In The time of our lives Rutger van Castricum (presenter) and Chatilla vanGrinsven (former basketball player) are training for the World Time TrialChampionship in Australia. A few months to get as fit as a pro. A formersports director warns them in advance. For the physical pain and sufferingduring long hours of training. But especially against the fight they willfight with themselves. “You are fighting against something that is not there.Something you don’t see.” Training, he says, requires surrender.
On Monday night I watched the documentary Surrender which Marijn Frank madefor her best friend Annemarie who had no time left to live. She died of cancerat the age of 37, leaving behind a husband and a 7-year-old daughter. Sheleaves Marijn Frank with her necklace and her running outfit. Red shirt, blackpants. A year or two before it became clear she had a tumor in her tongue, shehad started running. Running was good for her, says Frank in the film she madeabout her. “It helped her through dark times.” For her, the months after herfriend’s death are so dark that she decides to take up running too, eventhough she hates it. Her friend ran the half marathon in Egmond, she runs thewhole marathon in Berlin. Her coach warns her in advance. You can’t run fromsadness. “When you get home, it’s just waiting for you.”
Is it fun to watch people try really hard to get themselves ready for a bigperformance? Not necessarily. On Friday evening, Rutger and Chatilla do notattract many viewers. Surrender is something completely different. Sure, wesee Marijn Frank running as if her life depended on it, crying and looking ather watch to see how long the suffering will last. Throughout the trainingimages she addresses her friend in voice over and we see images she made withher when she was sick. Intimate and deeply sad. Dying is bad, dying andleaving a young child is not possible.
It just so happens that I live in a house along the route of the Amsterdammarathon. I saw them again last Sunday. First the sprinters, then the stringsof joggers, the jumpers and the people who visibly have something to prove tothis or that person or themselves. Next year I will pay more attention to seeif I see Marijn Frank passing by, now that she has learned to reflect on herlack by running.
Dream Participant
To the broadcast of without a trace Monday evening I was curious. The pre-announcement revealed that Derk Bolt would reunite two participants with theirbiological families in Colombia. Just as commotion had erupted last week overpast mismatches. An intermediary hired by without a trace would have linkedadoptees to the wrong families. Especially in Colombia.
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The broadcast continued with an inserted introduction. Bolt made no apologiesor blamed anyone. He did acknowledge the sadness and disappointment of the”few participants” in whom the match went wrong. He announced “thoroughresearch” that would take “a lot of time.” There was no doubt about recentmatches, he emphasized. Nowadays a DNA test is always taken. So do we see36-year-old Joedi’s father reading a document confirming his paternity? Forthe blazon of Bolt, Joedi, by the way, was a dream participant. She said thatshe always knew that if she would ever look for her family, she would reportto Spoorloos, and ‘Derk’ would help her. But then Bolt was kidnapped inColombia (in 2017). That would have been “traumatic and intense” for him, shesays. Her “dream” shattered, Bolt would probably never dare to go to Colombiafor her again. He went anyway and found her father, but also her half-sisters,half-brother and mother.