THE PASSATOR ZOPPINO AND MORE

Good legs at all! First of all sorry if my story of the Passatore I do it after almost a month but my job (air conditioners) in this period offers me only a few free hours and managing a single life plus a runner in a short time is not an easy task.

So tonight I decided: I do not iron and do not tidy up the house, I turn off the phone, open the PC, I go to a Baileys on the rocks and pick up the memories to put down on the keyboard.

Yes … remember and think … just like I always do in the long kilometers on the magical evening of the Passatore between Casaglia and Marradi, and then towards Brisighella. In that very long stretch of 27 km that never ends, while the legs practically whisk themselves, you have time to think about many things.

I always enjoy every year reviewing my story a little. They whisk my legs a little bit though. From Strasimeno an annoying pain in my left ankle makes me run badly and with a limp, I would have to stop a bit and be seen by a good bone saw but, as a good runner with a runner’s head that is as hard as marble, I put it on, besides the usual short runs, also the 50 of Romagna and a couple of “normal” marathons. So, at 3 o’clock on Saturday afternoon I leave from Via De’Calzaiuoli, with my CAI Pistoia companions Alessandro Tonino and Stefano and the aggregate Lucio, limping like the hunchback of Notre Dame. It is good that after about twenty km, my muscles and tendons warm up and I go away “enough” regularly. But let’s go back to the Colla with my story now, on the first 50 km I will do some excursus on the road. I start from the memories that the warehouse of the brain makes me looking at the bottom of the trunk of my very first years of life. I manage to arrive when I was 3 years old and for each year I look for an episode to relate to it with certainty. And I always do, think you neurons! I consider it a good training for the mind, as well as an effective way to spend time and kilometers, like repeated and fartlek for legs, heart and lungs. Here I am in first grade, and after Casaglia passing Alessandro Vignozzi the barefoot runner, in Vado di Setta (BO), and at 60 ° km, with the teacher Giovanna Natorietti (a 40 year old bonazza with 3 kilo of greasepaint on her face and painted as Sitting Bull Mastrolia , Who at every unsolicited word of mine gave me a slap with all the rings of his well-kept handle (it was ’63 and we cinnazzi (children) also took it from the sacristan). Then the two years spent at Ca ‘di Landino on the Apennines about 5 km from the Sanctuary of Boccadirio … by the way: you will not miss the marathon HEALTH AND LIFE that starts on the first Sunday of July from Prato and right up there, between faith and pine forests it arrives? Meanwhile, go to Piero’s website www.pierogiacomelli.com to see what it is and download some free racing photos.

Returning to my memories … finishing the descent after the Fantino Station around the 60th km, here is that of the ’63 eclipse of the sun and that of the stretch done on foot every day with the sun or with the snow, sometimes even running chased by the mangy dog ​​of the widow Bugamelli, to go and return to the multiclass school where I did the 2nd and 3rd grade. Meanwhile, year after year, I arrive in Marradi. There I find my companions of my GP, Maglione Salvatore and Domenicali Uberto, waiting for me to evaluate my comatose state. “everything good? do you want something Carli? ” “Yes: a fresh RED BULL!” “And what is’ I’m RUBBULLE?” Irpino Salvatore asks in pure accent. “Tussa’na sega te what young people take” replies Uberto. “It is an energy drink, you can find it at the bar, I am going to get a massage” and I put myself in the lair of the Red Cross at the bottom of the square to get a bottle of lactic acid from the skilled hands of the masseurs. While I’m there I crush a nap of 5 minutes dry. And at the restart … WOW! But they found me the fresh RED BULL for real! I am dragged away with joy for my uvula and with despair of the Doctor Romagnolo watching me. “Bevil bàn pian ch’è fradd e po’t vegn un’ azidant!!” (drink it slowly, it is cold and then you have an accident!). But now I have dried the can and I have already splashed out of the country. It’s past ten and there are a lot of kids on the premises and around living their age. But there is not one who allows himself to make fun of these strange characters who have been treading the asphalt for seven and an hour and will have at least 3 more, indeed there are many who give us a “strength!” or a clapping or a “Bravo!”. These are episodes that make you a huge pleasure. Speaking of episodes … in the dark of the state highway and with my mind in my childhood I find myself in 3rd grade where, due to a rotten chocolate, I took a fulminating move of body in class with the consequent squacquera in the breeches and exposure to the public playfulness. I avoid the unpleasant event and after another 5 years, already in 3rd grade in ’72 attended in the rooms of the former medieval cloister in the Badia di S.Salvatore di Vaiano, I stop at the refreshment of S.Adriano, I make myself a coffee and, of come on, a slice of bread and jam. I don’t want anything solid and I would just drink sparkling water that I usually don’t use. But they still ran out of sparkling water, just as other kinds of comfort have already finished in other refreshment points further on. I have learned not to take it too much, also out of respect for the many volunteers there for hours, and I will drink something else. I think, however, that they are around 200 ° and behind me there are at least another 700. If this is the case, the last ones will find little stuff and, like the past years, they will scratch each other like Jene.

