Non scriviamo minchiate

Un avvertimento importante. Questa minchiata l’ho scritta io da solo ed esprime solo il mio punto di vista. È così per tutte le minchiate che scrivo su Piovono Runners. Questa volta, però, ci tenevo a precisarlo.



Ecco, per l'appunto.

Vi parlo di corsa. Sì perché questa domenica corro. Domenica 24 febbraio 2013, c’è una corsa importante a Singapore. Sono 15 km + 30 piani di un grattacielo. Non mi sono allenato tantissimo ultimamente. Il mio obbiettivo sarà arrivare senza un infarto quantomeno al 20esimo piano. Per dire, se l’infarto ce l’ho al 21esimo piano sono comunque contento. Come sempre porterò con me la bandiera dei Podisti da Marte, da sventolare in cima al grattacielo.

Sarà un momento particolare. Un anno fa, in questo periodo, sventolavo la bandiera marziana a Vigevano, per celebrare l’arrivo di Andrea “Biscottino” al traguardo della sua prima e faticosa mezza maratona. Quest’anno Biscottino non c’è più e molti marziani correranno domenica a Vigevano per ricordarlo. Ecco, quindi speriamo proprio di arrivarci al 30esimo piano a sventolare la bandiera.

Ma non è di me che voglio parlare. O dei Podisti da Marte. Domenica correranno altre persone. Meglio, altre squadre, in una gara particolare.

C’è una squadra guidata da un tipo di una certa età. Gente tendenzialmente mediocre, che corre solo perché lui glielo consente. Lui è un tipo strano. Dicono c’abbia parecchi vizietti, il che non è il massimo per il leader di una squadra. Ma soprattutto è uno che vede la corsa solo in quanto finalizzata a vincere la gara. Una competizione fine a se stessa. Onanistica. Per mesi sonnecchia,vivacchia, si dedica ai suoi vizietti. Nel periodo subito prima della corsa si dopa, pesantemente, chiama alle armi tutti i suoi scagnozzi, e inizia ad abusare psicologicamente di chi sosterrebbe anche i suoi avversari. Non c’è niente di male per se, solo che finita la gara scompare. Si dedica ai suoi vizietti e manda in malora il mondo della corsa. E il mondo ha bisogno della corsa. Quelli che corrono con lui sono contenti di stargli dietro. Grazie alla sua guida spericolata arrivano per primi e possono mangiare tutto il cibo del rinfresco.

C’è un’altra squadra, guidata da un anziano signore. Non anziano come il primo. Lui si è spesso dedicato alla corsa, ma come attività secondaria, finalizzata ad altri sport. Faceva il Professore di educazione fisica. Di recente fu chiamato a occuparsi di corsa perché la squadra di prima, che aveva vinto la gara, aveva poi mandato tutto in vacca rischiando di far fallire gli organizzatori della gara. Nella sua squadra c’è gente molto brava, ma un po’ altezzosa. C’è anche gente parecchio discutibile, che prima correva col vecchio malvissuto di cui sopra. Questa squadra probabilmente non vincerà. Ha avuto poco tempo per allenarsi, ed è stata pesantemente attaccata dalla squadra del vecchio malvissuto.

C’è una squadra che non è proprio una squadra. Il tipo che la guida non corre, guarda soltanto. Ha detto a tutti come dovevano allenarsi, ha stabilito le modalità, i tempi. È una squadra che fa tanto rumore, perché il tipo che la guida fa tanto rumore. La gente che la compone è molto variegata. C’è chi corre da tempo e chi ha mosso i primi passi qualche mese fa. Tutti con una gran voglia di vincere la gara per il bene della corsa. Il problema è che non si sa che farà questa squadra una volta finita la gara. Alcuni andranno a destra, altri a sinistra. Qualcuno resterà fedele al capo qualcun altro no. Qualcun altro dopo un po’ si stancherà di correre e si dedicherà ad altro, con i soldi degli organizzatori della gara.

Di due squadre non so se sia il caso di parlare. Accenno brevemente ai capifila delle due squadre. Uno corre da tanto tempo, con vestiti sgargianti, ma non ha mai partecipato a una gara. È un eccentrico corridore che si diverte a menare il can per l’aia. Di recente ha perso credibilità perché han scoperto che millantava di certificati di merito conseguiti in Italia e all’estero. E di capacità canore riconosciutegli sin da piccolo. L’altro capofila avrebbe sempre voluto correre, ma è finito a fare lo schermidore. È stato allievo di un grande schermidore prematuramente scomparso. Sulle sue capacità di schermidore molti nutrono qualche dubbio. Dicono fosse piuttosto scorretto, non seguisse le regole del gioco pur di colpire gli avversari. Ed era un appassionato di storia della scherma, alla quale dedicava tante risorse della federazione della scherma. Adesso guida una squadra composta da gente che sarebbe meglio si guardasse la corsa da casa.

