April 14 , 2005

4 down - 3 to go!

It wasn’t exactly a tiptoe through the tulips, but then again, it was a heckuva lot easier than dodging penguins and running over glaciers…

Marathon #4 in Rotterdam is history. My time on Sunday was terrible. My preparation wasn’t exactly Olympic class – I spent the seven nights prior to the marathon in seven different cities – or make that seven different “beds”, since two of the nights were spent in plane seats on red-eye flights….(I gave new meaning to 7in7on7!).

Linda and I arrived in Amsterdam on Saturday morning, April 9th and immediately took the short 45 minute train ride to Rotterdam. Since most of Rotterdam was destroyed during the war, it’s a “new” city. There is an architectural exuberance that exists there that I’ve encountered in very few other cities. There are architectural experiments all over the city, some of which work in my opinion and others that don’t. But the overall effect is one of fun and youth and excitement.

We stayed at the Rotterdam Hilton which was at the marathon start – never have I been in better location for a race start. I thought it was peculiar that the race didn’t begin until 11AM – most marathons begin between 5:30 and 7am, when people are fresh and the streets are fairly clear. We got up, I had a light breakfast, and watched from our 4th floor window as the streets filled with runners. At about 10 minutes until 11am, I sauntered downstairs to the start, having stretched in our room.

There were over 12,000 runners in this 25th edition of the Rotterdam marathon. It was chilly – a very light snow was falling at the start which quickly turned into a misty rain – perfect for staying cool while running. Because I arrived at the start so late, I was way back in line – I didn’t cross the official starting line until 8 minutes after the starting gun fired. One poignant thing happened right before the race started. My mother’s favorite song was from the musical Carousel – You’ll Never Walk Alone. I always remember her appreciating that song, probably because it applied to her condition and her faith. Immediately after the Dutch national anthem, when I was expecting the race to begin, the crowd quieted down, and the band began to play You’ll Never Walk Alone. It gave me goosebumps. It was like Mom was giving this whole project a nod of approval and appreciation.

After I finally crossed the start line, I got into my pace and just enjoyed the scenery. It was a flat course. The crowds at the start were boisterous, and I immediately noticed these bizarrely dressed oompah brass bands that seemed to be every couple hundred yards. There was a band of women dressed in purple FUR, each with blonde braided pigtails and there was a group of guys with red and white striped socks and yellow wooden shoes – and they were some of the more conservatively dressed bands!

As in most marathons, for me the euphoria of the start began waning by 13.1 miles, the halfway mark, and the battle between brain and body commenced (Is this battle beginning earlier with each race???). A wheelchair participant passed me, which is always an inspiration. The crowds kept cheering, albeit halfheartedly, which inspired me. As a runner who always used to be in the top third of the field and now finds himself in the back half, I have a greater appreciation for how hard the middle to back of packers work. The boisterous cheers that the crowd shows to the leader group quiets after 9 or 10 miles. The water stops are littered with the debris of the speedsters. The primary sounds are the lonely footfalls of your fellow runners. The bands aren’t playing as consistently or as enthusiastically. But there is a spirit and a drive and a determination that makes us continue. We’re proving it to ourselves, or we’ve made a pledge or bet with someone, that we can run these 26.2 miles. And it sure feels good to cross that finish line. It was especially great that there was someone there to welcome me back.

After the race, I showered, and Linda and I took a walk around Rotterdam to work out the kinks. We had an absolutely terrible meal in the hotel lobby (which kept me up half the night with “stomach problems”), and the other half of the night was spent trying to calm the hundreds of little muscle spasms that race around my calves after a race.

The next morning we left for Amsterdam. We spent the afternoon at Kukenhof, which is possibly one of the most beautiful places on earth. Acres and acres of tulips. It’s as if someone has taken a giant paintbrush and created multi-acre swaths of brilliant red, yellow, pink, purple, and orange. The heads of the tulips are harvested because the bulbs are all that’s important, so 30 foot high stacks of discarded tulip petals dot the landscape. The Kukenhof garden itself is 80 acres of the most manicured and beautifully landscaped flower beds anywhere, and we were there for the zenith of the growing season. So the marathon fed my body and spirit and the natural beauty of Kukenhof fed my soul. Nice combination.

On the China!