Thoughts and happenings from a life on Malta

Outside, the greyness is flooding the skies this morning, with the possibility of lightning. Inside, the lactic acid is spreading through the thigh muscles, injecting them with flashes of pain. Other runners might see this as a mark of the warrior having survived the battle but in my eyes it is more prosaic. It is merely a painful confirmation that I gave my utmost for a bit more than one-and-a-half hours but which I’ll have to suffer for over the next 72.

I kept my word and not once did I check the stopwatch. I had to make an extra effort though when I came to Msida because the gentle elevation opposite the parish church just made me want to tilt my head towards the clock tower. It was another test of will-power to keep my gaze from drifting upwards so I was relieved when I ran past it, still oblivious to the time I was doing.

In the post, “Thoughts from the day before“, I remarked that my shoes were being retired in the blaze of glory of an international event. The finishing straight at the Sliema Ferries did a Venice impression with sea-water reclaiming its former territory, consequently my Asics GT-2120 underwent a baptism rather than the final rites, as I sprinted to the finish line. However, looking at my sports log book, I realize that they have at least another 200km of life left in them, thus making them born-again trainers!

Did anyone else smell the pine trees as we turned into the crafts village at Ta’ Qali?  For those (too) few seconds, I was transported to the bosk known as Mizieb (survey maps refer to it as Bajda ridge), which is my home training ground. To think that exactly 2 weeks prior to this race, I ran and scrambled and even trod gingerly the equivalent distance over more challenging terrain (One helluva run).

Which leads me to the “What now” question. Trail races is the answer. Assuming an uneventful recovery, I really would like to try my hand – or should that be my feet – at racing over rough terrain. Come August there’s the Hellfire event locally but before that I might cross over to Sicily and do something there. Until then, I’ll keep on taking it one steady step at a time.

The day before the half-marathon, that is. I am in the enviable position of having a complete absence of pre-race nerves, an affliction which I’m not generally immune to. So what is this secret vaccine? Unlike the majority of fellow runners, I have not been training specifically for this event and consequently, I have no target finish time weighing heavily on my shoulders. I can approach the start with a certain lightness in my step and an ease of mind.

Being laid back about the race doesn’t mean I won’t give it my best shot. Analysing the results obtained in the Mdina to Spinola race and the Ta’ Qali 10k, a 1:32 – 1:34 should be on the cards. However, I won’t be glancing anxiously at the stopwatch or have it set to beep at a prescribed time every kilometre. Instead, the pace will be dictated by the sensations and situation on the day.

If I had a choice from the weather menu, hot and sunny would be my selection, with wind an acceptable side dish. A no-no is the cold, which can dampen my mood more than any downpour.

This is going to be the swansong for my current pair of Ascis GT-2120 running shoes. As they’re approaching the 800km life span I give road shoes, is there a better way for them to go than by crossing the finish line at an international event? It’s the equivalent to a Hollywood movie’s “riding into the sunset” finale.

1121. Not a particularly inspiring number to pin on the vest but I hope the right combination of its digits will hit next Wednesday’s Super 5 jackpot. That would certainly beat the marathon winner’s prize money by far!

Confession. I haven’t studied the route. I’m aware that it’s not the same as the last time I ran it, which is so far back that I don’t even remember when it was. I’m relishing this element of surprise; an adventurer on the road of discovery.

Slap it on….dollops….especially since last Wednesday’s speed work left me with bloodied inner thighs and overly sensitive nipples. A tub of Vaseline is a must-have in the kit bag.

And here lies: Thoughts from the day after