Infine, ma non per importanza, c’è una squadra alla quale sono molto affezionato. E’ una squadra nata qualche anno fa da due squadre con una grande storia, ma con poco successo. Al suo interno correvano tante persone che forse avrebbero potuto lasciare spazio a qualcuno con energie più fresche. E alla fine l’hanno fatto, hanno mollato l'osso. Non tanto per merito loro, quanto per merito di chi queste energie più fresche ce le aveva. È una squadra guidata da un tipo istintivamente simpatico, apparentemente bonario. Ma uno che da giovanissimo faceva certe corse che neanche ce le immaginiamo. Tipo guidare la "regione con i migliori asili nido d'Europa". Da qualche tempo ha deciso di guidare questa squadra. Per un po’ si era fidato di un professore (di liceo) che correva da tempo e aveva vinto una gara provinciale. Sembrava una brava persona, ma lo accusarono di doparsi e fu umanamente lasciato a casa. Come lui altri sono stati lasciati a casa, perché’ la squadra non fosse coinvolta dai loro scandali (altre squadre se ne sono infischiate altamente, per dire). Il leader di questa squadra non è un leader come ce lo immaginiamo. Non urla, non si agita. Parla pane al pane e vino al vino. Cerca di convincere con la ragionevolezza, a volte con il tempo. A volte con troppo tempo. Gli altri che corrono in questa squadra sono, per lo più, gente per bene. Gente che crede nella corsa. A volte anche troppo. Non è detto che conti per vincere le gare, ma può contare per fare apprezzare la corsa. Molti sostenitori di questa squadra volevano correre la gara, ma non c’era spazio per tutti. I sostenitori, tutti, hanno dedicato molto tempo a scegliere chi mandare a correre la gara. Anche il leader è stato scelto da tutti, al contrario che nelle altre squadre. È una cosa che, credo andrebbe apprezzata. Forse la squadra è un po’ ingenua, al suo interno ci sono delle teste matte, andrebbe aiutata dal Professore. Ma forse ce la fa da sola. Ha tanta voglia di vincere, e dice, speriamo sia vero, che lo fa per migliorare il mondo della corsa dopo anni di barbarie. Sicuramente ha migliorato se stessa negli ultimi anni, gliene si deve dare atto.

Ecco, se potessi assistere a questa gara, tiferei questa squadra. A gran voce. Se lo merita. Me la sento vicina.

Ma sono a Singapore, a correre 15km + 30 piani di un grattacielo. Quindi chiedo a te che leggi, se avevi intenzione di non andare a vedere la gara, o di andare per tifare per un’altra squadra, se, per favore, puoi andare e tifare per questa squadra a nome mio. Li riconoscerai perché indossano i colori della bandiera italiana.

Grazie.

Valerio

P.s. Che poi 30 piani, dopo 15k, ma sono scemi?!? Io mi ero iscritto che dicevano 15k+climb. Senza precisare. Poi vado a ritirare il pettorale: "Scusi, how much climb?" "thirty stories" "thirty steps?" "thirty stories" "30 steps?" "30 piani" "XXX pioli?" "XXX piani" "no, mi scusi, forse non ho capito bene. Trenta scale tipo 1 rampa con XXX scalini?" "no, tipo trenta piani con 30 rampe con XXX scalini"

"Mmm secondo me intendeva 30 scalini"

Fourteenth and Fifteenth Days, Dulcis in Fundo

The sweet is at the end. Or also, take the dessert at the end. Dulcis in fundo. This ancient saying applies also to sticky rice cooked in the bamboo on the fire at night in an elephant camp in the middle of the jungle. The sweeter part is at the end.

Let's go in order.

The last two days of of the #piovonontheroad trip were mainly spent in the jungle.
We were a group of eleven people plus two guides: six girls from Ireland, a couple from Germany, a Belgium, a French, and an awesome Sicilian.

We were picked up at the hostel and carried far far away. First stop at a waterfall, where we had a short glacial bath. Then to some pools of thermal water, where we had a long warm bath.

From the thermal poos we left for a 9k trek in the middle of the jungle. Up and Down three gorgeous steep hills. The first slope left me with a tremendous will to run. The second slope I didn't resist and started. Adrien (Belgium), Guillaume (France) and Nu (one of the guides) followed straight away. Somewhere on Facebook there must be videos of these fast downhill runs. Guillaume is on a 8 months journey around the world, has uploaded over 5000 pictures and videos so far.

On the way we stopped at two villages. We were supposed cross villages of the Karen Tribe. If you check on Google, Karen Tribe is the hills tribe where women have long necks after the rings which were applied since the were kids.

No trace of long necks. Better for them, I must say. The reason was, as always, religion. Karen tribes used to be all animist. As it was explained to me by Loso (the other guide), who is from the Karen tribe, when people got sick they sacrified a chicken to nature. Then a missionary came from France, 50 years ago, and he brought medicines. Now the six villages of the Karen Tribe of that area are catholic. No more long necks.
Villages were quite amazing anyway, for us people from the cities. No electricity, terrace rice fields, and animals hanging around undisturbed. What do you think when you see a big black pig lying peacefully on the ground? I got hungry.

We reached the base camp. Five buildings where two men, one woman and a baby waited for trekkers. Our dorm, like all the buildings we had seen on the way, was in a palafitte.

It was already a little bit cold. The bravest (or the dirtiest) took a cold shower with the water pumped from the river nearby. A piece of fabric avoided debris to fall with the water.

Our dinner was luxurious. Three main meals with steam rice. For the joy of the Irish girls, there were also some potatoes, floating in the chicken curry.

We warmed up at the fire with Adrien playing any kind of unknown song (including Tryo "Hymne de mon Compaignes" and the main theme of 1970s Italian tv show Pinocchio). A good help for warming up came from the "happy water", a home made methanol rich rice liqueur. And of course the sticky rice: rice coconut milk and sugar stuffed in a bamboo, closed on top with a banana leaf, and cooked on the fire.

