ultrarunning (IAU)- not only for their positive energy throughout this event but also for a great race photos; to my friend Dimitris and other running friends of Grigora Kordonia (“Fast Laces”) for their support; to the new friends I have made during this race - Chris and Dinos in particular - and last but not least to my family for their endless support. <span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></span></div>
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<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1066773482987621004#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1;" title=""><sup><sup><span style="color: black; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">[1]</span></sup></sup></a><span style="font-size: x-small;"> Interestingly, technically you don’t drop out of a 24 hour race as the only thing that counts is the distance covered in 24 hours, no matter how long you actually run. That’s why I also ended up in the ‘finishers’ with ‘only’ 96,5 km, but which still placed me far away from the last place. As a matter of fact, I ran the first 60km or so in the first position; a clear indication of heading out too fast, also given the sun and heat during the first 6 hours of the race. At least there was a lot to learn from this event. <span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></span></div>
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</div>Frank D'hondthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637163192825970380noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1066773482987621004.post-71264823790396799642012-04-10T13:39:00.001-07:002012-04-10T13:39:03.252-07:00Surviving Your First Hundred – Part 1: Preparation<a href="http://www.irunfar.com/2012/04/surviving-your-first-hundred-part-1-preparation.html#.T4SaWAY04Y8.blogger">Surviving Your First Hundred – Part 1: Preparation</a>Frank D'hondthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637163192825970380noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1066773482987621004.post-72149067604597679342012-03-26T02:50:00.003-07:002012-03-28T02:33:57.651-07:00Winter Running Report<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJOgcRgUSKEOOb4MVLmTZzcc8leNMB2YFzPF-Mfapy24zQpZDlCCO05FB6H_-BcKQee8yM3ng_8RqTJTJ6Th8ONSh_Pos-cU6jxlM9V-dHrqv0aGsiyvxe_zgdQ-Hn7rcMa4VeIfm3ZLg/s1600/296288_254790117897197_113859451990265_726821_1420099276_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="325" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJOgcRgUSKEOOb4MVLmTZzcc8leNMB2YFzPF-Mfapy24zQpZDlCCO05FB6H_-BcKQee8yM3ng_8RqTJTJ6Th8ONSh_Pos-cU6jxlM9V-dHrqv0aGsiyvxe_zgdQ-Hn7rcMa4VeIfm3ZLg/s400/296288_254790117897197_113859451990265_726821_1420099276_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">After an intensive year of running and racing I gave my feet a short race-break early this year. Not that I paused running all-together, I just cant! I now run all-year-round but at least try to respect some ‘phasing’ by pushing the ‘restart’ button and rebuild from ‘base’. This also entails more cross-training and some weight- and resistance training as well. It also provides a good momentum to refresh the running focus and ambitions for the next running season. In my last Running Diary I’ve already expressed my ambition to push for a new breakthrough in ultra-running this year, with the 246 km long Spartathlon as ultimate goal; if not this year, next year for sure, as you have to qualify to apply for entry. </span><br />
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</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">January was a rather challenging training month due to harsh winter conditions in Kosovo, where I work, and even at home in Athens - suffering not only an unseen crisis but also a cold and long winter. Yet, I was lucky to run already a first half marathon in ...sunny and mild Belgium - on 14 January! The race was co-organized by my friend Luc, who is my role-model for the Spartathlon, as he finished this epic race already 3 times in a row and last year even in 19th position. The race took place in the very north of Flanders, close the Dutch border, partly on road and partly on a trail along the typical canals (‘kreken’) over there. Finished the race in 1:26 and something; not my fastest but a decent time to ‘kick-off’ the new running season. A good reason to celebrate and surrender to the traditional meal in that region - eel stew with green herbs - accompanied by good wine and company, including Master Luc and some of his running friends. Not difficult to guess what we talked about...</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7E0prjilX1UihWAuMcRuVMBOp3Cuj6i_DrcZCzlLe3K_IW567BTsdyj5XGxx3avWKoKGT_-LWFX3lZZgc1ChIG9AUpXCNGKbtaUfXGocW_VikP3vVSQq6ULr8mfAuZtdl1S1t6P8t27Q/s1600/IMG_3005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="338" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7E0prjilX1UihWAuMcRuVMBOp3Cuj6i_DrcZCzlLe3K_IW567BTsdyj5XGxx3avWKoKGT_-LWFX3lZZgc1ChIG9AUpXCNGKbtaUfXGocW_VikP3vVSQq6ULr8mfAuZtdl1S1t6P8t27Q/s400/IMG_3005.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">Upon arrival back home in Athens, I received confirmation for my participation in the Psatha-Alepochori race on 18 February, just one month later! This race is considered as the Greek championship on the 50 and 100 km. I signed up for the 100k as this happen to be a qualifying race for the Spartathlon, provided a finish-time below 10 hours 30’. I couldn’t dream a better motivation! So I started reading books and articles on how to prepare and train for a 100k race, including rereading some chapters of Bern Heinrich’s classic novel “Why we run”, when he was preparing for his legendary 100k back in 1981 in Chicago. So-called ‘back-to-back’ runs ( B2B) soon became my key workouts for the weeks to come. B2B means that you run a fairly paced long run on e.g. Saturday (between 30-40k) and another but slower long run the following day (between 20-30k), to get used to the abuse of body and mind! Whilst in ‘arctic’ Kosovo I logged a memorable 120k indoor running week culminating in 44k on the treadmill on Saturday followed by another 22k next morning, again on this rubber band. The only trouble I suffered was the chafing of my short to my inner thighs! </span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />
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<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: small;">Soon came the day of truth. My preparation time for a 100k was far too short (should be at least 16 weeks, not 4!) and I had hardly chance to run long miles on asphalt. So, with some doubts we - me and my two best fans (spouse and daughter) - headed to Korinthos to stay overnight at friends in beautiful Loutraki. Early morning before sunrise I had to navigate the car over a mountain pass to get to the starting line in Psatha. I made it just in time and 30’ later I found myself at he starting line of the Greek championship 50/100k, being one of the few if not the only ‘foreigner’ (but running for my Greek running club ‘Grigora Kordonia’ - ‘Fast Laces’). The weather was cool but the sun pushed the mercury with the hour. The course was along the seashore and thus mostly flat. The only set-back was the looping of 10 times the same 10k! The first 4 loops are okay but gradually it becomes a very mental thing to stay focused after every ‘turning point’, especially when crossing the ‘finish-line’ for the 5th, 6th, ...time. Soon I realized I took of with a too high pace, around 12km/h, not realizing I was running among mainly 50k runners. Once they finished my pace dropped but not steep. I was still running pretty strong in the 6th lap, yet feared a breakdown in the final four laps. Although body and mind signaled growing fatigue, the breakdown did not happen, luckily. The 7th and 8th lap proved to be the most taxing ones but thanks to the moral support of my two big fans, from running friend and marathon queen Philippa and last but not least from the race directors of Olympia Trail and the Spartathlon, I pushed through the wall of pain for the last two laps and even overtook two runners, finishing 7th overall in 8:57:20. Winning a cup for this position was nice but hearing from the aforementioned race-directors I performed well and could expect entry-confirmation for both the O- and S-race. Mission accomplished!</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkCI5wDUsBCD0Lxri6DuXFcHt733ZF-2-JiIuA2nisD2xdzfVduqLkO-MfJBM0DUQhNPIPHLZontN71nUuN5nLAI1c3ZWM_cWd7noPIINZNyDNYw4TKx6PhRZUN8RhY0V4G5mw633Wh1k/s1600/IMG_3501.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkCI5wDUsBCD0Lxri6DuXFcHt733ZF-2-JiIuA2nisD2xdzfVduqLkO-MfJBM0DUQhNPIPHLZontN71nUuN5nLAI1c3ZWM_cWd7noPIINZNyDNYw4TKx6PhRZUN8RhY0V4G5mw633Wh1k/s400/IMG_3501.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: small;">My mind was overwhelmed but my body ached. Sore legs were normal but my stomach was so upset that i could not drink or eat, while the ride back over the mountain pass made me feel so nauseated and hypothermic that I went straight to bed with all my dirty running clothes and several covers to keep me warm. Only some hours later I was able to appreciate the grilled lamb-chops and a beer, kindly provided by our hosts. Next day we all enjoyed the sunny waterfront of Loutraki, as well a great lunch in a local taverna. I finally recovered but the nausea I experienced right after the race alerted me to develop a better fueling strategy for the longer-distance races ahead. I might be able to finish a 100k on mainly isotonic drinks and some slices of banana and orange, but for any distance beyond I will need more fuel to keep the engine going. Lesson learned! Or better: lesson to be learned in practice, as - in my 100k euphoric mood - I decided to sign up for an unforeseen new challenge: my first 24 hour race (see further)!</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">Other lesson I had to learn is how long body and mind need for complete recovery after a 100k. Can I just continue with my training plan or should I push the pause button for a while I decided to go by feel and three days later I ran a comfortable 20k on the slopes of Ymittos mountain in the neighborhood. That day I realized I was less than 4 weeks apart from my next race, the Limassol marathon in Cyprus, on 18 March. To test my ‘marathon-speed’ I also signed up for the Athens 20k on 4 March. Finished that race in 1:25:16; a minute slower than last year but happy that the 100k did not damage too many ‘fast-twitch-muscle-fibers’. </span><br />
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<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">Two weeks later, I landed in Cyprus for my first ‘classical’ marathon of the year. I understand if you think that running an ordinary 42,195k marathon should be a ‘piece of cake’ after a 100k. That could be true if I would run it at my 100k-pace (5:19/km average), and yet, it still has to be run too! But its an entirely different story if I want to run the race at my ‘best’ pace, which is around 4:18/km average. Despite my level of fitness, my common sense told me that it is not a wise idea to push for a new Personal Best now, considering the miles behind and ahead of me. The wise voice in me told me to go for a negative split with a slow start and speeding up towards the end. But another voice whispered to give it a blow from the start hoping to maintain the fast pace until the very end. As always I finally choose for something ‘in-between’, also considering the headwind and hills in the first 15k of the race. The hope that tailwind would boost my pace after the first turning-point slowly faded as I found myself running ‘alone’ passing the halfway mark (and the finish of the half-marathoners). Keeping a hard pace with no other runners around, on long straight avenues with the sun burning on your head is not an easy thing to do. Yet I could take over some runners in the final 10k and finished tired but relatively strong in 13th position overall in 3:06:47. My GPS showed 43,15km but even if the course was indeed nearly 1k too long I could not have bettered my PB of 2:58:42. Knowing that I even shouldn't try this year, I tried to convince myself that I raced well without going flat out. Indeed, I felt so good after the race that I walked for another 16k that day! I know it might sound a bit weird but this is the best way to flush out the lactate acid in my legs. The next day, I did not face any soreness and enjoyed a short session in the hotel gym and swimming pool, including some running on the treadmill. Only then, by checking the final results online, i found out that - for the first time in my running career - I finished first in my age group of M45+. </span><br />
