SCMM 2011 recap

Let's start with the facts: in the build up to my 2nd full Mumbai Marathon, my mileage count stood at a dismal 200 odd kilometres covered over a 3 month time span. That was less than 20 Km a week. In order to be marathon ready, that mileage count should have read about 600 in 3 months. I had not run a single long run on tarmac over 25 Kms when I should have put in at least 3 over 30 Kms. And worst of all, I was 8 kilos heavier than when I ran the 2009 Mumbai Marathon. All these factors were of course weighing on my mind but what I did have which I didn't in 2009 was the experience of having finished 1 full marathon and 1 ultra (50 Km) in November of 2010. Hence I decided to get at least one part of the training in place: the mental part. But I'll come to that.

To the start then. I had booked myself on the 5:30 AM flight from Bangalore to Bombay on 15th January Saturday. Marathon wisdom has it that one almost never sleeps well the night before a marathon given nerves, anxiety and so on. Also, sleep apparently has a 36 hour lag which makes it even more important to sleep really well a night before the night before a marathon. Given this knowledge I was kicking myself for having made the blunder of waking up at 3:30 AM on Saturday morning to catch this flight. Making it to the airport in not the best of moods, I almost immediately lightened up at the check-in counter. I wasn't the only marathon participant on this flight. I counted at least 15 other "Runner's for Life" regulars around the check-in counters and was happy I wasn't the only idiot who'd woken up this early. Seeing some of my fellow runners who'd left me far behind at the recent Ultra in Bangalore however had a sobering effect.

Getting into Bombay was smooth as always and by 10:30 I was in a taxi on my way to collect my bib at Cuffe Parade. The driver asked me if he should take the sea link and I said of course. I wanted to get a look at this part of the course once at least to prepare for it mentally. The sea link from Bandra reclamation to Worli sea face is one long, hot stretch of tarmac bereft of even the slightest hint of shade. This was going to be a tough part I told myself. Reaching the expo, I was met with the same atmosphere of hustle, bustle, cheer and excitement as every year. I was one of the first in and picked up my bib, goodie bag and bought myself a packet of Gatorade powder sachets which I had been anxious to find! Positive signs I told myself.

I had myself the traditional pasta lunch at around 3 PM followed by bananas and lots of water after which I prepared my kit for the next day. The first step involved the problem of carrying the Gatorade sachets. I didn't know how often there would be sports drinks on the course and didn't want to depend on them. So Akhila helped me device a way to duct-tape the sachets onto my running sipper! It worked perfectly during the run and I did manage to make 2 good bottles of Gatorade for myself while not slowing down too much. The rest of the prep was the usual: pinning on the bib just right, laying out clean clothes to take for after the run, change for the morning train and my running gear of ipod, earphones, energy gels, sipper, watch, sun glasses (yes this time I chose to run with  BTwin cycling sunglasses which helped immensely!), pain balm, vaseline and anti-chafe cream. All done, I turned in by 7 PM. True to form, I slept fitfully but did manage about 6 hours of good sleep. Mom gave me a wake up call at 3:15 AM when I was just waking up myself. I did my morning business (very important before a 42 Km run trust me!), a shower and was at the Bandra train station at 4:10. I caught one of the first trains and was at the baggage counter in Azad Maidan by 5 AM. There were only a few early runners who had already reached. It gave me a lot of time to mentally go over my approach to this run. Many great cricketers, a couple whom I've had the fortune of interacting with speak about their routine of mentally visualizing their batting innings or bowling the night before or a few hours before they go out to play. This, they say helps them get into a good frame of mind but also makes it easier for them to execute what they have already visualized in their heads. I used this with some success in my own playing days but never had the mental strength to do it regularly. With marathon running though, this practice is invaluable. I used the early quiet time to think about how I would keep pace with the "5 hour running group" whom I was going to try and tag along with, how I would stop for refills of water, at what times I would consume my energy gels and most importantly I began to replay in my head, the different and myriad pains I would begin to experience at different points of the marathon which would inevitably be followed by the even more insidious bouts of self-doubt, frustration, anguish and futility one experiences towards the business end of the race. That done, I slipped on all my running gear, ensured there was nothing loose on deck and made my way to the holding area to find the 5 hour running group.

