I think I was affected by the running virus sometime late 2011. Goaded by my good pal Vinay, I took my first baby steps into the world of marathons, running and what have you – my approach was wary, that of cautious exploration - I told myself that if I didn’t like what I was doing, I could always drop it, with no regrets.
Little did I know how virulent this bug was – it was but a matter of few months before I attempted a 10k run, following which I signed up for my first half marathon at Pondicherry in February 2012. Post Auroville, and post my induction into Hyderabad Runners, I knew I was here to stay. Waking up in the wee hours of morning, looking forward to a round or two of KBR Park must mean something!
One thing led to another, and in November 2012, I landed in New York with the hope of making my debut as a full marathoner, albeit extremely apprehensive if I’d pull it off – I simply didn’t know if I had it in me or if I had trained sufficiently. Anyway, Storm Sandy put an end to all that, and I slunk away back home, like a dog with it’s tail between it’s legs, when the New York marathon was cancelled. Disappointment loomed large but I promised myself I would run that hallowed course at some point in my life….
Exactly a year later – cut to Athens, Greece –
I am standing at the start line of the Athens Classic Marathon. There are supposed to be 12000 runners here, according to the announcement. Every one of them looks like they’ve been chiseled out of a block of lean muscle, they all look like they will zoom off in a cloud of dust as soon as the gun fires. Some are sipping on liquids in bizarre colors, some indulging in seemingly impossible contortions, yet others who are emptying sachets of multicolored goop into their mouths (energy gel, as I find out later). Panic sets in, and I am thinking “Oh God, I don’t belong here, I am this middle aged mother of two from India, pretending to be some kind of international athlete.” At that moment in time, I wish the earth would open up and swallow me.
Vinay comes out of his corral, to see how I am holding up, I plaster a smile across my face and mutter something about being fine. He doesn’t appear to believe me but thumps me on the back and leaves.
There are 10 minutes left before kick off. Somehow, some semblance of calm sets in, I take some deep breaths and tell myself that the worst that could happen is not being able to complete the run. My husband who was to wait at the finish line for me had told me time and time again, that I wasn’t here to prove anything to anyone and a DNF isn’t the end of the world. With that thought in mind, I tell myself I am not going to ponder on the consequences without giving it all I have first and wait for the countdown.
And then, it’s time….the sea of runners before me take off. I set off at a nice easy pace too. The roar of the cheering crowds at the start point fades. All very uneventful till kilometer 7 or 8, when I stop at an aid station for my first liquid recharge. That’s when I notice – the sun, having risen steadily, was looking decidedly menacing. Should I be aware of the impending heat and perhaps, strategize a bit? After all, I haven’t even finished one quarter of the distance? The grey cells start working and bingo! I have made a decision – I will take it easy, I will not push myself and court a heatstroke…..and that was that!
It’s walk-run, walk-run after that, having made my mind that enjoying the run was of prime importance and nothing else matters, I do just that. Shaking hands with all the little kids who lined the roads, accepting all the olive branches that locals handed out for luck, singing loudly when I feel like it, I trudge on, hitting kilometer 17 pretty easily.
Yes, I was warned about the dreaded 15 km steady incline that begins at kilometer 17 or thereabouts. I soon find out why – seemingly endless, it just climbs and climbs – there is no respite, not even a 100 m stretch of downhill. To the left of me, I see the sweep vehicles picking up scores of runners who have succumbed to the heat. I shudder but as I am still on the move, I must be doing alright. The sun is beating down relentlessly, there is no shade of any sort. Crowds cheer me on – cries of “Bravo, Bravo” rent the air….God bless the warm hearted Greeks, such wonderful people…..I slow down, pace up, slow down again but pull on, nevertheless…..
