The longest run of my life

A tale of passion, perspiration, persistence, perseverance and paagalpan

11 pm, 15th Jan, 2011
I just couldn’t sleep. I had, as scheduled, got into bed at 10.15 pm. I was tossing and turning but sleep evaded me. I tried counting sheep but my thoughts would wander by the count of 5. I was petrified – would I be able to finish it? Would I be able to see it through to its triumphant conclusion? Would my leg hold up? I again went through the route in my mind. It’s a funny thing – when I am sitting leisurely and thinking about a run, the visuals are very different from what they are in reality. In my thoughts, I look glamorous when I run, I don’t run - I sprint, sometimes, I even run in slow motion my loose hair flying around. And above all I never give up, I finish strong! But I also know that reality is far from it. Hence the tension!

4 am, 16th Jan, 2011
When the alarm went off at 4 am I jumped out of bed in fright. I could feel my body taut and tense. I got ready hurriedly, while doing a mental check list. Bib pinned on T shirt – check, timing chip on shoes – check, Gatorade bottle for the last stretch – check, Gatorade sachets – check. At 5 am we were off, Sharat, his brother from Pune, Sunita and I. We reached CST in no time, thanks to the empty roads. We stretched in the holding area and before I knew it, it was 6.15 am. Up until now I had only participated in the dream run (once) and half marathon (4 times) where due to the swarming crowds it takes ages to even reach the starting line. This was unusual for me, I was through the starting line at 6.16, only 1 minute after the gun went off!

Runners were sprinting as soon as they started. The weather was perfect, enthusiasm was at its peak and the cheering crowds (hot John Abraham and the pretty Deepika Padukone waving at us) were a huge inducement. I could feel the adrenaline rush to my head and the excitement gush through all my veins. I had begun one of the biggest challenges of my life. Whether I could sustain my stamina for nearly 6 hours was a test my body was going to undergo for the very first time. It was difficult to contain myself, I too wanted to rush in my eagerness. But discipline is an important part of the training – I knew I would be out of breath sooner than planned if I ran fast. So as runners sped past me I kept telling myself that it was okay – after all I was here, not to compete with the 2,800 odd runners participating in the amateur marathon. I was here purely to compete with myself. Sunita and I stuck to our usual pace and strangely today, we were unusually quiet. The anxiety had had a curious effect on us – it had shut us up. All through our training we had joked that one of us should have an affair before the final day so that we would have juicy stories to exchange which would distract our minds and make the run easier. However, right here right now, all thoughts of affairs and other jokes were totally out of our minds. Our entire focus was on seeing this race through. Our aim was non-ambitious and unambiguous – we both wanted to finish the race within 6 hours and do it without any injuries. Simple! There was no heroism here, no bravado, no pretences.


The distraction provided by the loud music, the lavani dancer, the bhangra dancers, the cheerleaders sporadically spread over the route was indeed fun. Anything that takes your mind off the run, even for a few minutes, is an immense relief. People sometimes ask me what I think about when I run. Well, my thoughts speed like traffic on an expressway. “Is my leg paining more than yesterday?.... Hope my cook comes on time….Would Mehaa be up now….Wow, I like that girl’s tank top, I’ll get one for myself if I lose some weight…..why is “leisure” spelt “liesure” in all procam banners and hoardings, what’s wrong with them to not spell-proof it….who was Prerna referring to when she said she had a new boyfriend….would she have slept with him….should I straighten my hair again…..the next time a guy asks me whether I can cook, I’ll make raita out of him…..who is this foreigner guy running beside me….” You get the gist! My thoughts are like a feather whipping around in the wind, sometimes caught in a storm, sometimes rushing along hastily, sometimes scurrying around aimlessly and sometimes enjoying the genial breeze. But never predictable, never structured.


My 10 day old leg injury had begun to play up. And now the body not wanting asymmetry of any sort had developed the exact same pain, at the exact same location on my left leg as well. This was wonderful! Even in the most favourable circumstances running 42 kms is a herculean task and here I was, with both legs paining. Now I couldn’t even limp if I wanted. This was at the 12 km mark, I was at Worli Sea face. Sunita suggested that I should have a pain killer, but the pain was not yet unbearable. I wanted to save the medicine for the last 15-20 kms when I knew I would be approaching my pain threshold. So I pushed along thinking about all that had been made out of my leg injury. Many theories were circulating:

a) I had such a fear of developing an injury that I had psychologically made it happen.
b) I was always cheerful. I had kept my chin up even when I lost my dad a few months ago. My body was reacting to a suppressed sub conscious pain.
c) I was growing old and the body could not keep pace.
d) I was a cribber (totally opposite of theory “b”), and I had cribbed and cribbed and my body gave in.
e) The roads we run on are uneven and running constantly on uneven surfaces causes muscle injuries.

