It's snowing in 's-Hertogenbosch. Cool! I have never seen snow fall before, so this is distracting me from my work. I would like to stand by the window and watch it.
posted by James 10:31 am
I am very pleased that I have carried through my goal of completing a marathon during my traineeship. The marathon is an excellent metaphor for any goal that takes a lot of effort to achieve. Now, whenever I am having difficulty with any goal, I can look to the marathon as an example of what I can do if I am patient and persistent.
I intend to start running again on Sunday. Lia has also found me some information about playing squash in Tilburg. I can get a membership card for the sports centre, or I can pay on a "per visit" basis. I would love to play some squash because it is inside (it's getting colder here!) and it will add some variety to my fitness routine.
A new trainee arrived last night. His name is Gorken and he is from Ankara, Turkey. The AIESECers had picked him up from Schiphol and I caught up with all of them, after work, at the 's-Hertogenbosch train station. He is a nice guy and seems keen to learn from his traineeship experience. During his first week, like me, he will have dinners at various AIESECers' places, as an introduction to the local committee. We (the other trainees) will be having dinner with him on Friday night.
In general, I feel pleased with my life right now. Work is more comfortable and I have a nice set of friends among AIESECers, other trainees, housemates, work colleagues and other people I have met in Europe. I am excited about the next three months because there is so much for me to do. Time seems to be going by faster, so I am trying to "appreciate the moment" more. New Zealand also beckons with other opportunities, so it will be great to return there next year. Yes, I am feeling content with my situation.
posted by James 8:46 am
On Friday night, I had dinner at Vincent’s place (an AIESECer). It was promoted as a reception event, but ended up being a cozy dinner with just the four of us. Afterwards, I walked the route of the bus with the intention of catching it at the next stop. I never saw it. When I reached the main road, I decided that I may as well walk the rest of the way home. My foot felt fine and it was already past 9pm, so I chose not to go for the test run.
After a short sleep-in on Saturday, I packed my running gear and other essentials for the weekend trip to Amsterdam. I bought lots of bananas (runner’s breakfast) and fruit drinks at the supermarket. I also got some pepernoten as a “study snack” for Karin. (I was staying at her place on Saturday night). I was on the train to Amsterdam by 11am, listening to a CD.
Once I arrived in Amsterdam, I asked for directions to the Sporthallen Zuid. This was the “home” of the marathon – there was a place to register, a cafe and a “market” of stalls promoting running products and other marathons. The sports hall was a five-minute walk from the Olympic Stadium, where the marathon started and finished. I found it easy to reach (from both the Centraal Station and Karin’s place) by the metro system.
I registered for the marathon and received a race pack. This contained a few interesting things – my race numbers, the timing chip (to be attached to my shoe), pins for the numbers, lip balm and special ING sponsored “nipple tape”. I was asked for my predicted time (4 hours 30 minutes) and was given a green band which detailed the split times, for each 5km, that I should aim for, in order to attain my stated time. (It seemed like a good idea at the time, but I ended up not wearing it during the race). After registering, I walked around the marathon market and bought myself the official marathon t-shirt.
In the afternoon, I met Sabrina, a trainee from Australia who is doing a living in Amsterdam. She originally came from India. We went to her place, near Vondel Park, drank tea and chatted. I learnt that she works for a company that make timing devices similar to what I had to wear during the marathon. The office is in Haarlem, so she must wake up early to catch the train each morning. I think there are many trainees in The Netherlands who live and work in different cities.
While we were talking about the marathon, Sabrina asked me, “Do you do hash?” OK, so we are in The Netherlands, but this line of questioning came as a surprise. After noticing my reaction, she clarified that “hash” is a club that combines running and drinking (presumably in that order).
At around 5pm, we headed back to the Leidseplein to meet Keiko, another Amsterdam trainee, from Japan. Her traineeship is only for three months and she has already been here for two of those. She hasn’t been anywhere in the Netherlands outside Amsterdam, so I strongly encouraged her to attend one of the upcoming reception weekends.
We visited the “Torture Museum”, a short walk away on the Singel. The museum displayed various tools of torture, used in Europe, from the Middle Ages until a few centuries ago. I was confused about how most of them worked, until I looked at the accompanying illustrations. The typical torture instrument was based on sharp objects and the use of weights. For instance, the victim would sit on a wooden, triangular, horse-like structure and weights were attached to his feet. Another tool, the “flute of shame” employed thumb screws. These methods weren’t designed to kill, but only to extract a “confession”. Tools like these were commonly used in the criminal justice systems of the time.
We walked to Keiko’s place for dinner. She lives in the same building as the rest of the Amsterdam trainees (excluding Sabrina). On the way, we passed by the Dam Square where there was a fair going on. I bought some Oliebollen because I had the opportunity.
At Keiko’s place, I met Cibele (Brazil), Roman (Poland), Joe and Elaine (both from China). We all helped prepare the dinner. Cibele showed us how to make Caiparinha. We used vodka and also made one with red wine. I didn’t have too much of it because of my running in the marathon the next day.
