Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Icbc Motorcycle License

Playlists


"Honey, the Carpi Marathon take me away I thought of the ipod. I never used in race, but you know, in case of emergency, you never know. I lend it to us load up a bit 'of bad music? "
" Just do not take me off my Anna Oxa, Mia Martini, Gianna Nannini ... "
" Traaaaaaaanquilla, I have everything under control , riding iTunes now closed! "
Needless to say, the first synchronization of the contraption, I had inadvertently planed the entire discography of the Venerable Consort.
Restore all with a providential backup and began to fish between AC / DC, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Eminem, Guns' n Roses ... the more evil the better, I need music capable of kicking ass from the 30 km mark on, were to serve me.
The Crown Prince to listen to my side and coordinates the selection of playlists: on "Immigrant Song" by Led Zeppelin but lights:
"But is that Snow White sings in Shrek 2!"
Gourmet!

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Remington Model 870 Modular Combat System

Ouch! Trail of the First


The Trail of Baldo left me a wonderful memory, the desire to repeat the experience of racing in the mountains e. .. a painful injury to his left wrist, when spatasciarmi against rocks with all my weight seemed to be sweet then and there a great idea.
Mano inutilizzabile, pollice che non fa la minima presa, pulsazioni pungenti quando corro: sospetto che dovrò vincere la mia ritrosia e andare a farmi una lastra per vedere cosa ho combinato.
Se non guarisco per tempo sfuma la mia ipotesi di arrivare a Carpi carponi , mi toccherà correre fino al traguardo: carpe diem!
Per fortuna per i miei onanismi mentali l'uso della mano non è richiesta; per quelli non mentali, tranquilli, sono ambidestro!

Monday, September 20, 2010

Shark Evoline Bluetooth

Baldo


Sotto la doccia calda, in un connubio variegato, scivolano via fango, sudore e stanchezza, lasciando visibili sulla pelle i ricordi di questo mio primo trail: due stinchi graffiati, la parte sinistra del corpo maculata da vari ematomi (ginocchio, gluteo, avambraccio), il polso sinistro gonfio e dolorante...eppure non riesco ancora a togliermi il sorriso dalla bocca.

Ho vissuto una splendida giornata, in scenari da favola che (mea culpa!) non conoscevo, assaggiando scampoli di corsa in montagna in questo mio primo esperimento: già, un esperimento, perché la prima cosa che ho imparato domenica è che trailer non ci si improvvisa, per quanti chilometri tu possa aver macinato sull'asfalto, i primi metri che provi a correre (correre? Su dai, parliamo di camminata svelta!) sulla roccia ti restituiscono l'immagine of a child after a long crawl takes courage and timidly starts to take its first uncertain steps.
A whole other world, a wonderful, another world.

The cable car deposited us at an altitude of 1756m Malcesine and 3 ° C Temperature: last briefing by our guide Alexander usual photos of these 28 pioneers and then finally we leave, the direction of Pozzette Peak (2132m).
The storms of the last three days have left the memory on the slippery rocks, but we were graced by giving a clear day and sunny, as I go up in the stopover a few times to gradually take away the clothes that I was protected from the biting wind, enjoying a view that describe in words is very simplistic to the right lies the vastness of Lake Garda, in all its glory from the tip of Sirmione until the spire of Riva, on my left side of the mountains and the Group of Lessinia Carega ... hard not to be touched!
Proceeding on the crest, alternating ascents to do often with the help of hands, a treacherous downhill between mountain pines whose branches fragrant resinous save us more than once by fall over.
I have no idea what time it is, completely ignoring my rhythm, I left home the Garmin and enjoy the environment without any hassle lap.
Moreover we can not say that I'm running, the roughness of the path I inhibit any ambitions and travel in the only flat I can also stretch slightly in the enterprise to make the most ruinous fall of the race just before the race to lift the right foot slips slightly and crashed into a rock, tipping the scales and making me completely collapse in lion's skin on rocks.
only element to cushion the violent blow my poor left wrist aching from that point and unusable, battered, wounded more physically and honor, I resume the advance stoically: to remain within the 2000-odd, reaching rapidly ( well, quick, well ...) Cima Valdritta succession, Point Harness, Punta Telegraph.
began the descent, including pasture breeding ground for the marmot burrows (Potholes that resemble the rabbit hole) and silent woods; malsegnalato to a fork (or, if not fully reported there was the usual idiot to remove the signs) blatantly wrong way (I'm not the only one!) By increasing the path a bit 'before I realized the error, losing about twenty minutes and abandon my ambition to always be on the podium (forgetting that this time the winners are already on the couch with a cold beer in hand listening to the games on TV ...).
In a pasture where the foals trot freely, guide us about the last diversion, saying that now is missing a half-hour arrival: only now do I find a medium that allows to give birth to my imbranataggine something that looks like a race and so the photographer can also arrive to give the impression that wearing the bib number 1 is really a runner.

I wanted to try a bit of trail running and your emotions make me understand that it will not be my last experience: I have taken the first, timid steps uncertain, realizing that I have so much to learn in this new discipline for me, but running in nature in the mountains gave me something that I can not wait to taste again.
's still bitter, half fledgling, barely stands for the first time on the legs, but I'd say was born a trailer!

A trail should be told first of all with the photos, I hope to bridge that gap soon, for now I give space to the words.