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.