So...after a night of looking at bus routes and maps of Malta, and memorizing the marathon route, packing a bag, and preparing my next day's clothes and breakfast stuff, (I think I was a little excited)I woke up at the crack of dawn to get to the bus-stop by 6:30. I had read online that there would be a bus leaving from our town and heading to the start of the race (the city of Mdina)--little did I know (until I got there) that this bus was a charter bus, and it was for the athletes. Shoot. Well, I asked a guy waiting to get on the bus if he knew of a place to buy a day-pass for a public bus--turns out he had some kind of "in" to this marathon deal, and he was also a very nice guy, so, he said I could probably just get on with everybody else and it would be just fine. So, I ended up getting this bus-ride for free that normally would have cost me about 2.50-3 euros--not to mention I was on a coach-bus full of RUNNERS!! It was already shaping up to be a great day...and that was just the beginning.
As the bus came closer to Mdina, the limestone that covers Sliema turned to
the rolling green and rocky hills of the Malta country-side. The sun was rising over these open fields, and they were dashed with lifting fog. While I stared in awe out the window and listened to the lull of light pre-race multi-lingual chatter surrounding me, I could barely contain myself. It had been soo long since I'd been around this many runners!Things kept going up.
Once we reached Mdina I stepped off the bus into the ever-so familiar world of the pre-race runner. Stretching, butt-kicks, gulps of Gatorade, granola bars, continuous porta-potty lines, the smell of icy-hot, warm-ups, short shorts, numbers and timing chips...this was all so familiar. A flood of memories just about knocked me o
ver--I couldn't stop smiling. Then I saw the view of the country-side from the area where we were: I couldn't move. I could barely breathe. It was so beautiful I can't even describe it. I'll admit, I wanted to share this moment/this whole experience with my fellow team-members and others I know and love sooo badly that I think I might have even said a few names out loud--people probably thought I was a foreign weirdo, but, I couldn't help it. I felt like everyone was right there with me.
I sat and drank coffee while the sun finished rising. Then, a band started up, last minute scurrying took place, and the gun went off. It was a multi-cultural rush of people--SO COOL! I ran around town to see parts of the race, then, I put my money in my sports bra, hid my bag under a bush, went to follow the runners through the county-side on a 4-5 mile loop, and made it back in time to see the start of the half marathon. I tell you what, I had taken 2 days off of running because I had been sick--but this day I felt absolutely wonderful!!
Now, to speed up the story somewhat I'll just say, even though I wasn't actually IN the race, this was a pretty good deal: I didn't have to pay an entrance fee, I got to run as much/as little of the race as I wanted, and I was given a guided tour through the beautiful Malta scenery that I captured it with tons of pictures. Not to mention, along the way I got to see a horse race, a temple with turrets, and lots of beautiful flowers, cliffs, and city-views; I ate a sandwich the size of my face; and I was able to be around people from all over the world who share a similar passion. It wa
s great.I actually trekked (walking, running, taking pictures) about 2/3-3/4 of the race before getting on a bus to the finish, which was conveniently close to our flat. Many times when I would stop running to walk a while or take pictures a runner would say something like: "You're not going to stop now, are you?". I tried not to be too big of a race-mooch that day, but I was secretly happy to have people think I was part of the race and encourage me on--even though I would have liked to explain to them that I wasn't actually quitting on them every time I walked--I was just a fellow-runner following along for the love of it all, and living in every minute of it--but as races go, I didn't have the time to explain.
Well, I could probably draw this story out even longer, but, that's my marathon experience in a very large nut-shell. I soaked-in soo much that day--so much more than I could ever try to describe. I will leave you with some final thoughts that came to me while traveling along Malta's countryside (and, yes, I know this is a little philisophical, but bear with me):
I've decided that we are all running our own races: different paces, different distances, different grounds to cover --but eventually our paths become interwoven. Unexpectedly, they cross and re-cross. Our race become's part of another's, and another's, until it is evident that we are not just racing for ourselves--we are racing for something bigger. Not only are we are racing for the love and the thrill of the journey, but also for the love and thrill of each other. We are racing for those dead-ends, wrong turns, and winding roads that broaden our perspectives and bring us to each other. So, I guess, if we look beyond our individual journeys, we are all really trekking one big interconnected excursion together.
