The watermelon race - Birzebbuga 10k, 10 July 2009

Birzebbuga, a seaside resort in the south of Malta, the place where I was born, where I spent most of my childhood summers, and where I spent by far the biggest part yet of my working life.

A mid-Mediterranean break in the peak of summer, plus a break from running in Belgium and the Watermolen Cup, started here in Birzebbuga with what I like to call the... 'watermelon' race. It's the St Patrick's AC Birzebbuga 10k, a tough, hot and hilly race, each edition of which ends with juicy chunks of watermelon, very much appreciated by the exhausted, heat-dehydrated athletes!

I ran this race just like a beginner, having as a joke proclaimed to a number of my friends that I would be "the man to beat", and then, foolishly, believing it myself... So I ran too fast right from the start, staying behind my good friend Lee Micallef with the intention of letting him lead the way and then overtaking him at the final sprint. Yeah, sure... perfect strategy.

I did actually stay quite close to him for a good part of the race. But it was bloody hot! It was ever so hilly, although I should have been prepared for that - it's not as if the hills have just grown higher this year, or that they might possibly have shrunk. I also hadn't slept very much the previous night, due to the Air Malta flight being two hours late.

So I wasn't in ideal shape on the day. In the long descent from Hal Far back to Birzebbuga I was already tired, and the killer hill, at the Tal-Papa housing estate, was just around the corner. Surprisingly enough, it was at the final part of this hill that I almost overtook Lee. Another long descent and he literally ran away from me, while I was only interested in finishing the whole damn thing. An old acquaintance who is currently staging quite a good comeback, Antoine Zammit, did what I should have done and what I normally do - came from behind and finished strongly. Him I also didn't see again until at the finish.

A heartbreaking characteristic of this race is that you run right in front of the finish with 2km still to go. There are already the fast finishers doing their cooling down, while you have to sweat out an additional 2km loop. I didn't slow down to a walk at that point only because it wouldn't look good at all in front of so many people. So I stuck it out beyond this point, with the intention of slowing down just as I was out of sight of the crowd. But, somehow, I kept going, and I must say that it was quite an achievement for me, on this day, to actually keep running the whole distance.

The finishing time was a respectable 44:29, only a few seconds more than my 'standard' 44 minutes for a 10k. Very good, in fact, considering all the difficulties mentioned.

Too hot to run in Belgium!

Some runs don't work out as planned.

My training run for today was supposed to be a speed 'intervals' session at the Cinquantenaire Parc, at the mid-day break close to where I work. I knew it was going to be tough, having underslept for a couple of nights, and with the weather getting sunnier and hotter. So I was already doubtful about completing this session successfully.

The first two 1000 metre efforts went reasonably well, and I registered good times in them. But the loop where I do my intervals in the park is practically the only area without any shade, and it was hot! I normally do five efforts, each consisting of 2 laps of 500m, with one lap jog recovery in between. By the end of the fourth effort, which was also completed in a good time, I was so tired that I decided to give up. I was worried of hurting myself or getting heatstroke, so I found a spot in the shade and lay down to recover.

That was it! My training run had been aborted. It rarely happens, but sometimes it does. After a few minutes I resumed the next recovery jog, and embarked on the final 1000 metre effort, but my heart wasn't in it, my legs had turned to jelly, and the effort fizzled into a jog, merging with the routine 'cool down' jog back to the shower at the office.

I reflected a bit on this partial disaster, and realised it's not a disaster at all. There are several positive elements:

1. I'm fully fit to continue training at full blast, not to mention that I consider myself to be in good form.
2. I have still run a distance of 10 km, so my training has not been interrupted at all.
3. It was almost a full regular intervals session - 4 x 1000 metres at a good pace and in blistering conditions are almost equivalent to what I normally do at a speed training session.
4. My target is long distance, the October Brussels marathon to be precise, and long distance training is proceeding perfectly well.
5. I will approach the upcoming Birżebbuġa 10k race with more caution and less overconfidence, which is not a bad idea at all.
6. I will bounce back, as I always do after a partial 'disaster'.

