Another month has passed in Spain but my most recent
destination landed me on the other side of the Mediterranean sea in...ROME.
For over 2 years, I have been thinking seriously about
running a marathon. When I lived in France on my year abroad, I was there
during the Paris marathon. It looked like one of the most incredible routes
ever but at the time, I was struggling to do 5k without stopping. I chatted to
a couple of people who had done it and was totally in awe. I added “Paris
Marathon” to my mental bucket list.
In September 2014, back at university, I decided it was time
to push myself. I was dithering over whether to sign up for the Paris marathon.
I still wasn't 100% confident as 42 kilometres is an extremely long distance to
walk, let alone run. I signed up for the Southampton Half Marathon with my keen
flatmates instead and began training.
My flatmates and I went to Parkrun on Saturdays at 9am. It
was only 5k but the first week was not fun. I dragged myself out of bed every
weekend (well, sometimes WAS dragged out of bed) at 8am, cycled to the park in
the cold, ran til I gave myself a stitch and then we'd all come home for a fry
up!
As the weeks went by, I found myself improving. Bit by bit,
the stitches disappeared, my muscles began strengthening and my PB (personal
best) times got shorter. One week, I ran 5k in 25 minutes – six minutes shorter
than my first Parkrun in October.
The months got warmer and in training for the half-marathon,
I went on longer runs. At the time, I had never run more than 8k. When I first
ran 15-17km with my flatmate (a month before the half marathon), I felt like I
had achieved something impossible.
On the day of the half marathon, I pushed myself as hard as
I could. It was beyond anything I had ever experienced before, sports-wise.
There were moments, running up hills and on uneven pavements, where I felt like
I was going to fizzle out because I was so tired. However, when I crossed the
finish line at 1 hour 57 minutes, I was taken aback. I had written down on the
sign up sheet that I was aiming to finish in 2 hours 30 minutes.
After the half marathon, even though my knees were stinging
and my quads were aching, I knew that I was going to sign up for the full
marathon. I realised that I could do it now. The distances which had once
seemed impossible to me were achievable. Not only that, but I had beaten my
personal goal by over half an hour. It told me that not only was I capable of
running a half marathon but that I was capable of running one well.
So...after graduation and summer and moving to Spain for new
experiences, I decided to make it official. I had been toying with the idea of
the Paris marathon...until I realised that there was also one in Rome. When I
looked at the Rome marathon online, the Eiffel Tower faded from my mind and was
replaced by the Colosseum. Images of Italian streets, stone fountains, ancient
bridges and enormous pizzas were dancing around in my head. Because I had never
visited Italy and I had read so much about Rome, I decided that it would be the
perfect place to be in for such a long run. It would be unforgettable; there
would be so many things to see while running and I could fuel up on as much
pasta as I needed before the race.
So six and a half months later, I got on a plane from
Alicante, my stomach queasy with nerves. In spite of all the intense training I
had put myself through (long runs over 3 hours at times), I was worried about
the big day. I suddenly started to doubt whether I could handle it!
I landed and travelled to the centre. I had arrived a couple
of days before the race, so that I could see some of Rome beforehand (and eat and
eat and eat). Deborah, my old housemate met me there, taking the role of travel
companion and honourary Roman cheerleader. There was a surprise visitor – our
friend Ben – who had decided at the last minute to come and cheer me on too! I
was so happy that I had supporters because I had signed up without really
thinking about who I would go with originally.
Before they arrived late on Friday night, I checked into the
hostel (which was pricey and didn't really seem like a hostel), feeling
somewhat disgruntled at the reception desk man who informed me of an unexpected
14 euro “city tax” charge. After arguing a little with him and admitting
defeat, he then slammed a blue gift bag on the desk muttering “This is for
you”.
I thought it must have been a complimentary gift bag that
came with the price of the hostel (which was odd, since hostels don't ever do
that) so I immediately felt guilty at having argued with him. There was a
pretty, nice smelling flower in it as well which made me feel worse.
In my room, I opened the bag up and a range of emotions came
over me. Delight – ferrero rocher. Confusion – a banana. “How on Earth did he
know how appropriate this is?” - a bottle of energy drink. Mingled terror and
intrigue – an ancient photograph of a Roman cave or church made entirely of
human skulls with no writing on the back.
I didn't really understand what all of it meant but at that
point I was pretty exhausted from travelling all day. And hungry. I found a
pizzeria nearby and had my first pizza in Rome. When I finished, it was about
11:30 but I was much more awake so I decided to do some late night exploring.
With my map, I set off to find the Trevi Fountain, which ended up being a 25
minute walk from the hostel. I couldn't stop staring at everything I saw on the
way; so many monuments, ancient Roman architecture, signs in Italian (I could
decipher a lot from my knowledge of French and Spanish).
When I reached the Trevi Fountain I was taken away for a few
moments. Aside from there being hundreds of tourists taking selfies, even at
midnight, it was worth the long walk and I sat by the fountain for another half
an hour, taking it all in.