Allotment, always limping for the first 200 meters with my sore foot from the start, and I plunge back into the deep moonless darkness. I’m in the middle of that longest stretch of the race that never ends. I definitely review and encourage Alessandro Vignozzi. The refreshment of S. Cassiano is great and, km on km between concerts of frogs and owls, I overtake a lot of runners among which also the megasupermarathonman Antonio Mammoli and I also overtake the memories of my adolescent loser spent in Vaiano (Po) on a green vespina 50 with the boys of the Parish and with a parish priest who, despite never having linked much with the Clergy, I always remember pleasantly: Don Santino Brunetti then became parish priest of Maliseti di Prato.

Strada Casale… 1974 when at CAI in Prato we were a handful of passionate racers and we founded the local Podistico Group. Among us was Roberto Giacomelli, or the legendary and late “Bulletta“. …. Transit to Fognano … and the Military service done in the places of the Friuli earthquake … and the kids at the refreshment point who get busy with an enthusiasm to admire. Their mothers who want to take them to sleep (but they are the ones who fall asleep more): “Francescooo … Lucaaa … let’s go, that’s the one-on-one” “But mom! Now I can’t micca! what to give stuff to coridori! You don’t see how many of them were … they need to eat and I’m there … the supplements are running out! Then tomorrow morning is Sunday and you sleep … Alessia, put the slices with nutella very well, even more brisa” Fantastic! Well done!! Now we begin to see the illuminated fortress of Brisighella in the distance. That fortress is always a nice sign, like a billboard that says to you: “Go now that it’s done … you’re at the end … you have the last 13 or 15 km … do it all in one breath that you have a nice shower … cold! Oh no, this time I don’t care! I arrive in the square and run straight away, still quite hot and sweaty, in the shuttle bus so at least at the gym I can stand the shower (it will certainly be freezing). The last memories end with the fantastic world cup of 1982 and the trip to Hungary with two other unlucky friends in desperate search for love, as Guccini says in his old song “Bologna”, even just ancillary. So then I did not bother a witch I miss there… then at the Brisighella restaurant, returned this year to the central square, I allow myself 100 meters walking to face the last 12 km. Come on guys! Via that in another hour we finish it (the Passatore)! “Yes! Con ‘sti du ’maròn!” a runner of clear local origin tells me. But this … between the darkness and the yellow light of the sodium lampposts that make your skin green … it seems to me that I know him … he’s wearing the Supermarathon club shirt … remember my past. I’m just focused on scratching the last forces from the bottom of the barrel to get to the end quickly. It has been tough this year too, it has been for me since the beginning. I shouldn’t even have done it with a bad foot. A 100 cannot be done if you are not in perfect condition or, at least, you cannot do it decently and with taste. At Borgo S.Lorenzo I took a half Aulin and another half to Colla. And how much water I drank today! And how much I threw myself on the head and hot feet! He made a hot hangman. Better than last year, of course, but always heavy especially in that stretch between Borgo and Ronta where the afternoon sun hits you hard. Then in Ronta the discussion changes radically when you enter the shadow and coolness of the valley of the Ensa torrent. But also enter the nauseating cartoon of the usual “smart” who clog the road to follow some runners placing themselves behind them with cars and campers or stopping in absurd places also blocking the ciborium (The worst of the worst, however, is always at the top of the Peak the Crosses ). The climb before Razzuolo for me is harder than that of the Colla and right there, pushing, the pain in the foot is felt more. Also in Razzuolo, a first massage avoids the danger of cramps. I take a mouthful of colored salts that I almost spit in the face, Totò style, to the refreshment volunteer. They taste awful! They will also do well but I prefer cramps! Luckily, I sent the change and two sachets of my supplement to the Colla, where I arrive quite quickly taking the last sun.

