Tuesday 18 December 2007

31. Zuercher Silvesterlauf - 16th December 2007


My third race under my belt since I've got into this running thing!!!! It was a short one, but, under the circumstances, I'm glad it was, and upon the reason for that, I shall elaborate shortly.

"31. Zürcher Silvesterlauf" translates from the German to "31st New Year's Eve Run of Zürich", and covers a distance of 8,6 km through the city. Now, why it's a New Year's Eve run on 16th December, and why 8,6 km, I have yet to discover, but it's an interesting concept nonetheless. Regardless, I took part, and am pleased to say, that I completed the race in 40:57 - not exactly a world record, but, under the circumstances, not bad for me. The race comprised several races of various distances and categories. The category I chose when I registered, was, for a change, not based upon age, but speed, and mine was the top (well, the top athletes are in a class of their own) group, expecting to complete the distance in 40 minutes or less.

As it turned out, I placed 1990 out of 3950 for the 8,6 km distance, and 226 out of 930 in my category (many didn't make the 40-minute "limit"), so I did OK!!!

Now, what are these circumstances I have mentioned above. Well, first of all, one of our good friends celebrated his 40th birthday the night before, and, naturally, there was a lot of wine flowing. The road to hell may be paved with good intentions, especially the night before a race, but the wine was better, and I had more than the one glass I had promised myself. Come Sunday morning, and I was never going to drink again. Actually, it wasn't that bad, but I did have more than I should have had, and was not really fit for running a race - I now declare this publicly: I will not drink wine (ANY WINE) again on the night before a race!!!!!

And then, of course, there was the subject of my lingering leg injury. Ostensibly it's a Gracilis muscle (one of the adductors) which was injured, but I fear it's actually a stress fracture. A cortisone injection and meds have not helped much, and even physiotherapy is not really doing all that much to relieve the pain. The only thing which gives symptomatic relief, is Aspirin, but one should only take just so much of that - I have to admit to far too much Aspirin consumption lately!!!!! In the four weeks leading up to the Zürich race, I trained for exactly one week (with some pretty good runs during the period), which doesn't exactly help one to do well.

Anyway, until Saturday, I was more or less resigned to the fact that I would not be running. My physiotherapist threatened me with my life if I ran. On Saturday, I went by train down to Zürich to do some shopping - but I KNEW I would go to the exhibition tent and pick up my number for the race. Strangely enough, my leg was not hurting much that day. Once I had my number bib and bag of goodies, wild horses would not have been able to drag me away from Sunday's race. I went back home to Chur, later that afternoon, resolute, that I'd be back on the train the next day to compete.

I had all my kit laid out, ready, before we left for the 40th birthday bash that evening. My leg still felt fine, and I was quite adamant I was going to run. At the party, Kurt (my partner) took great delight in telling people about my racing/running, so, of course, there was always something to chat about with folk. After a few glasses of wine, even my planned 250-km Marathon des Sables in 2010 became something that everyone simply did at least once in his/her life, and I was amazed at how people thought I was a total loon when I mentioned that I was planning to run it. Well, I am, but first things first: let me get through my first full-mara in Zürich in April, and then we'll see if I am capable (that's a stupid statement, because nothing, short of death, will stop me doing the MsD now - I have my heart, mind and even the spleen set on doing it).

Fortunately my race in Zürich only took place at 15:00 hours, so I could sleep in a bit on Sunday. I was to go alone to Zürich. Kurt, and our friends, Rolf and Brigitte, were not coming this time. I eventually left on the 10:09 train, and was in the big city by 11:30-ish, with lots of time on my hands. I first of all found the building in which one could change, after which I found a whole row of buses near the start, which had been placed for changing purposes, so at least I could leave my kit bag in one of them (valaubles could be handed in to a security stand - old running shoes, jock straps, PIN codes, that sort of thing), and access it easily while I warmed up, etc.

