After Pisa, my plan was to sleep in. However, yesterday morning, I awoke to the claps outside my window-cheering for the runners of the Rome Marathon. As it goes, marathons are close to my heart, so I went out on the balcony and had myself some coffee while I watched. And as I saw the first fleeting ebony panthers, then the larger majority, and few scattered one's near the end, I became curious...A typical marathon is 24 miles or 42 kilometers...
You start off and find your pace, feeling good. After the first 7 kms, you're sweating a lot, your heart rate has increased, you feel okay. Then past km 15, you start to feel uncomfortable, a little strained and thirsty. So you drink a lot of water and soon notice you feel bloated, nauseated even. Several kms later, you're past halfway and your glycogen is gone. That means no fuel. The body begins to burn fat to keep going. You start to feel that your joints are forced and fatigue in the muscles. At 30 kms, the body begins to desperately repair the damage, resulting in inflammation and excruciating muscle cramping. You lose any pace you had left. Now, as you pass km 40, you can barely breathe, you begin to feel disoriented. Mental and physical exhaustion sets in, you're not even running in a straight line, your heart rate is too high, and you aren't getting enough oxygen. You black out.
I found out (http://www.marksdailyapple.com/physical-effects-poor-training-marathon/#axzz1pbcNaqNh) this is what happens to people if they don't properly train for a marathon. And they're lucky if they're treated for arrhythmia, dehydration, heat stroke, and exhaustion, and not for cardiac arrest or renal failure. The first man to run a marathon died after all.
So how crazy strong do you have to be to finish a marathon and feel great after you do it? Say go dancing afterwards? How strong do you have to be to do it 11 times? As strong as my mommm! Where those genes went, I have no idea. They're still developing maybe. Anyway, I knew she would have made me go if she were there with me, so in Sofia's honor I went to watch the runners cross the finish line. And cried, okay? It's just insane to me really. Maybe one day.
But, instead of going back to the apartment and throwing on some sneakers, I ended up having my first pizza. I was just waiting for the right moment. Sort of like a pizza virgin. Valerio, has an obsession with Est! Est! Est! a historical restaurant from the 1920's in the Cavour area, famous for their special crust-making technique, so he, Maria and I made our way there. The pizza was perfect. I mean, beautifully light and thin, yet doughy at the same time. Not too much sauce, not too much cheese. Pizza di Funghi: pomodoro, mozzarella and mushrooms. Per-fect. Heaven. I ate the entire thing.
Today...I had class. Blah. Tomorrow too. Blah. Maybe I won't go. Maybe I'll just be Italian about it...
Buona Sera!
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