Yes, I mean oil balls, but strictly speaking: fritters. Or batter fried in oil sprinkled with caster sugar.
What does it have to do with running? Well, apparently, I am living in a country which loves its sports but also its oliebollen, so why not combine them in a racing event?
I should have written this post about two months ago as the run was indeed in January, second of, to be more precise. But as I want to write about the half-marathon-race-event that I completed yesterday, I felt it is only fair to write about those runs in a consecutive order.
So. Oliebollen Race.
It was a standard Mordor day: only if Mordor was based around the North Pole. Drizzle, paired up with winds in your face… Let us not forget the grey skies. Basically, the day my usual self would skip straight to the oliebollen. Or just stay under the duvet.
But as I am living in the country that I am, I decided to go through with it and put a (good) running beginning of 2016. And let’s face it, I thought (sadly, I didn’t know how much truth was in that), not like the weather will change much later on [b.a. it did. to the worse – think: snow in March!].
I decided to take along my newly bought running shoes. As a pro at this point, after entire 2.5 weeks of training (duh), I was sure they were the perfect fit, more so on a sandy & hilly terrain. My first pro shoes, remember! By hills I mean dunes actually, pardon me – been living here long enough not to be able to tell the difference.
So imagine yourself running in your GYM shoes. Yes, gym. As I cleverly misjudged what to buy. For the perfect slippery result, while your feet are damp from the rain and full of sand. Note to self… nevermind.
Back to the Run
In short, I had everyone pass me. Literally everyone. By an entire lap. I arrived at the finish when the organisers were about to leave 20-ish minutes after the what they thought were the last runners (oh hey, wait guys, another one!)
I felt if was justified the tall muscly guys pass me, and slightly jealous of the really fit ladies who did the same. I also felt they deserve the privilege.
The hard part came when I realised that along with those, were some grannies flying by with speed that, to this day, I can not replicate. Amazing, full of life, grannies! I do admire them but imagine how I looked (and felt!) there, panting up a dune walking up”hill”, while a centenarian is passing me by with 13km per hour.
And the worst part? I enjoyed every single minute of that! The cold I got afterwards, as I did not bring a change of clothes on below 10 degrees Celsius, was still worth it.
It was in total 7.2km and I am not too sure I want to share my “running” time. Ok, I will. Nearly an hour… At least I could look forward to that unhealthy awesome olieballen snack.
Ps. By the time I got to the cafeteria where the oliebollen were waiting for the racers, there were no more oliebollen left. I got one from someone who felt bad for me.
But to this day I keep my race tag on my wall!.. to remind me of the grannies.