So I decided to list these points here and give myself a boost :-) But I have to admit that this was a novel experience. I never realised it could actually be too hot to run in Belgium!

Machelen, 9.6 km - 0h41:58 - lovely race!

If you're a motorist in Belgium, you had better watch out for the linguistic tangle that is one of the main characteristics of this country. They have this rigid policy that, unless you're in the officially bilingual Brussels, signposting is strictly monolingual. They even go out of their way to black out any writing in the "offensive" language. This policy is vigorously applied in Dutch-speaking Flanders, as a reaction to French-speakers' linguistic chauvinism, to the detriment of the very idea of Belgium as one nation, and of innocent neutrals, especially expatriates who have to learn TWO instead of one new language to integrate properly in this country. It has apparently not occurred to anyone to follow the Brussels region model of two official languages for the whole of Belgium, which would go a long way to eliminate this ridiculous state of affairs and restore national unity.

The monolingual policy is also enforced for signposting of place names. Therefore, if you're in Flanders and you wish to drive to Mons, you will only approach your desired destination by following the signs to... Bergen! If you wish to go Liège, the word disappears from all signs as you enter Flemish territory, and unless you know that the Dutch name for Liège is Luik, you'll think you've lost your way. Further examples abound. Antwerp is Anvers for the francophones. Bruxelles is Brussel for the Flemish, while Namur becomes Namen.

It would hardly be surprising, then, if a newcomer who was on the way from Brussels to the beautiful town of Mechelen were to think that they had arrived on seeing the arrows leading to a place called Machelen. Surely, this must be one of the two conflicting language versions of the town's name. How mistaken they would be! Mechelen in French is... Malines! And, in any case, they would rather die than write the word in French on their roadsigns.

In fact, apart from the close proximity and the fact that they are both Flemish towns, Machelen and Mechelen are two distinct and completely unrelated places. Mechelen I've visited several times, and I hope to go there many times again. I was curious about Machelen, but I shouldn't have been. It's situated close to the "Brussels" airport, which is actually in Zaventem, not Brussels. It's also close to a main motorway, the E19 that links Brussels to Antwerp. But, in spite of the background noise created by airplanes and the motorway traffic, it's still a quiet, peaceful, unpretentious village, with a beautiful church dedicated to Christ the King in the centre, and consisting mostly of tree-lined streets and houses surrounded by gardens, large areas of green, parks, fields, and extensive sports grounds.

The Machelen '10' km race, which forms part of the Watermolen Cup series, is the main event in an afternoon with several smaller events, including races for children, all starting and finishing in the athletics track of the Machelen sports centre.

For a few seconds at the beginning of the race, when we commenced a second lap of the track, I thought the entire race would consist of 25 laps on the track, which is of course impossible to manage with over 200 participants. In fact, midway through the second lap we left the track, and went off on an interesting, convoluted route going through grass, parkland, road pavements, around sports pavillions, public gardens and country roads that were completely devoid of traffic and surrounded by large cornfields. It was a beautiful route, and almost completely flat. I started at a moderate pace and after a kilometre or so started my usual overtaking routine, never exerting myself too much. When we re-entered the stadium I was hardly winded at all, but a look at the watch revealed that we had already done half the distance. So, it would be a double loop, quite popular around these parts, apparently.

The second loop went by smoothly enough. For me, the water station was useless as they gave us water in plastic cups. I can't drink out of a cup while running, so I just poured the water over my hair to cool down a little bit. Another look at the watch as we approached the stadium for the second and last time, and I thought that there was something wrong. The time was just 38 minutes - much less than my anticipated time for a 10k. But in fact we were almost there. A three-quarter loop on the outside of the stadium and I was on the final 100 metre stretch.

A final look at the watch at the finish showed 41:58! I haven't run a sub-42 minute 10k for ages. Surely, the distance run must have been less than 10 km. I asked someone as we left the stadium, and his GPS had measured the route at 9.63 km. That's much more realistic, for me, but it's still a very good time - just under 7 minutes per mile for 6 miles.

I thoroughly enjoyed this picturesque, quiet, and very flat route. They sent us away with a much appreciated farewell gift, too - a bottle of French red wine named Coteaux du Languedoc. Now, I wonder what they would call THAT in Flemish...