We went to bed at 22. At midnight I woke up. The cold night was barely stopped by the thin cover we had been provided with. The humidity had wetted the mattress. I woke up again at 1. At 2. At. 3. At 4. At 5... At 6.30 I thought it was enough. There was enough light to understand where my frozen feet where. Went out of the dorm and walked around the camp. Everything was under a thick fog. Surely thicker than our cover. The river streamed placid. Everyone and everything was asleep. I missed my running shoes.

At 7 the first human beings showed up. At 8.30 we were all awake, having a massive breakfast around the fire with eggs, toasts, tea and coffee. And sticky rice, of course.

Then came the elephants. Two, big, calm. Guided by two skinny and skilled locals.

We collected our stuff and divided in two groups: the girls left with the elephants. The other five and the guides left with a long bamboo raft, and the will to ride the elephants.

After 45 minutes we changed means of transportation. Me and Adrien went on an elephant, Guillaume, Nikol and Antja went on the other.

I was against riding elephants. But they're treated with a lot of care in Thailand. There are governmental programs to protect them, and when they get too old to carry people they are brought to specific camps.
Riding an elephant in an organized trip is like when you were a kid and they made you ride a pony. With the difference that an elephant can squeeze you.

There are two places when you can stay, on an elephant. On the comfortable chair safely tied to its back, or directly on the elephant's neck, keeping your knees behind its ears.
I stood on the neck. And found out muscles of my legs I didn't know to exist (I would have been happy also if I remained ignorant).

The elephants carried us along the river. Often crossing the river and sometimes climbing up and down of scary hills.

After 45 minutes of childhood I had to leave the elephant's neck. It was extremely painful. Emotionally: to come back to a life without an elephant. Phisically: to have my inner legs devastated John Wayne style.
We took another raft and all together navigated the river for another 2 hours. It was very funny, with some rafting and some race. Everything in the quiet and placid streaming of the river in the forest. Some poop of elephant floating from time to time (they are huge).

After two hours we reached the final camp, had lunch and headed back to the hostel.

I was full of energy for the days spent in such a great atmosphere. There was only one thing I could do: run.
Old Chiang Mai is surrounded by a squared canal and some remainings of the walls which protected the city. The whole perimeter is 6,4k, I found out. Started and never stopped. The elephants, the rafting, the new friends. The humid and cold night. Altogether there with me and my legs. I climbed the walls, where it was possible. And came back at the hostel tired and fully satisfied.

The evening went on with a solitary dinner in a restaurant which served typical northern Thai food. It was advised by the guide. The first meal was a raw sausage with fresh salad. Very good. And I'm still alive, chances are I won't die even this time.

After the dinner, a goodbye drink with the adventurous mates of the jungle trip.

Piovonontheroad is at the end.

Pictures of these two days will be posted later, on a Picasa album attached to this post. [Done on 17 January 2013]

The very last day, the sixteenth one, was spent in four airports. Chiang Mai International, Kuala Lumpur Budget Terminal, Kuala Lumpur International Airport, and Changi Airport Singapore.

Not much to say about it, apart that it left me with a great desire of home. And of running. Well, for the second thing it's easy. Just need to upload this post, share it, and I'm ready to hit the road of Botanic Garden, Singapore.

See you soon on Piovono Runners.

Natale a Singapore

No, non è un film dei Vanzina. Sono a Singapore. Di nuovo. Nel senso che sono stato a Milano per un mese (di grandi passioni).

(questa foto non c'entra nulla col post. Volevo ringraziare i 281 amicici che con il loro "mi piace" hanno reso la foto la più votata del calendario della Milano City Marathon. Dati ancora non ufficiali, cliccare QUI per vedere i voti)

Sono tornato a Singapore per Natale per una serie di ragioni.

La prima è che sono riuscito a incontrare (anche se per poco) persone fantastiche del master, che non rivedrò per molto tempo. Tornando a gennaio le avrei perse.

La seconda è che Singapore è nel sud-est asiatico. Stupiti, vi vedo stupiti. Singapore non è in Cina. Si trova esattamente sull'Equatore. A 3 ore di distanza da Bali, a 3 ore da Bangkok. Iniziate a immaginare di che cosa sto parlando.

Dopodomani parto per Bali. Con un amico trentino che non vedevo da tanto. Lui gira il mondo come professore universitario (c'ha un anno in meno di me, st'infamone!!). Ieri era qui e abbiamo corso a McRitchie.

Non è un amico qualsiasi. Ci incontrammo il primo anno di università, a Trento. Per tre anni sempre insieme. Poi si trasferì, nell'ordine, a Bologna, Fiesole, Delft. Ma appena si può, ci ritroviamo come se non fosse passato un giorno.

Non è un amico qualsiasi per un altro motivo. Corse la maratona di New York nel novembre 2008. A quel tempo non potevo camminare, convalescente dall'operazione ai legamenti crociati. La sua passione per quella gara mi spinse a cominciare a correre, e a correre maratone. Se scrivo adesso su Piovono Runners è quindi colpa sua.

Nella migliore delle tradizioni, il nostro incontro è stato seguito da una corsa. McRitchie Reservoir, 11,5km intorno al lago.

(nella foto: MacRitchie Reservoir. E' più bello di come sembra)

La vigilia l'abbiamo passata separati. Lui con la sua famiglia, appena arrivata da Trento. Io con una ventina di colombiani e qualche collega rimasto qui. Ballato, cantato, bevuto, mangiato.

