Change of theme, change of language. From now on this blog will live up to its url, focusing mostly on 42km long runs, running in general, but also including forays into other subjects that may be completely unrelated to running. My native Malta will only feature insofar as running is concerned, otherwise Run 42k from now on is based in Belgium, or shall I rather say in Europe.
This blog already features a beginner's schedule for building up to a marathon: one of the links on the left under "Subjects". It's quite interesting, I have to say... I intend to include articles on running from a personal perspective, therefore including accounts of my more important runs (I'm being optimistic here, since my return to running after a six-month stop - and still counting - due to injury is very much in the balance...), plus uploading and hopefully continuing a series of articles on 'Exotic Marathons' that I had researched a good while ago.
Malta and the many interesting goings on there will feature in my other blog, in the Maltese language - "Mill-Gallarija".
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Monday, September 20, 2010
Malta: 46 sena nazzjon
Is-sliem lil Malta indipendenti, il-veru u l-uniku jum nazzjonali ta' pajjiżna. Tal-biki li l-jum meta Malta saret nazzjon hi l-okkażjoni biex nenfasizzaw il-firda ta' bejn iż-żewġ tribujiet. Iridu jibdew tal-PN - Jum l-Indipendenza MHUX il-ġurnata meta għandek torganizza mass meeting partiġġjan!
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Eroj nazzjonali...
Meta jmut xi ħadd b'inċident tat-traffiku ma jmurx il-President ta' Malta għall-funeral, u lanqas il-Prim Ministru jew il-Kap tal-Oppożizzjoni.
Meta jmut xi ħadd b'overdose tad-drogi ma jmurx il-President ta' Malta għall-funeral, u lanqas il-Prim Ministru jew il-Kap tal-Oppożizzjoni.
U lanqas ma l-President ta' Malta, il-Prim Ministru jew il-Kap tal-Oppożizzjoni ma marru l-funerali ta' bosta nies eżemplari li naf jien, li ddedikaw ħajjithom kollha għall-familja tagħhom li tant kienu jħobbu.
Imma mbagħad xi ħadd li kapriċċożament iħalli 'l martu armla u wliedu ltiema biex joqgħod jilgħab bil-bombi... dak eroj nazzjonali, kważi l-ekwivalenti ta' funeral statali jagħmlulu. Fuq quddiem nett tarahom il-President ta' Malta, il-Prim Ministru u l-Kap tal-Oppożizzjoni.
Le, le, veru qegħdin sew. Għandhom il-prijoritajiet f'posthom l-għeżież mexxejja politiċi ta' Malta...
Meta jmut xi ħadd b'overdose tad-drogi ma jmurx il-President ta' Malta għall-funeral, u lanqas il-Prim Ministru jew il-Kap tal-Oppożizzjoni.
U lanqas ma l-President ta' Malta, il-Prim Ministru jew il-Kap tal-Oppożizzjoni ma marru l-funerali ta' bosta nies eżemplari li naf jien, li ddedikaw ħajjithom kollha għall-familja tagħhom li tant kienu jħobbu.
Imma mbagħad xi ħadd li kapriċċożament iħalli 'l martu armla u wliedu ltiema biex joqgħod jilgħab bil-bombi... dak eroj nazzjonali, kważi l-ekwivalenti ta' funeral statali jagħmlulu. Fuq quddiem nett tarahom il-President ta' Malta, il-Prim Ministru u l-Kap tal-Oppożizzjoni.
Le, le, veru qegħdin sew. Għandhom il-prijoritajiet f'posthom l-għeżież mexxejja politiċi ta' Malta...
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Viva l-festa
Minn hawn nixtieq nawgura lill-Kappillan u lill-kumitat tal-festa tax-Xagħra Għawdex li jkollhom festa sabiħa, mimlija briju u divertiment, u li llejla jidħlu jorqdu b'moħħhom mistrieħ u l-kuxjenza safja. Nawguralhom ukoll li l-eluf ta' ewri li ntefqu għall-festa tax-Xagħra "ma jkunux intefqu għalxejn", kif qal kummentatur fit-Times. X'nitmellħu mis-sitta min-nies li nqatlu jumejn ilu u splodew l-eluf l-oħra li kienu ntefqu għan-nar tal-istess festa...
