The guide is not round in the specialty of mom ... And patience is not included on the list of my virtues, I admitted that I have. "Damn ... Continue run until I tell you!," He says. The rotunda, the holy terror strikes, would take the first possible exit, her. It 's something that goes beyond my understanding: that it is so hard to make possible the very concept of traffic in the roundabout? Yet, it seems elementary to me, obviously I would say, self-evident! But the anger subsided at once: by Gian ... You do not have anything to complain. With all the trouble that has passed, risking even win a single ticket to the abode of Beelzebub, he found the courage to go back to driving school, take your license, get behind the wheel, even the knob, and adapted a car with automatic transmission. Not everyone's cup, in fact. And then, the discussions were not a genius even before.
A heavy fog, sticky, almost rain, hides Pinerolo in the eyes of those who pass along the ring. As for the mountains, which also imposed on our heads, you no news. We are now at the entrance of the Val Chisone. The windscreen wipers are working, not even a soul along the main street of Perosa Argentina. Around here, the air and the colors they already know in winter, come in a day so dreary, at eight o'clock on Saturday morning, the common mortal if they are still holed up in the warmth. Proceed with their feet, even the wheels of lead. A little 'because we're both blind as moles: the four eyes in the cockpit of agility, it would not only healthy one. A little 'because I'm not sure to remember at what point the street is Roure and, in particular, the location Castel del Bosco. It 'beautiful and unusual: my mom always participates with undisguised interest and concern to my raids, by bike or on foot, but has never seen live to any of these adventures, with the exception of the distant Treviso Marathon in 2006. Today the opportunity is ideal: Alpina is a short ride, about ten miles, albeit with a drop of respect in relation to the distance, I should get along, I hope, at the latest in a couple of hours. I do not force you, then, for waiting too long and boring. And then the environment is, or at least imagine it, and collected little noisy. Just a shame that the sky did not invite you to stroll: I hope not to force her to forfeit too cold waiting for my arrival ...
the first houses of Roure, sharp vision, so to speak. Fortunately, the Pro Loco of Roure, Head of the organization, has thought of everything, placing a pretty sign to indicate the path which leads to the sports facilities. A few yards beyond the crossroads and we have: we and other two cars, well in advance of departure time and all the time to record the entry and have a coffee bar at the palace. The volunteers are all already in turmoil, with their fluorescent vests, athletes arrive in dribs and drabs, animating the lawn in front of the building and the bridge over the stream. The reception, more than warm, leaves me embarrassed and surprise: the adventure of Tor des GEANTS has left its mark in my memories, but also a bit 'in the imagination of others who share the same passion with me. I admit, is my pride, but ... I read in the eyes of those who are sincere in front of amazement and admiration for a bell'obiettivo I won with my strength, and a cui io stessa tenevo tantissimo, è qualcosa che riempe di soddisfazione. Ne sono doppiamente contenta perché si sa, i figli so'ppiezz'ecore e mia mamma è quasi più sorpresa e contenta di me...
Ammazziamo l'attesa facendo quattro passi sul ponticello e lungo la sponda del torrente. Qui, più che da noi in pianura, i colori dei boschi parlano di autunno; ogni albero ha ai piedi il suo cerchio di foglie secche; le chiome tendono al rosso, alcune, al giallo intenso, altre. Calcio via una noce ruzzolata sul sentiero, i brividi nella schiena e sulle gambe nude. Ma chi me l'ha fatto fare, di indossare i pantaloni corti?
