A Weekend of Atletismo
In Costa Rica, my running hobby was a great way to make friends, see the city, and have some unforgettable experiences. I wasn't sure that I would have the same oppotunities in Corrientes, Argentina, because there just doesn't seem to be a significant interest in running here. In fact, last week a bus driver began a conversation with me because he had seen me running: "You're the only one," he said, "other than that older couple who runs near the facultad early in the morning." Basically, I stand out. No big surprise: I'm rather used to it after living in Honduras for two years. The older couple that he mentioned though I had actually already met: Mirta and Victor. I was running near the facultad one evening, and Mirta stopped me to talk for a while. We began a conversation about our mutual running interest and she promised to let me know when there were races in the area. They own a libreria across from the facultad, so it's easy to drop by and chat for a while.
A month or so ago, Mirta and Victor told me that they were planning to go to Reconquista for a well-established 10K race on April 28th. They invited me along. So this weekend, we made arrangements to get a morning bus to Reconquista in time to register for the race, eat a pasta meal, and then race at 5:00. Reconquista is in the neighboring province of Santa Fe, which looks quite a bit like Corrientes, in my opinion: fairly flat, warm, and with lots of farmland. Reconquista is a nice quiet city, but I was promised by Mirta that the crowds would really came out for the race. After arriving at the bus station, we walked to the public school to register for the race: turning in our identification, inscription fee, and "medical certificates." My medical certificate amounted to a small piece of paper with something scrawled by Victor (definately not a doctor) about my general physical fitness and stamped with something official. He teased me about charging for the service. We hung out at a park until the race, and I had an opportunity to meet quite a few of Victor and Mirta's professional running friends who were there for the race.
Before the race, it somehow became known that I was from the U.S., and I heard a radio announcer calling out my name, wanting a few quick words from me. I understood everything he said (No small blessing, right?) and think that I answered all his questions intelligibly. We started on time, and began with a quick pace through the downtown. The course was extremely well marked and people lined nearly every part of the 10 kilometers to support and cheer us on. I heard, "Vamos, flaca!" quite a few times--something, I'll probably never hear in the States; Gorda and flaca alike seem to be terms of endearment here. Although lots of people passed me in the first K, I caught up with many of them midway through the race. I started pacing another girl about my age around 4 or 5K and ran with her for quite a while, chatting a bit about her experience running a triatholon in Rosario. (Later on the bus home, I was talking with another runner from Kenya who couldn't believe that I had actually held a conversation during the race. I guess I'm not that intense--I like to enjoy the experience.) I tried to pick up the pace at the end, and think that I could have run the whole race faster...I'm used to a relaxed pace for long distance and didn't know exactly what pace I could sustain. I finished in 48:20, grabbed water, my shirt, and waited for Mirta to cross. The rest of the night we hung out with the other runners and watched the awards ceremony. We took the 10:00 bus back to Corrientes, and I enjoyed learning a few words in Swahili from my Kenyan acquantance and talked about differences in expressions of faith here in Argentina, the U.S., and in Kenya. When we crossed the bridge from Resistencia into Corrientes just before 2:00 A.M., the Costanera del Sur was still full of people enjoying the night life.
Because I just couldn't resist the opportunity to participate in a local race, I decided to run again on Sunday in the 8K on the Costanera. We gathered around 3:30 for a 4:00 (make that 4:30 Correntine time) start. Although there were again a few professional runners, this group was small smaller than that which had run in Reconquista. The weather was beautiful--a bit warm for running I guess, but pefect for the spectators at least. Those of us extranjeros were treated a bit like celebrities, our names and countries announced on the loudspeaker and placed at the front of the pack for the false start. (This false start was comical to me: we all broke the tape for the purpose of the tv cameras and then returned for the real start.) Anyway, the race went well and I finished in 39:30--a bit slower pace than the day before despite the shorter length. My main goals were to finish in under 40 minutes and beat this woman who was running most of the race a litle behind or in front of me. I accomplished both, and then later realized that my final sprint had allowed me to make the top 5 finishers among the women and win a cash prize as well as trophy. Who would have guessed? Victor kidded that my doctor deserved a percentage of my prize money. After the race I was interviewed by the tv reporter (because of being from the US, not because I was amazingly fast, ha.). I don't think that I was looking my best, flushed and covered in sweat... What a day. Life in Argentina never ceases to surprise.
