Journey Journey of the perfect wave ... poetic chronicle of a "marathon" announced ... The Asics
From arrival at JFK, until the final few meters from the finish ...
The perception of being in the midst of a special event was felt when we reached JFK Airport in New York. A few kilometers from the ground, the lights of the Big Apple did presage that we would be "prey" just landed. During the transfer to the hotel, it was already night, everyone could hear her being so 'little in the face of such complicated grandezza.Era raise his head to look at the end of this or of that immense grattacielo.Sistemati luggage, we entered the room, just a few minutes ... .. it was in the act rapimento.Nello stomach was all vibrate, but what was I doing in the room? Night on the street, alone at
center of the world. The huge vents outside the house of the early work led by the experienced hands of the operators and the powerful jets swept everything from the street and within a few moments everything was all right! The morning of the eve of the huge hole at Ground Zero brought us back to eight years before ... must have been really hard that day, and while returning back in time, you threw him New York another look at making you understand that he had already changed page.
Everything passes and is renewed in NY and Everything 's just so dynamic and at times surreal that at any moment it seems that every structure can be demolished and built within a few istanti.In every corner There is some work to be conscientious and responsible part of the vortex that feeds the city, totally different from our gardens forever and no way out we see the advance of the decomposition of the human being, who is waiting for the ' lunchtime, for those who want to be a millionaire and .... Atalanta that was made at the last minute to reach from Chievo Verona, which has frustrated the hopes of winning.
In New York the mind is liberated, the soul and the body vibrates proceeds alone as a automa.Pieni energy, it goes around and admire everything.
Spaghetti with fresh tomato and final preparations for the backpack and the first things to wear in the aftermath of the race, then groped for the bed every few hours to rest before the alarm clock is great giorno.La to 04.30, the bus on drill 05,30. At 03.00 feet to an already all in the kitchen is the beginning, without rest, the big day.
The bus in the hotel at precisely 05,30 brings us to the ferry for the first ford of the bridge landing Verazzano.Allo a 'shuttle takes us on other starting area where, after being thoroughly checked by the police we expected the tide of the brothers runners.Sono 07.40 at 2 hours and lack start.Entriamo in five and I find myself alone just after struggling with croissants, energy bars, the hot baths el'andirivieni. No one speaks with anyone, but strangely it feels a whole there is something that moves in and brings us together. The energy is so great, you feel in any act that is accomplished, we are all aware of their participation the most beautiful thing in this moment of our lives and could happen at the same time feel that I have more time to do things that I do not like to do and meanwhile are 09:15, the chest is about to enter 10210 griglia.Un bite at the bar, a sip of water, a bit 'stretching away the suit and that dry in the morning. We arrive at the bridge, national anthem, introductions of the top runners, countdown, cannon shot and viaaaaaaa!
The first mile, uphill, it's just a fly clothing and gusts vento.E 's time to mille.Sembra adrenaline of being on the moon, suspended on the bridge waiting for the sbarco.Le shoes that trample the ground: the symphony, the symphony perfetta.Noi are all the wave, the wave perfetta.Io are one of 42 000, a perfect wave.
Landing in Brooklyn occurred after about two miles into the first corner and the impact of the crowd was cheering and music inebriante.Voci accompanied me and pushed me perhaps more 'than necessary. The embrace of the crowd grew with each passing km.sempre more 'intenso.Avevo need the voices, touches, and the bells of the bands that each block is a sequence of emotions esibivano.Era meter by meter, km. after km. until the satellite reached halfway through, I reported to the technical aspect of the trip, 21 km. in h. 1.29. The mind is free, the legs should be alone, I just have to proceed and, after crossing three miles of the Queensboro Bridge, the crowd of new prey.
The world was concentrated there, behind the barriers of First Ave in Manhattan. The screams, the strokes, the power and Italy's eyes filled with admiration of the people I reported on four minutes per km.
I calculated that close to 26 km. began the stretch that would have settled down my pace at a brisk cruise but the first shock was there ', just around the corner. again band played "All My Love" by Led Zeppelin.La mind got the best of myself, the burst of tears was inevitabile.Correvo and cried, cried and ran. With me running all my loved ones looking to walk away and I felt competitive event ... it was time to proceed with the pace, I was forced to do it for them.
It was in the Bronx, 20-mile point, to 4.10 average closing km.proiettato for about 3 hours, I would burst with happiness.
After yet another up and down, unexpectedly, a tendon in his left leg and still crashes my passo.Mi berth right, where a lightning approaching some assistants who do sign that everything is in place and under controllo.2 minutes of stretching and walk away with reduced ... was already lurking in the right leg, which to me 2 miles from the finish take hostage for two minuti.Ormai I was there ', at Central Park, was nearly four hundred yards yet ... I did not end hunger ancora.La blocks the mind, in a panic I can not pull out at any cost procedere.Devo precedentemente.Riesco the energy bar is not used to pick his pocket, but I have to stop to open it with your teeth and devours it crosses the finish line exhausted, embraced another of the 'perfect wave, and we wonder \u0026lt;\u0026lt;When is the next? >>! Luigi Di Meo