One can only do that much warming up, but I did my best to keep warm. It was ABSOLUTELY FREEZING in Zürich. There was low, thick cloud cover, temperatures just below freezing, and a north-easterly wind which reduced the wind-chill factor to about -6°C. At the best of times, I do not like wearing much clothing (I'll NEVER understand, or adapt to, the Swiss way of wearing four layers of clothing in winter!!!!!), but yesterday I had on a vest, running shirt and running jacket, and my lycra running longs and track suit pants in which to warm-up, and STILL froze while warming up. The whole race thingy started off around midday with kids' races - millions of the little buggers everywhere. Grin and bear it, or run away in the opposite direction - I chose the latter!!!! I went for a nice, slow jog along the lake shore.
Around 1:30-ish, I came back to the race area, to see the top guys run. Our Swiss champion, Viktor Röthlin, was running, too, and I really hoped he would beat all the Ethiopians, Kenyans, etc. My goodness, when I look at those top athletes run, I could pack it all up, throw away my running shoes, and call it a day. They are so incredibly fit, and run like the blazes. I know it was only an 8,6-km run, but how can one keep up such a pace, even for that distance? All right, they are a "few" years younger than me, and have been running since conception, but hell, why can't I run like that?????? :)

Back to my gammy leg - all of Sunday down to Zürich, I had no problems at all. Come my warm-ups, and, lo and behold, my old friend returned to annoy me. It was too late to back out, but I did promise myself that I would stop, if the pain became too intense (would I have kept the promise???? Are you you dead????).

Twenty minutes before the start of my category's race, there was an aerobics warm-up session on a square near the start. I took part, and my leg pain disappeared. Maybe I should do more of this aerobics stuff - in another life!!! Thereafter, we had ten minutes until 930 of us set off on a route which would see us loop four times through the city, culminating at a frozen "Ziel/Arrivée" - FINISH.

I had my new Garmin 305 Forerunner GPS/Heart Rate Monitor/Mini-Bar with me, and was keen to use it for the first time on a race. Unfortunately I had set it to automatically set a lap at the end of each kilometre, and had no idea how to end a lap at 0,6 km (the last lap of the 8,6 km). Nonetheless, it turned out to be a wonderful little instrument - almost as useful as Aspirin!!!!

£1000 prize for the first one who can guess what the result is of the following: a certain amount of wine the night before, two (make that three) cups of coffee the next day, a LOT of water, and jolly cold weather, coupled with pre-race jitters. A lot of toilet-going!!!!!!! Hmmm, I spent half my time in the portable toilets scattered around the race area. Anyway, a man has to do what a man has to do. I hate those things, because I despise looking down and seeing what the previous person had left behind!!!!!!

Well, ablutions behind me, I made my way to the start line on the road next to the Limmat River which runs from Lake Zürich through the city. I had, until then, not been in a race with so many people - and this was only one category!!!!! It was incredible. Even if I had wanted to do so, I could not have found a place near the start line. I almost needed binoculars to see it from where I found myself, and there were still great crowds behind me. What a thrill; what an experience. Everyone happily nervous and excited. It just so happened, that a row of "Port-a-Johns" was near where I was waiting for the start pistol. My bladder was complaining again. I could not believe it. Three minutes to go, and I need the toilet. I shall have my bladder removed at the next possible opportunity. Fortunately, one of the cubicles became free just them, so I thundered in, did what one does in such a place, and thundered out again, with 2:23 minutes to go.

In true Swiss style, the locals had come out in their hoardes to watch the mad ones on this frozen, alpine, Arctic Sunday, and many even had their decorative cow bells with them, the clanging thereof adding to the festive atmosphere. I stood there, occassionally making small talk with fellow runners, they also questioning whether a last visit to the portable john was essential or not. That excited nervousness before a race is something that has to be experienced to be understood. It's worth living for, and worth all the trials and tribulations (and JOYS) of training. I just LOVE IT!!!!!!! Other than the idea of the tax department exploding, there is almost no better emotion. Excuse me, while I wipe away a tear!!!!

