Last May the Road Runner Sports Society, with the presence of Abel Anton, presented the thirty-first edition of the Marathon Popular de Valencia that was to celebrate the 20 February, two thousand eleven. It was no surprise because the thirty editions were held in February and almost always the third Sunday. From that moment registration opened and began to visit various fairs trying to get runners in an effort to get the Valencia Marathon census increases and thereby increase its prestige and popularity.
Last September the Runner Sports Society, with the presence of Abel Anton, summoned the press to report that the thirty-first edition of the Marathon Popular de Valencia was not going to be held in February but in November the following year because, after thirty years and a half, had just realize that November was a much better month, where it went. In February he had to fight with Sevilla, Barcelona and Madrid in November while San Sebastián is only so in order to attract more runners, November without hesitation. And they were so wide.
What really happened? The city of Valencia, in the person of Councillor for Sports, Christopher Grau (from I'll have to start saying allegedly continuously and presumed I was not going to crack) had committed himself alleged to sponsor the Marathon Runner and get more sponsors. Come September there is a hard (or alleged not to brag) in the coffers and sponsors suspects there are one or none. The alleged Grau quoted Runner and says that the marathon is passed in November. Runner answers, presumably, that it is impossible and not only by tradition (say New York to Berlin and they're going to change the date), but because there are people registered, mostly foreigners with hotel and flight booked, apart from the entire organization is already underway. The alleged Grau, making use of its capacity for dialogue, he said then, presumably, that these my integuments, that November or November, the lentils are like and not like two stones. And as the one who pays as Abel Anton on stage to try to sweeten the wheel that we had to swallow.
On February 20, it was held a marathon. It was the thirty-first popular but the first Clandestino Marathon. Organized (or rather, not organized) by Pepo, a former manager of Road Runner, three hundred and fifty runners stayed and we went for a walk. The distance was not important, as the competition. No banners, no yelling, went out and ran. What do we get? I do not know. Nothing, I guess. There were four cats, we have had no impact on the river we gray out completely, nothing will change. In the end no longer the right to complain, self-satisfaction of giving vent to some disagreement, a certain defiance. The marathon will be in November and will run. Vote and know who are not going to vote but we are not brokers a lobbyist can topple governments (fortunately, on the other hand). We keep the good time we spent together with many friends, some riders, others have moved to high. And with the satisfaction of knowing that, if laugh in our face, if we prick, still bleed. Yet.
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