Fancy a jog?

The running here in Darmstadt is second to none and would have to some of the best in the world. Happiness is best shared though, so I thought I'd do my best to take you for a run here. I'd say close your eyes and read this, but that would be a bit awkward and make the going pretty tough.

So, you're heading out for an easy hour, the first km is on a cinder type surface and winds through the bustling university campus before hooking head-on into the forest. Here's were the fun starts. Everything is bright luscious, floor to ceiling green. Sweet fresh air fills your lungs and you're on a long straight gravel road with grass claiming the middle. A couple of hundred metres along, a single track darts off to the right, you take it. It twists and turns, rising and falling gently as it goes. Nothing so steep as to stunt your pace, but rather smooth and flowing so you can ride easily with small changes in your cadence and stride length. The ground beneath you requires a bit more attention now and your eyes are drawn down from the trees to concentrate on the uneven sandy dirt. It's light and soft in the sun and a muddy rut in the shade - perfect for the wild pigs that have rooted the grassy edges of the track last night. Your senses sharpen, wondering, are the pigs still around? And, could you catch one? Imagine that! Maybe down this track to the left? The excited adrenaline makes you take it, curious to see where it will take you and what you might stumble upon. Realistically though, you have no idea where you are going. North, South, East and West are lost in the mirage of trails within the odenwald. The only way of learning is by running and chancing across landmark pieces to the puzzle. Worst case scenario, there's always the 'Back to Start' button on the Garmin. 

Shit. You almost lose it on a rickety log bridge across a quietly bubbling stream. Suddenly your senses change, someone turned out the lights and turned on the sound. The canopy joins high overhead all but shutting out the sun and your ears are filled with the sound of countless seasons of leaves sighing beneath your every step. A few quick strides up the rise and your thrust out into the sun. Your eyes are struggling to adjust to the acre of bright yellow crop to your left and to your FARK! There's two deer! They've seen you first though and are in full flight heading for the coverage of the bush. Instantly the easy jog is forgotten and your throttle is wide open, diving down the first track after them. Your imagination runs wild, spurred on by some prehistoric beast in you and for 5 seconds you're in the chase. Reality then hits you square in the ankle as your tendons creak over an unseen tree root. Calm down and get back to your easy jog. 

There's white pollen flowing constantly past your face and big black beetles spotting the track, many having fallen victim to the cyclists commuting on this trail. The track breaks right, skirting around a ancient bomb crater, and you drop down onto a clearing dominated by a small lake where an old man is fishing, with a pole even older than him. This is the landmark you were hunting for, from here you can get home. It's 20 minutes and it surely isn't the fastest way, but at least you know it.

1 hour, 3 minutes and 42 seconds later you're back on your doorstep having just been for the best run of your life. Until tomorrow.

I can't quite deliver on the sights, sounds and smells like Margaret Mahy, but hopefully you managed a glimpse into where I'm trotting every day. To help you paint a picture in your head, some fellas did take this photo while out enjoying the odenwald, European style.

Hope you're well,

Nugget

Topsy-turvy opening in Europe

Now, where was I... 

That's right, WWIII at the airport check-in desk. Long story short, I lost and my bank account suffered some ugly battle scars from excess baggage. All aside though, I got on the plane and made it to Germany without too many dramas... (if I dismiss that my video screen not working between Sydney and Seoul; for reasons unknown we sat on the airport runway for 2 hours when we arrived in Incheon and; I got stuck in the window seat amid a pack of Korean businessmen who celebrated some "rery big deal" from there to Frankfurt. The same bunch who laughed when I ruined my airline meal by adding some, "hahaha, this is some rery hot Korean sauce"),  it was a great trip. How good is the New Zealand comfort zone eh?

From Germany it was straight down to Spain in time for the briefing for my first race - Banyoles. It's a ripper of a posse and even in early May the mercury was climbing into the 30's. See the view for yourself below, if you are reading in NZ, BYO warmth.

In hindsight, it was rather optimistic to adopt the number-8-wire-style, 'she'll be right mate', approach to flying Wellington-Sydney-Seoul-Frankfurt-Girona and stepping out of the plane on to the start line. It bit me in the arse, hard. Literally. Arriving in Banyoles I couldn't ride my bike without my arse cheeks feeling cripplingly tight, like my gluts were going to snap on any one pedal stroke. It was crazy, my arse was probably even tighter than the one on that hot girl in the skinny jeans I saw down on Heinrich-Fuhr-Strasse Street today. Only mine was awful. Dispite stretching my arse off, mind the pun, I was a mess come race day and biking was excruciating. I was faced with one of a triathlete's most feared 'D' words and had no choice but to DNF early on the bike. Having ticked the boxes in training and flown to the otherside of the world, it really ripped my undies and I was proper gutted, for me, and everyone who supports me.

Such is triathlon I suppose and due to the nature of the European beast, I had six days to sort my shit out and get my body together for the first Bundesliga in Buschhutten. This race was all new to me and consisted of a 5 x 200m relay swim, 26km team time trial ride, and a 5.6km footrace where the only thing that mattered was how fast your fourth-best team member could run. 

My body turned up to race and I was last away for Darmstadt, (my German club), in a swim so short it wasn't worth getting wet for, but *insert choice words* it was cold! In a blur we were soon humming along the autobahn, basically all 16 teams together. Dispite the road being three lanes wide, 16 x 5-man TT trains is utter chaos and is a crash waiting to happen. With my limited German in composed situations, my "links" (left) and "recht" (right) screams were gibberish to teams we were trying to ride around.


Glad to be out of the high speed carnage, it was run time, where I worked some entirely new muscles while racing. Being one of the stronger runners it was my job to get the weaker runners to the finish line as fast as possible. This meant hurling encouraging abuse in German-English; pushing politely, but as firmly as possible on their lower back; and being their very own dedicated water boy. As I write this the sorest muscles are my throat from screaming and shoulder from pushing! It all worked well though and the team was stoked to come away with 6th place in the company of some stacked teams. 

Awesome fun with some great guys, and being screamed at in German is an entirely new experience. Celebrations all round with some sponsored Krombacher-AlkoholFrie, athlete-style... then it was off to Burger King for the real festivities on the way home.

Cheers if you've read this far, that's bloody top notch and I appreciate your support / internet stalking. Hi Mum. I have so much more to write about all things Deutschland, but will bottle that up and bore you with it the next rainy day.

Okay, it's over and out from Darmstadt,
Tschuss, (German for 'see ya')
Nugget.