Understandably, I only like theory “e” as the others made me out to be a basket case. And despite the last theory being explained by a physiotherapist, my friends didn’t stop playing Freud. Wanting to leave no stone unturned in my efforts to participate in the marathon, I had visited an orthopaedic 3-4 days before the run. He gave me a clean chit saying that there was no permanent damage, taking a load of my chest. He gave me a prescription and I made up my mind to give the run all I had. After all, a long run has more to do with the mind than the body. If my body packed up beyond the control of my mind, then I would stop when I had to. But I would go down fighting.


I was approaching Shivaji Park and we had maintained our speed of 8kms/hr so far. Our aim was to try and maintain it for as long as we could. My heart was beating faster in anticipation. And then, I saw them - there they were! Mehaa - my daughter, Neeraj - my husband, with our friend Rahul. My face broke into a smile as I ran to them to do hi-fives and for a few seconds I forgot all about my pain and fatigue. Neeraj said, “Don’t stop don’t stop, keep going. You’re doing great.” It was music to my ears. I knew I could go another couple of kms on these words. It’s a wonder what a few words of motivation can do while running.

Somewhere after Shivaji Park we crossed our half mark. I was getting tired but I could not allow my mind to think that. The mind is a peculiar creature. It is always making excuses. A little voice inside me was telling me to stop, to give up, to walk just a few steps, reminding me of my leg injury. And the voice was incessant, applying pressure on my raw nerves, playing up on my weaknesses, it was growing louder and louder and I had to shut it off. Immediately! I changed gears and shifted my thoughts to Bandra Reclamation where my friend Kumar was going to be waiting with fruits, water and definitely, some motivating words. I was not disappointed. Sunita and I reached him, grabbed some bananas, prepared some Gatorade water and we were off while he was still telling us how great we were doing. I so needed that! Eating a banana while running was a new experience for me, and I accomplished it with élan. Sunita decided she wanted to eat peacefully, so she walked while she ate. I had begun to lose her. I knew we were on our own now onwards. Sunita gets recharged and rejuvenated after a walk and so prefers short walks between the run. On the other hand, one of my biggest flaws is that if I give in to that diabolic voice telling me to stop, then resuming running is a formidable proposition.



I was approaching the Bandra-Worli Sea Link when I saw someone jumping and waving in excitement. This could be no one but Swati, my friend. Her husband, Debu, held out an orange and I took it. What was wrong with me, I had just stuffed my face with a banana! But when I see food, I need to eat! Along with them were Mihika, their daughter and Triaaksh, Sunita and Sharat’s son. All had woken up early on a Sunday morning to come and cheer us. What would life be without friends! Swati, the photo freak saw a photo op here and actually dragged me into a picture with her. Her enthusiasm rubbed off on me and before long I was on my way with renewed energy! Little did I know what lay ahead.


Bandra-Worli Sea link! All it takes is 3 minutes to cover it when you zip past it in a car! But while running it showed a different side to me - it was horrific. There was no shade, the shadows were getting shorter and shorter as the sun was rising higher into the sky. And the sea link seemed never ending. The heat was getting to me! It was sweltering and oppressive. I wanted to stop. I wanted to give up. I wanted to be under a cold shower. I wanted a foot massage. I wanted the blisters on my feet to disappear. Right here is when I realized that I had overdone the eating along the way. It made me feel like I was running after a 7 course meal. At that instance, a guy running beside me made the huge mistake of calling me “didi”. Didi? And me? Had he not looked in a mirror for the last 25 yrs? Did he not notice that he was a grown man now? He made me spitting mad and I decided to outrun him – I would show him who the younger person was! I did a good job. I guess I’m good when I’m angry!! In some time he was nowhere to be seen.

After the 35km mark, I had reached breaking point. I had to stop for breath. I knew I could run no longer. I seized the wet sponge being held out by a volunteer and as I squeezed the cold water on my face, head and hot weary back I experienced paradise. I began running again and all of a sudden, up ahead was the intimidating Jaslok gradient. For runners who are familiar with this route, Jaslok incline can be snapping point. I knew walking up would help me conserve some energy. And then I saw him again – the cute foreigner, who I had been seeing every now and then! In Sunita’s absence, I decided to make do with the company closest at hand. Thankfully he spoke English, albeit with a delightful accent. French guy, that’s what he was! Exciting, in different circumstances. But trust my luck, I meet a handsome young French man and what am I doing? Running in the scorching heat on the streets of Mumbai, exhausted and worn-out. ‘Make do with what you have, don’t complain’ is what my mother always said, so obedient that I am, I did just that. We ran some and walked some, chatting all the way but then he fell back too. I was again on my own on Marine Drive, the last lap and probably the most challenging. I was stretched by now. The leg injury was lost in a host of other pains, as Sharat had joked before setting off. Every part of my leg pained. My toe nail throbbed, I think it was coming off. My arms and shoulders were sore but much as I tried I couldn’t run without moving them. God! When would this end?


