100 KM OF THE PASSATORE MAY 26, 2012
Dal racconto dell’Orco Camola
Telling the experience of the Passatore is a bit complicated, you risk saying the usual things.
After all, in a race the things you experience are always more or less the same: you get there, you run, you struggle, you come back and you start again. For the Passatore the same mechanisms apply but … it will be the mileage, the places, the variety of the athletes’ backgrounds, I would say that the Passatore is special.
We run on asphalt and go to the mountains, we start from one of the most beautiful cities in the world invaded by tourists and then run for hours on unlit roads, we start in Tuscany and arrive in Emilia. If to all this we add the participation of two splendid orcs in their forties such as myself and the ogre Marcello, well then the event becomes truly cosmic.
2012 is the 40th edition. With us, our friend Nicola, he gave himself the race for his forty years.
At the bib withdrawal, the usual speeches are heard which, I am increasingly convinced, hide the existential unease of the ultramarathon runner.
“In the heat I go wrong”,
“With the cold I freeze”,
“I do it but I’m not trained”,
“Eh but you’re young and you’re fine”,
“Eh but I’m old and I’m sick”,
“I have knee pain, yet this month I only did 15 marathons”,
“I have internal points but I run the same”,
“Two days ago I was running in the Sahara, today I am here, on Sunday I will go …”,
“Calcaterra is really strong”,
“Calcaterra is strong and he is also nice”,
“Calcaterra takes drugs” and so on up to the inevitable: “I never train”.
In certain moments I have the clear feeling that sport is good for the body but is harmful to the psyche.
We all need to communicate how good we are. We do it clumsily by hiding behind false modesty or by telling about health problems that would make Dr. House shiver.
I communicate my existential unease by wearing the shirt from the 100 km of Mont Blanc (CCC 2009). I attract attention enough, I make a good impression and the time of the tail for the bib collection passes quickly. The dialectal inflections of all Italy are felt and my origin is immediately discovered: “You are from Turin neh!”.
Getting around Florence is fun, wherever there are runners lying down. Finally we go. 2200 subscribers. Incredible for a 100 km. Two seconds before the shot I turn and meet Livio who tells us that Michele and Maria are in the crowd. How nice to finally travel.
I Marcello run the first 50 km together then we get lost. The hills of Fiesole are beautiful and the cheering of Borgo San Lorenzo is magnificent. During the daytime I take some photos otherwise the President (PinoR) excommunicates me. I speak to many people and meet the legendary Pavan.
The climb to Colla di Casaglia is long and tiring and we arrive there at twenty and forty. I change, I eat, and in the general chaos I lose Marcello. Meanwhile Livio arrives assisted by the family with the camper.
I dress well and calmly I begin to go down the hill to face the second part of race.
These are the most beautiful hours, it is not yet night and the road passes through isolated meadows and woods. Livio reaches me and a little further we meet Michele. We travel for about twenty km together and talk all the time.
We are joined by other people intrigued by the stories of Livio and Michele. From km 70 until the finish we get lost and find ourselves a few times. It seems impossible but we are still running.
The road is dark and the flashing lights of the support cars bother me a lot. At km 85 I have a pain in my left knee, nothing important but I do some stratching at the refreshment points. From km 95 each kilometer is marked as a countdown timer. I walk a bit because I want to run the last one. It is late at night and what I feel is not a cramp but a lump in my throat. We hug, take a picture on the podium and go to rest. The people of the organization are attentive and considerate and just what I need. Thank you.
Andrea Camoletto