Dopodomani, 27 dicembre, siamo a Bali (Indonesia). Mentre saremo lì passeremo un giorno a Lombok, per salire al vulcano.

(nella foto: Bali e Lombok)

L'1 gennaio parto in solitaria alle 6 di mattina per Kuala Lumpur (Malesia), da dove mi sposterò subito a Penang (Malesia) via bus. Dopo qualche giorno andrò a Bangkok (Thailandia). 1146km da percorrere in autobus e/o treno.

(nella foto: Penang e Bangkok)

Poi salirò più a nord, a Chiang Mai. Altri 746km, bus o treno. Da lì mi sposterò con ogni mezzo a disposizione nella zona, fino al 12 gennaio.

(nella foto: Bangkok e Chiang Mai)

Unici biglietti certi: Singapore-Bali, Bali-Kuala Lumpur, Chiang Mai-Singapore.

Perché questo post?

Beh, in primis per suscitare un po' di invidia a tutti quelli che stanno schiattando dal freddo mentre leggono (UAH UAH UAH).

In secundiis perché così sapete dove cercare il mio corpo quando non mi troveranno: nel deposito del ghiaccio o in un ascensore bloccato di un albergo da due soldi di Bangkok (cit. colta).

In tertiis, e soprattuttiis, perché cercherò di correre lungo il viaggio, e di aggiornare Piovono Runners in diretta. Cioè non proprio in diretta, ma quando avrò a disposizione una connessione internet e un po' di tempo lo farò. Parola di lupetto.

Buon Natale da Piovono Runners!!

Run tints my world

Dear Ms Nike,
Our shining smiles did overcome your anonymous t-shirt.

Cara Signora Nike,
I nostri raggianti sorrisi hanno annichilito la Sua anonima maglietta.

(in the picture: the fab five)

But I keep thinking that coloured is better.
Ma sono ancora convinto che a colori è meglio.

(in the picture: the fab five after the race)

As per the race. It didn't go as expected. Better.

From the left:

Riccardo closed it in 54 minutes and 48 seconds. We betted he could run under 1 hour. He owes me an ice cream now.

Soonpeel closed it in 54 minutes and 32 seconds. He had never run 10k. He actually never run before coming to Singapore. And he did it, in less than 55 minutes!!! This is a serious man.

Christina closed it in 1 hour, 6 minutes and 9 seconds. Stronger than any ache to her knees. Her first race. Never run over 5k. Promoter and supporter of the group, best smile of the race. She owes me an ice cream too.

I closed it in 41 minutes and 21 seconds. Way over the planned 39 minutes and something. On my defence: a) we arrived late and I started at the end, lot of people to pass; b) at 6th k I had to stop 1 minute for... physiological needs; c) I ran all the time with t-shirt and singlet, d) I ran outta gas; e) I had a flat tire; f) I didn't have enough money for cab fare; g) My tux didn't come back from the cleaners; h) An old friend came in from outta town; i) Someone stole my car; j) There was an earthquake, a terrible flood, locust's. It wasn't my fault!! I swear to God!!

Julia closed it in 1 hour 3 minutes and 9 seconds. Way faster she claimed to be. She was the first one I met after the race. She probably had never seen me that happy.

***

Almost forgot. How did it go with Nike? We all had to wear the Nike t-shirt, right? Well, art. 12 ordered to wear their tee. Not to show it... Lawyered!
Quasi dimenticavo. Com'è andata a finire con la Nike? Tutti dovevamo indossare la maglietta Nike, giusto? Beh, l'art. 12 ordinava di indossare quella maglia. Non di mostrarla... Lawyered!

(in the picture: lawyered!!)

Fight for your right...

...to party

(in the picture: coloured is better)

[The post on Nike Werun will be out in 6 hours. See you later]
[Il racconto della Nike Werun arriva tra 6 ore. A tra 'n pochetto]

Cara Signora Nike

Non sono uno dei Suoi fan più fedeli. Solo un semplice utente dei Suoi prodotti per la corsa. Apprezzo alcuni tessuti che Lei usa per le magliette e le canotte. Ho alcune calze, e un paio di pantaloncini da corsa. Guanti, che chiaramente non posso usare a Singapore. Nessuna lamentela riguardo ai Suoi prodotti. Quelli che ho sono eccellenti.

Ma in questo momento sono molto molto contrariato nei Suoi confronti.

Mi sono registrato per la Nike We Run SG. Come Lei sa, è una corsa di 10km. Ci sono gare dello stesso genere in altri paesi. In Italia Lei usa la Deejay Ten per questi fini. In Malaysia si chiama Nike We Run KL.

Sono contento che Lei promuova questi eventi. Introducono le persone alla corsa, e ciò è un bene.

Signora Nike, voglio che Lei sappia che sono molto felice per questa corsa. Probabilmente arriverò in uno stato di forma decente, e finalmente romperò il muro dei 10km in 40 minuti. Ma ciò che mi rende davvero felice è che quattro amici che vivono a Singapore correranno con me. E non hanno mai corso in una gara.

Signora Nike, sono profondamente contrariato. La scorsa domenica ho prelevato il pacco gara al punto di ritiro. Dentro al pacco c'era una maglietta della gara. Era tutta nera, con sottili strisce giallo fluorescente alle estremità. E ho letto per la prima volta che tutti i partecipanti DEVONO indossare la maglietta. Era scritto anche nel regolamento della gara. Regola 12 del Regolamento, non l'avevo notata prima.

