Footrace from the pavement

November 13, 2010 at 3:07 pm (From reality)

So today, November 13, was the ‘Footrace November 15’ competition in Brasov, following the same route that the workers from Brasov took on November 15, 1987 with the occasion of the anti-communist revolt. Since I was a lazy student and didn’t take the trouble to enrol in any sporting activity, I decided to fill my sports attendance paper by participating in this event (the participation in this footrace assured me the exact number of attendances I needed for passing the Sports exam).

All in all, it was a pleasant experience, even though after the first 2 kilometres (out of the whole distance of 5 km) I gave up and alternated running with the simple walk. In the end I had to be satisfied with the 334th position (out of around 550 candidates), which in my humble opinion it’s decent result for an amateur, considering the fact that I was competing against professional athletes. The other surprise was the perfect organisation of this event: the whole traffic has been closed in the entire town during the race, although it took place on a short distance that would have needed the cancellation of only a few buses, there were enough t-shirts for everyone, the police and the ambulances were scattered along the entire route, making sure that everything was going fine, and last but not least the amateurs were treated with the same respect as the professionals.

There was only one thing that pissed me off during the footrace: the people standing like vegetables on the pavement and criticizing the people involved in the race, especially those on the middle and last positions. Some of them swore us; some others called us lazy because we are not as proficient as the professional athletes are (but you know, it’s easy to laugh at the other when you’re nothing but a piece of shit who never took the courage to accept a challenge. Those losers by default are better than you are for the simple reason that, although they never won anything and they never will, they never failed either, which means that they have never felt the sensation of being defeated, which in its turn means that they can pull the leg of those who have felt it).

However, we mustn’t forget that we (unfortunately) still dwell in Romania, a country where ‘one would rather seek for holes in the other’s statue than look at himself to see how little he is, compared to that statue’, to paraphrase Mr. Plesu.


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