E' un peccato: la giornata grigia ed umida ha senz'altro giocato a sfavore della manifestazione, che già solo per l'impegno e l'entusiasmo dei suoi creatori meriterebbe ben più dello sparuto gruppetto di una ventina di atleti presenti al via. Pazienza: siamo pochi, ma buoni. La partenza è proprio alla buona, come piace a me: qualche foto di rito, quattro chiacchiere. Si parte: un paio di proiettili schizzano via come se avessero visto comparire all'orizzonte un agente del Fisco; gli altri, meno esagitati, sfilano via in buon ordine. Io resto, manco a dirlo, in fondo: non sopporto le partenze a razzo... E questa corsa non fa eccezione. Con il mio zainetto sulle spalle, immancabile anche per pochi km, attraverso il ponticello e seguo la massa, lungo il sentiero verso destra. Per ora, l'itinerario è in leggera Climb; corricchiare and try to chat with two traveling companions, including the other girl in the race. There is a third, in truth, but the role of a broom, along with a beautiful black Labrador. The trail runs between the river and the forest dense and dripping, up to the hairpin turn onto a dirt road that climbs with much more severe slope, along a rock wall. Here it is already pulling the oars. The fund is easy, but the slope does not grant mercy. I strive to keep pace at least decent: what the heck, there are ten km ... I have to do, to force a bit ', at least over a distance so short! Or at least try it: if I were to burst, amen, not employ still four hours to return to the palace. Yeah, easy to say, much less a reality. My little heart reacts indignantly to injury: not only picks up the gauntlet, but it seems, out of revenge, wanting to slow down even more than it already is quiet by nature. I have a bell'inspirare lungs out: it is as if my chest would not enter anything. Even the few rivals from which I had gained a paltry posting are coming. The road is treacherous, I force myself to run the lines less steep, but all that cost me a superhuman effort. By Gian, two hours of suffering, the worst ...
now shooting straight, eyes lowered and furious pace, it is only thanks to a careful voluntary, do not start off on a tangent. We must leave the road and climb down the path on the left. I was just wondering where he had gone to finish the level difference: seven hundred, eight hundred feet, so I heard. Here it is, right in front of my nose, a steep and bumpy track in the middle of the green, slimy mud and wet stones. You go up, without appeal. Behind me, one of two pairs of fathers and offspring: there are, in the race, two boys around ten years. And to say that I seem to get really good, here ... The two devils I jump on his back in a blink of an eye. I must admit, as always, my inferiority and give way, in a fit of pride, however, to experience at least m'impongo a star after them. We can, in fact, on the distance: the ascent, though not a single ramp with a thousand meters, it is constantly challenging and steep, and my favorite medium. It runs between the logs and a picturesque haze that blurs the outlines of the plants. Puffing like a bellows, hook me to the train that goes before me, without thinking even for a moment groped overtaking. Perhaps, at some point, the EC could do, but I would come off with shame and riacchiappata the first section of flat or slightly downhill. A man in a reflective jacket came out of nowhere: "From the climb is almost done." I have to question: OK, I do not think the human as an altimeter to be much, but it really does seem that seven hundred feet below the soles we have not yet crushed. In fact, the rise is still long and challenging. Exchange a few words with my two locomotives. Soon, we reach the other pair of father and heir. Here, who knows me knows that I have no particular sympathy for the children, not to say that just do not like them, in this case, however, I must make an exception. These two kids are way, tasks and remarkably mature for their age. Especially admirable is that their parents have taught them well. The mountain tempers the body, and soul!
In the thicket, we continue to go up without being able to see anything around us, either by the tangled vegetation, both for the clouds heavy that surround us. These two little devils make me spit out the blood, probably, if they wished, they could also planted here. A good lesson and a blow to pride. "Memento mori," or, more simply, tirartela not see much, then it ends with hammers on the ears, Gian. Fact: as soon as the climb mentions a truce, my four fellow passengers flew away. I, too, to be honest: I am ready to launch in pursuit, the sole support on a smooth boulder, wet and at an angle and end up upside down without even noticing the time. I land heavily on the right buttock, which fortunately is well padded, as is the sister company. I get up, humiliated and ashamed: for Fortunately, the two volunteers a few meters from me appear not to have seen anything, thanks to the fog. They offer me a glass of hot tea: and with that, goodbye to the little that still remained bellicose intentions. I taste with a quiet tea, then start driving again, cautiously. Slightly downhill, through mud and dripping branches, then climb again, sometimes dry and nasty. Fugitives, no trace. If I remember correctly, the rise in area ends Roche de Maurel. As long as you go on, I promise as I can, cursing the lack of sticks, mind if tomorrow, the Trail of the Three Towns, the legs will protest with pride. It's best that I move, otherwise you will not ever find out what the mysterious "gofri ... Any dish may be, will not more for me!