Signora Nike, questa sarà la mia quinta gara a Singapore, da maggio 2012, quando mi sono trasferito qui. Fin qui, ho indossato con orgoglio la canotta della Fondazione De Marchi. La Fondazione De Marchi è una onlus italiana, legata alla omonima clinica pediatrica. Aiutano famiglie con bambini che hanno dovuto subire pesanti trattamenti sanitari  (ad esempio per la leucemia). Rendono la vita dei bambini in ospedale molto molto molto più piacevole. Dovrebbe vedere come hanno trasformato la clinica, Signora Nike. Correre e raccogliere fondi per la Fondazione De Marchi è un piacere e un onore.

Non correrò la Nike We Run SG indossando la canotta della Fondazione De Marchi. Ciò a causa della Regola 12, Signora Nike.

Ma il vero problema è un altro. Perché non è consentito ai podisti di indossare i loro colori preferiti?

Molti di loro avrebbero indossato la maglietta nera in ogni caso. Molti avrebbero indossato i Suoi prodotti rossi, gialli, arancioni, blu, rosa, Signora Nike. Ma 20mila  persone indosseranno lo stesso colore, nero.

Podisti anonimi. Nessun colore, nessuna differenza, nessuna felicità. Solo magliette nere. E' questo ciò che vuole, Signora Nike?

Signora Nike, i miei amici ed io, noi, saremo felici in ogni caso. Saremo diversi. I nostri raggianti sorrisi annichiliranno la Sua anonima maglietta. E mi dispiace che i suoi piccoli aiutanti di Singapore non capiscano questo: le differenze arricchiscono.

Dear Ms Nike

I am not your biggest fan, but a decent consumer of your products for running. I like some of the fabrics you use for making t-shirts and singlets. I have some of your socks, and a pair of running shorts. Gloves, that I clearly cannot use in Singapore. Nothing to complain with your products, the ones I have are excellent.

But right now I am very very disappointed of you.

I registered for the Nike We Run SG. As you know, it is a 10k run. There are equivalent races in many other countries. In Italy you use Deejay Ten. In Malaysia it is Nike We Run KL.

I am glad that you organize such events. They bring people to running, and that is good.

Ms Nike, I want you to know that I am very happy about this race. I will probably arrive in a decent shape, and finally break the wall of 10k in 40 minutes. But the thing that makes me really happy is that four other friends who live in Singapore are running with me. They have never run a race.

Ms Nike, I am so deeply disappointed. Last Saturday I picked my pack at the collection point. Inside the pack there was the race t-shirt. It was all black, with tiny fluo yellow strips in the borders. And I read for the first time that all the participants MUST wear that t-shirt. It was also on the rules of the race. Rule 12 of the Rules and Regulation, I hadn't noticed it before.

Ms Nike, this is going to be my fifth race in Singapore, since May 2012, when I moved here. So far, I have proudly worn the singlet of Fondazione De Marchi. Fondazione De Marchi is an Italian charity, linked to the pediatric clinic of the same name. They help families with kids who have to go through heavy medical treatments (e.g. for leukemia). They make the life of kids in hospital much much much more pleasant. You should see how they transformed the clinic, Ms Nike. To run and fundraise for Fondazione De Marchi is a pleasure and a honour.

I will not run Nike We Run SG wearing the singlet of Fondazione De Marchi. Because of your Rule 12, Ms Nike.

But the real problem is another one. Why runners are not allowed to wear their favourite colors? Many of them would have worn your black t-shirt anyway. Many would have worn your red, yellow, orange, blue, pink products, Ms Nike. But 20 thousand people will wear the same color, black.

Anonymous runners. No colors, no diversity, no happiness. Only black t-shirts. Is that what you want, Ms Nike?

Ms Nike, my friends and I, we will be happy anyway. We will be different. Our shining smiles will overcome your anonymous t-shirt. And I am sorry that your little helpers in Singapore do not understand this. Diversity makes us richer.

Sweatman Run

I woke up at 5.30 this morning. Sunday morning. Yes, I know, too late. But the race started at 7.30 this morning. Always Sunday morning.

(to embed Sunday Morning here was too easy)

Races in Singapore usually start at 7. Sometimes even at 5.15. The reason is clear for anyone who's ever just passed by Singapore. Heat. Always. And when it's heat plus sun, you'd better stay in a mall or in a house with on going air conditioned.

This race started at 7.30. They decided to do so. This race is the Mizuno Passion Wave Run. 16k, all around Mount Faber, highest Singapore hill.

This race was all the time under the sun. Plus heat.

We gathered 15 minutes before the start. By "we" I mean the guys who decided to wake up at 5.30 and gather at 7.15, 15 minutes before the start of the race. Bad choice. In 15 minutes I lost all the liquids I had been saving since the night before. All. Soy-milk, litres of water, isotonic drink. All moved from the inside to the outside.

The speaker shouts "start" and we start. As usual I start fast. But less fast than usual. Legs and arms are still stiff for the Friday work out. Never work out on the fridays before the race, unless you want to become a Strong Man. (Here's how: "To Be a Strong Man").

After 5k my pace slows down. Down down down. I start thinking to keep AT LEAST a pace of 4m10s per k. Then 4m15s per k. Then 4m20s per k. Then 4m25s per k. Then 4m30s per k. Then I close a k in 4m40s. And I decide not to bother anymore about the pace.