Dawk kollha f'Malta li jgħidu li huwa "inimmaġinabbli" li jkun hemm festa tar-raħal bla nar (kif kien hemm fl-editorjal tal-Independent ilbieraħ), jistgħu jmorru sax-Xagħra biex jistimulaw ftit l-immaġinazzjoni.
U jaħasra setgħu użaw waħda minn dawn il-fabbriki minflok għan-nar...
Dawk kollha f'Malta li jgħidu li huwa "inimmaġinabbli" li jkun hemm festa tar-raħal bla nar (kif kien hemm fl-editorjal tal-Independent ilbieraħ), jistgħu jmorru sax-Xagħra biex jistimulaw ftit l-immaġinazzjoni.
U jaħasra setgħu użaw waħda minn dawn il-fabbriki minflok għan-nar...
Monday, September 6, 2010
Nies bla sinsla
Il-pulċinelli ddeċidew iwaqqfu bord ta' inkjesta biex jinvestiga l-materjali li qed jagħmlu l-bombi tal-festi bihom.
Isma' din, mela. Għandna suspett li l-materjali li jagħmlu l-bombi tal-festi bihom huma difettużi. Qed isiru splużjonijiet kbar fil-kmamar tan-nar, regolarment kull ftit ġimgħat. Kull darba qed imutu n-nies: ilbieraħ mietu erba' jew ħamsa, u tnejn oħra maħruqa ġisimhom kollu jilagħbuha mal-mewt. Familji sħaħ devastati. Ir-raħal tal-Għarb b'ħafna mid-djar ġratilhom ħsara strutturali. Il-gżejjer Maltin ġew f'sitwazzjoni li tixbah stat ta' gwerra, jew taħt theddida terroristika, ma tafx fejn imiss tfaqqa' splużjoni ġo nofs il-kampanja. Għandna suspett li l-kmamar tan-nar li għadhom ma splodewx jistgħu jisplodu huma wkoll, għax il-materjali li jagħmlu l-bombi bihom difettużi.
U x'inhi t-tweġiba tal-mexxejja għorrief li għandna? Waqqfu l-produzzjoni tal-logħob tan-nar sakemm tiġi stabbilita l-kawża tad-devastazzjoni? Jingħalqu l-kmamar tan-nar, għax perikolużi wisq, sakemm jitneħħa l-materjal kollu difettuż?
Le, ma tarax! Trid jissugraw jiksruha mad-dilettanti tal-kamikaże tradizzjonali? Ma tafx li dawn NIES BLA SINSLA?
Iparlaw fil-vojt fuq il-valuri. Jidhirli l-ħajja valur importanti. Jidhirli s-sens ta' sigurtà għal min għaddej jgħix ħajtu għall-affari tiegħu valur importanti. Jidhirli li l-fatt li t-tfal ma jisfgħux iltiema minn missierhom hu valur importanti. Imma għal dawn in-NIES BLA SINSLA, l-uniku valur huwa l-vot.
Sinjuri NIES BLA SINSLA. Għandkom il-voti tal-fanatiċi tal-bombi assigurati, dejjem jekk jinzertaw jagħmlu parti mill-istess tribù tagħkom. Imma l-vot tiegħi tliftuh.
Isma' din, mela. Għandna suspett li l-materjali li jagħmlu l-bombi tal-festi bihom huma difettużi. Qed isiru splużjonijiet kbar fil-kmamar tan-nar, regolarment kull ftit ġimgħat. Kull darba qed imutu n-nies: ilbieraħ mietu erba' jew ħamsa, u tnejn oħra maħruqa ġisimhom kollu jilagħbuha mal-mewt. Familji sħaħ devastati. Ir-raħal tal-Għarb b'ħafna mid-djar ġratilhom ħsara strutturali. Il-gżejjer Maltin ġew f'sitwazzjoni li tixbah stat ta' gwerra, jew taħt theddida terroristika, ma tafx fejn imiss tfaqqa' splużjoni ġo nofs il-kampanja. Għandna suspett li l-kmamar tan-nar li għadhom ma splodewx jistgħu jisplodu huma wkoll, għax il-materjali li jagħmlu l-bombi bihom difettużi.
