Hello,
decus de l'actualite sportive francaise des jours passes? Pourtant, les francais brillent toujours internationalement, pour preuve ci-haut, votre ambassadeur a gagne in extremis et a grands oceans de sueur patriotique que la sardine qui a bouche le vieux port elle s'est noyee dedans, les 5 kilometres annuels de Tarrytoon.
Depuis cependant, il y eut et un, et deux, et trois, et quatre zeros, un virus qui trainait dans la surface de reparation desqualifia notre petite famille durant deux semaines.
Qu'a cela ne tienne, car les enfants avaient deja fini leur saison de gymnastique en beaute, ci-dessous, sous la chaleur humide mal conditionnee d'un printemps sur le declin et les applaudissements enthousiaste de la generation precedente.
Guima:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4nDQbqRbXOU
Gabi:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dsKcvz7eGxk&NR
Enjoy,
Francois
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3 comments:
Je m'en rappelle un, qui, s'il était pas n° 1 , se roulait par terre. Comme quoi, même les défauts sont des vertus . Chic ! et bravo ! V.
Bravo pour ce 5K.
On attend l'article de presse.
Et vraiment super, car être premier dans ce type de courses, ç'est le très haut niveau.
DV
Entre quelques copains qui courons a Philips, on s'envoie des "race reports" quand on fait ce genre de petites competitions. Voila le race report pour cette course:
This morning I was having a super-early breakfast with my bad-humored 4-yr-old (the birds woke him up, poor little thing), wondering what do to with the long, long day ahead when I saw an ad for a fun run in Tarrytown in one of those free parenthood magazines. As it had to be, the fun run came along with the traditional 5K, and off I was, happy to be driving on my own to Tarrytown and spend a few minutes away from home.
The field was sparse. The most notable absence was the usual winner Skyler Mosenthal (I learned that he's actually the son of the director of the YMCA). But still, I could spot one or two of those guys whom I always run against in the area, and invariably beat me. Thus I knew what to expect in that hot and humid Sunday morning: the usual breath-taking hills and a ~fivish place overall.
So I was surprised when, starting slowly (I remembered my mistake from last year, 1st mile in 5:25, this one was ~6:12), I found myself in a robust and comfortable fourth position, about 100 meters behind the trio of the leaders. The leaders were this super-steady 40-somehing car mechanic who usuall starts behind me and inexorably catches up to me, today apparently coaching one teenage girl (I learned later, she's in 10th grade) and a young boy, maybe 13 years old. Something told me that the young folks would fade out at some point, so, given that I could hear no one behind me (to my surprise), I was quite happy to realize that with some effort I could make a decent second place.
The boy faded out first, I caught him about one mile from the end. Half a mile later, it was the girl's turn. Good sports, she encourages me to keep it up. But my car mechanic is still at the same distance, and this one, I know for sure, won't fade.
But this last mile, I know it by heart; I've walked it a thousand times, with strollers, groceries, books, bike parts, cranky kids and more when we lived in Sleepy Hollow. I know the uphills and the downhills and the flats and the distances and the efforts. Gradually, I start to catch up to the first place runner, not too fast, but not too slow. And in a short uphill about 200 meters from the finish line, I sneak past Mr Mechanic like a soccer forward behind the defense lines. The guy doesn't even seem to notice (he told me later he thought it was the girl coming back and he didn't bother) but still I sprint all out out of sheer happiness to be in first place!
I finished three seconds ahead of him in 18:48. I know that's not the best of times but that's good enough to turn that would-have-been rotten day into the best spring morning! So here is my conclusion from today: if you want a race to make you feel good, chosing the right race (with a less competitive field) is more efficient than working out harder and harder each day for months.
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