Stramilano, a race to remember, my father was the champion 50 years ago
Constanza Mora Pedraza with her Stramilano medal after running a personal best in a race her father won 50 years ago. (Photo by Constanza Mora Pedraza)
VIGEVANO, March 27, 2025 - I must admit that I've thought a lot about how to start this article, although I'm a journalist and writing comes easily to me, this time, when I have so many feelings and so many beautiful memories in my heart, it's difficult.
But anyway, here we go. It all started in early March 2025 when I arrived in Italy. On the first day back at the office, I told Gianni Merlo, the president of the International Sports Press Association, and my boss, that I wanted to register to run the Stramilano - well, in this case, the Stramilanina, since I only wanted to run the 5K. For many years, I've participated in recreational distances in the road races in Colombia, and the thought of being able to run in Milan seemed very pleasant. However, this race had something else, something more important and more special to me.
Gianni, upon learning the importance of this race, made a phone call, and in less than five minutes told me: "You have to go to Milan to pick up your race number." I was amazed at how quickly everything happened. Although it's true that in Colombia I get my registration thanks to the Correcaminos organization, Héctor Palau, and Jorge Lozano, I never imagined it would be the same in Italy, but it was.
March 16th arrived, the start of the fair, and I traveled from Vigevano to Milan. I had already received instructions from Gianni to go to Piazza Duomo - where the tent was set up - and to ask for Mr. Michele Mesto. To be completely honest, at that moment I had no idea who Mr. Mesto was; I thought it was someone they had assigned to help me and give me my race number. I arrived in Milan, and as if it were the first time, upon exiting the metro station, I couldn't contain my amazement at the sight of the imposing Metropolitan Cathedral of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, better known as the Duomo di Milano.
I found the tent prominently located on one side of the square, and although I had no idea who to ask about Mr. Mesto, my good luck showed up. I found someone from the organization, and literally in a minute, he was right in front of me.
Meeting Mr. Michele Mesto himself
Colombian legend Victor Mora was the first ever winner of Stramilano
As soon as he saw me, he said, "tu sei la figlia di Mora!" I just replied, yes, and immediately he gave me a hug, which honestly made me feel very excited, he asked me how my father was, and in my basic Italian I told him that he lives in Canada and that he had told me that he remembered the Stramilano a lot; a few months before my father told me that the race has a great meaning for him, having been the first champion of the half marathon (in 1976, the edition was held for the first time with professional athletes on the 21.0975K), having beaten the Italians who were the favorites and also for the curious fact that since they hadn't thought that a Colombian was going to win, they didn't have our national anthem and in the end they played La Cucaracha at the medal ceremony, which isn't even a Colombian song. On his part, he told me he remembered my dad a lot, how strong an athlete he was, anecdotes about money, things they experienced during his two races here, and that the last time he'd seen him was in Brazil, and yes, we understood each other despite of our language barrier.
Until that moment, I didn't really know who Don Michele was. We'd already talked, he'd invited me for coffee and given me the race number. Suddenly, someone came up to greet him, and then I understood perfectly: "Buongiorno Signor Presidente della Stramilano" and yes, for almost an hour I'd been in the company of not only of the President of the Organizing Committee, but also of the founder, along with several friends who had given life to the Stramilano. I was being welcomed by the race president himself. I can't deny that I felt as if I was the most important competitor in this race.
Hour 0 is approaching
During the week, I was very anxious. I thought it would be a difficult race, I was afraid my knee would hurt. In short, many thoughts ran through my head. I'm not a professional competitor; I've always run for recreational purposes, but the simple fact of being able to participate in one of the races in which my father made history, a history as important as being the first champion, made me feel much more special than simply running.
The day before, I decided to buy a proof water jacket to protect me from the rain - the best decision ever - while talking to my father by phone. He told me, "Okay, daughter, when you get back, eat well and go to bed early so you're ready for tomorrow." I always follow his advice, maybe not the one about training every day.
Moment of truth
And finally, March 23rd arrived. The 5K race was starting at 10:00 a.m. I got up very early because getting to the starting point would take me about an hour. It was raining here in Vigevano, and I was just hoping the weather would be different in Milan, but it wasn't. While traveling, I was thinking, where do I get off? the Duomo station closed, the entrance will be? Suddenly, I saw a group of people wearing race T-shirts, so, like a private detective, I decided to follow them.
When I got out of the metro station, I found myself in a huge crowd. I shouldn't have been surprised, since races like the Bogotá Half Marathon, the Avianca Run Tour, and the Women's Race, among others, attract more than 42,000 people. But yes, the feeling was different. And there, in the middle of the crowd, it wasn't difficult to find my way, so I started warming up, not only because it's the right thing to do, but because it was drizzling heavily and it was very cold. After a while, the track opened, and I started to feel my legs shaking, not from the cold, but from the excitement of standing there.
