Close of the Season: Hässelbyloppet

Today I "finished" my running season with the Hässelbyloppet, considered to be one of Stockholm's fastest 10-kilometer (6.2-mile) races. And a great close to the season it was, with a finish of 48:18 - my fastest ever!

We arrived in Hässelby, out west at the end of the green metro line, with half an hour to the start. I hadn't been feeling great, and combined with the cold, wet weather, was not expecting much from myself. 

Waited in the ever-long line to the port-o-potties (one of my favorite words - bajamaja - in Swedish)> handed in bag> dashed to the start line with a few minutes to spare. 

In the tävlingsklass, or"competing start group," I was surrounded by serious, albeit anxious, runners, clad in the latest dry-fit, breathable, vapor-shield-max, custom gear ... or something like that. And I in my 10-year-old North Face fleece with tiny holes from the sparks of a campfire; hand-me-down cotton stretch pants; and shoes covered in mud from my most recent races (both of which, as luck would have it, were during or just after rainstorms). Hmmm what am I doing here?

Today's Hässelbyloppet - it's 25th year! - wove mainly along leaf-mâchéd asphalt paths through neighborhoods and past the gorgeous Hässelby castle which we passed on the course's only long uphill, a gradual ascent in kilometer 7 in which I was feeling surprisingly great. Floating along, I passed several people at a good pace - but reality kicked in again by the next kilometer.

Despite it all, my fighting finish put me a minute ahead of my fastest 10-kilometer time, and deserving of 2 cinnamon buns, according to myself. I also skipped the line for these. Accidentally, of course. And just checked - finished 173/1,923! Until next year...

10K around Kungsholmen Island

Racing season has begun. 

For me it started over a month ago, on a 5k through a muddy, hilly forest north of Stockholm with mounds of snow alongside the trail and trees toppled over as obstacles. 

Not my best time, but a good start.

That day, however, is not the photo you see above. This photo, taken on May 5, is from the 

10-kilometer Kungsholmen Runt

just a few weeks later.

At this point in the race, we had just powered up one of the course's long, slow hills and were just under 2 kilometers from the finish. We also happened to be passing just by my apartment building, at which point, part of me wished I was still in my bed on a Saturday morning as I'm sure so many others were. But that momentary longing passed and I focused on a strong finish.

My goal was to finish in under 50 minutes. For some reason, from the first kilometer, I'd got it in my head that I needed to run 4:30-minute kilometers. Really no excuse for such lousy math in the first kilometer. But with the speed of my first few kilometers*, I was able to finish in

[drumroll please]

49:30!

and 87th out of 679 women

Next 10k goal> under 49:30   Next race> undecided     Next run> tomorrow

*it wasn't until halfway  through the race that I figured out my calculation error

Topp Loppet i Hagaparken

Last Saturday Team Cheetah DOMINATED

Team Cheetah at its finest (and most ferocious)

Loppet = the running race

And that is what Cheetah's do best - run fast. Hence the name of our team. And we lived up to that name. 

5 kilometers in the beautiful Hagaparken, just north of central Stockholm, through forests and along lakes. The sun was bright and the weather, perfect. Indian summer at its finest. Bands played along the way, accompanied by Brazilian dancers and go-go dancers in a disco tent tunnel. So much energy along the way! I finished in 23:27, and with that, have retired from races for the remainder of 2011. Now the months of hibernation approach, but I'm not ready to hang up my sneakers yet... 

21km through the Venice of the North

Clear, blue skies. Perfect running temperatures. And a gorgeous city. It's an uncommon combination for the Stockholm Half Marathon, but last Saturday we were lucky, all 10,989 of us. 

