Only 22 days ago who signs this article could not run a kilometer. At the beginning of February he felt a whip in the back that kept him in sports nursing for three weeks. A horror in the midst of the preparation of a marathon, those 13 weeks in which you have to increase kilometers, gain resistance and put yourself as thin as possible, in every way. Since then there was a race against time. The easy thing would have been to surrender, but I wanted to be in the exit line and where possible. This time the rhythm of each kilometer did not matter or the final mark. I just wanted to participate in a party that makes me fall in love because this distance does not know a pair. It was the fifth in Barcelona and I have always experienced all states. From euphoria to suffering, through concentration, laughter or companionship. This time above all it is about pride, pride to finish, having achieved what seemed unthinkable when I couldn’t even walk without pain.
If running a marathon already is hard, doing 60% increases its difficulty, but reaching the Arc of Triomf is something that is priceless. Until kilometer 27 I was running very lightly, taking into account the circumstances. Then we enter the world of marathon. My background said enough, what I expected if I had missed the preparatory careers and the longest training.
I had to alternate some sections walking quickly with others running soft. The back left me enough alone but all the rest of the muscles noticed the lack of kilometers and training of greater intensity.
But being from behind, as when I have been able to be later, the feeling of happiness is the same. You see floods of people stopping and starting, giving everything, each as you can, while the road becomes a sea of cardboard vessels in each supply. Luckily, mood from the band did not miss. My daughters, my wife, my teammates and the great Carles Ruipérez, who know of these pages, who was waiting for me in km 31 and 35 with water bottles and words that took me forward. By then I saw that I could end and a smile (mourning) covered my face.
Some will say, what crazy, why he raises his arms when he arrives, why a tear is skipped if the stumbling thousand will have remained? Because the prize for he never yields is the pride of finishing.
#pride #Juan #Bautista #Martínez