Finally, the countdown began. The digital display, about 276 metres in front of where I was standing, let us know how much time was left 'til the beginning. I was incredibly nervous. Would my leg hold up? Was I dressed warmly enough? - I had taken off my track-suit trousers and Nike skull cap. Would I remember to push all the relevant buttons on my instruments before we set off? Had I connected the electronic chip correctly to my shoe? Would the Russians really deliver nuclear thingies to the Iranians? And did Little Jim really fall into the water? Would I be accepted for the 2010 Marathon des Sables in Morocco? Runners have a lot of things on their minds. What is wrong now????? No, my bladder CANNOT be full again. Ignore, or simply become incontinent!! I was bouncing up and down on my feet, and, at T-20 seconds, I could feel the beginnings of a cramp in my right calf muscle. What the hell this is? I had taken magnesium tablets, Aspirin, lots of water. WHY am I cramping now????? Forget it - like George W. Bush, it'll eventually go away.

FÜNF - five
VIER - four
DREI- three
ZWEI - two
EINS - one

Bugger off, and see you in less than 40 minutes!!!!! (but we'll accept you in 40:57, as long as you have a sore leg).

And we're back in the present tense, and OFF!!!!!!

But, I am tired, and need the duvet!!!!! I shall continue this tomorrow. Have patience. As they say in Africa: "If you find the river flooded, wait"!!!!! I need a shower, an anti-sore-leg med, and then a bed.

More on the morrow.
Greetings for the lower limbs,
Craig
Another day, and the blog continues........
Well, it's the present tense for the race, so let's see if I can remember my grammar.
It's exactly 15:00 hours, and the pistol shot reverberates off the walls of the buildings lining the road, and bounces off the Limmat River next to us. A mass of humanity tries to depart as one, but it just doesn't work. At the front, the runners there set off at a cracking pace, whilst those of us further back, bounce up and down impatiently. Some try to break through the throng, and a few well-aligned elbows hit a few targets!!!! The cramp in my right calf continues to worry me, and I continue to try and ignore it. It's not bad, but it's there, and it shouldn't be!!!!
We have all been equipped with electronic chips which attach to the shoe, and one's start time is only registered as one passes over the actual starting line. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, but is certainly no longer than five to ten seconds, my area of runners starts to move forward, slowly at first, and then gradually picking up speed. Over the starting line we go, and the race is on. With the incredible release of tension en masse, frustration is high as one tries to get forward, but patience eventually wins the day, and I find an open space through which I can push forward. A quick glance at my Garmin 305 shows a pace of 7:37 minutes per km (written in future as 7:37/km), which is very slow, but I suspect a gremlin, as a few seconds before, it showed a pace of 2:04/km; however, it soon sorts itself, and I am confident, that the information from my new toy is accurate.
To cover the 8,6 km in 40 minutes or less, I need to maintain an average pace of 4:39/km. The route itself is through the old part of Zürich, along the Limmat River, across a couple of bridges, up a rather steep hill in the so-called Utopia area of the old town, and down the world-famous Bahnhofstrasse with its beautiful shops, and then back to just near the start before it's over the Münsterbrücke again and another round - four times in all. It's an interesting route, with the sides of the race-track lined with people, all cheering us on; cowbells clanging, music playing, kids sticking out their hands for high-fives - in all, a most jolly atmosphere, despite the intense cold. I feel very proud being part of it all, and feel like I have a grin on my face for most of the time.
Once the crowded start is over, and the mass of runners thins itself out a little, running becomes easier and more fun, although there are still more runners together in bunches than I have experienced before - with such a relatively short race distance, and so many participants, I guess it's not surprising. Getting ones foot (or both) caught in the tramlines is not out of the questions, as is tripping over the sidewalk curbs, so being vigilant in that respect is salient to surviving the race, and avoiding the undertakers lurking ever nearby. I ignore the cramp in my right calf for the first 300 metres, and it miraculously vanishes - now if only this other pain in my leg would do the same!!!!!!
The Splits below are each 1 km in length.
Split 1 - 4:25/km; average heart rate 165 bpm; maximum heart rate 169 bpm
Split 2 - 4:27/km; average HR 166 bmp; max. HR 168 bpm
I scale the Utopia hill this first time with ease, even overtaking several runners, but know that it's quite a fast race, and I have to do this infamous incline another three times before it's over. Even the top of the hill is not really the top, as it still rises, albeit at a lesser gradient, for a while, before the most welcome descent down to the Bahnhofstrasse, which is simply teeming with spectators. I miss not having someone to look out for in the crowds this time, but what the hell, I can't expect Kurt and others to come to every race.
Back towards the start area where there is a junction - either right, and a further 250 metres to the finish, or left for the next loop of the route. I'm feeling strong, and no sign whatsoever of pain from my leg. Back over the Münsterbrücke, and faces and buildings are starting to become familiar. I hardly feel the cold anymore - in fact, I wish I weren't wearing all this clothing. Among Viktor Röthlin and the boys (i.e. I think the top 50 athletes who had run earlier), many were wearing simple running vests and shorts, and I wished I had done the same thing, although the amount of heat they must have generated at their paces (Viktor's average pace was around 3:35/km, which is significantly faster than mine!!!!!), would warrant running almost naked; at my leisurely pace, A LOT of clothing at those temperatures is essential!!!! So, I stop wishing, and start being happy, that the sweat under my hundreds of layers of running attire is not freezing up.
Split 3 - 4:34/km; average HR 166 bpm; max. HR 171 bpm
A little slower than before, but I hit that hill again - it wasn't so funny this time, and some runners were even walking up it!!!!
And back down the Bahnhofstrasse again - reputedly the most expensive shopping street in the world - and on towards the junction. Rushing down from the end of the hill, I manage to sprint somewhat, and attain a maximum pace of 3:05/km for a brief while - move over, Viktor!!!!! We won't mention the 7:26/km going up the Utopia hill!!!!!!!
Split 4 - 4:37/km; average HR 162 bpm; max. HR 166 bpm.