This was the 11th year of an event whose 21-kilometer course weaves through Stockholm's center. Around the inner city --- into a tunnel through which hundreds of cars pass on any other day --- over to Kungsholmen island (and just blocks from home!) --- along the water to Gamla Stan (Old Town) and then Södermalm island --- and back to finish in front of the palace in Gamla Stan. Phewwww

Pre-race and feeling great with Tracy and Andre

With a strong start, I sailed ... well, almost .... through the first 7 km before realizing, hey, I've still got 14 to go. This seems to be somewhat of a trend for me with long races (see my post on the Annapolis 10-Miler last year which involved puking 4 times and getting 2 liters IV fluid). 

Around 8km, I started to slow down - and even had to walk at one point - before continuing at a much easier pace. I tried to concentrate on the beautiful surroundings and not the cramp in my stomach - which lasted throughout the race - and the pain in my feet. 

the start of the race, captured by NS; the first finisher came in at 1h4min!

I pushed onward, fueled by a bite of banana, a chunk of power bar, and a sugar tablet - thanks to the 'rehydration stations' spread along the course. The last 5km was painful and slow. My sore legs were fixed in one position; it was all I could do to will one step after another. Even for the final stretch, I could barely muster energy to speed up at all, nevermind finish with the sprint I've been trained to do for so many years. 

but I DID IT! I finished!

no Swedish race is complete without kanelbullar (and coffee of course), available directly at the finish line 

(palace in the background)

2h3min after crossing the start, I finished the loop and crossed the same line to complete my first half marathon. I now have a greater respect for running 21km, and am in awe of full marathon runners. But I still hope to go the distance and finish 42km someday. And I know I'll do more halves... For now, though, I'm just concentrating on being able to walk normally again.

A Race around Djurgården

And so summer running season has begun, and with it, another race. Last Wednesday, 2 colleagues and I ran the Milspåret around the very beautiful Djurgården. There was a 5k and a 10k - we signed up for the 5k, although 10 minutes before the start, we thought maybe we'd made a mistake and signed on for the 10k. Fortunately not. The group of a few hundred runners warmed up together, dancing to Eric Saade's Popular (if you haven't seen it, watch here for Sweden's 2011 Eurovision song, which came in 3rd - although you probably won't want to waste your time watching the whole thing, a minute will suffice) on this windy, sunny evening, then headed to the start line and were off. 

The first half of the race followed a small river lined with trees and a perfect running path along the edge. Then through the forest and along a rolling field in to the finish. The race ended, in my case, 24:45 minutes after it started - a fast 24 minutes running alongside Tracy, who kept me going when I felt like slowing down. She finished 10 seconds ahead of me in 7th place for the women; I came in 8th out of 82! Not too shabby. And Maija finished her first 5k race ever - hopefully not the last : )

Take 4 of post-race joy

Kungsholmen Runt

Crossing the finish line of a race is a truly glorious moment. Whether a 1-kilometer competition or a 42-kilometer marathon, the sense of accomplishment almost always overshadows the feeling of exhaustion, which anyone is bound to feel if they've given it their all. 

On Saturday morning, I ran the 10-kilometer Kungsholmen Runt around the island of Kungsholmen in central Stockholm. I hadn't raced in almost a year (the last time being the Annapolis 10 Miler last August, during which I puked 3 times, again after, and had to have 2 IVs pumped into me to keep any liquids). But crossing the finish line on Saturday, I remembered what it is that brought me back. Fortunately this time, sans puke.

this is me, not looking my finest, but about to cross the finish

A friend asked me to run the Kungsholmen Runt with her the Thursday before, giving me a total of 2 days to prepare. Not to worry, though. I've been cycling to work almost every day for the last few weeks, and have been running a bit - well, a very little bit - lately. But in those 2 days, I trained mentally, deciding to aim for a decent time, but also not pressure myself to the point of sickness.

The weather on Saturday (as the last few days in Stockholm have been) was incredibly gorgeous: not a cloud in the sky - which nearly never happens in Sweden - and temperatures around 75 in the sun. It felt like heaven, and only 4 days after what I hope will be the last snowfall! 

