What smells locked in here, AIR!
There are races that call you, and there are great days, so you can sum up the half marathon in Monza.
few days fa, alla ricerca di una gara che coincidesse con i 21K di test previsti dalla tabella pro Venezia mi ero imbattuto nella pubblicità, che mi aveva subito intrigato, sia per contesto sia perchè non avevo proprio voglia di correre in solitaria 21K tirati, una vera verifica richiede sempre il taumaturgico effetto pettorale quindi iscrizione immediata in barba alle previsioni del tempo che prevedevano qualcosa di simile al diluvio universale. In effetti il diluvio c'è stato, ma il giorno precedente la gara, e a vedere i tg son stato tentato di non partire nemmeno.
Invece la Domenica all'alba cielo minaccioso ma con qualche concessione alla speranza, via verso Monza, poco più di un ora di autostrada per poi rimanere invischiato in una coda worthy of the "traffic jam" of Comencini: I get to pick the chest at 8:50, luckily, once past the obstacle, physiological for that stretch of road, I can appreciate the first signs of what will prove to be a perfect organization: inside of the automobile parking areas with access controlled by diligent volunteers, number of bathrooms that require virtually no waiting, distribution, pectorals and baggage utrarapidi despite the more than 2,500 participants, thanks to all this at nine and five o'clock are already fully dressed with a tank top official Blogtrotter, ready for heating, the glance of the square in front of the box chock full of runners is a show!
Fifteen minutes of slow running with some extension and is now entering the grid, the second, thanks to the qualifications of "Verdi's land 2010", surplus with casually up to the fence and position it in me waiting for the start. The Duchess of
30K course on Sunday were well digested during the previous week, a sign that the past month to swallow foods such as lentils, liver and other delicacies similar scored the goal of covering at least the indicator of iron reserves, and now I am here to find out what my true condition.
traffic light and fire, you go, the space is not missing then immediately pass to get my rhythm, it goes without saying that honesty nel dichiarare i tempi per avere accesso in griglia non è di questo mondo, il serpentone di runner si allunga ben presto nel rettilineo sino alla prima variante, poi in leggera discesa verso la seconda variante, la curva di Lesmo, il Serraglio, variante Ascari poi rettilineo in direzione parabolica per uscire dall'autodromo e imboccare i viali del parco, i primi 5K sono volati via in 20'18" le gambe girano bene, mi sono inserito in un bel gruppo siamo una decina, a turno ci tiriamo il collo alternandoci come capofila e questo aiuta a tenere alto il ritmo, mi impongo però di non saltare neanche un ristoro nonostante la fresca temperatura inviti a fare il contrario.
L'ingresso nei viali del parco riserva una inaspettata sorpresa: il percorso is not flat as I expected, but presents a night of ups and downs that actually bother me more than help to keep awake the legs, a bit like the marathon of Reggio Emilia, I spend 10K 40'56 "probably a stupid smile on his face and began to make improbable projections for the final time, a fly that slips into the trachea almost brings me back to earth, forcing me to run for nearly 500 meters imitating the flushing :-(
Meanwhile Heaven opens and begins to warm and cozy inside, traveling to the sixteenth, the wall of the half, but despite a temporary decline due to fatigue and the pace hold the slope, trying not to give up the direct opponents, the last km run between constant overtaking, facts, and suffered, until the return on the legendary asphalt with the last kilometer course in 3'55 "with his eye fixed on that inflatable seemed to never arrive, the catch to a Garmin : 26:16, incredulous and overjoyed because it also comes after a week of heavier by 116 kilometers.
good feeling to get back to the pits semi-deserted, 164 ° to 2540, the backpack and I pick a well-deserved shower and then change me on the ramp take advantage of what has become a beautiful sunny day and the asphalt has turned into a sort of beach where all the great finisher "is the beach" to restore themselves.
Waiting the awards (not me of course), the pleasant encounter with the Wild, author of the beautiful pics, as always borne infectious enthusiasm, so between 4 and photo chat is now starting the journey back home, now bell tower of Venice seems to me more so fuzzy! 
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