Tag Archives: running

The Color Run takes Dubai by storm

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I’ll admit that as I stood in line at Adventure HQ on Friday, queuing for my racepack, I had second thoughts: I had a fluey cold, I’ve been working too much and my friend who persuaded me to do a 5K race last year had gone on holiday.

DH was also leaving that night, which meant there’d be no one to force me out of bed and into my running shoes, to attend a race by myself.

Then he said those fateful words: “You won’t do it.”

Whether he just wanted to spur me into action, I don’t know. But it worked. “What makes you think that?” I retorted, replacing the negative thoughts with images of an athletic me (haha!) bounding round Dubai’s Autodrome on a sunny morning. “Of course I’m going to do it! [I said indignantly].

Turns out, I needn’t have worried. The Color Run, an American phenomenon that’s gaining worldwide popularity, isn’t a race at all. It wasn’t timed, most people walked, you could cut huge corners (shaving off at least half a kilometre), and, best of all, it actually lived up to its moniker as the happiest 5K on the planet.

As more than 8,500 people made their way round the racetrack at Motor City, the venue literally exploded into a puff of colour. Runners started in white t-shirts, and at each kilometre were caked in brightly coloured powders (made from natural food-grade corn starch) thrown by volunteers.

The 5K with a twist turned Dubai's Autodrome into a kaleidoscope of colour on Saturday morning

The 5K with a twist turned Dubai’s Autodrome into a kaleidoscope of colour on Saturday morning

The atmosphere was uplifting and, needless to say, the finish line was one big party, with music blaring, colour throws, dancing and entertainers. It was also remarkably well organised, even down to the plastic kagool included in the racepack so you could drive home without smudging powder all over the seat.

Before the big clean-up, I nipped into our local shop for some essentials and got chatting to the store manager. He eyed my splattered clothes and wild hair style straight out of the good old punk days, and – in a nod to the way the UAE respects all kinds of beliefs – asked: “Have you been celebrating something? Must have been quite a celebration!” he commended.

It was – of health, happiness and getting active. Well done Daman’s Activelife, for making 8,500 people smile from ear-to-ear while exercising and for bringing more colour to the desert than I’ve ever seen.

Colour throws at the finish line party

Colour throws at the finish line party

On trying to keep fit on a 6-week holiday

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If you’ve been following this blog, you’ll know that I do – sort of – go to the gym. I’ve been plugging away for a year or so now, although recently, I’ve discovered I can prop my kindle on the treadmill to snatch some reading time while strolling (briskly).

Whenever I come to England, I always imagine myself running outdoors instead – and, again, I do mean ‘running’ in the loosest sense of the word. My parents live a stone’s throw away from the local park, and gently jogging a lap or two around the cricket pitch, under the ever-changing sky with birds chirruping and dogs chasing sticks, sounds like the perfect antidote to the sterile gym.

Except it was too hot. Even at 7pm. My runs turned into a sweaty limp, with me practically staggering past gangs of scantily clad teenagers drinking alcopops and frisky lovers mauling each other in full view, hoping no one would laugh at my excuse of a jog or hear me panting.

Parklife in the UK, I remembered, is dotted with scenes and characters you just never see in the UAE. “Smile love – might never happen,” quipped a Heineken-drinking, paper-bag carrying fella the other day.

All this I actually find really fascinating – and the scenery IS nice – but then my mum told me that the leisure centre had been revamped and the new gym was now very state-of-the-art.

I took a look. I was seriously impressed. There were brand-new machines and contraptions I could only imagine were used to train astronauts, rows of bikes, and treadmills with large, multi-media screens (plus the all-important ledge for my kindle). The Olympic legacy was alive and well – with air conditioning and Costa Coffee next door!

So, now I have a four-week summer membership and I’m back exercising in the gym, keeping an eye on the calorie-count so I can whoop with joy when I’ve burnt off an apple.

xxxxx

Overlooking the park, It’s spacious, state-of-the-art – and, above all, air-conditioned!

Why I should NOT be running the 5K

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A month ago, I signed up for a local 5K race. It sounded quite fun – a friend is doing it, you run along Dubai’s Palm with the sea on one side, and I imagined that with all the training I’d do beforehand, it surely couldn’t be that hard?

I mean, it’s not exactly a marathon, is it? And it’s at 7am in the morning so not too hot. There’d be a nice sea breeze, perhaps some seagulls circling and I’d get carried along by the atmosphere, I thought to myself.

I told all my friends, I tweeted about it, and left myself with little choice but to register.

“You’ll be fine! You could even wear your bikini and go for a dip in the sea afterwards,” someone VERY kindly tweeted back. “It’ll all be over in half an hour,” she added, optimistically.

5 kilometres by the sea at 7am – I won’t be wishing I was still in bed, noooo

With a goal to aim towards, I’d even be motivated to spend hours pounding away on the treadmill and, on the day, I’d be home in time for a slap-up breakfast, I decided!

The race is on the 9th November – or in other words, in two weeks’ time, and, I’m sure you won’t be surprised to hear that, despite the purchase of some brightly coloured Reebok gym wear, the training schedule I’d imagined hasn’t exactly worked out.

I’ve never done anything like this before (read: I am not a runner. It would take my legs suddenly sprouting another six inches and my shins becoming a little less knock-kneed to turn me into one). I’ve been going to the gym (three times a week), but not exactly putting in the required intensity – then, last week, I didn’t go at all due to work.

Also worrying me is the fact my mother-in-law is coming along – not to watch, but to take part. A fit, petite and very slim lady, she may well be faster than me. And look less like she’s been on the receiving end of the Heimlich manoeuvre.

But, perhaps my biggest concern is something a good friend, who’s been pootling off on 35K bike rides recently, pointed out: the fact that running outdoors is quite different from jogging on the treadmill in a climate-controlled gym.

So this week, I’ve been trying to imagine my legs slamming into concrete instead of the soft, conveyor belt. I’ve thought about the jarring effect reverberating through my body, the sun on my back, and wondered if my knees know what they’re in for.

I’m determined to give it a go, though, and now it’s so much cooler in the evenings, I’m planning on doing a few outside jogs before the big day.

Even if I walk some of it, it really doesn’t matter. I’ll get there in the end. Just not in my bikini.