Around 10k I stop. Suddenly. A policeman makes me stop. "You need to wait for the traffic light". What?!?!? "It's Unbelievable! Never Happened in a Race!! Outrageous!!!". I think. To waste liquids by speaking isn't a good idea. Not to mention the time I would waste by going to jail. 50 seconds later we can start again.

Around 13k another traffic light. I start shouting 100m before. The policeman hears and stops the cars. "Thanks". I've been in a terrific shape. The guy I've tried to chase for 13k is so close. I cannot risk to loose him by waiting for the traffic light!

I pay that shout. The throat is dry. The same cannot be said about the clothes. And the shoes. A sweatman running.

1,5k left. I don't know where, but I find enough energy to push. I pass the guy 500m before the end. Retro-running. Arrival. Food. Water. Isotonic drink.

16k in 1 hour 8 minutes 48 seconds. 4m21s per k, considering also the time I stood still.

No traffic light can stop us!! (more than required)

(the smile of a rehydrated man)

To Be a Strong Man

How do you become a strong man? That's a question I was asked many times.

The first thing is eating. A strong man needs a lot of energy. Eat at least four raw eggs in the morning, 1kg meatball spaghetti  for lunch, and a steak for dinner (better is beefsteak Florentine style). Every day. If you don't like eggs you can have a steak also for breakfast.

If you want to be a strong man you need to train hard. There's no easier way to get there. Two to four hours of daily work out are required. A strong man needs to suffer and suffer and suffer and suffer. You don't like the atmosphere of gyms? Cut logs, push carts, lift people, try to chase a chicken. Better if you do it in Philadelphia. Or in Russia.

If you want to be a strong man you need to look like a strong man. Shave your legs, arms and chest. Use a mirror and train until you reach the perfect fierce dumb look. Never forget to oil up your body.

(a little more oil would help)

You don't want to become a strong man? you may always consider to become a Strongman Runner.

You run as usual, you do some work out from time to time. You go to the Fisherman's Friend Strongman Run and leave with fun, bruises and stories to tell. There's one in Italy, today 29 September. A lot of friends of Piovono Runners are going. 18k run with 24 obstacles.

There's one in Germany, one in France, one in Switzerland, one in Belgium, one in The Netherlands. If you are in Europe you can easily be a Strongman Runner. If you are in Singapore, well, you can just be a Strong Man. Where's my oil?

(Once we were Strongman Runners)

Back to the Future

Back in 1992: "kid, one day you'll wait for a bus in Singapore at 3.30 a.m. in order to run 21k" "Sure, why not?"

Back in 1995: "kid, one day you'll catch a bus at 3.45 a.m. in Singapore, and it will be full of people dressed like you" "Come on!"

Back in 1999: "boy, one day you'll publicly spread vaseline on your genitals without any shame" "Man, you're gross!"

Back in 2002: "boy, one day you'll start and complete a half marathon before the cock crows" "Why should I do such a stupid thing?!"

Back in 2005: "man, one day you'll run the Singaporean Army half marathon, where each squad organizes refreshment and collateral events" "Peace and love, bro"

Back in 2008: "man, one day you'll hear a woman screaming to cheer you during the race, but that is a soldier of the Singaporean Army" "What did you smoke bro?"

Back in 2010: "man, one day you'll turn a corner, 5.50 a.m. in Singapore, and you'll see Indian dancers and fire-eaters" "And where are the elves?"

Back in 2011: "man, one day you'll finish a half marathon in Singapore as the top 30 over 10,000 participants" "Has someone cut their legs?"

Back in March 2012: "man, this year you'll run a half marathon over 1h30m" "Are you kidding? I'm faster than that!!"

Back in May 2012: "man, this year you'll run a half marathon in Singapore under 1h35m" "Shut up and pass the booze!"

Anytime after 2010: "man, one day you'll finish a half marathon in retro-running and waving a flag" "That I believe"

True story.

(in the picture: sunrise in Singapore)

First Training for First Trial

Back again to "First Times".

I applied for a trial.

Maybe someone still doesn't know that, but I came back to study. I'm a graduate student, in Singapore. To be specific: National University of Singapore, aka NUS.

As a student in Trento (my undergraduate university) I used to do a lot of extracurricular activities. Mainly in university politics, associations and moot courts. Here I tried with sport.

Football?
The first people I meet are from the football (soccer) team of the faculty of law. Nice guys, but the team is full. They're all friends and all come from the same batch. No wonder they loose every game...

They are nice, though, and give me the number of a guy from the cross country team of the university. Yes, the running team.

Running!
The captain of the team (yes, there is a captain), is one of the nicest Singaporeans I've met so far. "Sure you can come". "Yeah take it easy". "Give me your mail and I'll update you on any event".

So I go to the training, today. My first "serious" training ever. It's done in the track field of the main university campus (yes, there is a track field in the main campus. And yes, there is more than one track field).

We warm up. We stretch. We talk ("ah, you're from Sicily, the godfather, ahahah"). Then the captain tells us the exercises we are supposed to do. The easy ones are 200m x 16 with recovery of 1 minute. The medium ones are 800m x 6 with recovery of one minute. The tough ones are 1600m x 3 with recovery of 1 minute.

The pace is that of a 5k race. Which means that everybody has his or her own pace (yes, there are girls). The good thing, though, is that there are enough people so that everybody who wants, can train with someone else, at a common pace.