Ohè! … but I arrived in Errano! I did these 6 km in an instant, together with a beautiful blonde girl from Vicenza, who then placed 12th “pulling” each other. Carbonated water is also missing here and then I start clauding with my leg and a half, tic-troc, tic-troc, tic-troc, tic-troc …. after a last tea and a lump of sugar for the final blaze of energy Another half hour, all straight, straight, straight … then finally the intersection that throws you to the right and puts you on the path of the final two km. At the bottom there is another traffic light flashing. It is that of the Corso intersection that takes you to Piazza del Popolo. At the last km sign, I start the countdown every 100 meters. Go, go, vaiiii! Although my ankle also swelled like a popone, I left the little blonde behind and that known one, in addition to about 10 others, Piazza del Popolo opens with a mega inflatable illuminated patch arch. Peter Pagliai and some other friends present in the square applaud me and finally, after 11 hours and 41 minutes, the chip beep sounds which officially declares this Passatore finished with a dignified, considering the conditions, 195th position. I drain the adrenaline with a jump and a kick to a barrier. Yes, a well-given kick! But as a good fool I shoot it with my foot, causing me to escape a florilege of colorful heresies. I go up the ramp of the stage and the boys give me the medal while at the bottom of the square I see even the guy with the glasses come in that I don’t remember who he is … well … do nothing! We congratulate each other and, while I go down the stairs like a lame, a chilling war cry rises from the arrival: “… AND TUMBLING TONIGHT!”. But go … But that’s who he is there !! The legendary Gemma Lorenzo! However, good weather that he did too … congratulations! You can see that all its tr … … load it well!

My friend Lucio De Chigi is there under the refreshment tent. He didn’t even manage to stay under 10 hours this year. L’E’stiupà for the heat too. Patience … We will both do better in the next … I, as promised, I immediately put on the shuttle that takes you to the now known gym of the Cavallerizza to take a shower before I cool down. I don’t even ask what the water is like so much the answer is obvious.

Indeed it is cold! But … Cold yes, but not freezing. It is of a temperature that, as soon as you go under it makes you pull the usual accident but then you feel good … very well … a pleasant cool that varies in a pleasant thermal sensation. An “I feel good” from which I would not want to get out. In fact, I go back under it another couple of times as soon as a jet is released. But I have to respect those who, like me, have just done 104km (and not 100km) and claim the right and healthy wash. Now, clean and refreshed, I put myself under the care of the Crocerossins that I will never thank enough for their availability and courtesy. It is two in the morning and they, volunteer d.o.c., have been massaging for hours.

It seems to be going well after the race this year but … a flaw comes up. On the parquet of the gym there are only about thirty beds against the hundred of the last years. Athletes rightly claim and there are those who manage. I take a couple of boxes and, bum-style, I am going to lie on my wet bath towel. A volunteer girl with extraordinarily gentle ways gets me a blanket. There is also the bearded and always present Doctor Marano who authorizes us to take a few beds from the massage area, thanks Doc. So I, Lucio and his girlfriend Barbara, who assisted him on the bike from Ronta, we find to rest the tired and tried limbs.

