AGAINST THE WIND

Weight: 79 kilos
Time spent running since 15 November: 19 hours 44 minutes
Distance run since 15 November: 183.8 kilometers
Time left: 15 weeks

The canal that connects Brussels with the sea, via Antwerp, passes not too far from our house. It was only a matter of time before I would go for a run along the water. And time had come on the last day of the year; I took off down the Leopold II boulevard and turned left at the bridge, for a less than scenic route past commercial ports and industrial estates.

Yet, and not counting the long wall that seperates the lonely runner and other mere mortals from the gardens and palace of the King and Queen of Belgium, there are two structures I saw along the canal that are worth mentioning. One is the huge complex called Tour et Taxis where many large exhibitions and festivals take place. It is not only overwhelmingly massive, the structure itself is a gorgeous testament to the days when construction involved lots of steel. Worth a visit any time. Sadly, I found it hard to enjoy the sight as the road along the estate was cobblestones that probably provided an even surface sixty years ago but have since suffered the effects of no maintenance.

Much further down, on the edge of the Brussels municipality, is a bridge I really like. It's called the Buda bridge and again is a very nice steel construction.

A bit further still, at the Three Fountains Park in Vilvoorde, I turned around and immediately understood why the run up to that point had been relatively effortless. The wind had pushed me forth, a wind much stronger than I had noticed it to be, and now I was facing a full ten kilometers of battling head-on against it. Trust me, it took forever and I could only keep going by taking very small steps.

It brought back memories of cycling in Holland. In particular, of the trips back from the swimming pool in Apeldoorn to our house in Epe. Battling the elements is what I learned, like many Dutch people, on a bicycle. Those trips back from the Sportfondsenbad, an indoor swimming pool, were pure hell if the wind was travelling high-speed in the opposite direction. I remember gusts of rain and snow, as well as hands and facial parts that were freezing, though always just not enough to go completely numb. But I also remember coming home in our house in the Glorialaan (meaning I was no older than ten) to the warm fireplace and a hot cocoa freshly boiled up by my mother.

Sometimes I feel compelled to make sure Sanna will have similar experiences. But then the thought of putting her through the suffering involved holds me back. That, plus the fact that she cannot ride a bike yet. Ah, and the little detail of us not having a fireplace.

I made it back home alright - from the running I mean - but had to sit down immediately as the pain in my leg and lower back muscles was preventing me from doing anything more meaningful. Mind you, I'm not complaining as I only have myself to blame for this mad enterprise...

Which reminds me: I haven't signed up yet for the Rotterdam marathon. Better do it soon; it fills up quickly they say.