(Not really) Running in Amsterdam

I did not manage to do it.
From the sports point of view it was really disappointing: actually my body has not presented so far any sign of having run 42,195 km.
And I did. It took me 3h36min and a few more seconds.
But I did not run. Not in the way I could have run. Not as I wanted to run.

I started confident and quiet, not impressed by the fact of being in the Olympic Stadium or either for facing the first great deal of my journey. I knew that I was very able to do it in less than 3h. I had actually fixed a target time of 2h40 min when inscribing me the last afternoon at the sporthallen.
No hesitation or weird sensation.

Not even when the race started.
Everyone around me set up their chronometers. I bet I was the only one ready to run without a single watch.

The shot was off. 20 seconds later the race was beginning for me.
I instinctively took care of taking a proper path to install my rhythm with no disruption.
It was done after one km.
One 330ml bottle of water mixed with lime juice and honey in the right hand and my first sport gel in the left one.

The goal was not forcing for the first 25 km, keeping a rate of 4min per km, isolating me of others runners’ rhythm and breathing, and taking care of well hydrating me.
Then I would taste the gel and will check my sensations when increasing speed.

The scoreboard displayed 20 min at km 5.
40 min at km 10.
1h at km 15.
I drank the bottle between km 7 and km 13.
I took a glass of isotonic drink at km 15.

I began to feel like going to the toilet at km 17.
I passed km 20 with a few more seconds over 1h21.
I went to the toilet 500 meters farther. Well not exactly toilets… lets say “natural” toilets.

And I began to felt like running faster as I felt much lighter.
But I still prevented myself from speeding up.
I felt fine.

1 km later I sensed a sudden pain in my right tendon as I put my foot on the floor.
I tried to keep my mind awake but saying to me that it came from a wrong step and that it would probably disappear a few steps later as sometimes have already happened to me while training.
So I kept on running attending to recover the good mood.
200 meters later my mind was scarred face the idea of stopping from running as the pain was enhancing.

How could it be possible?
Would I drop out of the first of the clues events of my journey without having given anything out of me?
I had run more even in my last windy up-tempo training -at the same rate of 4 km per minute- one week ago, when I had had worse sensations at the beginning.

I could not quit. Not like that.
I had to try anything.

The target time had become a rear shadow in my thoughts.
I stopped for giving a massage to my foot…It was completely blocked. I could hardly spread it out in any direction.
Anyway, I sought to warm it up before putting the shoe on again.
I attempted to run… I could barely do three steps.
I stopped again. The idea of crying came to my mind.
I tightened the shoelace.
I tried to put the foot on the floor again.
I could not.

I was about to crying.
Would it be the finish not only of the Amsterdam’s marathon but of my journey?

A flash lighted up my mind.
I was suddenly taking both of my shoes off.
I could put the rigid right foot on the floor.
I managed to move in a rude way but faster than walking.
At the beginning the fear kept on my mind as I was about to put the right foot at every step.
500 hundred meters I was “running” on my heels.
1 km later I realized that I could finish the marathon.


No matter how long it would take me.
I had to finish.

I remember having lightly considered the idea of giving up as a reasonable possibility that would assure the continuance of the journey.
I then thought that if the pain did not deepen, the injury would be the same…so I had to try to hold on.
Why?
Because the pursuit of this journey is also about finding and overcoming limits.
I found one, I overcame it and now I am trying to take advantage of it and to act in the proper way to prevent it to appear again.

I did not care anymore for the time. I was ready to spend three, four, or whatever hours would be necessary to reach the finish.

I certainly did not run. That was not running.
Was it worth?

Definitively yes.

What for?
Because of the boost of Mikael and Phuonge when they saw me running with the shoes in my hands at km 25.
For my reaction when I saw Mikael, pulling the chip off the right shoe with my teeth and throwing both of the shoes to him.
For people clapping and encouraging me as they realized I was running in socks.
For the support by runners who passed me over.

For the more than 2 km of non stopping yells by Marie and Phuonge.
For my boosts to the runners that could not stand anymore.

For the almost 20 km that Mikael biked alongside my path. For his socks.

For the smiles in my face every time I thought about the real possibility of having run in 2h40.
For the hidden tears behind my eyes every time I ideated the arrival to the Stadium as well as for the grins following these menacing tears.
For the long yell I shouted at Voendelpark at km 40.

For the 2h16min free traffic, barefoot Sunday morning wander in Amsterdam.
For those last 2 km alongside the Italian runner: our talk, his words when arriving to the stadium:
- It is an honor to finish this marathon with you.
My right hand holding his right hand with 10 meters to go.

For these 3h36 mark: a really bad personal sportive performance but a worth experience to balance myself…as well as to tighten the bottom of my feet.

For this guy who had been overtaking me alternatively for the last 10 km, looking for passing his admiration to my accomplishment.


I did not even stretch after crossing the line. I could not put the foot on the floor anymore after having stopped at the arrival but I had no impression of having covered the distance. Not at all.

I headed straight to the massage hall –well I was carried there by Regis and Mikael on a bike.

I had no more chance of stretching as after having spent two hours at the cross red post -without anybody who dared to touch my foot- the ambulance came to bring me to the hospital.
Neither there anybody considered worth to touch it.
After letting me have a 1 h nap, the doctor told me that nothing was broken –nothing! What a pity! May I come back home running please…?

The thing is that 4 hours after the end of the race I had already recovered a little of mobility on the foot: I was not able of turning it horizontally but I could move it 3 cm up and down.
So I was fine for the specialist.

They let me wash my feet.
Then Fernando, Maria and Andoni arrived to the hospital with my belongings…so I eventually asked for having a shower…and I took it.



I was going out of the hospital at 7 p.m., with the foot almost as tight as 6h before but having taken a long quiet shower without any runner bothering me around.
I was not aware of this special service of Dutch hospitals.

They did not even ask me for any piece of identity or made me sign any form.

Amsterdam by ambulance and some radios for free.
Maybe it was the special award to the winner of the barefoot category. i can not believe that anyone else barefoot arrived before me...Did I really win?

I have begun my own treatment from Monday morning: ice bath and massages.


The foot has been recovering its mobility gradually and even if I still feel a slight pain on the foot I can walk normally and the most important thing, I can bike without any trouble.

Of course I would like to have any specialist advice before coming back to the route for taking the training again in a proper way that ensures my success in Mumbai.

I am waiting for the advice of the organization –Yvonne again…

I have also begun the quest of the right shoes for my feet.
I am sure they are the origin of my pain. I guess that they made me put the foot on the floor in a no natural way that hurt me.
Florian, I feel really sorry but I am afraid that I could not put them on anymore.
But I will keep the soul of your gift with me, as I have done so far:
I will not drop at all.

“Tiembo larg' pas!!!“

Thursday morning; plenty of others things to fix…
The phone subject, the Europe’s forum, plugging all the videos, the post-marathon analyzes –if I can afford them-, as well as the advice of Andrea about my foot…

And a little visit to the Albert Cuyp market for looking for some staff for my bike.

I will leave Amsterdam not later of Saturday morning.
I have to confirm my hosts on the way to Berlin.
Looking for being there on the last week end of October…