The next morning we go back to the square and we chat with the various well-known names and not with various autographs from Orlando PizzoWhat and other big names. Then I learn two things by talking with Tatiana, the kind and blonde secretary of the organization who the year before kept me for a year a prize won at the Triptych of ceramics, first that after several years they discovered that the boiler of the showers at Cavallerizza is activated by a programmer who switches it off every evening and which this year has finally been bypassed; according to the fact that the misunderstanding of the beds in the rest room is due, if I understand correctly, to the unavailability of camp beds by the Red Cross, which usually supplies a whole number of them but which this year had engaged in other operations. Honestly, I don’t feel like blaming her too much and with her all her volunteers, indeed, we have to thank them from our heart. They who, since the departure of Florence, have committed themselves dozens and dozens with availability and absolute competence. This is demonstrated by all the masseurs, the mobile structures, the doctors and nurses and all the assistants who, at the slightest sign of breath, come around to make sure of your conditions .. it also proves, among the many topics, the table the gym used as a pharmacy where there are always all the pharmaceutical and parapharmaceutical products needed to make up for any eventual problems for runners. Also on display is a defibrillator which, they tell me, they also have in presidia all along the way. In addition to the aforementioned Dr. Marano, who has been phlegmatically present all night to recover from unconscious and collapsed, pierce blisters and soothe cramps and abdominal pains for years, and the volunteers from various sections also thank the masseurs, real firefighters for the poor fiery muscles of the runners. My companions of the GP CAI PISTOIA, Alessandro Balli, Puzio Antonio and Pancani Stefano arrived at the first light of Sunday, they asked me with particular warmth to thank in this article the guys from the Casaglia garrison who “gave us back to the world with that massage otherwise we would finish it in trawls … “. We wait for the latest arrivals, worthy of respect and compliments as and if not more than the first, and then the rites of the awards. The podiums have all Italian names and see Giorgio Calcaterra, at his first victory in this race, while in the female one a trio of delightful young ladies could be summarized in an acronym that will certainly be repeated in the future in other companies. The MPM trio. Monica (Carlin), Paola (Sanna) and Marialuisa (of course Costetti) the stopwatch has lined them up but they are on par in the top step of the podium of smiles.

A beer and everyone home now. Definitely a nice edition and I’m happy with my 50th between marathons and ultra. Now surely I have to fix the foot disaster. The orthopedist will give me anti-inflammatories, ice and absolute rest. Occhei! What a rest it is … up to our Pistoia Abetone!

We are waiting for you and good legs to all!

I hope to redo the Passatore … but yes, go there!

Despite last year I said to myself: “ENOUGH! this other year I won’t do it again! ”
Despite being half broken
Despite having a few extra pounds
In spite of everything … I’ll do the Passatore again this year.
I hope to have a decent time, but it will be very difficult with another year on the back.
I hope to be in front of Lucio De Chigi. Hope already lost for the above reason.
I hope to stay under 10 hours. …Forget it…
I hope it will be a nice hot day to sweat and a warm night to enjoy Piazza del Popolo seeing the fellow runners made and crazy like me arrive.
I hope not to go into crisis again this time with the heat in Borgo San Lorenzo.
I hope my friend Franca Tosi will make her 1st Passatore. That ends it is obvious!
I hope the organization is as good as ever. Good, but to get to the best I hope …
… I hope it will finally disqualify the “smart ones” who get into the car or camper and / or who follow the cars step-by-step by plumping the air with their exhaust gases. … Because I hope that, if I get over 100th position, they won’t let me take a freezing shower like years ago, with the arrogant and rude caretaker (municipal employee and not voluntary) of the gym that has the pitiful excuse that “otherwise you will collapse” . If he said clearly that for various reasons they cannot give at least a lukewarm shower to those who arrive (and have paid) after one o’clock, they would make a better impression. Know the “expert mister” that almost all those who finish the Passatore have dozens of marathons and ultra on their rump, they have always taken a hot shower at the end of a race and nothing frightening has ever happened to them.
I hope to make up for it later by “Dr. Marano Team ”and massage from that crocerossina brunette with courteous and delicate ways, like all of them, that balance the bill with the caretaker.
I hope to go home with the three wine bowls, which means that I have finished it, and another charge of endorphins, a gift of 100 km of running.
I hope to say: ENOUGH! this other year I won’t do it again! ” Good legs and good Passatore at all.

Raffaele Carli’ – 2007