Progressively slower, but I blame it on the crowds who are distracting me, the cow bells which cause me to look out for wandering cattle, and the fact that I am now looking out for people I had seen on the previous loop. I did manage again a nice little maximum pace of 3:32/km, which lasted for a good 150 metres (this Garmin 305 toy produces some amazing information!!!!!!).
Back over the Münsterbrücke yet again, up the Limmatquai, and things are going very well.
Split 5 - 4:29/km; average HR 165 bpm; max. HR 169 bpm
Yet again that hill. This time I ascend it at an official "slow jog" - 10:21/km - I'm starting to hate that hill, but at least I am not reduced to walking like many others. I'm too tenacious for that, and my mind just wouldn't allow me to go any slower.
It's over the hurdle and the slope down to the Bahnhofstrasse yet again. Ah, there's Frau Müller from Globus; ah, and here I see again Herr Caflisch who looks like he may just have slipped into the pub for a swift pint after I past him last time around. High-five a few kids, and onwards I plod.
Split 6 - 4:36/km; average HR 164 bpm; max. HR 168 bpm
Over the bridge for the third time, and it's the last round ahead of me. Accepting invitations to dinner from spectators I have "met" on the way, I thrust myself forward, but I'm starting to tire now. I try not to think of the lack of training I have had in the four weeks up to this race, but it's a convenient excuse, anyway.
Split 7 - 4:51/km; average HR 163 bpm; max. HR 167 bpm
I really push myself this time as I head up the Utopia cliff, and manage a pace of 6:34/km whilst ascending. Then it's a rapid descent to the Bahnhofstrasse and I'm starting to become really thirsty, but it's not far now.
Split 8 - 4:37/km; average HR 162 bpm; max. HR 167 bpm
Ah, an increase in average pace - must be the homeward stretch. I feel my clothes under my running jacket are very wet now, and I'll be glad to get out of them. It's a short race, so there're no worries about blisters or dying of dehydration, although I can feel a touch of malnutrition creeping up on me - I'd had some carbs at breakfast before I left Chur, but nothing solid since then. Hmmm, mental note to self: eat soon, or you'll be getting a visit from the UN Food Programme people. The mind flashes to TV pictures of me, lying in the sand, starving, emaciated, flies buzzing around my eyes, with pleas for help and a website appearing at the bottom of the screen. I anxiously glance down to my girth, and notice the great rolls of cellulite (not really!!!) flopping around as I hurtle down the Bahnhofstrasse for the fourth time. Second mental note to self: there's enough fat reserve there to feed a few Third World countries, so quit whinging!!!!
I've completed 8 km now, so it's 600 metres left. It's time to deprive the Third World of a possible feast and use up some of those fat reserves, and I start accelerating. Wow, what a great feeling it is to overtake those morons who had seen fit to roar past me earlier. It's payback time!!!! Vengeance is mine, I scream in my mind, and give it all I have, as I roar (well, sort of) around the first of the last two corners of the race route.
My speed starts to increase - 4:33/km; 4:02/km; 3:50/km; 3:24/km and finally a major spurt to achieve a swift race maximum for me of 3:02/km as I overtake a group of five or six runners. I can only presume that my Garmin 305 is accurate, as the results from my iPod/Nike+ are pretty similar. All I know is, that it was damned fast (for me), albeit a short sprint, and I throw my arms up into the air as I cross the finishing line, feeling like a marathon winner.
