Running a 21K is on its own something, but running in the night adds some more value to the fun too.
Running Budapest is fun on its own, but running during the night, when the lights are on, are awesome superb.
Running in 30+ degrees celsius in the other hand is never fun. Ok, it is fun on the Maldives in the sand, when a nice bottle of moet is waiting for you upon arrival to the finish line, meaning: luxury seaside bar.
Considering, that last week’s London trip ended with a nice little stomach flu, and my overall willingness towards running tending to be negative, I wasn’t sure I wanted to compete with myself in the night run race this Saturday. Compete with myself, this is my new rule, as I decided to enjoy running after my previous pro life as an athlete finally.
No matter the long and short term history, I ended up signing up to the race Friday afternoon. For the whole 21. I wasnt even considering any less. After getting my bib I stopped, and realized, once again I paid extra for being late on deciding to compete, and I wasn’t even sure I was able to run that much.
Not to mention the fact, that weather seemed scary, and dehydration was well in the picture for this race.
I had this power drink recipe from my coach against dehydration and muscle lock, so I called an ex running mate and he spared me some, as it needs to be made in the pharmacy, and I was short of time naturally. I kept drinking that, that awful, brutal drink, simply called salt, which is given to black african refugee camps for its great effect by the way too. I could drink less than a litre of it.
But came the night, and I got my wings and flyknits on.
And I got 4th.
I could been 3rd, if I pushed myself, but I wanted to enjoy.
Wasnt fully enjoying, but ran an OK time, and a consistent pace, and a good feel was left in myself afterwards. Only if I pushed myself a bit harder, I could get 3rd…
Well, next time perhaps…
o no, wait, I decided not to race, but enjoy. ok