For a little while I have been training with Massimo, a local runner who is kind enough to put up with my slow pace and poor Italian. He has taken me out on a lot of the local training routes, where we work on my running and my Italian at the same time.
Two weeks ago he invited me to join him for a 12K race in Terni, a nearby town, this weekend. We wouldn't be able to get race numbers, he explained, because you have to have medical permission to participate in a race here. We could run unofficially, though.
Then, this past Friday, he invited me to join the local squad. It turns out that unlike in America, everyone in the races belongs to a team. This being Italy, your team is the one for your town. He is one of the leaders of the squad, and after our training run he took me to his house and dug out a brand new team uniform for me. We are even sponsored--by the local blood bank! We have shorts (very short--Italian cut), singlet, and warmups, all covered in logos like you would expect on Italian sportswear.
Today was the race. We met at the local middle school, loaded into two cars, and set off for Terni. They knew the race was in the Zona Industriale in Terni, but didn't worry too much about the directions. We just circled around a little while until we found groups of runners.
It was a very pleasant morning for a race: overcast, calm, and cool but not cold or damp. By the start there were about 500 runners.
There was exactly the amount of organization you would expect in a country that doesn't worry too much about planning but also takes sports seriously. Bathrooms? Use those in the local coffee bars, or find a convenient spot on your "warm-up" run. PA system? Non c'è. Distance? Well, while warming up I saw the 10 km sign on the road near the finish area. Since I was expecting a 12K, I asked "What is the distance?" in my best Italian, and was rewarded with the classic Italian answer, "Boh?!" That is, "I don't have a clue". After a little asking around we found someone who could give us a definitive answer: "about 10 kilometers". At least I knew not to save anything for the 12th kilometer!
Two minutes before the official start time there was still no indication of an effort to start the race. That could have been because the start line was on a road still open to traffic. Then, about the start time, all the runners congregated in the road as if to signal something to happen. A ribbon was stretched across the road, lifted a few times to allow straggling cars to work their way through the crowd, and finally removed. And then, Bang, we were off.
I ended up having a very good race for my first one in a decade. I ran with another team member who I figured would leave me behind after a few kilometers. In the end we ran together for the first 7 km, he led me by a bit for the next 2 km, and I caught and passed him in the last 500 meters. I finished with a 45:31. Unofficially. On a course that was "about 10 km". Since he and I had been running 4:30 min/km splits or better, I figure it was about 10.1 km.
The course itself? Beautifully flat, mostly on asphalt roads. At about 6 km we turned onto a gravel road that was a little potholed. The next turn was a very sharp left turn onto a completely unprepared road: two muddy tracks with a grass strip in between. At that point passing people became a tactical challenge. You had to decide whether you could clear the next puddle if you switched tracks to run by someone. Finally, after a turn through a very muddy underpass, we returned to the paved roads for the last two kilometers.
The race finished back down the first road we went out. The one that they didn't want to block off. Since it was inconvenient to put the finish line in the middle of the road for the 45 minutes that runners would trickle in, they put it in the driveway of a business instead. I'd never seen a race end with a tight 90 degree turn 30 meters from finish line. It was a bit difficult to navigate at full tilt!
Afterwards they had the usual post-race refreshments. Bruschetta with fresh tomato, olive oil, and salt. Diced apples with citric acid sprinkles in cups. Since it was a bit of a drive, we all took sponge baths in the parking lot and changed before for the trip back.
I had a great time, and as I told Massimo later, trying to follow the conversation in the car was harder than the race itself. It must be good for me, and I look forward to the next time. He tells me there is a 10K in Perugia in two weeks. By then I will have had my stress test and will be eligible for a race number!
Michael
I went to the rally yesterday! So much fun to see all those cute little cars hanging out. Let me start more at the beginning: early!
Sparing you the blow-by-blow of tooth-brushing, etc., Bob and I were ready to set out at about 8 or maybe a little thereafter. Michael had given me his kiss goodbye and gone down to catch his ride to the race. And then disaster struck: Florence came to me with tears in her eyes to tell me that her friend Elena might not be able to drive her to the swim meet in Perugia. Oh, no! 
And what it meant was that I had to roust poor Leo out of bed early on a Sunday and tell him something along the lines of, "Florence is supposed to go to a swim meet in Perugia, but I have no idea where it was supposed to be exactly, nor at what time. The parents of a friend were planning to pick her up at 10 this morning, and I'm about to leave in the car for my rally. I can't talk on the phone in the car because it's too hard to drive and talk, AND you can't hear anything. She belongs to the team meeting at the gym in Pantalla. Can you please be our savior yet again and help her figure out where she's supposed to be and get her there somehow? Pretty please?"
Poor man, he sighed and indubitably muttered imprecations to himself about those crazy Hooks.
Off Bob and I sailed, content in the knowledge that Florence was well looked after. We made sure we enjoyed our drive to the utmost by getting lost about six times on the way! Have you heard about how Google maps is foolish enough to give you highway names (rather than "direction of x town"), ensuring that you can't possibly find your way (highway name signs are non-existent here)? Well, this time I outsmarted the system by having my own lovely large-scale map of Umbria with us. It turns out that this is an Italian map: the highway names or numbers are not labeled! So on the rare occasion that we actually SAW a number, it did us absolutely no good whatsoever! Confounding the issue was the fact that any town names on signs were non-existent on our map and vice-versa.
We made it & registered in plenty of time, and were there for the start of the drive to Umbertide. There we were, all in a cute little line. An impatient motorcyclist zoomed on by, much to my bemusement...and then I realized that he was our escort!
Sadly, it was time to go home. Bob and I managed to be equally circuitous on our way back. A funny episode involved Solomeo. I knew quite firmly that we did not want to go via Solomeo. So with every sign we encountered, I avoided that direction. Where did we end up? You got it...Solomeo. At that point, the "best" way back was to go to Agello. Following the signs for Agello...did not get us to Agello. However, we fortunately found ourselves somewhere I recognized, so we could navigate quite happily from there -- quite probably not our the most advantageous route. For your amusement, I attempted to capture some of our driving...bear in mind that some of the circles may have been covered more than once