When I got back to the hostel, Debs rang me saying she would
be arriving soon. I went out to meet her when she was downstairs at about 1AM
(ironically I was doing the receptionist's job because she rang twice and
no-one was actually on the desk).
Lo and behold, she'd brought Ben along! I hadn't been
expecting two cheerleaders for my marathon! It was reminiscent of the half
marathon the year before, as we'd both participated in that. It turned out that
Ben had been the one to supply the gift bag at the hostel. Suddenly everything
made sense. The gatorade, the banana, the morbid postcard..! All Ben's careful
planning to ensure appropriate race preparation; not an uncannily appropriate
gift from Discovery Hostels Roma. We all had a good old laugh about that for
about ten minutes.
The next day we got up bright and early in order to get to
the Marathon Village to complete my registration and pick up bib number and
race pack. Being accustomed to long queues, bureaucratic complications in
foreign languages and general drama, I ensured we got there as early as
possible. As it turned out, there were no queues at 9:45 when we arrived and I managed
to get everything sorted in 15 minutes! Ironically, it took me 20 minutes to
get OUT of the Marathon Village because, similar to Ikea, it was set up so that
you had to walk around and around and around passing various stalls with reps
handing out leaflets for MORE marathons to sign up for (Ha, as if).
Once I got outside we all went across the road to a café for
breakfast. Italian coffee...yummmmmyyy. Italian pastries...DOUBLE YUMMY.
We set off from the café around 11 and I had to gloat a
little upon seeing the long queues beginning to form outside the Marathon
Villages. Early bird catches the worm! I didn't do any gloating out loud just
in case any of the bigger runners heard and I got trampled on at the start line
the next day.
We had reservations for Vatican City at 2:30pm so we did
some wandering, ending up at the Colosseum and Via del Fori Imperiali which is
where the Start/Finish line was. We had lunch (pasta of course) in Piazza
Venezia, where I would be running through twice the next day, once at the 500m
mark and then again at the 41.5km mark...
After that we made our way to Vatican City. What an
incredible moment that was, approaching St Peter's Square from a distance,
seeing one of the most influential and well-known buildings in all of Europe.
The afternoon was a bit overwhelming in terms of everything
we saw. Impressive was certainly the word that came to mind again and again,
particularly in St Peter's Basilica, which was one of the biggest and most
ornate churches I've ever been in. The pieces in the museums, from Leonardo da
Vinci to Michaelangelo's paintings in the Sistine Chapel, satisfied my
art-loving soul. But I have to admit it was overwhelming, like being in the
Louvre in Paris. There's just so much to see, too much to see all at once and
so many people crowding you. One of my favourite parts of the Vatican museum
was a hall of maps, commissioned by Pope Gregory XIII Boncompagni (absolutely
no idea who that it) in 1581 and created and put together by a team of artists.
There were also so many sculptures, so ornate and so
incredible that photos don't do them justice. I think I'm going to have to go
back to the Vatican one day and take in things I barely noticed this time
around because of being herded through with the crowds.
After going around the museum, Sistine Chapel and Basilica,
we spent some time in the actual square, basking in the last remaining rays of
sunshine of the day. It was also lovely seeing the sunlight sparkling through
the fountains on either side of the square.
We finished the day off in Trastevere, which is supposedly
the “cheap” area to eat in. It wasn't necessarily cheap or expensive but it was
beside the River Tiber and we took a stroll under the Garibaldi bridge before
dinner.
After eating (more pizza and even a cheeky glass of red
wine), we headed slowly back in the direction of the buses to the hostel. By
this time, I was feeling a little achey and was sneezing a lot. There had been
a bug in our flat in Spain that I had managed to dodge...until that moment. I
guess it was just my luck that my immune system would start packing it in the
day before a massive sporting event.
We were pretty exhausted and a little lost finding the buses
back into the centre. So exhausted from walking that we all stopped at one
point to read the map and simultaneously, without consulting one another, we
all squatted down at the same time to read the map (I suppose standing was too
strenuous for all of us) which made an Italian woman actually stop and turn in
her tracks in bewilderment and ask us “Excuse me, may I help you?”. I don't
know why, but it made me laugh hysterically and I was still fighting back
laughter as she walked off after giving us directions to the station.
That night I slept badly. I tossed and turned, unable to
drop off due to street noise and crazy Roman party animals and also because
overnight, I had suddenly gotten a blocked nose and developed a cough. My alarm
“woke me up” at 6:30AM and I felt wide awake, perhaps cause I was suddenly
jittering with nerves and anticipation for the day ahead. I think in total I
had barely slept more than 3 hours and my chest was starting to hurt a bit from
coughing.
We took the Metro to the stop closest to the marathon start
line. On the way, we saw hundreds of fellow runners in their T-shirts and bibs.
We got off the Metro and this is where Debs took a pre-race photo with me, then
took my bag and belongings, wished me luck and I made my way through the long
walkway to the marathon start line!