The bana, or course, itself was a beautiful loop around the edge of the island, with views of the city, starting and finishing in a lovely park by the water. I got to the start line less than a minute before the starting gun fired. Still, I was able to settle into a good pace early on, and stayed pretty constant throughout the 10K. I finished in around 52:49 (my chip actually didn't register so it's an estimation based on video footage). Regardless of the precise time, it felt great - and the bullars (sweet buns) at the end never tasted so good!

Ice: 1, Me: 0

March in Stockholm is a month of expectation. After 4 months of snow, there finally seems to be an end in sight. The sky gets noticably lighter every day; the temperatures hover around and then rise above freezing, if only by a couple degrees. With this inbetween weather, pedestrians are subject to the hazards of ice that melts during the day and then re-freezes at night, creating a slip 'n slide on every horizontal surface. And so it was on Saturday that I experienced first-hand what makes people tread so carefully.

I try to run every Saturday morning, and have done so through most of the winter, whether there were 3 feet of snow on the ground or sheets of ice covering the sidewalks. I've boasted about my record of falls so far - 0 - and was pretty confident I would make it through my first winter in Sweden without injury, well-balanced and fearless of the cold.

The above is a photo of the side of my thigh 3 days after my first - and hopefully only - fall of the season. Near the end of my run, as I made a slight turn, my foot fell out from under me and BAM the weight of my body slammed against the rock-hard ice. Not a pleasant feeling, to say the least. And the walk home felt more like 2 hours than 10 minutes. 

For awhile, I couldn't sit without pain, and I still can't sleep on the right side of my body, but at least it's not swollen anymore. Now I too have joined the ranks of the slow walkers, at least until spring. But I still don't plan to wait that long for my next run. 

Running

I love to run.  I love the fact that I can run anywhere at anytime.  I love that I only need a pair of running shoes and I'm set to go.  No equipment, no field, no one else required.  When I run and how is completely up to me. 

I started running before my first year of high school when I tried out for the cross country team.  I had just been cut from volleyball, and figured I would experiment with another sport before surrendering myself to dull afternoons of homework.  I could barely finish a mile at try outs, but somehow I made the team, and haven't stopped since. 

When I come home to Annapolis, one of my favorite runs is along the perimeter of the Naval Academy.  My team used to run this route on Thursdays, our LSD - long, slow distance - day of cross country, encircling the Yard, then crossing over and back on the Severn River Bridge and ending up at the St. John's hill - 11 miles in all.  It was tough, but so beautiful that no one complained. 

The Naval Academy sits right on the river, and running around it puts you along the water's edge the whole way.  I pass the sea wall, a row of huge rocks on the river's banks next to Farragut Field.  There's usually a game or practice on the field, whether football, lacrosse or soccer.  And the row of pull-up bars on the sidelines always presents a daunting challenge.  I struggle to finish even one real pull-up.

Then I run by the navy blue sailboats, perfectly aligned in a long row, their masts reaching high into the blue abyss of sky.  Pass the track, cross the narrow, wooden foot bridge that arches over Dorsey Creek, and then around Hospital Point.  Back over on Hill Bridge, go around Worden Field, the parade grounds, where at certain times of year the berries fallen from the trees smell just like puke - why is that?  And out of Gate 3 to Maryland Avenue.  Walking along the right side of the brick-layered street there, I always find myself re-enacting the scene from Patriot Games where Harrison Ford is nearly gunned down while getting into his car in that exact spot.  Patriot Games is probably one of my top 20, maybe top 15 movies of all time.   

In the past, I've made it my mission not to let any of the midshipmen - or anyone else for that matter - pass me on my runs.  These days, though, I run for myself.  On good days, I'll hold my gaze on whoever is ahead of me, and eventually catch up to them.  Other times, I just go at my own pace, and let that blur of pink or blue or whatever it may be go ahead.  Tomorrow I'll reach them, I'll be the blur.