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<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">To celebrate this unexpected ‘bonus’ I rented a car and drove to Troodos mountain, a unique geological feature in the heart of Cyprus. Just as last year after the Comrades marathon in South-Africa I preferred to ‘retreat’ some days in the mountains, to recharge the batteries as well to start the training for the next challenge! After trespassing the mountain peak of Cyprus, surprisingly covered by a meter of snow - the local ski-lifts were still working - I settled in an authentic mountain village named Petoulas. The next day - the last day of the meteorological winter - I went out for a run to another picturesque mountain village called ‘Kakopetria’, which literally means something like bad or even rolling stones, threatening the mountain village and its inhabitants. This run was supposed to cover a distance of around 36 km and 1000m elevation gain, which is already quite ambitious short after finishing a marathon. However, it turned out to be much longer and much ‘steeper’, as I could not resist to ‘add’ a trail on the way back. That trail was well marked until the marks disappeared under a thick layer of snow. As I didn't want to return I continued on the snow but got lost in the forest and found no better option than following the ridge leading to the peak of the mountain, nearly 2000m high and entirely covered by knee-deep snow, including some sections where an axe and crampons would have been welcome. Once there I finally had a viewpoint at the far-away village and the road leading to it. It took me another 2 hours to find a suitable access to that road and ended the 6 hour run with nearly 50 km on the counter. As often I cursed myself during the difficult moments of the day but felt euphoric once I arrived back in the village. My recovery of the marathon was completed and my training for the challenges ahead took off well, both on the same day!</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBeaRI9qX02AYOLOuEyAxg07_Jw_8zKmjAU2w7aYQw-s9HB1PFsnD7YXtGW5YvgiAqvOECIlKGZ-Cc15YbVP0i6aSml2PBg1Eh_lTzSjnV7F7rdiLe2EVtkNVmgTRIBwmLDunUMnrVHBs/s1600/IMG_2667.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBeaRI9qX02AYOLOuEyAxg07_Jw_8zKmjAU2w7aYQw-s9HB1PFsnD7YXtGW5YvgiAqvOECIlKGZ-Cc15YbVP0i6aSml2PBg1Eh_lTzSjnV7F7rdiLe2EVtkNVmgTRIBwmLDunUMnrVHBs/s320/IMG_2667.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />
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<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">Running for 6 or even 9 hours will probably sound ridiculous to most non-runners, if not to all ‘normal’ runners. Running for 24 hours non-sop is thus beyond imagination and even sounds intimidating to me. And yet, that's precisely what I intend to do in less than 2 weeks time. At least will TRY to do! I will try to run 200 laps of ...1km. Indeed, this time the loop is not 10k but only 1k, on the old airport of Athens (Ellenikon). Its a yearly event called Athens International Ultra-marathon festival, with runners from all over not only aiming at running 24 hours, but even 48 hours, 72 hours and some of them will even continue for 7 days and aiming at 1000 km or more. Indeed, once a running junkie, there seem no limit to the addiction! Although I defy to the idea of running like a hamster in a wheel, the concept of running a complete cycle of day and night makes some ‘existential’ sense to me. Moreover, it will provide a critical learning experience for the S-race, which will take probably around ...34 hours of non-stop running. And walking! Although I defy to the idea of walking in a running race, I will have to apply a smart run-walk-strategy, from the very start of the race. I will also have to develop and rigorously apply a fueling strategy to keep the engine going. Finally I will need a bullet-proof plan to keep my feet in the best possible shape. If one of these plans fail, I will likely have to drop out soon after. But whether I succeed or not to run 24 hours, this race is only meant to provide me enough feed-back (including feet-back) to shoot for my first big ultra, the Olympia-Trail Race, scheduled on 18 May, covering a distance of 180,1km and crossing the Peloponnese in southern Greece from east to west, including mountains and hills. As a last ‘training’ before the O-race, I will also run the Antwerp marathon, on 21 April, already for the fourth time, and - why not - hoping to better my course record of 3:04. To be continued!</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpIl3oapUzbjocrcB8OJzUFc6o7u6X5VP3goW1-0F_Lej67b_QM-M0ls9m811GKOK-N2S-bytRqCnMskEtXuV-V0zBU4L3lmr2SzemYUHox1JxEUHqcs-WigZ0syUbIj4_HXXJvzvL_3c/s1600/IMG_2690.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpIl3oapUzbjocrcB8OJzUFc6o7u6X5VP3goW1-0F_Lej67b_QM-M0ls9m811GKOK-N2S-bytRqCnMskEtXuV-V0zBU4L3lmr2SzemYUHox1JxEUHqcs-WigZ0syUbIj4_HXXJvzvL_3c/s320/IMG_2690.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">Frankly</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">21 March 2012</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">Athens</span></div><div><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />
</span></div></div>Frank D'hondthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637163192825970380noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1066773482987621004.post-59700061998169258442012-01-08T14:09:00.001-08:002012-01-08T14:09:26.454-08:00Why I Run<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
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</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">OK, I admit, I'm a Runner.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">A <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Frankly Runner</span>.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">According to Wiktionary "frankly" means </span></div><ol style="line-height: 1.5em; list-style-image: none; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 3.2em; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.3em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><li style="margin-bottom: 0.1em;"><span class="ib-brac"><span class="qualifier-brac">(</span></span><span class="ib-content" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="qualifier-content">manner</span></span><span class="ib-brac"><span class="qualifier-brac">)</span></span> in a <a href="http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/frank" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; color: #0645ad; text-decoration: none;" title="frank">frank</a>, <a href="http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/open" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; color: #0645ad; text-decoration: none;" title="open">open</a> or (too) <a href="http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/honest" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; color: #0645ad; text-decoration: none;" title="honest">honest</a> manner.<br />
<dl style="margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-top: 0.2em;"><dd style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-left: 2em;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><i>He spoke <b>frankly</b> about the economy.</i></div></dd></dl></li><br />
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<li style="margin-bottom: 0.1em;"><span class="ib-brac"><span class="qualifier-brac">(</span></span><span class="ib-content" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="qualifier-content">speech act</span></span><span class="ib-brac"><span class="qualifier-brac">)</span></span> <a href="http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/in_truth" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; color: #0645ad; text-decoration: none;" title="in truth">In truth</a>, <a href="http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/to_tell_the_truth" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; color: #0645ad; text-decoration: none;" title="to tell the truth">to tell the truth</a>.<br />
<dl style="margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-top: 0.2em;"><dd style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0.1em; margin-left: 2em;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><i><b>Frankly</b>, my dear, I don't give a damn.</i></div></dd></dl></li><br />
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</ol><h4 style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-color: initial; border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: initial; color: black; font-size: 15px; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0.3em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; padding-bottom: 0.17em; padding-top: 0.5em; width: auto;"><span class="mw-headline" id="Translations"></span></h4><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">To start with the latter, if its about running, <i><b>frankly</b>, my dear, I do give a damn. </i></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">And while I might also speak or write frankly about the economy - its all about economy, isn't it stupid? - I will mostly write frankly about running, in a frank, open and sometimes even too honest manner.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">This blog will take over from my Running Diaries, which I started publishing more than a year ago and just having released the third edition.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">While Running Diaries were spanning periods of 6 or more months, the blog will play shorter on the ball. The blog also allows to write frankly about other important matters in (my) life, from family to world economy.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Now back to running and how it all started.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I ran my first race, a 10k, back in<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> 2005, when I turned 42. </span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">A terrifying experience; thought I would cough up my lungs.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Astma you know.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">In 2006 I moved from Belgium to Kosovo. </span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">To escape the poluted air downtown Prishtina, I started running uphill, gasping for fresher air op there. </span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">I ran my first half marathon and started to dream about running a full marathon.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">In 2007 I ran my first marathon, in Radenska, Slovenia. </span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Since then, I ran more than 25 marathons, many more half marathons.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">In 2008 I ran my first ultra-mountain marathon, on the brutally steep slopes of Mount Olympus. </span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Since then, I ran half a dozen ultra-marathons, and more are on the brink.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">To conclude this intro:</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">Why Running?