The 5 hour running group or "bus" as it's called was basically one experienced marathoner who would lead whoever wanted to join him, through the full marathon at a pace of about 6:45 mins per kilometre in order to finish the full 42.2 K in or around 5 hours. Before I knew it, I was back at the starting point where runners were nervously chatting, sipping last minute drinks, eating candy bars or like me just trying to concentrate and keep the adrenaline levels in check. This is among the most thrilling feelings I have ever experienced: waiting in the holding area with 2000 or 3000 other runners, all of whom have trained hard, sacrificed a helluva lot and all of whom have earned their place here at the starting gun. Just being part of such an incredible group of men and women gives me a great sense of camaraderie equally tempered with humility. This is what one works hard for...to be here. To be alive. You never feel more alive in all your waking moments than when you're at a marathon.

The start was called by some really absurd RJ / DJ type person but the music was already loud in my ears and I mercifully didn't hear too much. The start was good and before the 1st K marker, I had found myself a good spot a little behind and to the left of the leader in the group. He had a bunch of red helium balloons tied to his hip which made for a fantastic target to keep looking at as one ran. We were doing a spot-on pace of about 6:35 - 6:40 mins per kilometre thanks to I am sure the lead runner's practice and his Garmin forerunner watch (!!!) which I badly covet but I'll save that for another post. As we wound our way past Marine Lines and the small cricket grounds opposite Marine Drive, a faint but steady glow began to appear in the sky: I prayed that the sun would be kind this time around. Experience in distance running makes you wise. You learn to tether your pace, learn to not overstretch. Learn to husband all your reserves of energy and glycogen and you learn the importance of hydration. I drank 1 litre of water/Gatorade/Lucozade drink mixes in the first hour or 8 K of the race. By the time we reached Haji Ali, I began to feel the first twinges of discomfort and alarmingly the first sensation of cramp on my left calf. Cramp is something I never experience and so this little twinge got me seriously worried. I hoped it would stay away.

The route this time was a bit different. We went past the Siddhivinayak temple, then down to the INS Trata turn and took a strange short road and U turn at a place I don't recall before snaking snaking onto the sea link. Just before this we ran through the Worli Seaface and it was at this moment around 14 K into the run that I felt this incredible surge of energy and feeling of lightness that I've come to associate with distance running. The more you run the more you experience it but like nothing else, that feeling is always special. It makes you feel like you've never been more alive, you feel every muscle, nerve end and pore of your body functioning at it's peak and this may sound cliched but you really feel as one with the Universe. Now I am not propagating theories of the Earth having a singular energy source and all of us being able to draw from it if our minds are made to bend in that fashion, but at times like this, on the 14th Kilometre on Worli sea face, I surely felt something along those lines. Many people ask me why I run, why the pain the sacrifice the heartache: for this. All for this one single, almost fleeting moment where some sort of energy bolts right up through your body and you are surprised to find yourself grinning from ear to ear, not for any other reason other than that you are in harmony with the most natural of elements this world has to offer. Very metaphysical yes but also very true. That one surge kept me going well for the next 10 Km at least I know that for sure.

Onto the sea link. This is when things started getting tough for me and all those miles which I had not put in showed me up. The sea link gradually begins an incline which one wouldn't notice but when it's around the 26 K mark, you notice. The sea link had absolutely no breeze and no shade. I felt myself stiffening up and that's when I disengaged from the 5 hour running group, saw the balloons disappear into the distance as I took a short pain spray and water break on the sea link. Right I told myself, this is what marathons are all about: a long, hard struggle on your own. I then started my mental mantras of setting kilometre-wise milestones and times to finish them in to keep myself from not going insane with the pain and anguish. I told myself that the first goal was to get off this goddamn sea link and once I did everything would be OK. It's amazing how you can play games with your mind when exhaustion is upon you. But it's these games that save you too. Once off the sea link, I thankfully found ice and a sponge which kept me going till the 33 K mark or so. That's when I hit the infamous Peddar road incline. I walked. I took a good, long 8 minute walking break here after which I found a fantastic 2nd wind which kept me going at a reasonable pace till the 39 K mark. I took another short break there and then enjoyed a steady pace down Marine Drive through traffic till the the Churchgate turn. From here on, there was no slowing down. There were still people lining the streets shouting "only 500 metres to go!" and those really help believe me. About 300 metres short I pulled another runner who'd slowed to a walk and convinced him to run with me to the finish. He did keep up but stopped again 100 metres short with a "Can't make it bro". Unlike 2009, my finish wasn't strong and at a sprint. I slowly, steadily made my way down to the finish mats lined with cheering people. I heard the sweet sound of my timing chip chirping in happiness on hitting the finish mat and broke out into the broadest smile in months.

