Waiting for a thousand k.

I've been training for four months. I've enjoyed the training. Yeah, it's nice, funny, clever training. It's awful. Four months of sweat, of pain. Four months of waiting for the moment. The moment is coming.

I've run for 966,50 km since I started training for the London Marathon.

966,50. The distance between my home in Milan and my home in London. Coincidence?

Sunday, the big day. I will reach 1,000 km. Hopefully I will also go past 1,000 km.

There's another important 1,000 to overtake. My target for the charity is 1,000£.

I'm so close, but still I'm not there. And the "bad" news is that our team has already reached its target of 10,000. And they're still raising money. Am I the only one not helping?

(By the way, if you want, you can sponsor here
http://www.justgiving.com/Rexel-UK-Green-Team)

The Marathon Expo opened today (Wednesday). I was supposed to join Stefano and the rest of the team on Thursday.

I couldn't wait. I'm already waiting for a 1,000 km. And for a 1,000 £. Give me some other thing to wait for and I might blow up (or blow off, I'm not that good with phrasal verbs).

When I got there (and it wasn't easy: two trains and a tram), my heart started pulsing so fast. It was the music. It was the atmosphere. I don't know. I just fell in love. And she's virgin.

I must warn you. You might see some commercial of the Virgin on next pictures.

I took my bib: 39076.

On my line, a guy asked whining: "Is it close enough to the starting line?" "I want to be fast, will I have people before me?" "Can I change it and get closer?". That guy was me.

A firm voice calmed me down: "Yes" "Just for the first mile" "No". For a few seconds.

"Because I want to finish it on ...". "In Berlin I had so many people before me that I couldn't run at my pace for 11 km".

He smiled. I understood.

"Good luck". He said.

"A sorreta" (which means thanks in Italian).

But who cares of time. I can also enjoy hanging around for 26.2 miles. I'm in London. There will be 26 miles of people cheering for us. And never forget the 0.2. Never forget them.

Right while I was fooling myself with such stupid thoughts, I bumped into this:

Why am I running the marathon? What's the reason?

I wanted to be deep. Inhaled deeply. Enough depth for today.

 

"Come se fosse antani!
milanolondra.blogspot.com
milano-londra (running for EEIBA)"

Come se fosse antani!

It's Italian. It means "As if it were pufflethy". Something like "a sorreta". But more polite.

The trip to the expo ended with some shopping. Very important shopping. I bought (and tried) all the gels and sport drinks they'll give us during the race. I needed to know their taste, I've never used them.

They're like pure sugar with artficial flavor. So disgusting that I was tempted to withdraw from the race.
I'll love them on Sunday.

I'm at home now. Waiting for 1,000 km. Three days from now I will suit up. And just run it.

But there's a question that keeps popping out. Am I ready?