A week ago I yearned for the "quiet, peaceful, clean, car-free shaded cool of a forest in Belgium". Well, today I got my forest with a vengeance, but it was just a bit more than I had bargained for...
It was certainly quiet, there were no cars threatening to run me over, it was reasonably cool and also shaded, much too shaded, so shaded that running as I always do without my glasses I could hardly see where I was going and seriously feared twisting an ankle. It was also clean. Well, sort of. That's if you consider ankle-deep mud to be clean. At least there wasn't any vomit on the ground, as there had been in my 'Pigsty Run' of last Sunday.
There's this thing about races in Belgium. If there's a forest in the vicinity, they'll take you there. And they're not happy to simply route them through well-worn and well-made forest paths that are wide enough to allow overtaking, and smooth enough to be suitable for running fast. No! They prefer narrow, treacherous paths, preferably with tree roots growing on the surface, perfectly placed to trip you up. The paths are inclined sideways, with a sharp drop into a ravine next to the lower edge. When it rains, the ground becomes muddy and slippery, so after struggling up a steep hill, side-stepping across a watery trench or sometimes through ankle-deep mud, you get no reprieve at the downhill parts, as you have to be extra careful you don't slip and hurt yourself badly.
I have to admit, irrespective of the horrid ground conditions, that I wasn't in good shape today. It happens sometimes. Maybe I was hampered by the fact that I haven't been doing any speed training recently. Or my legs are tired through too much long distance running. Or the extreme heat of the past three weeks in Malta have sapped my energy resources.
Whatever... I console myself with the fact that, even though this is now my second successive race which ended in disappointment, I'm still doing very well in my long runs, and that's what really matters if I want to run a successful Brussels marathon this October. In fact, as I struggled through the mud of the Kortenberg forest today, I decided to forget about racing and satisfy myself with simply completing the run and avoiding injury, thereby bagging points for the Watermolen Cup.
Back on terra firma in the last kilometre, where I could finally run properly, I tried to re-enter into the spirit of the race by competing and trying to overtake some of those whom I had allowed to pass at the one-man wide passages in the forest. Even this was only a partial success, as I had to contend with an occasional sharp cramp in my left calf. It really wasn't my day today.
At the finish I grabbed and drank a can of mineral water, named Vlaams something and labelled strictly and exclusively in their blessed Vlaams language, then immediately proceeded toward the car to drive back home. They didn't give us any memento or a bottle of beer or wine as most other race organisers do.
Or even a bag of crisps.
It was certainly quiet, there were no cars threatening to run me over, it was reasonably cool and also shaded, much too shaded, so shaded that running as I always do without my glasses I could hardly see where I was going and seriously feared twisting an ankle. It was also clean. Well, sort of. That's if you consider ankle-deep mud to be clean. At least there wasn't any vomit on the ground, as there had been in my 'Pigsty Run' of last Sunday.
There's this thing about races in Belgium. If there's a forest in the vicinity, they'll take you there. And they're not happy to simply route them through well-worn and well-made forest paths that are wide enough to allow overtaking, and smooth enough to be suitable for running fast. No! They prefer narrow, treacherous paths, preferably with tree roots growing on the surface, perfectly placed to trip you up. The paths are inclined sideways, with a sharp drop into a ravine next to the lower edge. When it rains, the ground becomes muddy and slippery, so after struggling up a steep hill, side-stepping across a watery trench or sometimes through ankle-deep mud, you get no reprieve at the downhill parts, as you have to be extra careful you don't slip and hurt yourself badly.
I have to admit, irrespective of the horrid ground conditions, that I wasn't in good shape today. It happens sometimes. Maybe I was hampered by the fact that I haven't been doing any speed training recently. Or my legs are tired through too much long distance running. Or the extreme heat of the past three weeks in Malta have sapped my energy resources.
Whatever... I console myself with the fact that, even though this is now my second successive race which ended in disappointment, I'm still doing very well in my long runs, and that's what really matters if I want to run a successful Brussels marathon this October. In fact, as I struggled through the mud of the Kortenberg forest today, I decided to forget about racing and satisfy myself with simply completing the run and avoiding injury, thereby bagging points for the Watermolen Cup.
Back on terra firma in the last kilometre, where I could finally run properly, I tried to re-enter into the spirit of the race by competing and trying to overtake some of those whom I had allowed to pass at the one-man wide passages in the forest. Even this was only a partial success, as I had to contend with an occasional sharp cramp in my left calf. It really wasn't my day today.
At the finish I grabbed and drank a can of mineral water, named Vlaams something and labelled strictly and exclusively in their blessed Vlaams language, then immediately proceeded toward the car to drive back home. They didn't give us any memento or a bottle of beer or wine as most other race organisers do.
Or even a bag of crisps.
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