Am I Husky, I am king.

Running in the cold is no fun - but minus a few degrees can be super athlete Achim does not stop. Our miracle runner going into the cold hell and finds himself suddenly in the midst of a fierce battle for the best seats.

 

Mona is a chilblain. It has a living room into a sauna club transforms. With our quantity of heat could be an entire settlement panel in Ukraine heat. Ick freu ma uff heating payroll levy special. But if I had two pairs of new shoes get.

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Siberian Husky in the woods: No problems with cold winter runs

"I go tomorrow Winter Series run," I announce to Saturday evening. Mona astonished and silent. Neither does my wonderful wife rare. Finally she holds for me once again a hero. Elegant verschweige I know that my series one remains. Ten, 15 and 21 kilometers from FSIO be 92 in January,. Mir, the 15 kilometers. "You'll freeze," says Mona. Especially sad she is not enough. But my biggest rival, the life insurance policy, must still wait. For I will return from the cold hell. Am I Husky, I am king.

As a hardcore Schwitzer Frost is quite pleasant. I like the soft sound of frozen drops of sweat on the hair tips. Wind chimes of the runner. The problem with winter runs: The starting field is a cucumber-free zone, virtually no wellness Trotter, which sometimes half a kilometer march and the rear third of the results list colonize. No Bussi Bussi, no catering stalls, nothing menschlich warm here. Only performance bones that predict a loose hour warm.

Crap. I never wanted to win a race, but will never last. I fahnde after women and the elderly among the more than one hundred mummies at the start. Unfortunately you can not eingepackten bellies sex assign the men even less. Minus six degrees transform even the most pride in a clash men cocktail sausage. A variety of social justice.

WWW.ACHIM-ACHILLES.DE

For four years, he writes his columns, is now a cult runner Achim Achilles online - with its site-www.Achim Achilles.de. The portal provides the millions of runners in this info, tips and fun - for beginners as professionals run. The vibrant community of runners exchanged last wisdom from a half-dozen expert advice free of charge. Always according to the motto of the best-selling author Achilles: "Running, suffer, laugh, live."

Countdown. I am sentimental, because I think that ten seconds for memorial René Herms would spendieren them? The 800-Meter Champ was on Saturday
found dead in his apartment has been found, shortly after training. Perhaps a heart muscle inflammation abducted following a cold, a warning to moderate Heißsporne old who lives with her boring kilometers run at any price around.

Dear Run slowly. Breathe through the nose, say the experts cold. Would I like. But my nostrils are too small. Not enough air through. So it through the mouth. Geeiste almonds. Now to the psychological part. For each competition, I set three goals, at least one of which is within easy reach. To win it, even if one is Vorletzter.

Objective One: Not on the nose, or otherwise infringe on the verschnei (s) ten two-kilometer circuit. Objective Two: Arrive. Objective Three: Constant movement like a Westphalian ambitious five minutes per kilometer. At the end of a delicate Sprint - target time be exactly 1 hours 14 minutes and 59 seconds.

ACHILLES 'SHOP

New: 2009 race calendar
Audiobook: The Walker-hater manifesto
Classics: The race adviser
Standard work: Verses

The biggest mental challenge is all the humpelnden, deformed character and countless Gnome to ignore that I am already on the first pick kilometers. Probably I am now last. No matter. I still can not turn me around. In Round Two overtaken me the first Blödmannsgehilfe. Terrible, these young chen idiots who are nothing more than walking in mind.

Before me is a wine red, but he does not want to come closer. On the final round, he is on it. A blast Red, a black and yellow overtake me. 50 meters in front of me unite it with the red wine. Why do these people humiliate me. The blast Red Red Wine wants to overtake. But the red wine attracts. The blast Red shrugs his shoulders and left rear. The Yellow and Black to watch. On the penultimate lap, the three Red Wine weichgekocht and pull away. Even 20 meters, then I have the red wine, too. I federe through the snow. But he sees my shadow, my wheezing sounds. He picks up. I am not a skirmish on one. He falls back from alone. I pull over. He's been behind. It's the little victories that you love to learn. Now tempo tighten around the Yellow and Black to pick. Unfortunately, the two have the same plan. The small, thick, black is ugly from the Yellow until shortly before the finishing move, then he runs to her. Great performance.

The goal: A look at the clock. Cursed! 27 seconds on target time. No matter. Objective achieved one o'clock-two o'clock, and also the red wine made cold.

On the journey home after the first full spasm in the left leg. Mona, I'm still alive.