Less than 3 minutes-reading
I remember myself running barefoot from one point to another in the garden of the village. We used to do races with my brothers just to discover who could be able to run over the tiny sharp stones as long as possible. Evenings always ended with red feet. It was a mad way to spend a childhood, but I really never appreciated objects -outdoor activities were always a better plan than TV or computers.
Sometimes people ask me since when I run. At the beginning I used to try to figure out an exact moment of my life -that’s because humans we usually need distances, exact dates, places or bib-numbers just to verify a story. Then, I understood that running has always meant a way of expression.
The fact is, my parents never took me to the mountains, or campings, or nature at all. We were 10 brothers and sisters so logistics always put us on troubles to do road trips. I was too young to take a car and no trails surrounded the area. Unfortunately, I am not the personification of natural human that was born in a valley. I am more a village-city product with the desire of discovery and run, meet the mountains and their beauty.
However, from young ages to adolescence I played football in several teams. It was an easy and accessible way to burn my energy. But the need to run (yeah, it was something quasi-animal) became evident, a football field was already small. Things got in troubles when my aunt (who always used to run) said: – hey, would you be able to run a marathon someday? After one week, I bought a pair of shoes and I told my mum that I would run a marathon. I was 16 years old. I promised my aunt to finish in less than 4 hours (Why? No fucking idea, 4 hours sounded good). At that moment we were training 3-times + 1 match per week. That, with 3 days of running, meant no rest at all. But the coach did not know that, so the 0 experience together with silence led me to a marathon line.
I was 16 so I had to race with an adult bib-number (I definitely do not recommend that but I can be really persistent). I did not have too much money so I ran with a 10 euro watch from Decathlon. I wrote some pace times in my arm. I finished the 42km with 3h and 56min. Of course, the photo above is before the race. After the event, I kept that big smile but with the particularity of having 2 legs less during 3 days. I do not regret at all.
By the way, when did all begin? Before my first marathon? After? That’s the idea, will we stop being runners when we stop racing?
See you soon!!