foto1
Најтежи сукоби
foto1
Смијешне слике
foto1
Најгрубљи тренинзи
foto1
Најзначајнији завршници
foto1
Најузбудљивијих путовања
То је мој маратон
Једноставност плаћања и регистрације 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 Rating 1.50 (1 Vote)
Чистоћа комуникације 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 Rating 1.00 (1 Vote)
Правичност додјеле бројева 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 Rating 2.00 (1 Vote)
Структурирано почети на време 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 Rating 2.00 (1 Vote)
Брзина стазе 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 Rating 2.00 (1 Vote)
Богатство пића и хране 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 Rating 2.00 (1 Vote)
Безбедност, медицинска подршка и масажа 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 Rating 4.00 (1 Vote)
Лепота волонтера 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 Rating 3.50 (1 Vote)
Забава на забавама 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 Rating 2.50 (1 Vote)
Приступачност догађаја 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 Rating 1.50 (1 Vote)

30. интернално охридски маратон

As they didn't want to get me a ticket for the later direct bus, I had to change in Skopje but the twelve hour ride seemed to be very short. As I got no confirmation from the hostel so I haven't noted the street or the name, but I have planned the training run for the day from that spot and had an idea about where it is situated. The training track was not as expected more beautiful at the sea side than on the hills because the coastal way was blocked by the hotel complexes and I had to run through boskage instead of a nice stony coast, but up in the hills I ran across cows that seemed to be friendly and the track had some holes but was stony and rather smooth. So I looked forward to the next day to go to the registration site.
My little knowledge in Serbian language didn't help me much to understand the guys at the desk when I tried to explain that I spent the night in a hostel but would like to profit from their offer for a free bed. It must have been a little bit strange because I showed up with no baggage. Nevertheless the principal organizer spoke a British English with an Macedonian accent and he was lovely to drive me to the complex, that resembled a soviet youth-camp and showed me around the barracks. Thee rooms were old but new linen was put and even though the cupboards were smashed, it looked cleaned up. The shower was installed with-in the toilets and I better should hurry up to get a long shower after the run on the next day. I decided to take a road around the city that didn't brought me back to the main street as expected and I walked back through the slums to the hostel. The land lady was more interested in reporting me the problems her daughter faced and the delay she had coming home for the national holiday from Vienna than to cash in for the night. So I had another coffee there, packed my thing and went to the barracks to meet the runners and took the room. There I put on the Macedonian shirt and went outside to find a number girl for the picture. I arrived a bit early at the registration site and watched the last minutes of the handball match and then listened to the Macedonian description of the course, that we have to pass a medical exam and so on, good that the organizer gave me confirmation by adding an English translation, that was also meant for the Albanian fraction in front of me how were allowed to have a little speech to remember the earthquake victims in Italy and asked a lot of questions that were not really in interest to me. So we were happy to finally go to the restaurant for dinner and to pick up the breakfast bag. As for my diet, I tried to explain that I don't eat chicken, but instead of sitting down, the mates from Skopje ordered take-away food. I was not really happy about that, but socializing would anyway be hard, because I haven't recognized the other runners in the restaurant and like that I could have a fast meal and get early to bed. After my dinner, a guy arrived asking for the free rooms, and I said that they are probably all taken but that I have another bed in my room. We got up around the same time to prepare and we went just outside to wait for the departure of the buses to Свети Наум. It started to pour the hell out of the sky during our trip and we stopped at the boarder to visit the toilets, but we already had a long trip so we were close to the start and indeed the bus only drove us 20 meters up to an abandoned custom police building where we got our medical check and warmed up dancing inside the building or running outside in the rain. After the picture ceremony the African runners join us at the front of the building and then they fired the guns from the side where the Albanian boarder was and we ran just alongside the boarder control house down to the sea-side through a touristic village. I took it more or less easy compared to my starting speed where I lead the last races but I was still a good step in front of the girls, namely the African girl, that will be hard to beat. Pictures were taken almost at every corner, and I tried to put up my best smile even-though the race was hard and the rain didn't helped much to enlighten my mood. But at least it helped to cool down the muscles and I could even put some sprints in between my easy pace, to gain some meters over the runners-up group. The hills started to ask much effort to mount and I didn't wanted to force too much so I gave in for some of the runners that started to overtake me one by one, but not much they were, at least. And I found a mate that was beatable on the uphill but stronger downwards. So I didn't run with him, but we were always only meters separated. A mile or two later, the African girl joined us and was running more my tactics and we outdistanced the guy upwards and I tried to drag her also downwards even though this was too hard for me to keep for the rest of the half-marathon distance. When we passed a longer upward piece she finally took me for good and I knew, I will see her at finish earliest. On the downward part then my knees started to kill me slowly. I was alone on my way now and shouted the hell out of me from time to time, scaring of the spectators that supported me along the street. On the now flattening road I lost speed and many positions, even though the opponents were separated by minutes. The number 15 on the street announce a long suffering period and I tried to at least run at a descent training speed of about 5 to 5.2 min/km but could only hold that to kilometer 25 when the pain was no longer coming from time to time in short stitches but had formed into a constant and overwhelming pain, so when we reached the water-station at the the hill-sided training track joined the main street I had to start walking a little bit. A guy on a bicycle asked me if I need help but I only asked for the time, and he said 2:20 so leaving me 70 minutes for 3 kilometers. Actually, it was more kind of hobbling the street but from time to time I could restart to jog for a short period of time. When I reached the city center from where the bus started I dragged my feet only millimeters above the ground after me. And my room-mate who was angry that I didn't understood his Macedonian demand for the key at once, who was coming back from his massage, now realized that I wasn't really able to focus on what happened. For the last meters, I saw that I at least can beat the quarter-hour clock and gave a last sprint that must have looked like a paralympic qualifier in Gibraltar or so, but I got passed the finish line and got my medal girl kissed – oh my lovely Balkans! I was just happy to have finished my balkan-marathons-marathon with my fifth medal in the fourth race on after three week-ends. The Albanians knocked me ten times out of the shower, but if they don't beat me in this condition, they hadn't deserved to go to the shower immediately.