The Start
Anxiety was taking over me; they took a while to announced the start, and that time seemed endless. Meanwhile, I was thinking: God, my father made history in this race before I was even born, it was a year before, and now I'm here, about to take part in the Stramilano, a race that my father holds dear. Sooner I had my music ready, my watch ready, and I said to myself: well, here I am, whatever my body allows. I had run the Scarpadoro a week before, a 4K around Vigevano, so I already had a little idea of what it was like to run in the cold, but in this case, the rain was added. Finally, the announcer started the countdown, and I shouted cinque, quattro, tre, due, uno, zero at the top of my lungs and took my first step.
The Race
The race started, a bit slowly, to be honest. The first turn is on a street, very, very, very narrow for the large crowd, so we were walking. A few meters ahead, the street widened, and I started running. I looked ahead, I looked at the streets, I looked at the houses, I looked at how I passed in front of Gucci, Ferragamo, and Dior stores, and at the same time I thought, wow, could my dad have passed this way? Could this have been the same route as in '76 or '80? The sensation of retracing his steps is indescribable. I still can't believe it. What I'm still feeling is truly inexplicable. I could have run along streets he did 50 years ago. My dad's feet must have passed along some of those streets, and that excited me more and more.
I forgot about the clock, the kilometers, the rain, the cold, and the puddles. Although it wasn't easy, the pave, uneven and wet streets made me have to be careful and slow down. Still, I was simply enjoying the run.
With less than a kilometer to go, I had to stop. I didn't have enough gas for the 5K, but my strength returned when I saw the finish arc in the distance. I ran those last few meters, truly filled with excitement, until I crossed the finish line, where I blessed myself and thanked God for giving me the opportunity to participate in this race.
My personal best
Crossing the finish line was spectacular, so much that I forgot to stop my watch. Just before going to collect the medal, I remembered, and when I looked at it, the emotion was even greater. It showed 38:58. I couldn't believe it. I had just set my personal best, I had run under 43 minutes, unbelievable. I'm not a professional athlete, I don't train, I'm not dedicated to this, and I used to run 5k between 43 and 48 minutes, so this was the icing on the cake.
The next day, I didn't even feel any pain in my legs, but the exhaustion, the cold, and the wetness. Not being able to change quickly and dry my clothes on my body gave me a pretty bad flu, but the memory of my best race makes me forget the discomfort. Simply a race to remember.
Fun Fact
The weather wasn't what I expected, so for the first time, I ran with a jacket and gloves on. Still, none of that stopped me from enjoying the race.
To end this happy story, I just have to thank Gianni Merlo and Mikhele Mesto for the opportunity to be part of Stramilano 2025, and my father for being an example and inspiration, and for, along with my mother, giving me life to live these beautiful experiences.
But anyway, here we go. It all started in early March 2025 when I arrived in Italy. On the first day back at the office, I told Gianni Merlo, the president of the International Sports Press Association, and my boss, that I wanted to register to run the Stramilano - well, in this case, the Stramilanina, since I only wanted to run the 5K. For many years, I've participated in recreational distances in the road races in Colombia, and the thought of being able to run in Milan seemed very pleasant. However, this race had something else, something more important and more special to me.
Gianni, upon learning the importance of this race, made a phone call, and in less than five minutes told me: "You have to go to Milan to pick up your race number." I was amazed at how quickly everything happened. Although it's true that in Colombia I get my registration thanks to the Correcaminos organization, Héctor Palau, and Jorge Lozano, I never imagined it would be the same in Italy, but it was.
March 16th arrived, the start of the fair, and I traveled from Vigevano to Milan. I had already received instructions from Gianni to go to Piazza Duomo - where the tent was set up - and to ask for Mr. Michele Mesto. To be completely honest, at that moment I had no idea who Mr. Mesto was; I thought it was someone they had assigned to help me and give me my race number. I arrived in Milan, and as if it were the first time, upon exiting the metro station, I couldn't contain my amazement at the sight of the imposing Metropolitan Cathedral of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, better known as the Duomo di Milano.
I found the tent prominently located on one side of the square, and although I had no idea who to ask about Mr. Mesto, my good luck showed up. I found someone from the organization, and literally in a minute, he was right in front of me.
Meeting Mr. Michele Mesto himself
As soon as he saw me, he said, "tu sei la figlia di Mora!" I just replied, yes, and immediately he gave me a hug, which honestly made me feel very excited, he asked me how my father was, and in my basic Italian I told him that he lives in Canada and that he had told me that he remembered the Stramilano a lot; a few months before my father told me that the race has a great meaning for him, having been the first champion of the half marathon (in 1976, the edition was held for the first time with professional athletes on the 21.0975K), having beaten the Italians who were the favorites and also for the curious fact that since they hadn't thought that a Colombian was going to win, they didn't have our national anthem and in the end they played La Cucaracha at the medal ceremony, which isn't even a Colombian song. On his part, he told me he remembered my dad a lot, how strong an athlete he was, anecdotes about money, things they experienced during his two races here, and that the last time he'd seen him was in Brazil, and yes, we understood each other despite of our language barrier.