Someone may wonder, is this the NUS Cross Country Team? Isn't there a selection? How can you have a team like that, were everybody may go at the pace he or she is good at? How can you choose who participates to the races (yes, there are races)?

That's what trials are for. You can just go to the track and run, with people who cheer during your training. But then comes the selection. Next tuesday, there is a 5k run, in the track. Anyone who wants may join it. Anyone who wants is individually timed. The first six runners will participate to next cross-country competition, wearing the colours of NUS. Before every competition there is a trial, so that everybody has the chance to run for NUS.

I will go to the trials. But I know I can't make it. Last time, the minimum time to qualify was 17 minutes and 10 seconds, 3m25s per k. They're good, they've been training for 2 years. I will try to run 5k in 18 minutes and 20 seconds, 3m40s per k. I won't run next cross-country competition. But this is only my first trial...

Ah, I almost forgot to talk about the first training for my first trial. Of course I chose the 1600m x 3. Of course I trained with two of the the fastest guys. Of course I died.

We ran the first 1600m at 3m19s per k. Exhausted, but we did it. One minute (yes, one minute) of recovery and then we started the second round. After 200m I lost the other guys. After 200m I decided I didn't want to pass away 28 year old, and slowed down. I closed at 3m49s per k (they did at 3m25s per k).

After 2 minutes (at least 2 minutes, come on!!) of recovery, we started the third round. One of the two guys was also "tired", and ran with me. We closed the last 1600m at 3m39s per k.

Then the "tired" guy cooled down for 5 minutes (yes, I know, it's impossible to cool down in Singapore), and went for some uphill interval training ("just" 50m x 5).

***

I know, my posts are going to become even more boring, with all such numbers. But for me, these numbers, make me feel like a happy little child.

(in the picture: Tinky Winky, Dipsy, Laa-Laa, Po, and Valerio, training for the trial)

Talent and Effort

Prologue: I have never run a 10k race under 40 minutes (i.e. 4 min per k). Though, I ran 21k under 4 min per k (best so far is 3m54s per k, 1h22m10s). The reason is that I'm never trained enough for 10k races. They are usually at the beginning of the running season in Milan: between September and October. Than, there are only half marathons, 30k and marathons. I wanted to run a 10k under 40 minutes in Singapore. I cannot train well for half marathons and marathons here, it's too hot for me. And there are a lot of 10k.
Today, Sunday 26 August, there was a 10k race. As I wrote in "Need for Speed" I lowered my expectations. The benchmark wasn't 40 minutes but 45 minutes (the time of last year's Deejay Ten). Well, here's the parable.

Talent and Effort
There was a young man in Singapore. Someone may object he was not young. He felt so, despite his appearance.

(in the picture: the young man, the flag of his running bunch, and Marina Bay Sands)

He had everything a runner may want: strong legs, dry physique, and aerodynamic head.

In the past he had proved himself that he "could run like the wind blows" (cit. F.G.). He had also proved himself that "shit happens" (cit. F.G.): i.e., when he didn't train as supposed to, he couldn't run as he wanted.

The day came when he put in practice this last valuable lesson. Again, this time in Singapore. It was a 10k race. He started very fast. His strong legs put him easily in a pace of 3m45s per k. After the 3rd k he lowered to 4m per k. 6th and 7th k came at 4m03s. Then it came the 8th k: 4m25s (translated from runner to human language: he started fast and then slowed down, too much).

What went wrong?

After the 4th k the young man was feeling a lot of pressure. The three beers he had the night before were drying out his mouth and his body. The heat made him hard to breathe. But most of all, his legs were becoming stiffer and stiffer. He didn't train enough. Human bodies may bear any condition on earth, even Singaporean unfriendly weather. Human bodies just need time to get adapted.

Adapting a European body to Singaporean weather is not an easy task. The young man knew he hadn't done the minimum required. He started slowing down. Down, down, down. He was finishing the 9th k in 4m20s. Out of the games. No 10k under 40 minutes.

Somehow he felt that was good. There was a lesson to learn: No money, no honey. [wrong lesson]: No pain, no gain [right lesson].

His motto is "dream it, plan it, be it". This time he just dreamed it.

Then something happened. Something unexpected. The sign of the 9th k arrived too soon. The organizers of the race counted the 9th k wrong. It was just 950m. Thanks organizers!!

He was back on track to finish the race under 40 minutes. He pushed and pushed. Then he started thinking. "What if I really need to learn a lesson?" "What's beyond this race?" "Why the average Singaporean runner is so slow?" "For what f***ing reason did I wake up at 4:50 this morning?" "What kind of drug took the guy who imagined Marina Bay Sands?"

While he was having all such thoughts, he suddenly realized he had slowed down again. He checked the time. It was too late. He smiled. He took out of his pants the flag, and started his usual final retro running.

Wiser and sleepier than ever, he arrived. In 40 minutes and 12 seconds.

(in the picture: 40 minutes and something later)

Lesson learned, fun had, let's go to eat.

(in the picture: the young man's breakfast, eggs with fried mushrooms; bread, butter and
jam; porridge; yoghurt with papaya; coffee and milk. No bacon: parva sed apta)

Epilogue: funny happy ending. The average Singaporean runner is unbelievably slow. I finished the race as 8th. I was in line to take a free picture when they mentioned my number as one of the top ten. Free picture and $50 check. It could be my profession in Singapore.

(click to enlarge)

Now I remember there was also a cup. After I got the check anything else was of few interest to me.

