Spring Running Report

 

Race report Olympia Ultramarathon

 

In the foot-steps of the ancient Olympic runners

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'(1) 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.

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.

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…

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!).

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.

 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.

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.

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.

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.  

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. 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.

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.

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.

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.

 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 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.

Zeus, here I come!

Frankly Runner

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.

---

^[1] 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.

Surviving Your First Hundred – Part 1: Preparation

Surviving Your First Hundred – Part 1: Preparation

Winter Running Report

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. 

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...

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! 

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!

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)!

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’. 

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+. 

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!

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!

Frankly

21 March 2012

Athens

Why I Run

OK, I admit, I'm a Runner.

A Frankly Runner.

According to Wiktionary "frankly" means 

1. (manner) in a frank, open or (too) honest manner.
   

   He spoke frankly about the economy.





2. (speech act) In truth, to tell the truth.
   

   Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn.

To start with the latter, if its about running, frankly, my dear, I do give a damn. 

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.

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.

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.

Now back to running and how it all started.

I ran my first race, a 10k, back in 2005, when I turned 42. 

A terrifying experience; thought I would cough up my lungs.

Astma you know.

In 2006 I moved from Belgium to Kosovo. 

To escape the poluted air downtown Prishtina, I started running uphill, gasping for fresher air op there. 

I ran my first half marathon and started to dream about running a full marathon.

In 2007 I ran my first marathon, in Radenska, Slovenia. 

Since then, I ran more than 25 marathons, many more half marathons.

In 2008 I ran my first ultra-mountain marathon, on the brutally steep slopes of Mount Olympus. 

Since then, I ran half a dozen ultra-marathons, and more are on the brink.

To conclude this intro:

Why Running?

Why running that far, that fast? 

Why running nearly daily the whole year round? 

Why running on mountains and rocky trails?

Why running in clogged cities on broken pavements?

Why running on Sunday mornings?

Why running in heat and cold, rain and snow, dust and mud?

Why running into stray dogs?

Why running to the point of exhaustion?

Why running through pain? 

The most existential response is simply: 

because I can! 

Because We all can!

Because we humans are made for running.

Because we are born with the best buttocks of any species.

Because running makes us more human.

Because we can run anywhere at any time, even bare naked. 

Because running is more healthy and fun than growing a belly. 

Because running is about exploring mother earths most intimate places. 

Because running is about exploring and pushing your limits. 

Because running is about setting and realizing ambitious goals.

Because running is about the kick of crossing finish lines. 

Because running boosts self-confidence but also humbles. 

Because running is about exploring your emotions.

Because running is about turning pain into pleasure.

Because running liberates, as much as flying does for birds (I guess). 

Because running is fun.