I had left my big backpack at Sabrina’s place, so we left early. I didn’t want to get to Karin’s place too late. I caught a few trams to get there – going back to the Centraal Station, before catching the metro to reach Uilenstede. This was an unnecessarily long trip, but I wanted to be sure of reaching the right place.
Karin is studying for exams, so she was busy doing that when I arrived. I set out my gear for the next day, had a shower and went to bed. There was no extra matress, so Karin and I slept on her double bed, top and tail style.
I asked for an early wake up. I wanted to eat breakfast with plenty of time to spare before the marathon. I also wanted to get to the marathon village with at least an hour to spare – to absorb the atmosphere of the event and to ensure that I was where I was supposed to be on time.
I arrived at the marathon village just after 9am, but instead of going straight inside, I visited the Olympic Stadium. I wanted to be familiar with where the start was and take a photo from inside the stadium. I remember walking to the stadium thinking, “I wish that my Dad were here, to experience my first marathon with me.” I took a photo from inside the stadium, with the start line in the distance, then I walked back to the sports hall.
I found a place to sit in one of the stands overlooking the main hall, had some more breakfast (a banana and a fruit drink) and relaxed by listening to some music. I stayed here until 10am. Then, I made my way to the changing rooms to remove my tracksuit pants and jumper and apply plenty of Vaseline to those areas most likely to be affected by friction. I put lots of Vaseline over the ING nipple tape, just to be sure.
I had packed far too much in my small bag, so with my tracksuit pants and jumper, it was fit to burst! I still had a banana and a drink left, so I had to abandon these outside. I put them behind a pole next to the building, knowing very well that they would probably be gone by the time I returned later.
A lot of people were wearing shorts over polypropylene long pants, t-shirts and gloves. I was wearing what I would normally wear for a run – short shorts and a singlet. It was a cold morning, so I was debating whether to wear my marathon t-shirt which I also had in my bag (for wearing afterwards). I decided against it. I think this was a good decision, because the weather turned out to be excellent and I felt comfortable in what I was wearing.
I warmed up with a slow jog to the Olympic Stadium. There was an official at the gate only allowing in those people whom had race numbers. I continued with my warm up by jogging around the track, up to the start line and back to the entrance. I completed my usual stretching routine and wandered over to where I would start the race. I kept myself warm by rubbing my legs and hands and gently jogging on the spot. The starting area was divided into sections – where you started depended on your predicted finishing time. With my prediction of 4 hours 30 minutes, I started in the penultimate section.
The Olympic Stadium has two covered stands – each one is centred on the longer stretches of the running track. The stands were full of people supporting the runners. They were whistling and waving to those that they recognised on the track.
The race started at 11am with the crack of a gun. However, due to my place in the starting field, I didn’t start moving for another 30 seconds. It was three minutes later before I finally crossed the starting line.
Naturally, the marathon course was very flat. As you ran the course, you experienced a lot of Amsterdam – the Rijksmuseum, Vondel Park, the Amstel River, the older centrum and the newer outlying suburbs. The crowd support was very motivating – at every stage of the race, there were people along the road side, blowing whistles and giving encouraging remarks. Children would stick out an open palm, inviting a “low five”. There were a few bands positioned around the marathon course, their drums helpfully beating in time with my running rhythm.
Here are some of the highlights from the marathon, with what I was thinking at the time, in speech marks:
1km. 6 minutes 32 seconds. “This seems slow, but I guess that’s alright because I am trying to run slow during the early part of the race.” I was also being very careful about watching where I was running, so I didn’t twist an ankle.
1-2km. Lots of runners were looking for any tree or bush to hide behind, and urinate. “I’m glad that I took care of that before the race started. I wouldn’t want to waste time doing that during the race.”
2km. 12 minutes and 35 seconds. “Whoa! I really increased the pace for that last kilometre. I wonder if I am going too fast?”
5km. 31 minutes. “Damn. My right foot is hurting again. It’s not too painful, though, I can probably run the pain away”.
7km. 43 minutes. The smaller loop was complete and we did a full lap of the track inside the Olympic stadium. It was a great feeling going through the entrance tunnel again, with lots of spectators cheering.
9.5km. 58 minutes. I took a detour off the course to find a bush to urinate behind.
10km. 1 hour 1 minute. “Cool. I seem to have settled on a 6 min/km pace. I think I will try to maintain this pace for a while”.
13-22km. We ran alongside the Amstel River, mostly on what appeared to be one-way roads. Because the course doubled back on itself, you could see runners on the other side of the river, going in the opposite direction.
21.1km. (Halfway). 2 hours 7 minutes. “Alright, I know this is a slow pace because I can do a half marathon in 1 hour 40 minutes. Still, it is a good pace. If I can keep this up, then I will easily break 4 hours 30 minutes.”
23km. 2 hours 17 minutes 40 seconds. “Whoa! I’m under 6 min/km pace for the whole race now. I wonder what Dad got in his first marathon? I know it was 4 hours something. Wouldn’t it be cool if I could beat that! OK, brain, shut up. It’s too early to think that way. Let’s get to 30km and then we’ll see if we can go faster”.
