KOSICE MARATHON 04/10/09
We are booked to fly out to Kosice in Slovakia
on Air Europe. A few weeks before the marathon they go bust and we have to find
another flight. Se go via Prague where we change to a small propeller plane
for the rest of the journey.
It is Richard, Bing and me. We have a great hotel near the old city centre.
The central street in Kosice with the cathedral is magical and this is where
the race starts and finishes, also where we register the day before. There is
a good band playing on the stage outside the registration building.
The Kosice Peace marathon is the oldest in Europe and the second oldest in the
world after Boston. It started in 1924 and has been run annually since then
apart from a couple of years in the Second World War. It's also always been
run over the 42.195 Km distance right from the start. So we have the wings of
history behind us.
On the Sunday we make our way to the start - and make our way back again. I've
got the time wrong and we are an hour early. We are able to laugh about it and
it probably takes the tension away a bit. An hour later we are in the starting
pen.
It's not a huge field, just shy of one thousand marathon runners plus a half
marathon which starts at the same time. There's a good atmosphere and we are
off. Looking at the photos I am wearing the usual curious outfit of a cap sleeved
top and running tights. It is sunny and everyone else is in shorts – why not
me? - especially as later in the race the tights are stained with salt. It's
a flat course all on tarmac roads and the occasional hard path, after just over
4Km we pass through the Park Anicka which is a nice change of scenery. I'm going
along smoothly and I'm liking the course, which is just as well as we are going
to do it again – it's a two lapper. We come back up the main street to the halfway
mark, the half marathon runners carry straight on under the finish arch but
we turn sharply left for our second lap. I go through halfway in 1.44.55, Richard
is 18 seconds behind me. The park comes up for the second time, I'm still going
well up to 29Km then I get struck by cramp. From then on it's pretty much a
sufferfest. I get over the cramp but I'm running out of resources. With a mile
or two to go I'm fading and I'm reduced to walking for a bit. An experienced
runner who I discover later is Milan Marton, a Slovakian M60, comes up alongside
me 'Don't walk. Run!' he says insistently. I start running and get slightly
ahead of him. A bit further on, I am pathetically, miserably walking again.
Milan is there 'Don't walk. No Walking! Run!'
In the face of this fabulously simple motivation, what choice to I have? I am
running again. There is a little kink in the road and with a kilometre to go
we can see the Cathedral up ahead. There's an inflatable arch to pass under
with the sponsor's name, U.S. Steel Kosice, emblazoned on it and now that I
can taste the finish I'm pushing hard. There's a pale blue section to run on
for the last hundred metres or so and it is the best colour in the world. I'm
done in 3.53.41, quite a slowdown in the second half but not a complete collapse.
It's a new PB by a few minutes so I have halted the trend of getting slower
and more ill with each successive marathon. Milan finishes about twenty seconds
behind me and I thank him profusely. Richard has had a tough day but with sublime
timing he crosses the line in 3.59.51.
With apologies to Charles Dickens, Kosice presents us with the best and worst
of meals. On the Friday before the marathon we found ourselves in a curious
basement cafe/restaurant which we decided, without any evidence, was some kind
of front for a gangster operation. We were the only customers although there
were a few characters hanging about. The menu was limited and very ordinary
and they didn't really behave like a restaurant at all. Now after the usual
collapse and recovery in the hotel room we find a very different kind of restaurant.
It's quite posh and stylish but not too expensive. I'm not a great meat eater
but I order the shoulder of lamb. I'm presented with the largest lump of meat
I've ever been served, it is more like a shoulder of woolly mammoth. It is beautifully
cooked and absolutely delicious. Even with my post marathon hunger I can't nearly
finish it.
It's Sunday in what must be a religiously orthodox country. Everything closes
early in the evening. Bing's already been to the casino in the lead up to marathon
day, with his desire to party and our post marathon adrenaline mixed in with
exhaustion, we find ourselves in the back of a taxi with Bing asking the driver
to take us to a late club. We drive off into the suburbs. Eventually he stops
somewhere – I can't remember what's there but it isn't a nightclub, we taxi
back to the centre. My mind is blank as to where we end up, perhaps it is back
in the hotel.
The day after the marathon we fly to Prague. Richard has to hurry back for his
son but Bing and I have half a day to explore the city before our late flight.
Sitting in an outdoor cafe in the Old Town Square in a post marathon haze, waiting
for the Astronomical Clock to chime, is a great way to pass the time.
Just completing the first loop. All the people with red numbers are in the half marathon and are about to finish.
In the final kilometre sufferfest. Milan who has kept me running is just behind in blue.