Race Report: Cittadella Half Marathon
What? 14th Maratonina della Citta Murata
Where? Cittadella, Padua, Italy
When? 15th December 2019
Distance: 21.097 km
Goal: sub 1h15m
Achieved? Yes!
Website: https://www.maratoneticittadellesi.it/14a-maratonina-citta-murata/
Strava activity: https://www.strava.com/activities/2934048916
On a dark, bracingly cold December morning, I waited in a deserted car park, by an abandoned carnival carousel ride in Padua. It was 7:30 am. My contact, and lift to the race, was someone I had never met before; an athlete I follow on Strava.
I ran through some positive visualisations for the race. It’s something I’d done a few times already during the week, but as I waited for the internet stranger to pick me up, I added an extra step to the visualisation: don’t get murdered.
Just then, headlights swung into the car park. A car pulled up and idled, I peered into the lights and made out a hand waving through the windshield. I opened the passenger door and greeted my contact who cheerily said “Hi! Thanks for trusting me!”
Phew, not a murderer. With that, we sped off to Cittadella, and I was glad to be alive.
On arrival, I picked up my race bag, which was hands down the most lavish I’ve seen. A few weeks ago someone told me, “you can eat for a week from this race pack,” and it’s no exaggeration.
There are at least 6 meals worth of pasta and gnocchi in there, plus some HOKA socks and a bewilderingly wide range of supplements, vitamins, lotions, detergents, and other paraphernalia slash guff.
The long-sleeved, pristine white race top is beautifully designed, with minimal sponsor logos.
I shed my outer layers of clothing — coat, jeans, etc. — leaving just my race-wear beneath, and quickly noticed that ..it was cold. Much colder than any other race I’ve run.
I was kindly offered some Deep Heat gel to keep my legs warm but declined as I don’t like trying new things on race days.
This is due to a 6-degrees-of-separation-esque catastrophe-related free-association game that plays in my head on race days.
In this case, it went something like this:
Deep Heat on legs ➡ ️could run past an open flame? ➡ Deep Heat flammable question mark exclamation mark?! ➡ legs on fire.
…Or, you know, could’ve been itchy or something.
Anyway, I told myself, “nothing new on race day,” so I was cold for a bit.
Time was slipping by and I grabbed an espresso just inside the town gate. I had very little time to warm up but just contented myself with a few stretches and a minute of jogging with some strides.
Cittadella, by the way, is a gorgeous little mediaeval walled city, so small that it looks like a scale model of itself.
I made my way to the corral and was about 8 rows back from the front. It was 15 minutes until the gun, and the corral was packed. This really took the edge off the cold, but it was quite difficult to move even a little to stretch.
I was fidgety with nervous energy. I have never strung together even 10 x 3:33min/km so I really didn’t know what my body would do if I tried to run 21 in a row. But I was excited to find out.
This time, my playlist included the pre-race mood setter of Sleeping Lessons by The Shins, which seems a slow burner but has one of the best builds and greatest drops, when the band bursts and shimmers in at 2:25.
Km 1
It was on this explosive note that the race started. My coach told me to run the first kilometre at 3:20 and then drop to 3:30–3:35 for the rest of the race.
Unfortunately, this proved tricky, as just after the starting line there’s a severe bottleneck as we exit the gates of the walled city. The narrow gate and bridge is strategically useful in mediaeval battle, yes, but not so handy for a foot race.
Runners of all different paces were crammed together; some trying to get past, some dropping back, in a crush of athletes about 6 or 7 wide with no real space in front for a while. I looked at my watch, 4:00/km, far from ideal.
Amid the confusion, an athlete behind me kicked my left foot into my right leg and I nearly tripped. Then he shouted in a flurry of Veneto invective. He wanted me to “keep to the rhythm” but with athletes ahead suddenly halting, dropping back, shifting from side to side, and feet and elbows flying everywhere, the ‘rhythm’ was indecipherable and disparate: ten post-jazz records playing simultaneously.
After 200m or so, we left the city behind us and the roads widened. I practically sprinted for a while to get my average pace to 3:33/km and then kept an eye on this for the remainder of the race.