Thank you so much, Machelen, I enjoyed myself tremendously today. I hope to return next year.

Golden Oldies - 3 - The Balluta 5 Miles

The Balluta 5 Miles probably deserves pride of place as THE classic golden oldie, as far as Maltese road running is concerned.

I'm not well qualified to recount the history of this race, which I believe goes back to the 60s. But I can recount my own experience of it. For a brief spell in 1982, having taken an interest in road running, I joined the Malta University athletics club, and a guy named Paul, who was very active in athletics at that time, took me for some practice on the route of an upcoming event - the Balluta 5 Miles.

We met on a late, cool, September evening at Spinola Place, in front of the Tigullio night club, which was still in business at the time. A few minutes after we set off I realised that the route was much more than I had bargained for. The road went up to Paceville, further up to St Andrew's, and then further and further up through Tal-Ibraġ. The hill was steep, and it seemed as if it would never end. It did, in fact, finally end after we had gone past the Halland Hotel, with me panting desperately, and Paul asking me if I was OK... Well, sort of, I was still alive. The route proceeded towards the Tal-Balal crossroads, and from then on it was blissfully downhill through the main road of San Gwann, all the way to the steep "tal-Kirxa" descent to Balluta, plus a final short stretch towards Spinola place.

The Balluta 5 was the first stage of what used to be called the Winter League (nowadays the MAAA Road Running League), but it was generally far from being a wintry affair. Three in the afternoon, on the first Saturday of October is usually almost as hot as the peak of summer! But for the 1982 edition, my first-ever official road race, the 'winter' label was well deserved. It was a rainy afternoon, one of those autumn affairs where it rains buckets and Malta's roads are transformed into rivers. My race, a handful of days after the trial evening run, went reasonably well as there was no nasty surprise element of the Tal-Ibraġ hill. My most vivid recollections of that race, 27 years later, are running ankle-deep in water at the lower end of San Gwann, and crossing the finish, very pleased with myself, in penultimate place. It was my first and probably highest ever placing in a Winter League race, since on that day the entire field consisted of just about 25 competitors...

It was close to a decade later that I returned to running, which meant that I took part in this race for several more times in the 90s. But not for too long, as the event would soon be discontinued, perhaps due to traffic management problems, or maybe because of its non-standard distance, given that the other MAAA road running races were 10 km long. Pity. This was a classic race, and it deserved to keep its place in the Maltese road running calendar.

24 May 2009 - Tervuren Parkloop, 10.8km - 0h47:37

Tervuren is a suburb of Brussels that is one of the most popular places of residence for expatriates around the Belgian capital. It is dominated by a beautiful park, built by the flamboyant King Leopold II in the late 19th century, and housing a grand African museum.

One could hardly expect a race held in Tervuren not to feature the local park prominently. There were, in fact, no surprises, and the route quickly headed into the park where we negotiated numerous paths under the shade provided by the tall trees on this gorgeous May morning. The ground conditions were generally fine since it hadn't rained for quite a few days, so we could concentrate simply on racing each other and on the changing inclines, mostly not too challenging, and alternating over and over from slightly uphill to slightly downhill.

The race distance wasn't advertised very clearly at all. The Watermolen Cup website gave the distance as 14 km in one place, and 10.2 km in another. On the spot, before the start, it transpired that it was the latter case, so I reckoned if I did well I would finish in my 'standard' 44 minutes for 10k plus a further minute to cover the extra 200 metres - adding up to 45 minutes.

I ran at a moderately strong pace, overtaking a large number of rivals throughout the route while going uphill as well downhill. But still, at the end, I was just a little bit disappointed for two reasons. First of all, in the last few minutes I almost tired out, allowing two of my rivals to catch up and overtake me. Besides which, the finishing time was worse than expected - 0h47:37. Oh well, I thought, my 'standard' 10k must be getting slower with the advancing years, and my preferred race distance is pushing evermore toward the longer distances...