Post race recovery was quite uneventful. I threw up of course as my body couldn't store all the gels and carbohydrate concentrates I'd consumed in the last 6 hours. But other than that I managed to rest for a while, pick up my finisher's medal and hail a taxi back to Bandra over the damn sea link no less and to a much needed shower and rest. Many people are to be thanked for making this possible. But you all now who you are.

Considering my lack of training, I am satisfied I finished this year. My time of 5:31 was 39 minutes slower than my 2009 time. In 2012 I want to attempt a time which I won't say here. We'll see. For now, I am looking out for my new pair of running shoes (probably Asics now that one can buy them in India) and starting my strength training soon at the gym. It's been a week since the marathon. It's Saturday night as I type this and I feel this uneasiness and itch brought about by the fact that tomorrow is Sunday and I don't have a long run scheduled. I love to run.

Number 3

It's almost time for marathon number 3. The usual blend of nervousness, resignation, determination, dread, anticipation, excitement and planning accompany number 3. My second time running 42.195 in Bombay albeit this time the course includes a sweep over the new Worli-Bandra sea link. I have been trying hard to recollect memories of the course from 2009 and distinctly recall the stretch from Mahalaxmi to Wankhede as the part that nearly broke me. It's that stretch that is still haunting me. Ghosts are common in the lead up to a marathon. To seek some comfort, I've picked up Murakami's "What I talk about when I talk about running" again and immediately I felt a warm glow creep around me, however fleeting it might have been, of reassurance. Reassurance that I wasn't the only person who felt this way, that self doubt is normal before a 42.195 K run and that despite running dozens of marathons, there will be times when you will NOT finish for one reason or the other. I just hope, as I am sure every runner does, that it isn't THIS time.

It's at times like these that I get meditative and philosophical about marathon running. It's at times like this, a few days before I put my body through the rigours which modern day living has rendered almost impossible to accomplish that the ideals and lessons that come about through the medium of distance running become clearer yet again. The event is at once an ordeal and a celebration. It is an achievement wearing hardship's clothes and the reverse could also be said. Now many would say that you cannot have one without the other and this may be true for a generation about 60 - 80 years ago and earlier. We're children of convenience. Our pressures, struggles and battles are fought in rooms, often with wits as our only weapons. Society has evolved in a way today as to render reflection and inward thought unnecessary. Even when reflecting, we're thinking of how to solve issues, seldom how to make ourselves better people. Distance running for me at least rearranges the status quo. Whether it's in the training, the days immediately before a run, the run itself or the aftermath and recovery period, each step bends you to not look outside for crutches but inside for fortitude. It teaches you that support systems outside yourself are merely fleeting: the ipod, good running shorts, a training buddy...all these help but 10 K into a marathon and those things really don't matter anymore. I've said this before and so have many other wiser people before me: what sets distance running apart is it scythes you open, bare and naked for all to see. But the incredible part is at a certain point, you stop caring what people are seeing and become more concerned with what YOU see. This is an almost magical experience because we seldom do this in our age. The yogis of old constantly refer to going within, discovering and leveraging energies both mental and physical that lie latent, dormant even within each of us. To run a marathon, you are left with no choice. Either harness this latency or fall by the wayside. As a metaphor for the harsh reality of life, there is none better, none more apt.

As I count the days down (12 more now) to the day when I will queue up with thousands of others at VT in Bombay, I am concentrating on the little details. What time will I have to leave Bandra to reach VT at 5:15 AM? How will I carry my energy supplements? What will be on my play list? What will the sea link route be like? What will I eat for dinner post race? The running and training related issues I keep to a minimum. There's not much I can do now to improve my race time or endurance. Whatever comes will come. It isn't resignation but respect. Respect for the sport. Humility that the road may let me finish another 42.195 K distance and a barely audible buzz of excitement which will become an internal din of adrenaline when I line up at the start line. As Murakami says, "Pain is inevitable, suffering is optional". I hope not to suffer too much. The pain I will welcome with a smile and a grimace.