The first part of the descent is steep and bumpy, among a handful of stone houses. A volunteer recommended caution, slips on a wet rock. Quiet, I've got built-in caution ... I get down with the agility of a rhino in the digestion phase, each step preceded by a thorough feasibility study. Maremma, it is all so, Roure I come back tomorrow morning ... Fortunately, no: the path is to merge into a dirt road slightly downhill from the air comfortable. It runs. Or, you could run if it were not for that pain in the chest, right. Ache now that I know well and who, after a few steps, it becomes a thick violent to take off my breath. I stopped, bent in two, squeeze with two fingers just below the ribs, I take a walk, forzanzo a bit ', but there's no way, the pain is acute. I pause, resume, I stop again, I can hardly breathe. The dense radiating to the right leg. Good grief, and that at least here I could make up a few minutes ... Besides, I should imagine it is a kind of crisis that torments me every time, at the start, I exaggerate, shooting too much for my little room without having given to my old diesel engine is enough time to reach working temperature.
I walk like this, with continuous support, at least a couple of kilometers down this road on the coil. There are signs: in fact, the race would have to walk the steep path that cuts through the bends of the road and goes down for the live, today, however, given the conditions of weather and muddy bottom, the leaders decided, and we recommended before the start, to choose the longer but safer route. Prey to doubt, in addition to pain, to soothe me when I meet only two other volunteers: "It 's right here, quiet." Almost at the same time, the thick, sudden as it came, he leaves. I resume running, first cautiously, then a good pace, especially when the track leaves the road and take a path on the left. Long and slightly uphill stretch in the middle falsopiano the forest, with the voices of the valley could already be observed. I do not even know why, but I'm having fun as hell to run along this narrow path among the trees and the few flowers still bloomed; incredible dictu, I can not even fall. Taking large strides and I would like this magic moment almost never end: little by little, however, the mist and the woods thin out, here is the bridge in the distance. A short section of the plane ride: Mom is waiting patiently at one end of the bridge. "See, I told you? - The greeting - I last ...". In fact, it is. The first of the men, a lanky young man with glasses and an engineer, took just over an hour, the first woman, who would then be the girl with whom I attacked the top button of the race, I arrived half an hour before me. And the two youths shoots I have trimmed a good twenty minutes! But yes, let us take it easy ... One hour and fifty, a little more. A pack-donkey will never become a race horse, and can not be bled from a turnip. We enter the crowded building, first a nice hot cappuccino, and then ... As my usual, I would leave immediately; fry to sit here waiting. Then, by dint of scrutinizing the many jaws in motion, I draw myself to the long table next to which teems with a group of very busy volunteers: this is the famous gofri ... Paid a batter on a baking pan metal, with both sides closed there in the middle as a kind of pliers and turn several times in a tall, from which rises the warmth of the embers. The result is a kind of pastry, light, circular in shape, which is then divided in half and filled with pleasure: ham, cheese, Nutella. Gorgonzola, for me, fantastic ... To dispose of all those calories, as a minimum I would run two more laps! Another great reason to come here in the valley next year, hoping that it is unreasonable to shift the voice of the race in the summer: The summer calendar is already overcrowded.
The beautiful morning ends with a nice symbolic ceremony, with competitors called one by one in order of time of arrival. And 'natural that my last name resound ... But, again, who holds the microphone knows which key to press to get me to do the wheel of the peacock. The reference to the Tor and a round of applause to me, in my megalomania, seems a bit 'harder than the other ...
Mom and I leave the building: on the lawn, linked to the metal fence, is the beautiful black Lab who faithfully accompanied the broom. Beautiful, majestic, proud to bring to the neck, too, his well-deserved medal!
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