U x'inhi t-tweġiba tal-mexxejja għorrief li għandna? Waqqfu l-produzzjoni tal-logħob tan-nar sakemm tiġi stabbilita l-kawża tad-devastazzjoni? Jingħalqu l-kmamar tan-nar, għax perikolużi wisq, sakemm jitneħħa l-materjal kollu difettuż?
Le, ma tarax! Trid jissugraw jiksruha mad-dilettanti tal-kamikaże tradizzjonali? Ma tafx li dawn NIES BLA SINSLA?
Iparlaw fil-vojt fuq il-valuri. Jidhirli l-ħajja valur importanti. Jidhirli s-sens ta' sigurtà għal min għaddej jgħix ħajtu għall-affari tiegħu valur importanti. Jidhirli li l-fatt li t-tfal ma jisfgħux iltiema minn missierhom hu valur importanti. Imma għal dawn in-NIES BLA SINSLA, l-uniku valur huwa l-vot.
Sinjuri NIES BLA SINSLA. Għandkom il-voti tal-fanatiċi tal-bombi assigurati, dejjem jekk jinzertaw jagħmlu parti mill-istess tribù tagħkom. Imma l-vot tiegħi tliftuh.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Don't read this post
Don't read this post. It will be a pathetic whine from start to finish.
Last winter, that's seven months ago, I was preparing for my twelfth marathon, scheduled for May 2010 in Prague. Training was going reasonably well: I've gained enough experience by now to know exactly what training I need to run a marathon.
The winter weather was particularly harsh this year, with lots of snow and sub-zero temperatures resulting in snowbound surroundings for a good number of weeks. I had to keep training to maintain my fitness, but the extra effort to stay upright in slippery conditions may have been too much of a strain for my leg muscles. This didn't show at all in a 20k race in the beginning of February, which I ran exceptionally well, establishing my best time in three participations in this race.
Little did I know it was to be my last hurrah for a long spell. One or two weeks later the ground was snowed under once again, and at the very end of one particular Sunday long run I suddenly felt pain at the back of my thigh as I was going the short uphill stretch back home. Two days later I went out for a speed session on a snowbound Cinquantenaire Park close to the office, but I couldn't proceed because of two simultaneous pains: a sharp pain with each step in my right achilles tendon, and another pain in my left hamstring. The alarm bells had sounded: I had to take a break from training until I recovered.
But the pain never went away. Three weeks later, after several false starts, it was late March - just six weeks before the marathon - and my training nowhere near good enough to undertake such a strenuous event. I had to face up to the fact that it was bye-bye Prague marathon. It wasn't easy to accept, more so since all had been booked, and I actually went there with my loved ones for a (still greatly enjoyable) spring holiday there. On marathon day, from the roadside next to the Vltava river, I encouraged some of my fellow competitors who, unlike me, had made it to the start, and as I saw them slogging along in such beautiful surroundings I promised myself that in 2011 I'd go back to conquer the Prague marathon.
That was last May. Now it's four months later, and that's how long I have been planning my comeback, postponing it by a month each time. For a while I tried cycling, which went very well, but the injury persisted. So I stopped cycling, waited a while, then while in Malta in July I took up swimming. This, too, was very enjoyable, but the injury persisted. So after that I decided not to do anything at all, just allowing the injured muscle to rest. Back in rainy Belgium I was given anti-inflammatory medication, and the situation improved dramatically. I would wait a few more days after the end of the medication, so as not to rush things, then it would be time for my much-awaited comeback, this coming Sunday.
Except that the few more days (so as not to rush things) have revealed that the medication was only masking the pain, and today it feels as if I back to square one. It's a bitter blow. I'm beginning to fear that my running days are over. I don't want to even contemplate not doing any sport at all. Maybe I'll take up cycling and swimming again, and to hell with the injury. Complete rest didn't result in any progress, so I may as well do those activities that I can do, while I can, instead of becoming a couch potato.