Sharmila, my friend, was waiting for me at finish line and how I wanted to be with her. I had reached the 40km mark when Vincent, my French friend caught up with me. We decided to run to the finish line all the way, without stopping. As I approached the finish line, it seemed to be moving further and further away from me. As I gave the end all I could, I heard cheering, clapping and Sharmila’s voice shouting excitedly, “Yeah Roopa, way to go. You’ve done it!” I looked around, I was in. I WAS IN! I HAD CROSSED THE FINISH LINE! I looked at the time – 5hrs 40min! Much better than expected. Sharmila reached me and pumped my hand in congratulations and patted me. She was saying something excitedly but I couldn’t make out what. Everything around me was swirling in slow motion. This was surreal. I felt nothing, absolutely nothing. Just relief! Relief that I did not have to run another step, relief that it was over! As she went back to the finish line to wait for Sunita, I walked vacantly to the pavement on the side. I needed to sit, I needed to rest my tired legs. I couldn’t understand the tumult of emotions inside me. As I sat down, it dawned on me that I had achieved what I had set out do. I had accomplished something I had never before thought possible. I had pulled it off. As the tears began to flow, I realized that my emotions were creating mayhem inside me. My tears of joy, pride and relief mixed with sweat and fatigue and in this surge of emotions, it finally sank in that my father was gone forever. The third day after he passed away I was on the roads training, and today the tears flowed relentlessly, and I mourned his loss at last.

This run is dedicated to you, Baba.

Training for the Marathon - the ten-headed Hydra

I was under pressure to name this write up “marathon – the taming of the ten headed hydra”, to make it sound like it was easy, and we were heroes who had conquered all our fears and had emerged triumphant. But hell no, this hydra hasn’t been tamed at all. I am just as nervous about the marathon as I was 5 months ago when the bright idea to register in the 42 km full marathon entered my pretty head (you may have a point of view on the adjective used, but that can be discussed separately!). My good friends Sharat and Sunita conspired to try the full marathon this year and for some reason they were not satisfied with only each others’ company (they are married for god’s sake and they should have been content simply by being together in this hellish plan). But I guess they needed the entertaining company of yours truly. All persuasive skills were put to dramatic use and I, the fool, fell for it hook, line and sinker! Fresh under the influence of their flattering comments (I was relatively fit, exercised regularly, had already participated in the half marathon 4 times, had completed enduro3 with Sunita successfully, it was time for a new challenge in life, I could do it if no one else could etc) I really thought that with training, it would be doable and registered with uncharacteristic haste hitherto unknown to my lazy leonine self.

Once the die was cast it was imperative to start training. The rains nearly behind us, we started training in September. Yes, for an event in January, we started training in September. If I had put in so much time, planning and hard work when I was studying, I’d probably be a rocket scientist now! Sharat took on the role of trainer and we were the guinea pigs. Let me clarify that he’s a doctor and a good one at that, so he could assume the authoritative role without impertinent students (like Sunita and me) challenging his every instruction. He worked out an impressive looking schedule and drew out a diet plan for us which really comprised running crazy distances at odd hours and eating protein, carbohydrates, and similar healthy food which I actively avoid in day to day life. I was not liking this one bit!


stretching before setting out - happy and upbeat






stretching after the run - smiles have gone!





As it turned out, the initial running schedule was moderate and gentle, wherein we ran distances between 4.5 km to 10 km, 4 days a week. We started with enthusiasm and gusto. But within 2-3 weeks, the exhaustion had begun to show. After all, we were working people with kids. This meant we had to complete our run in time to get kids ready for school and then get ready ourselves to go out to eke a living for ourselves. The early mornings (often as early as 4.30 am) were making us irritable and tired. Moreover, running 4 days a week gave us the impression that we were doing little else. As the weeks turned to months, Sharat took the decision to reduce 4 days of running to 3 days, which provided us some respite. And we upped the cross training from 1 day to 2 days to focus on core strengthening (weights, abs, lower back, power yoga, suryanamaskar etc). By now the distances were also increasing, and we realized that the focus of our existence had become “the marathon”. It was so all-consuming that no conversation was complete without a detailed discussion on my training with whoever came my way. Slowly people began avoiding me, or hurriedly excused themselves if I had managed to block their path. I was a woman possessed!

