It’s that time of the year! Race season is here. Sunshine, nerves and
the smell of eager runners. I am waiting for the gates to the start
section of a 10K race in Rotterdam. It’s a big race, a total of some
10.000 runners. The atmosphere is great, my legs feel good. ‘’You’ll
never walk alone’’ blasts through the speakers and sends shivers down my
spine.
Perhaps because it is the start of my race season. Time
for a form check. The other runners feel the same. Happy chatter about
races you will do/did last year/dream of doing. I just love this
atmosphere, an air of expectation.
Perhaps it’s because I am back
at the start of the same race I did as my first-ever 10K, some 12 years
ago. It had taken my coach months to convince me I could do it. I just
didn’t think I could run 10K. I ran it in 47 minutes.
Or perhaps
it is because I know this race report will be one of my first blogs
here, as well as a start sign for my own (online) coaching company.
Super new, a bit scary, but super exciting.
Still standing there,
wanting to get into the start area. There is a bit of fuzz, the gates to
the start area won’t open, we are supposed to go back to the official
entrance of the start area at the end of the street. Surely not an
option for any of the runners waiting! Dutchies are notoriously direct,
straightforward, impatient and sometimes downright rude. No one wants to
be told what to do, it’s the other way around – they tell the security
guards to open the gate. Of course these give in. A few hundred runners
are stronger than 1 man representing authority – right?
I run. It’s been December since last raced and I haven’t done that
much interval training, so I take it easy. Pace starts at 4:05-4:08 but
drops to 4:10-4:16. Oops. Wake up and get back to my pace. It always
takes me a few races to get back to a steady pace. It's so different
from training! We leave the park (oh, in the Netherlands we call it a
‘forest’) and come back to the city center of Rotterdam. It seems like
everyone, regardless of age, athletic, social and ethnic background is
along the course cheering at the runners. One of those rare days where
the population density in Holland is a plus instead of a nuisance.
Just
when I feel that brick wall coming closer, a
guy starts pacing me. He asks “41?” and I just give him a quick nod. He
gestures to follow and paces me the last 2K in headwinds. He even makes
the crowd cheer a little louder for the 12thfemale coming in. Did I mention goosebumps?