So why am I writing all this, a cri de coeur as a dear hierarchical superior would call it? Well, I needed to. A few days ago I saw people jogging along merrily in the pretty Bois de la Cambre in Brussels, enjoying the mild temperatures of the late Belgian summer under the shade provided by the trees there. I saw pictures from back in Malta, where friends of mine undertook a 'Hellfire triathlon' last Sunday. I would love to start doing these activities again, but I cannot, which is why I feel so frustrated at my situation. As I've just remarked to a friend of mine on Facebook, seeing those pictures made me want to cry.
Let's say this is a way for me to vent my frustration. I did warn at the beginning not to read this, didn't I?
P.S. the funny thing is that the label I'm attaching to this post is "My runs", when it actually refers to the exact opposite. Let's say I'm placing it in this category in the sense of "my running chronicles"...
Last winter, that's seven months ago, I was preparing for my twelfth marathon, scheduled for May 2010 in Prague. Training was going reasonably well: I've gained enough experience by now to know exactly what training I need to run a marathon.
The winter weather was particularly harsh this year, with lots of snow and sub-zero temperatures resulting in snowbound surroundings for a good number of weeks. I had to keep training to maintain my fitness, but the extra effort to stay upright in slippery conditions may have been too much of a strain for my leg muscles. This didn't show at all in a 20k race in the beginning of February, which I ran exceptionally well, establishing my best time in three participations in this race.
Little did I know it was to be my last hurrah for a long spell. One or two weeks later the ground was snowed under once again, and at the very end of one particular Sunday long run I suddenly felt pain at the back of my thigh as I was going the short uphill stretch back home. Two days later I went out for a speed session on a snowbound Cinquantenaire Park close to the office, but I couldn't proceed because of two simultaneous pains: a sharp pain with each step in my right achilles tendon, and another pain in my left hamstring. The alarm bells had sounded: I had to take a break from training until I recovered.
But the pain never went away. Three weeks later, after several false starts, it was late March - just six weeks before the marathon - and my training nowhere near good enough to undertake such a strenuous event. I had to face up to the fact that it was bye-bye Prague marathon. It wasn't easy to accept, more so since all had been booked, and I actually went there with my loved ones for a (still greatly enjoyable) spring holiday there. On marathon day, from the roadside next to the Vltava river, I encouraged some of my fellow competitors who, unlike me, had made it to the start, and as I saw them slogging along in such beautiful surroundings I promised myself that in 2011 I'd go back to conquer the Prague marathon.
That was last May. Now it's four months later, and that's how long I have been planning my comeback, postponing it by a month each time. For a while I tried cycling, which went very well, but the injury persisted. So I stopped cycling, waited a while, then while in Malta in July I took up swimming. This, too, was very enjoyable, but the injury persisted. So after that I decided not to do anything at all, just allowing the injured muscle to rest. Back in rainy Belgium I was given anti-inflammatory medication, and the situation improved dramatically. I would wait a few more days after the end of the medication, so as not to rush things, then it would be time for my much-awaited comeback, this coming Sunday.
Except that the few more days (so as not to rush things) have revealed that the medication was only masking the pain, and today it feels as if I back to square one. It's a bitter blow. I'm beginning to fear that my running days are over. I don't want to even contemplate not doing any sport at all. Maybe I'll take up cycling and swimming again, and to hell with the injury. Complete rest didn't result in any progress, so I may as well do those activities that I can do, while I can, instead of becoming a couch potato.
So why am I writing all this, a cri de coeur as a dear hierarchical superior would call it? Well, I needed to. A few days ago I saw people jogging along merrily in the pretty Bois de la Cambre in Brussels, enjoying the mild temperatures of the late Belgian summer under the shade provided by the trees there. I saw pictures from back in Malta, where friends of mine undertook a 'Hellfire triathlon' last Sunday. I would love to start doing these activities again, but I cannot, which is why I feel so frustrated at my situation. As I've just remarked to a friend of mine on Facebook, seeing those pictures made me want to cry.
Let's say this is a way for me to vent my frustration. I did warn at the beginning not to read this, didn't I?
P.S. the funny thing is that the label I'm attaching to this post is "My runs", when it actually refers to the exact opposite. Let's say I'm placing it in this category in the sense of "my running chronicles"...
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