Our diets too had to be adjusted to make them healthier. I increased my fruit and vegetable intake, rice and other carbs as well as began taking a whey protein supplement. Besides (though not being a part of the diet), I coolly tucked into sweets and other calories while justifying to myself that I needed them to ensure that I didn’t collapse while running. And so well had I convinced myself that I was utterly shocked when the weighing machine showed a gain of 2.5 kgs!! Weight gain for a woman is often worse than divorce. And weight gain while training for a marathon was shameful – it was amply clear that I was binging. Immediate damage control was required!


RUN!


RUN!

PHEW!



The one thing I learnt during the training was that it required commitment above everything else. We had to run, run and run despite illnesses, late nights, stress at work, bad weather, anything. By the 15th week the schedule demanded that we cover 32 kms, the highest distance expected before D Day. Sunita and I had figured out a comfortable pace. Once the rhythm is set, one can go on for about 15-20 kms without too much trouble. But what happens after that is deadly. The legs ache, every step is a punishment and everybody makes you angry. Music on the i-pod grates in the ears, traffic and passersby are infuriating, and if someone comes in your way accidently he deserves to go to hell. To amuse ourselves Sunita and I gossiped for most part of our runs. Now I know more about her life than even Sharat! Besides, we also rated male runners who crossed us, on a scale of 10 to entertain ourselves further. But the entertainment worked only for some distance, after that, all one was left with was tired legs pounding on the roads, intolerable fatigue, excruciating pain in the lower limbs and an impatience to finish the agonising run. But what you feel when you have achieved your target is indescribable – the joy and pride of accomplishment is unparalleled.

There were several memorable experiences during our training. High up on the unpleasantness quotient were the episodes with the dogs! Dodging and avoiding routes where we had encountered them earlier was topmost on my agenda. They often jumped at us suddenly their teeth bared, snarling and growling viciously. I have learnt from running and biking on roads that the best way to get rid of the aggressive dogs is to stop dead in your tracks, even if their teeth are but an inch away from your calf. That has the immediate effect of pacifying the aggressive ferals. But it always breaks the running rhythm and wastes time. And of course, it always frightens me. In fact, once an overly friendly dog jumped on Sharat with front paws on his chest and tail wagging as though the dog had found his long-lost love. Thank god it didn’t do that to me, I might have had a cardiac arrest!

What’s more, the awe that we inspired in people when we mentioned that we were aiming for the full marathon was at the same time motivating and funny. Motivating, because showing-off comes easily to me and if people get genuinely impressed, it’s an easy stimulant. I’ll do anything for praise! And it was funny because people thought we were almost demi-gods, and I knew the fallacy of that thought. Moreover, crossing other runners all of who always encouraged us with a thumbs-up gesture and clapping was indeed motivating. We too learnt quickly to do the same thing, and I think Sunita and I clapped loudest when we crossed a well-built bare-bodied male runner near Kemp’s corner who got an immediate undisputed 10 out of 10 on our scale. If we got to see such ice-candy more often, running would be ever-so-easy! Time and again, we would set out really early in the morning when it was dark and the air was cold, fresh and crisp. Busy, noisy Mumbai would be still and quiet, the silence broken only by our shoes crunching the gravel below our feet. Slowly the sun would rise filling the sky with a glorious orange-pink hue and illuminating the city, bringing brightness and cheer into the lives of the millions who reside here – was a sight worth every difficult run.

Setting out before sunrise


Sunrise saw the sky turn to an orange-pink hue









Hydra will rear all her heads high up dangerously in less than 4 days! 16th Jan, a day on the calendar which has etched itself into even my unconscious mind. I’m so obsessed with completing the marathon now that my husband jokes that even in the dead of night he’s ready with a towel and a bottle of Gatorade for me! After every run, my 7 yr old daughter asks me how much distance I have covered and if I say anything lower than 20 kms, the little imp screws up her nose and says, “That’s it?” Even she is catching on to the marathon fever and frenzy. As we draw to a close of our training, it does seem like it’s a step closer to the fulfillment of a goal. However, even as I write, I have a strained muscle on my thigh and there’s a big worry doing the rounds that I may not be able to run at all. I finally understand what sports injuries are! But whoever said running a distance of 42 kms was easy, aches and pains are an integral part of the training as the body gets subjected to severe trauma. Nonetheless, I’m raring to go, with or without the muscle strain. I’ll be back with more!