A month or so ago, Mirta and Victor told me that they were planning to go to Reconquista for a well-established 10K race on April 28th. They invited me along. So this weekend, we made arrangements to get a morning bus to Reconquista in time to register for the race, eat a pasta meal, and then race at 5:00. Reconquista is in the neighboring province of Santa Fe, which looks quite a bit like Corrientes, in my opinion: fairly flat, warm, and with lots of farmland. Reconquista is a nice quiet city, but I was promised by Mirta that the crowds would really came out for the race. After arriving at the bus station, we walked to the public school to register for the race: turning in our identification, inscription fee, and "medical certificates." My medical certificate amounted to a small piece of paper with something scrawled by Victor (definately not a doctor) about my general physical fitness and stamped with something official. He teased me about charging for the service. We hung out at a park until the race, and I had an opportunity to meet quite a few of Victor and Mirta's professional running friends who were there for the race.
Before the race, it somehow became known that I was from the U.S., and I heard a radio announcer calling out my name, wanting a few quick words from me. I understood everything he said (No small blessing, right?) and think that I answered all his questions intelligibly. We started on time, and began with a quick pace through the downtown. The course was extremely well marked and people lined nearly every part of the 10 kilometers to support and cheer us on. I heard, "Vamos, flaca!" quite a few times--something, I'll probably never hear in the States; Gorda and flaca alike seem to be terms of endearment here. Although lots of people passed me in the first K, I caught up with many of them midway through the race. I started pacing another girl about my age around 4 or 5K and ran with her for quite a while, chatting a bit about her experience running a triatholon in Rosario. (Later on the bus home, I was talking with another runner from Kenya who couldn't believe that I had actually held a conversation during the race. I guess I'm not that intense--I like to enjoy the experience.) I tried to pick up the pace at the end, and think that I could have run the whole race faster...I'm used to a relaxed pace for long distance and didn't know exactly what pace I could sustain. I finished in 48:20, grabbed water, my shirt, and waited for Mirta to cross. The rest of the night we hung out with the other runners and watched the awards ceremony. We took the 10:00 bus back to Corrientes, and I enjoyed learning a few words in Swahili from my Kenyan acquantance and talked about differences in expressions of faith here in Argentina, the U.S., and in Kenya. When we crossed the bridge from Resistencia into Corrientes just before 2:00 A.M., the Costanera del Sur was still full of people enjoying the night life.
Because I just couldn't resist the opportunity to participate in a local race, I decided to run again on Sunday in the 8K on the Costanera. We gathered around 3:30 for a 4:00 (make that 4:30 Correntine time) start. Although there were again a few professional runners, this group was small smaller than that which had run in Reconquista. The weather was beautiful--a bit warm for running I guess, but pefect for the spectators at least. Those of us extranjeros were treated a bit like celebrities, our names and countries announced on the loudspeaker and placed at the front of the pack for the false start. (This false start was comical to me: we all broke the tape for the purpose of the tv cameras and then returned for the real start.) Anyway, the race went well and I finished in 39:30--a bit slower pace than the day before despite the shorter length. My main goals were to finish in under 40 minutes and beat this woman who was running most of the race a litle behind or in front of me. I accomplished both, and then later realized that my final sprint had allowed me to make the top 5 finishers among the women and win a cash prize as well as trophy. Who would have guessed? Victor kidded that my doctor deserved a percentage of my prize money. After the race I was interviewed by the tv reporter (because of being from the US, not because I was amazingly fast, ha.). I don't think that I was looking my best, flushed and covered in sweat... What a day. Life in Argentina never ceases to surprise.
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