Km 2–16
There were quite a few groups of athletes forming, of 3 or 4 in a pack. I joined a couple but found them either too fast or too slow. I saw one athlete running my pace and we ran together for a couple of km, but then he started flagging and I had to stay on pace, leaving him behind.
Outside the walls of the city, we found concrete and tarmac country roads that crumble off on the edges. Flat fields on either side, lots of 90-degree turns. Little groups of 3 or 4 spectators looking more puzzled than anything.
And the mountains. The morning light made them salmon pink, and at first glance, they dominated the landscape, like when the moon gets close to the horizon and goes all big.
But then, honestly, the scenery can be summed up like so: field, house, car, turn. The odd dog occasionally.
I felt energetic and confident for the first 16k, the latter of which I spent sharing drafting duties with a fellow athlete at my pace.
Km 17–21
After a little while drafting, my running mate waved me ahead and I went, sticking at more or less the same pace. He dropped back a little and I decided with only a few km to go I would push harder.
I tried to go into the 3:20’s but felt a stitch developing on my left side and started to feel quite nauseous. My throat tensed up. My legs were moving well, but it felt like my lungs were letting me down. I slowed a little to 3:33 and the stitch went away.
I repeated this cycle of pushing, stitching, nausea, and slowing a few times and decided just to stick at my goal pace. This race was a challenge, but thanks to solid preparation and fuelling well with energy gels, there wasn’t much pain.
A key track on the playlist was Born Slippy from the Trainspotting soundtrack. It has such a great mix of chilled, easy synths and a pounding techno beat that really fuses nicely with the sense of relaxed determination you need for a challenging run.
After more than forty sharp turns in the countryside, the city walls suddenly came into view. I was running alone at this point.
Have you ever been to a haunted house where the final door leads into a packed bar, so that every few minutes someone comes screaming through the door and suddenly realise they’re back in reality?
This is how I felt coming into the city.
I turned a blind corner and there were two photographers hidden there, crouching to take a photo. I was not ready for the photo. In fact, I’d been running out in the nothingness, alone, for so long that I had forgotten anyone else could see me, or what I was doing, or why.
Then there was a very short final stretch with great support from the locals, and then suddenly the race was over.
I crossed the line in 1:14:51– just 9 seconds under my target. It was such a surreal feeling because I’d had to convince myself I could do it, but deep down I was completely prepared for failure.
A steward took my timing chip and I was given a race towel to wrap over my shoulders. This is so much better than the usual bin liner you get at the finish line, and it’s something you can take away and use at the gym.
Luckily the conditions were ideal (no ice, little wind, no rain) and I was helped along by a few athletes on the way.
Post Race
After the euphoria had worn off, I felt quite nauseous and couldn’t eat — probably due to ingesting 5 gels in 2 hours, plus a post-race recovery drink.
I did plenty of stretching and foam rolling, and got a sports massage a few days later, having learned my lesson from the Venice Marathon. I’ve thankfully been able to continue training without any discomfort or niggles.
As always, I felt very well prepared for this race thanks to my coach Giovanni Schiavo. In 8 months, he has raised the bar so much for my running and I’m so grateful to him for his time and dedication.
I managed to qualify for a Championship place in the London Marathon: an absolute dream! Now I’m in the process of joining a UK athletics club, and will hopefully get my application off and registered well before the deadline of January 17th.
Overall, I would recommend the Cittadella Half. It was well organised and the race pack, medal, towel, etc. were all high quality and good value.
The course itself is not the most scenic, but the route was always clear with stewards or indications on every turn, which is important for me as I don’t like having to concentrate on navigation during a race.
The course was flat but there were a lot of sharp turns, and the roads tended to crumble at the edges making for some difficult footing.
The race has good PB potential if you get out early and avoid the bottleneck at the start. I was warned that the corners would be icy, but this year the organisers salted the course well so that wasn’t an issue.
The city itself is gorgeous and of course, I love this part of the world, so it’s well worth a visit if you are planning some running tourism.