24.5km. “Damn it! My hamstring hurts. Maybe I should go over to the side and stretch it? No, don’t worry. I’ll run a bit further and see how it feels.”
26km. I caught up to a group of people lead by someone with a sign on his back saying 4’15. This group was aiming to finish the marathon in 4 hours 15 minutes. I decided to stick with them for a while.
28km. “My legs are feeling heavy. But there’s such a long way to go! I’ve got to make it to the 30km mark. Then, at least, I can have a drink.”
30km. 3 hours 3 minutes. “I can do this. I can do this. Just keep going, step by step. Take it one kilometer at a time. My next milestone is the 31km mark. I can do this!”
31km. 3 hours 9 minutes. “Come on! Just 4 more kilometers, then I can have another drink stop.”
32km. 3 hours 15 minutes. “You’re going to finish this run. Then, you can drive down to Georgie Pie and buy two mince pies and two apple and blackberry pies. Yum! No, you stupid! You can’t do that. You’re not in New Zealand, you don’t have a car, it’s not 1995 and Georgie Pie no longer exists. You will just have to get some frites met. Hmmmm… frites met… hmmmm.”
35km. 3 hours 33 minutes. “Yes! I’m taking 3 of those cups of energy drink, and a sponge of cold water for my face. Should I start walking? No! I can run! It’s so hard to start running again, once you have stopped.”
35.4km. 3 hours 36 minutes. “Come on! Where is that damn 36km marker!”
39.8km. 4 hours 2 minutes. “I give up. This is too hard for me. I’ve got to walk the rest of the way.” Actually, even walking was difficult. At that point, I was moving on adrenaline and the desire to finish the race. “OK, you can still finish the race. It’s easy, you have almost another 2 hours to do this before you run out of time. Ha!”
41.2km. (1km to go). 4 hours 20 minutes. There are so many people lining the street leading back to the Olympic Stadium. They are all cheering. And, I’m just walking. “Shame. I’m just walking. But at least I’m still going. I will surely finish this.”
41.9km. 4 hours 26 minutes 30 seconds. I saw a marathon runner, collapsed and unable to stand by himself, being helped off the ground by one of the officials. He was so close to the finish. I felt so much empathy for him and what his body must have been going through, right then. “That does it! I want to experience running into the Olympic Stadium and running across the finish line. I’m going to run, NOT walk!”
So, I ran the last 300 metres. There was still a sizable crowd in the stadium. I had a huge smile on my face as I ran (in pain) down the final straight and across the finishing line. I stopped my watch and looked down at the time.
4 hours, 28 minutes and 20 seconds. I was pleased, mostly because I had finished. And, it was nice that I had gone under my prediction of 4 hours 30 minutes, just.
Once I was across the line, an official put a finisher’s medal around my neck, and someone else helped me put on an orange, plastic top (like a raincoat) to keep me warm. I walked, on auto-pilot, further around the track and got a bottle of sports drink. I really just wanted to collapse. It was impossible for me to sit down normally. All I could do was fall down, then adjust my body into the correct position afterwards.
My legs felt so sore. It was painful to bend them at the knees, so I found it easiest to walk by taking small steps. I did my post-run stretches, even though they were difficult. Even holding the calf muscle stretch was painful, a muscle seemed to spasm in my leg after only five seconds. I returned my timing chip, and hobbled back to the marathon market. I was cold, because I had walked for most of the last 3km of the race and I had cooled down from after the run.
I went inside and got my bag from the storage area. I sat down for five minutes, doing nothing but resting, not really wanting to move. I walked slowly to the main hall, where I had been that morning, found a seat and took off my shoes. I meticulously put on the rest of my clothes, over the top of my running gear. More layers would keep me warm. I spent another 15 minutes there, resting, and rubbing my legs and feet, making them feel less painful.
After leaving the sports hall, I checked the pole behind which I had left that banana and drink from the morning. To my surprise, they were both untouched. The seal on the drink wasn’t broken, so it seemed alright to claim it back. Cool! Extra food to take home. I also had a big craving for hot chips with mayonnaise.
I caught the metro back to Karin’s place, had a shower and packed my bags for home. I wanted to get back to Tilburg at a time when I would be sure of catching a bus from the station home.
I sent SMSes to my sister and Natasha telling them how I went in the marathon. I received congratulatory SMSes in reply, which was nice.
On the way home, while waiting for my next train at ’s-Hertogenbosch, I called Dad and spoke with him about the marathon. He took 4 hours and 6 minutes for his first marathon, but only took 3 hours 25 minutes in the next one. That is a huge improvement. I guess that training for a second marathon is easier once you have already had the first marathon experience – you know what to expect.
Patience is also a key value. It is important to be disciplined with a long training schedule and, on the race day, not run too fast too early. I will keep this in mind for my next marathon.
In Tilburg, there were no chip shops open, so I couldn’t satisfy my craving. I just had a big bowl of pasta and tuna for dinner, once I got home.
I spent all of Monday at home, giving my legs the opportunity to recuperate.
posted by James 7:05 pm