Need for Speed

I need speed.

My training schedule has been breached many times, runs have been postponed from day to day.

Too hot, too late, too early, too study, all excuses for not getting up on my feet and start running. I tried to recover whis week, but there's not much to do so close to the race.

Yes, there's a race. The second one for me in Singapore. This time it's 10k, all around Marina Bay.

(In the picture: location location location)

I had planned to run it under 40 minutes. There's no way I can do it so fast.

The new benchmark is 45 minutes. But still, how can I strengthen my chance to finish it within that time? Luckily, a Korean singer showed me the way.

Too hot? Your body isn't fit enough? Don't do drugs. Live strong.

Need for speed? Just do it Gangnam Style.

Once Upon a Time in the East

Warning: this post doesn't recognize boring concepts, such as time and space. If you're puzzled, just remember: today it's February 29, 2086.

I remember July 14, 2011. Carletto and I on the top of the hill. We were celebrating the greatest victory in the history of humankind.

(in the picture, from the left: Carletto, Valerio, and Ruggiero the fiercest hunter)

"The greatest victory". That's what I wrote on my Wikipedia page, on May 20, 2024.


So young and brave. We were the first ones to complete the Journey To The End Of The Night.


I remember July 30, 2011. Carletto and I, writing the story of that Journey.


I remember July 21, 2012. Writing my second of thousands posts in English on Piovono Runners.


I remember July 25, 2012, four days later. Running free after the exam of Corporation. I remember what I did later, actually. Coming back from the run, I played some basketball. The days after are quite confusing. There was a 5k run, on July 29, that's for sure. Everything else is covered by some fog. As if it were erased from memory.


A similar thing happened in 2057. It was my 2468 marathon, on Mars. Third time, excellent view, fabulous organization. They don't organize such races nowadays.


I remember the journey back from Mars as very very boring. We were closed in a room, floating. Neon lamps 24/7 to keep us awake and relaxed.


Something similar happened in 2012. I spent a lot of time in this room. Now that I remember, there were other people. They gathered there quite early in the morning. They sat all day long, until the light reddened their eyes.


I remember now, I can see myself mirrored in the window. Greeting at the old Valerio of 2086.


"Hi pal, how's going? Remember that chicken biryani you ate on July 29, 2012? Bad choice."


How can I forget. It must be still there, somewhere in my stomach.


Now I clearly remember those days. We were studying Rule 144. § 5(b)(1) of the Security Act 1933. Life is strange. A bazillion ago I didn't remember anything. Now everything is illuminated. Clear memory of that stuff. Too bad they stopped trading securities in 2013.


I remember July 33, 2012. No, wait. At that time July had only 31 days. It was August 2. We finished last exam, M&M's (or was it M&A?). I had a celebrating run. An easy one. Then we all slept for 24 hours.


But if we go back to July 29, 2012. Again. Apart from not eating that chicken biryani. There was something I had to do. What was that, what was that, what was that?


"Old pal, when you're finished, I need the laptop to write the scheme for tomorrow. The exam is in 24 hours."


Scheme? What scheme?

"The one that saved your butt on the last question. You had to write it after the 5k run. Remember? 'An easy 5k run, a fast meal, back to the library and finish the scheme'. That's what you said. What did you on the night of July 29, 2012, old pal?"

It's better if you don't know it, son.

The first time of Valerio

I promised Cristiano to write a post this week. By the end of the week, I said. Well, that's it. We got it. The end of the week.

The first of you who read this post in Europe will think it's not the end of the week. It's still Saturday. Well, it is. It's Sunday in Singapore. The end of the week. We're in the future, peeps.

Surprise surprise, I'm in Singapore. And I'll stay here for some other months. If you can speak Italian, I hope you already knew about my moving. I wrote it in the story of the Barabapà rosa.

Second surprise: I'm writing in English. Today I told a friend about Piovono Runners. And I realized that my last post in English was exactly a year ago, after the killings in Utoya.

So, I told my friend about Chiara and her first uplifting post. Her first run. How I was happy for her. How I was happy for me, to have had a small role in this big moment of her life.

The first run.

I remember the first run. Sadly not the very first run. I remember some of the first runs. Probably not so intense as Chiara's one (seriously, you should learn Italian just to read about her very first run).


I mean the first run after six months I couldn't run and walk. The first run after a break up. The first run in Milan. The first run in London.

What's so special about those first runs? I tell you what's so special. You pierce a veil, you move forward.

I remember the first run in Singapore.

It was three days after I landed. Three days, I thought, just to get used to the climate. This is what I tweeted after that run:

First, easy, run in Singapore. 5k in 24', just to get used to the climate. I'll never get used to the climate.
— Valerio Scollo (@VScollo) Mag 6, 2012

Well, third surprise, I got used to the climate. I run at least twice a week. Not as often as I'd like. But that's life, you cannot always do what you want.
I'd like to run with my friends around Parco Sempione in Milan, at 6.30 in the morning.
I'd like to run with Podisti da Marte and the visitors of Milan, with "Run in Milan".
I'd like to run with Chiara, at her pace, and see her running bud sprouting gentlly.

Those will come after another first run. I'm in Singapore now, and I get the joy to run with Angus and Hilda. With Alessandra and Julia. With Giorgio and Fabian. With Soonpeel, though for a short time.

Two months ago I had my first run in Singapore. And there's only one thing I enjoy more than that: my next run in Singapore.