Unbelievable but true , I am at kilometer 32, having just entered the city of Athens. I stop to examine myself – I must confess there is no real worry – no aches and pains and no bone dead exhaustion. Pretty sure that I am holding up well, I ingest a sachet of Vanilla energy gel and start off again. At this point, I see a couple of visually challenged runners, a guy with a knee brace who’s very definitely in pain but pulling on gamely. I feel really small but yes, unintentionally, they boost my energy and motivation levels, so I keep at it…
Why is it that the last 10 percent is the hardest? I know I am only about 4-5 km away from the finish line, why are my legs threatening to stop working now? I see a lady holding up a sign that says “you run better than our government”……how can I help not laughing at that? The legs get a shot of strength and energy, take me to almost kilometer 40…..another lady, another sign that says “your legs still look great”….I can hear the crowds roaring “come on, you are almost there….” I make it past kilometer 41 – I see Vinay waiting for me, he joins me. “Come on, start sprinting now….just down that road is the stadium”……Sprinting? Easier said than done, my legs are pure lead now…..I manage a somewhat quicker trot but that’s it……
Finally, I see the finish arch at the stadium, push myself to go as fast as I can……and…..I cross the mat. Never was the “beep” sound more musical to my ears than at that time….I can’t stop grinning, a school girl comes and put the coveted medal around my neck…my husband and Vinay can’t stop congratulating me, it’s a treat to see their faces……and, what’s more, I don’t have a single injury or complaint, possibly because I took 6 hours and 54 minutes to complete the marathon!! The feeling is indescribable….I am still grinning from ear to ear, 2 or 3 hours later, after having had a shower and celebrating with a glass of wine back at the hotel!!!
Completing a marathon calls for a round of marathon eating, or so thinks the foodie in me. I shamelessly indulge to my heart’s content on tzatsiki, olives, Greek salad, meat and more meat, believing I’ve earned it! Vinay beams indulgently at me from the other end of the table, like a proud parent – all his patient attempts at “training” me have paid off, perhaps. The icing on the cake? A beautiful necklace from my husband!
I am thinking – was it fate that I couldn’t run the NY marathon last year? Maybe it was, for what could be better than having completed your first FM in the land where it all started? In historic Marathon town and finish in Athens ? A delicious shiver runs down the spine. An old song from my college days comes to mind – “First when there's nothing but a slow glowing dream….That your fear seems to hide deep inside your mind…..All alone I have cried silent tears full of pride…..what a feeling!!!”
Boy oh boy!! This is the stuff dreams are made of, if there is an instance when I want time to stand still, it is now….I take deep breaths and savour the moment……we leave Athens tomorrow morning and I am taking back so much more with me than photographs and touristy souvenirs…..
To all aspiring full marathoners out there, I am not qualified in the least to dole out advice on running. Terms like “PB” and “split timings” and so on are alien to me. I blank out completely during conversations with other runners on pace, timings, gait and the like. I am not even one of those die hard training schedule adhering persons, I cheat every now and then. Just completing a run is a milestone, I treasure the experience itself – every run has been enriching, in terms of learning.
But there is one thing I believe in, if you aren’t enjoying your running, don’t run….. a couple of years ago, I used to think that running a marathon was an act of lunacy, and never did I imagine that one day, I would be an aspiring “lunatic” myself. The point I’m trying to drive home is that if I can do it, you can too.
The most wonderful thing being a part of Hyderabad Runners means that whether you are the fastest or slowest, everyone is individually recognized – the group has folks who have some magnificent achievements to their name, some milestones which may never be beaten. At the same time, a laid back individual like me still fits in just as well…I am pretty confident my timing in my first FM may never be beaten by anyone but myself, in the years to come!!
“Slow and steady wins the race” goes an old adage from the Panchatantra fable of “The Hare and the Tortoise”. How true!! I like to think I am the slow dawdling tortoise of HR, cast among the super fast hares. Only in this case, everyone wins the race. A completely tongue in cheek statement – statistics relating to the environment show the hares are multiplying like rabbits (pun wholly intended), and the tortoise is threatened to the point of extinction.
So, all ye nervous FM aspirants – what’ll it be in 2014 then – hare or tortoise? I rest my case.
Very well articulated.. Cheers
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