Split 9 (0,6 km) - 3:47/km; average HR 164; max. HR 172. (Despite problems in turning off the Garmin 305, I managed to extract this data from the records in the gadget).
And then, suddenly, it's all over. I cannot believe it. I move several metres forward from the finishing line to get out of the way of other runners arriving, turn around, and anxiously look for an official clock so I can see my official time. I know I am just over the 40-minute mark, but I need an exact time. Can't find the clock, so I slowly make my way down the canyon of fences to the sponsors' tables, have the chip cut off my shoe, eagerly accept a litre of lemon juice and a large banana, and exit the race area into a HUGE crowd of well-wishers and people who like the smell of sweaty runners.
I consume my nourishment, and feel somewhat confused and lonely. I need someone to hug me, to congratulate me, to rush me off to the nearest pub and buy me a cüppli of champagne - but this time I'm alone, so it's a slow stroll back to the bus where my belongings sit, after a little stretching first, change into dry and warm clothes, collect my valuables, and then try to decide what to do. Should I wait for the prize-giving at 5 o'clock, or should I head back to Chur? I'm starting to shiver now, and I need warmth. Forget the presentation - go to the railway station.
Within minutes of ending the race, my HR is down to around 85 bpm, which is a good sign of fitness and quick recovery. I had seen Viktor and the Africans finish their race earlier (I was at the finishing line), and, as I walk back past the start en route to the station, the slower group of 8,6-km runners set off, and I wish them well, and almost long to be with them as well, doing another round - almost!!!!!
On the train back to Chur, I anxiously try to access the Internet on my mobile 'phone, but the results have not yet been posted. I go through the information on my electrical equipment, and find that my time is under 41 minutes, and my average pace is 4:46/km, so that's not too bad.
Within two hours, I am back home in Chur, lying in a bubble bath, enjoying a glass of South African red, and feeling like a king. Despite my lack of training and the injury, I had run, what I consider, a good race, and felt happy.
My official results were:
Time: 40:57
Average pace: 4:45/km
Postion out of 3950 adult 8,6-km runners: 1990
Position out of 931 adult 8,6-km runners for "under 40 minutes": 226
I slept well on Sunday evening, and look forward to my next major race: the Semi-Marathon de Paris (half-marathon) on 2nd March. No doubt there will be a few minor races in between.
My leg held up for the race, but started aching a little on the way back to Chur. Today - Tuesday - I have had physiotherapy again, and it really is starting to feel as though the injury is healing. Pity, though, that I have caught a cold - there's always something!
Well, that's it then. Another race, another blog. Hopefully there will be many more to follow (races, I mean). Thanks for reading all this, if you got this far.
Cheers,
Craig
P.S. For some inexplicable reason, and although I have inserted them in the original, and editted the post twice, the paragraph lines just won't appear in the final post for the second half of this blog. Anyone have any ideas????

No comments: