Well where has everyone been! Ok, I've been swamped with work, school, water polo and shwarma consumption, but I thought I'd take a trip down memory lane as sort of a comeback post.
About 3 weeks ago I answered the call of champions again, and ran in the Bahrain Team Marathon. Unlike last year's challenge though, I was dropped down to the 11th spot on the team. This wasn't related to any performance factors, only because I was asked to participate at the last minute.
"Pphhh. Sure, I'll run that little trot." I blurted out.
The morning of the race was much more mellow than 2010. I woke-up at Martin's house around 8am, had some coffee, watched a little rugby, stretched for 3 minutes, and then took a nap...ok, I only stretched for 45 seconds.
Julie (Martin's wife), Martin and I headed out to our run posts. The weather was incredible and I was actually feeling pretty good. Both Martin and Julie performed their legs without incident, so I was fired-up when I took the baton. I raced off down the road feeling very strong. My leg was pretty simple this year, except that I was told it would feel longer than it actually was.
"You'll come down that hill and see a traffic light about 700 meters away. By this time you'll be a bit winded, so turning here and heading for the finish line will be the desire. But no mate, you have another light to run to, and it's another 1/2 mile away!"
Well I hit that light and sure enough, I was wishing the run was coming to an end. This was about a mile and a half into my leg, so I was starting to feel winded (this is the one time I run during the year.). I passed under the traffic light, briefly excited to be actually gaining on another runner ahead of me. I tried to pick-up the pace. Then, out of nowhere, a gawky running woman strode by me. She was running with an odd hitch, but she was passing me with ease! I suddenly felt like I was cracking cement with my lumbering strides. That second light came much too late for me. I turned the corner and the finish line was in the distance. I pushed hard and passed that first runner towards the end. That's the last time a 14 year old girl tries to outpace my running prowess. VICTORY!!!!
Here's me with a sweet orange shirt and Cheerio-sized medal.
About 3 weeks ago I answered the call of champions again, and ran in the Bahrain Team Marathon. Unlike last year's challenge though, I was dropped down to the 11th spot on the team. This wasn't related to any performance factors, only because I was asked to participate at the last minute.
"Pphhh. Sure, I'll run that little trot." I blurted out.
The morning of the race was much more mellow than 2010. I woke-up at Martin's house around 8am, had some coffee, watched a little rugby, stretched for 3 minutes, and then took a nap...ok, I only stretched for 45 seconds.
Julie (Martin's wife), Martin and I headed out to our run posts. The weather was incredible and I was actually feeling pretty good. Both Martin and Julie performed their legs without incident, so I was fired-up when I took the baton. I raced off down the road feeling very strong. My leg was pretty simple this year, except that I was told it would feel longer than it actually was.
"You'll come down that hill and see a traffic light about 700 meters away. By this time you'll be a bit winded, so turning here and heading for the finish line will be the desire. But no mate, you have another light to run to, and it's another 1/2 mile away!"
Well I hit that light and sure enough, I was wishing the run was coming to an end. This was about a mile and a half into my leg, so I was starting to feel winded (this is the one time I run during the year.). I passed under the traffic light, briefly excited to be actually gaining on another runner ahead of me. I tried to pick-up the pace. Then, out of nowhere, a gawky running woman strode by me. She was running with an odd hitch, but she was passing me with ease! I suddenly felt like I was cracking cement with my lumbering strides. That second light came much too late for me. I turned the corner and the finish line was in the distance. I pushed hard and passed that first runner towards the end. That's the last time a 14 year old girl tries to outpace my running prowess. VICTORY!!!!
Here's me with a sweet orange shirt and Cheerio-sized medal.
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ReplyDeleteWay to go Matt...Victory is SWEET! Wear that medal always!
ReplyDeleteLove the medal Matt! The kids want to see it, and then give you lots of high fives! We have quite the jiggers in the family. Love to see Marty in the background getting some rest!
ReplyDeleteLet's get the pancake sized medal next year!...
ReplyDeleteGood job!