Run, Forrest, run

Today, after Montoya's unidisputed victory in the F1, I had a race of my own to run.
In Bogota's very own Maratón. The starting point was on Plaza de Bolívar, and the day was rather rainy, not a downpour, but a small shower, but it kept on during the whole race.

I ran the 21Km marathon which is the big one, by Bogotan standards (A marathon is 42Km long, but none are held in Colombia). It was very well organized, with poles marking every kilometer and water or gatorade every two or three kilometers.

Right at the start the race was a huge croud of people and there was no possibility of advancing at any speed that was duifferent from that of the whole group. It wasn't until Parque Nacional, a kilometer and a half ahead, that the mass of people got sparser and some breathing room was possible. I had run the same race last year, and I felt better this time. The rain was not an annoyance, but an aid for not dehydratating, except for the occasional poodle of muddy water that got splashed and went into one's own tennis shoes.

Jogging is a masochistic sport. Right in the end I only wished for the race to end, from kilometer 17 up to the end, my legs were killing me. I could breath fine and I had enough energy to go at a faster pace, but my legs were unable to keep the rythm. I finished in 1:54:07, which is not really good but it beat my previous mark of 1:59:53. Yee Hay

The best part of the whole event was to see all of the people, both participants and public. Despite the continuous rain, troughout the whole race, a lot of people was shouting and cheering, and a lot of car drivers were angry at the race, which closed the roads for them and made the wait for several hours for the whole croud to pass, and I cannot describe the feeling when a little difference of height in the terrain (such as going down 72nd avenue) permitted the view of a huge river of people as far as the eye could see on both directions. That is really overwhelming.