Until that moment, I didn't really know who Don Michele was. We'd already talked, he'd invited me for coffee and given me the race number. Suddenly, someone came up to greet him, and then I understood perfectly: "Buongiorno Signor Presidente della Stramilano" and yes, for almost an hour I'd been in the company of not only of the President of the Organizing Committee, but also of the founder, along with several friends who had given life to the Stramilano. I was being welcomed by the race president himself. I can't deny that I felt as if I was the most important competitor in this race.
Hour 0 is approaching
During the week, I was very anxious. I thought it would be a difficult race, I was afraid my knee would hurt. In short, many thoughts ran through my head. I'm not a professional competitor; I've always run for recreational purposes, but the simple fact of being able to participate in one of the races in which my father made history, a history as important as being the first champion, made me feel much more special than simply running.
The day before, I decided to buy a proof water jacket to protect me from the rain - the best decision ever - while talking to my father by phone. He told me, "Okay, daughter, when you get back, eat well and go to bed early so you're ready for tomorrow." I always follow his advice, maybe not the one about training every day.
Moment of truth
And finally, March 23rd arrived. The 5K race was starting at 10:00 a.m. I got up very early because getting to the starting point would take me about an hour. It was raining here in Vigevano, and I was just hoping the weather would be different in Milan, but it wasn't. While traveling, I was thinking, where do I get off? the Duomo station closed, the entrance will be? Suddenly, I saw a group of people wearing race T-shirts, so, like a private detective, I decided to follow them.
When I got out of the metro station, I found myself in a huge crowd. I shouldn't have been surprised, since races like the Bogotá Half Marathon, the Avianca Run Tour, and the Women's Race, among others, attract more than 42,000 people. But yes, the feeling was different. And there, in the middle of the crowd, it wasn't difficult to find my way, so I started warming up, not only because it's the right thing to do, but because it was drizzling heavily and it was very cold. After a while, the track opened, and I started to feel my legs shaking, not from the cold, but from the excitement of standing there.
The Start
Anxiety was taking over me; they took a while to announced the start, and that time seemed endless. Meanwhile, I was thinking: God, my father made history in this race before I was even born, it was a year before, and now I'm here, about to take part in the Stramilano, a race that my father holds dear. Sooner I had my music ready, my watch ready, and I said to myself: well, here I am, whatever my body allows. I had run the Scarpadoro a week before, a 4K around Vigevano, so I already had a little idea of what it was like to run in the cold, but in this case, the rain was added. Finally, the announcer started the countdown, and I shouted cinque, quattro, tre, due, uno, zero at the top of my lungs and took my first step.
The Race
The race started, a bit slowly, to be honest. The first turn is on a street, very, very, very narrow for the large crowd, so we were walking. A few meters ahead, the street widened, and I started running. I looked ahead, I looked at the streets, I looked at the houses, I looked at how I passed in front of Gucci, Ferragamo, and Dior stores, and at the same time I thought, wow, could my dad have passed this way? Could this have been the same route as in '76 or '80? The sensation of retracing his steps is indescribable. I still can't believe it. What I'm still feeling is truly inexplicable. I could have run along streets he did 50 years ago. My dad's feet must have passed along some of those streets, and that excited me more and more.
I forgot about the clock, the kilometers, the rain, the cold, and the puddles. Although it wasn't easy, the pave, uneven and wet streets made me have to be careful and slow down. Still, I was simply enjoying the run.
With less than a kilometer to go, I had to stop. I didn't have enough gas for the 5K, but my strength returned when I saw the finish arc in the distance. I ran those last few meters, truly filled with excitement, until I crossed the finish line, where I blessed myself and thanked God for giving me the opportunity to participate in this race.
My personal best
Crossing the finish line was spectacular, so much that I forgot to stop my watch. Just before going to collect the medal, I remembered, and when I looked at it, the emotion was even greater. It showed 38:58. I couldn't believe it. I had just set my personal best, I had run under 43 minutes, unbelievable. I'm not a professional athlete, I don't train, I'm not dedicated to this, and I used to run 5k between 43 and 48 minutes, so this was the icing on the cake.
The next day, I didn't even feel any pain in my legs, but the exhaustion, the cold, and the wetness. Not being able to change quickly and dry my clothes on my body gave me a pretty bad flu, but the memory of my best race makes me forget the discomfort. Simply a race to remember.
Fun Fact
The weather wasn't what I expected, so for the first time, I ran with a jacket and gloves on. Still, none of that stopped me from enjoying the race.
To end this happy story, I just have to thank Gianni Merlo and Mikhele Mesto for the opportunity to be part of Stramilano 2025, and my father for being an example and inspiration, and for, along with my mother, giving me life to live these beautiful experiences.
News from the same category
.jpg)
