Florence Marathon

Another marathon is in the books!  

Nick and I were the first to arrive in Florence on Saturday morning, so we were responsible for picking up everyone's race packets.  We easily found each other at the main station, dropped off our luggage, and made our way to the expo.  As I started seeing signs for the marathon, it finally hit me: I will be running 26.2 miles tomorrow morning.  My "training" for the past seven months has consisted of 8-10km on a treadmill most mornings, with only a couple half-marathons thrown in for good measure.  I feel completely underprepared.      

The expo was arranged in a way that required us all to weave through the maze of booths before we could pick up our numbers.  There's no better way to psych myself up for a race than to pass countless booths for all the other marathons in Europe that I would like to run (the idea of running marathons is a lot more exciting than the actual process of running them).  In true Italian style, the maze hit a dead end and required everyone to do a u-turn and push through the crowds in order to go out the same way we came in.   
  
We decided that carb-loading was in order, so we stopped for pizza near the city center.  Wine was so inexpensive that we had no choice but to "hydrate" with a half-liter each.  I was nervous about food in Italy since I don't eat tomato sauce, but the waitress was completely unfazed by my request for a white pizza.   

By around 6pm, everyone else had arrived and we were en route to our villa in the countryside that we had rented for the week from Brian's aunt, who also generously offered to cook us all dinner.  The food was great and the wine was relaxing.  Yes, that's right - both meals on the day before the race involved wine. 

Pre-race dinner (with wine!)

The remaining hours before the race felt like a whirlwind:

...Sleep.  

...Wake up.  

...Shower (strike that. No hot water.  It's ok, I'm going to smell gross in a few hours anyhow).  

...Back in the car for our journey to Florence.  

...No parking near the starting line, so Brian's aunt took us up a giant hill, which had great views of the city but the impending hike after the race scared me a little.  

...Group picture time!  Yay, T-45 minutes until the race (getting a little nervous).  

Less than 1 hour before the start!

On our way to the gear check (or "cloakroom", as the Italians would say), the crowds started getting crazy and we were literally stuck in a crowd of people.  The minutes were counting down and everyone was just pushing each other to get anywhere.  Eventually, I broke through and rushed to get rid of my bag.   

What's with all the people?!? I need my space!!

I managed to squeeze my way into the starting corral with a few minutes to spare, but it was so crowded that I couldn't even stretch at all.  This was by far the most hectic race start I have ever experienced and the first few miles would have to be my stretch/warm-up period.  

Once the starting gun went off, I instantly felt more calm.  The crowd thinned out, the weather was ideal for running (we got lucky), and my legs were feeling fresh.  Around the 10k mark, I remember seeing some pacers in front of me, with their balloons bopping around in the air.  I had to look twice for it to register that I was running with the 3-hour pace group.  This was much faster than I was planning and I knew that it wouldn't be sustainable considering my lack of training.  Unfortunately, it's not so easy to just slow down in the middle of a race, so I reluctantly decided to keep going until my body decides that it has run long enough.  

We crossed the half-marathon point at exactly 90 minutes and I still felt good, but I knew that my body would break down at some point as I venture into the 18+ mile mark.  Sure enough, I started getting side cramps around the 30km point, which forced me to walk for a bit.  

For me, walking during a marathon is like breaking the seal at a bar.  Once you start, it becomes a lot more frequent.  Sure enough, my pace became a lot slower and random parts of my body started hurting.  I wish I was better at training for long-distance races but it's just so boring - especially since I am usually bound to treadmill running in most of my hotels.  

After the 30km mark, I started looking forward to each water stop for some much needed refreshment.  Florence offered some unique alternatives to the standard options, including tea (sometimes hot, sometimes luke-warm), salt water (which I never tried but was told tasted like a flavorless gatorade), wet sponge (common in European races, but not in the US), and italian biscotti.  That's right, Biscotti.  Nick snapped a picture of a well-dressed volunteer, offering some Italian pastries to the runners.  Between the biscotti and the high heels, this woman enlivens the best Italian stereotypes!

I'm obsessed with this woman. 

By the end of the race, my body was literally falling apart.  I had stopped to walk multiple times and everything was starting to hurt.  Somehow, I still managed to pull out a respectable 3:11 finish time but it was not easy.  After the race, I shuffled my way back to the cloak room and returned to the finish line to watch more runners come in.  The finish line was in front of the Basilica of Santa Croce, which was such a picturesque setting.  

Finish line of the Firenze Marathon

Once everyone in our group had finished, we meandered our way back up to the cars (very slowly) and shared our favorite moments from the morning.  Mine was running past the duomo because it just appeared out of nowhere and is always such an awe-inspiring sight.  I love running in Europe because the courses are always so scenic and this race certainly was no exception.  

I often wonder why I voluntarily put my body through the torture of running full marathons, but the feeling of achievement always seems to last longer than the soreness in my muscles.  The Florence marathon will remain particularly memorable because I got to experience it with five of my friends.  Now that the hard work is over, we can celebrate with a week in Tuscany.  

Florence Marathon medal 2013

Brussels, Belgium

Fall races are wonderful.  There's even better in a foreign country and when you have a friend to run with.  I was lucky enough to have both of these things in Brussels and the great running weather was icing on the cake. 

I woke up so early that people were still returning home from the night before.  Oddly enough, this wasn't the first time I have seen drunk people in Dusseldorf on my way to a race (last time was the morning of the marathon in April).  Call me strange if you want, but whenever I see people chowing down on doner kebabs while I prepare for a race, it makes me feel even better about my life choices. 

The train ride from Dusseldorf to Brussels couldn't have been easier and I actually enjoyed the time to eat breakfast, listen to music, and mentally prepare for the run.  American race organizers need to take advice from the Europeans on scheduling later start times. 

I was lucky enough that my friend registered me earlier in the week, so all I had to do was show up at his apartment and pick up my number.  We chatted a little on our way to the race and, before I knew it, I was lined up and getting ready to start. 

The event started in beautiful Parc du Cinquantenaire and, with over seven thousand runners in the half-marathon, it was a pretty big race.  I'm at the point where I don't even feel nervous anymore before the start of a run, even though I haven't run this long of a distance since April. 

Here's where the race started

I lined up near the front, thinking that I could push myself with a fast pace.  Perhaps not the best idea, considering how competitive I am about not wanting to be passed.  The first kilometer is never fun because I end up weaving my way through people and getting annoyed at the slow runners that serve as a roadblock and should have started further back, with all the other slow people.  

Before too long, the pack thinned out a bit and I was settling into my true pace group.  My biggest memory of the race will be the hills.  Jeez, who would have thought that Brussels is so hilly?!?  I am not too used to the elevation changes, after only running on treadmills for much of the past six months.  

Crowd support was pretty decent throughout the course and the homes - especially near the embassies - were really beautiful.  I forget that Brussels is an important political city for Europe and it's unfortunate that the city doesn't have more tourist attractions because it really is beautiful.  

The end of the race was one of the steepest descents of the entire race and my legs were just mindlessly propelling me down the street.  By this point, people around me were on an all-out sprint and I couldn't allow myself to slow down.  The last few turns in the old city really funneled us into narrow streets, which was even more exciting with all the crowds lining both sides.  

How can someone not absolutely love running through the old city centers in Europe?  I'd say my favorite example of this is in the Luxembourg marathon, but Brussels was pretty close.  The finish line was at Grand Place, which is arguably one of the most architecturally beautiful squares in the world.  

Here's the finish line from the race

I knew I would finish a little before Simon, so I decided to look for a race shirt to buy (without success).  It's surprising to me that they weren't selling shirts to all the people at the finish, but I need to remind myself that I'm not in America, where people will mindlessly buy anything that's for sale.  

After a quick shower at Simon's place, we went out for brunch and for a walk around the city.  The afternoon epitomized a relaxing European Sunday...walking, chatting, stop for an ice-cream, meet up with one of his friends, drink beer, walk some more, drink more beer at another bar.  In a country known for amazing beer, it would be a crime to not at least try a couple different brews...

Simon and I, enjoying the afternoon

Here's the second bar we stopped at...I love the classic decor

We took one more stroll through Grand Place so I could take some pictures.  By this point, all remnants of the race had disappeared except for this sign that directed finishers to the medal area.  

Corner of Grand Place

Another edge of the square

It's a shame that I'm such a poor photographer because these buildings are just beautiful.  And, I was a little surprised to learn that people actually live in them.  We saw a "for rent" sign in some of the windows.  I can only imagine what it's like to step out your front door and see this every morning.  (Although, I'm not going to lie - it's also fun to step out of a different front door every other week in a new city).  

Before heading back to Germany, we relaxed for a little while at Simon's awesome apartment.  This penthouse unit is one of those gems that doesn't even exist in most cities - with two levels, a really cool layout, and a great rooftop terrace.  I love my job, but there's always a slight feeling of jealousy when I see apartments like his.  

Overall, it was such a fun day.  I love the excitement of racing, the feeling of achievement once the event is over, and being able to spend an afternoon hanging out with fun people.  Plus, it had been over a decade since I visited Brussels and it's always nice to explore a city through events like a half-marathon.  I'll close this entry with one of the most-visited tourist attractions in Brussels: Manneken Pis. 

Yup.  Just like the name suggests.

Returning to Europe

Finally...back in Europe!  

I felt "at home" as soon as I walked off the jet-bridge in the Frankfurt airport.  Everything around me was clean, fresh, and silent.  I love silence.  

A last-minute schedule change relocated me to Dusseldorf but the journey was easy, thanks to a high-speed train that speeds through the countryside at 200 km/hour.  

I was greeted with perfect fall weather and a perfect sunset.  It's so nice to be back in a place where I can go outside without feeling uncomfortable! The hotel's terrace bar was buzzing and the view from my room was postcard-worthy.  

Looking out at the city from my room

Just a slight contrast to my view in Mumbai: 

Oh India...

Sunday morning, I felt so energized that I went for a long run along the Rhine river.  Crisp fall weather is perfect for running and I forgot how fantastic it feels to run outside with the breeze all around me and amazing views.  The people in Dusseldorf are so friendly.  Whenever I passed another runner, we exchanged nods and a lip-synched hello.  

Brunch - my favorite meal of the week - tasted even better than any meal I ate in Mumbai.  Not that all the food there was gross, but my system must be thanking me for giving it food that is not so difficult to digest.  I can finally eat salads again! I can finally brush my teeth without worrying about swallowing the water.  Simple pleasures.  

My project started on Monday morning with perfect German efficiency. We sat down to create a plan for the two weeks and our meeting was immediately followed by schedule invitations for a series of meetings.  Organization makes me feel calm and in-control.  I can already tell that this is going to be a great project. 

To top it off, a friend was in town for the day from Berlin and we were able to have dinner together.  When I initially took this job, I had hoped to see friends that are scattered across the world.  It's always nice to take advantage of these opportunities.  

I continue starting my mornings with energizing runs along the Rhine.  How can I resist when there is such a small window of perfect weather?   I started laughing this morning when I noticed a bunny running across the grass.  In India, that would have been a rat.  Both are furry creatures but bunnies are just so much cuter.