Goosebumps

It’s that time of the year! Race season is here. Sunshine, nerves and the smell of eager runners. I am waiting for the gates to the start section of a 10K race in Rotterdam. It’s a big race, a total of some 10.000 runners. The atmosphere is great, my legs feel good. ‘’You’ll never walk alone’’ blasts through the speakers and sends shivers down my spine.

Perhaps because it is the start of my race season. Time for a form check. The other runners feel the same. Happy chatter about races you will do/did last year/dream of doing. I just love this atmosphere, an air of expectation.

Perhaps it’s because I am back at the start of the same race I did as my first-ever 10K, some 12 years ago. It had taken my coach months to convince me I could do it. I just didn’t think I could run 10K. I ran it in 47 minutes.

Or perhaps it is because I know this race report will be one of my first blogs here, as well as a start sign for my own (online) coaching company. Super new, a bit scary, but super exciting.

Still standing there, wanting to get into the start area. There is a bit of fuzz, the gates to the start area won’t open, we are supposed to go back to the official entrance of the start area at the end of the street. Surely not an option for any of the runners waiting! Dutchies are notoriously direct, straightforward, impatient and sometimes downright rude. No one wants to be told what to do, it’s the other way around – they tell the security guards to open the gate. Of course these give in. A few hundred runners are stronger than 1 man representing authority – right?

I run. It’s been December since last raced and I haven’t done that much interval training, so I take it easy. Pace starts at 4:05-4:08 but drops to 4:10-4:16. Oops. Wake up and get back to my pace. It always takes me a few races to get back to a steady pace. It's so different from training! We leave the park (oh, in the Netherlands we call it a ‘forest’) and come back to the city center of Rotterdam. It seems like everyone, regardless of age, athletic, social and ethnic background is along the course cheering at the runners. One of those rare days where the population density in Holland is a plus instead of a nuisance.

Just when I feel that brick wall coming closer, a guy starts pacing me. He asks “41?” and I just give him a quick nod. He gestures to follow and paces me the last 2K in headwinds. He even makes the crowd cheer a little louder for the 12^thfemale coming in. Did I mention goosebumps?