Until I discovered that the actual distance run was not 10.2 km at all, but 10.8, which is 600 metres longer than expected! Which accounts for my getting tired in the last few minutes, since I had been targeting an earlier completion, as well as for the extra two and a half minutes. Conclusion - my 'standard' 10k pace hasn't deteriorated, yet... 88th out of 312 finishers, 24th out of 68 in my age category, isn't such a bad placing after all.

Golden Oldies - 2 - The St Patrick's AC Summer League

For a few years, the St Patrick's Athletic Club Summer League 'took over' from the MMOC fun runs. They were more formal, with pre-registration and overall final classifications, and were longer at a standard 10km, but retained the summer evening feel of the defunct fun runs.

One characteristic of these races was that there never was established a fixed routine of locations where they were held. This resulted in a long series of one-offs that was very interesting in itself, which included:

Xgħajra - a picturesque and hilly route in an area that, for most of us, was not very familiar. I hold fond memories of this lovely race;

Pembroke - another hilly area, including some rough patches going through the Armed Forces practice shooting area (luckily not in use during the race), consisting of a double loop;

Naxxar - this one didn't work out well, since there was a loop within a loop resulting in a whole mix-up of bad turnings and incorrect timings;

Għajn Tuffieħa - practically a carbon copy of the MAAA Winter League event, this was unique in the fact that it was a terrifically hot day, with a temperature of 40 Celsius, and several cases of athletes being affected badly by the heat. I remember drinking lots of water during the day, in preparation for the heat-fest, and surviving the ordeal very well;

Sliema - this wasn't a summer evening affair, but a morning race held on Mnarja, 29 June, which marked the beginning of one particular Summer League. It was a very well-attended event, held on the occasion of one of the many parish feasts of this locality, in conjunction with a local band club. We ran down Dingli Street and along the Sliema promenade and back. It was as hot as you could expect of a summer league.

The organisation of three races within a few weeks turned out to be too burdensome for the St Patrick's club, and the Summer League crystallised into its one stable component, which was the Birżebbuġa 10K, still alive and kicking and one of the main road running events of the Maltese summer.

Golden Oldies - 1 - The MMOC Fun Runs

I love the Maltese running scene. It's one of the factors that I miss most of my native country. There's a well established calendar of races, and one gets used to a yearly cycle of training for the different events, each of which provides a pleasant, friendly atmosphere and is well attended.

Inevitably, along the years, some events eventually die out. Care for a nostalgia trip...?

The MMOC Fun Runs

I will start with the event where it all started, for me. The Malta marathon organising committee's fun runs throughout each summer. These used to be a series of short races held roughly every other Wednesday in different parts of the island, starting at 7pm. My first such fun run was in Marsascala, starting next to the San Tumas tower, all the way along the coast towards the old national swimming pool and back, for a total of 4.2km. In those days (the very early 90s) there would be over 200 participants in these runs, and the printed results would be handed out at the following race.

Other races in this series, most of them 4 to 5 km long, included:
Birżebbuġa - from Al Fresco to Freeport and back
Ta' Xbiex - Whitehall Mansions to Tignè and back
Siġġiewi - starting at the main square, a 5km loop through country roads around this village
Qawra - another fast loop starting and finishing next to Ta' Fra Ben
Rabat - 7.7km from Point de Vue place to Dingli and back, finishing next to the Roman Villa
Żurrieq - a 5 km loop starting from the Zurrieq Wolves clubhouse.

At the end of each race, they would raffle out a pair of shoes, by drawing the number given according to your placing. I was lucky at least twice on these occasions. On one remarkable instance, at a stage when the top athletes had begun to concentrate on more 'serious' events, I even came in first! This was at Siġġiewi - an incredible sensation, which is bound to remain a unique case.

It's a pity that these fun runs are no more. The informality, the summer evening atmosphere... they were unbeatable. They were also a means to encourage new participants to join the wonderful world of athletics, a sort of 'soft' introduction that was a 100% success in my case.

Unfortunately, their raison d'etre gradually came to an end. The fun runs had been introduced to fill a long gap of inactivity in athletics during the months of summer. But, with the growth of the Maltese athletics scene, other races began to 'creep' into this season too, with an inevitable dwindling and eventual dying out of attendances.