</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Why running that far, that fast? </span></div></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 14px/normal Palatino; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Why running nearly daily the whole year round? </span></div></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 14px/normal Palatino; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Why running on mountains and rocky trails?</span></div></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 14px/normal Palatino; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Why running in clogged cities on broken pavements?</span></div></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 14px/normal Palatino; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Why running on Sunday mornings?</span></div></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 14px/normal Palatino; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Why running in heat and cold, rain and snow, dust and mud?</span></div></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 14px/normal Palatino; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Why running into stray dogs?</span></div></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 14px/normal Palatino; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Why running to the point of exhaustion?</span></div></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 14px/normal Palatino; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Why running through pain? </span></div></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 14px/normal Palatino; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; min-height: 19px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 14px/normal Palatino; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">The most existential response is simply: </span></div></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 14px/normal Palatino; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; min-height: 19px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 14px/normal Zapfino; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">because I can! </span></div></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 14px/normal Palatino; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Because We all can!</span></div></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 14px/normal Palatino; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />
</span></div></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 14px/normal Palatino; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 14px/normal Palatino; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Because we humans are made for running.</span></div></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 14px/normal Palatino; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Because we are born with the best buttocks of any species.</span></div></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 14px/normal Palatino; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Because running makes us more human.</span></div></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 14px/normal Palatino; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Because we can run anywhere at any time, even bare naked. </span></div></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 14px/normal Palatino; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Because running is more healthy and fun than growing a belly. </span></div></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 14px/normal Palatino; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Because running is about exploring mother earths most intimate places. </span></div></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 14px/normal Palatino; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Because running is about exploring and pushing your limits. </span></div></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 14px/normal Palatino; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Because running is about setting and realizing ambitious goals.</span></div></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 14px/normal Palatino; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Because running is about the kick of crossing finish lines. </span></div></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 14px/normal Palatino; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Because running boosts self-confidence but also humbles. </span></div></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 14px/normal Palatino; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Because running is about exploring your emotions.</span></div></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 14px/normal Palatino; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Because running is about turning pain into pleasure.</span></div></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 14px/normal Palatino; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Because running liberates, as much as flying does for birds (I guess). </span></div></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 14px/normal Zapfino; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Because running is fun.</span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-right: 1em; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-top: 6px; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5UZYHUznZcnTv1bcMf9Evb3xUQfMAS1iQM_aGGCeLbAf18xVYwNhyDhretSnIWJPd4PbgMif3rjB1_dWKTKUspq-te3sInbX-yeWW2xzhaQaalP9dc5tjjbZUkcBcMU-dUpkOBhWKQok/s1600/IMG_8080.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5UZYHUznZcnTv1bcMf9Evb3xUQfMAS1iQM_aGGCeLbAf18xVYwNhyDhretSnIWJPd4PbgMif3rjB1_dWKTKUspq-te3sInbX-yeWW2xzhaQaalP9dc5tjjbZUkcBcMU-dUpkOBhWKQok/s320/IMG_8080.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div></td></tr>
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</span></div></div></div>Frank D'hondthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637163192825970380noreply@blogger.com2