El Naranjo

Today I checked another item off my bucket list- to run a race in a foreign country.  (Just a warning, this entry is all about running/the race.)  I ran a 10.7 KM race (it was supposed to be 11, but it was changed.  Kelly V., I can see you laughing, shaking your head and saying ‘Ah, Spain.’ right now.).  Besides the initial sign-up process being a little different, the race itself was pretty much the same. To sign up, I had to print out the registration form from the website and fill it out.  Then I had to go to the bank (Cajasol) and pay my registration fee.  Essentially what you are doing is depositing the money directly into the race’s bank account.  The bank gave me a receipt of the deposit.  (As a side note, the bank teller asked me about my last name- where I was from because Robles is a common name in Spanish.  There is some vineyard or wine region here with that name.  He pronounced it quite nicely too- no extra syllables even.)  I faxed my registration form and receipt to the race’s office to register.  Since I registered at the last minute, I never really knew if I was in the race officially or not.  So, I gave myself extra time to get to the start just in case there was a problem.  I left the house at 9 AM and arrived at the race area about 9:30.  I followed the crowd to the packet-pick up area.  My name wasn't on the registration list, since I had sent in the form at the last minute, so I directed to the ‘incidents’ line.  There, they did have my registration information, however, I needed to take a few more steps to be officially entered in the race.  The man at the incidents line handed me a red ticket and told me to proceed to the race announcer’s van and give him my information directly (again) to be officially entered into the system.  Why the registration papers in the 'incidents' line couldn't be delivered to the van man directly by say, the man in the incident line, thereby taking the van man out of the picture for me, I will always wonder.  But, I followed directions and took my red ticket to the van.  The man there asked for my name and birth date, handed me a  race number and then finally, I was officially registered.  I walked back to the pick-up area for some pins (for my race bib) and then to the bathroom.  I walked past the line for the men’s bathroom and right into the women’s bathroom.  That is to say that there was NOT a line for the women’s bathroom, but there was for the men’s.  It was like a parallel universe.  Nevermind that there was no toilet paper- I didn’t have to wait in line!

The kids race was first.  I don’t know how far they ran- maybe 2K.  Our race started at 10:20 (it was originally scheduled for 10).  By that time, not only was I weary from my half hour walk to the start, I was running at an unusually late hour (for me) and the sun was up and baking me (I may be exaggerating with the word ‘bake’, but still…).  What other disadvantage could I have?  Hills and fast runners, that’s what else.  I don’t think there are any slow runners in Spain.  If there are, they don’t go to races apparently.  I was one of the last people to finish.  There were maybe 50 people behind me.  And I was running approximately 8:30/mile.  Anyway, if you have ever run a 5K or a 10K in the US you know that although ultimately you run a distance in kilometers, each mile is marked off during the course (it's quite contradictory now that I think about it).  Kilometers mean something to Spaniards though, so in this race each one was marked.  I could use only the 5K and 10K markers to measure my pace.  I tried to do the math in miles/hour before those but I was distracted by running up hills and minding the uneven terrain, dog poop and puddles (it rained all day yesterday).

After finishing the race, we got our bibs scanned (notice the barcode to the left) to show we finished and then we waited in a monstrous line to get our t-shirts and other goods:

Not shown:  Cruzcampo beer, a plate of garbanzo beans and the raffle ticket. Yes, I walked over a mile back (through town) to the piso will a 2-liter bottle of water, a sack of potatoes, a bag of onions, an orange, a banana, bread, two sports drinks, a granola bar and an Aldi ad.  PLUS:

The race t-shirt! Since the race was called ‘El naranjo’ (the orange tree), of course the shirt should be orange.