Dr George Sheehan wrote in his essay, Marathon – A Stage for Heroism; “World-class runners approach the marathon with trepidation. Olympians fail to finish. Record holders collapse. This contest has consequences in pain and exhaustion unrivaled in sport. The end of the marathon-and the end of heroism-is always just one step away. You can stop anytime you like.”
I registered for the Standard Chartered Mumbai Marathon held on 21st Jan, 2007, to run my 7th full marathon. I had run 2 half marathons in the 3 months before this event, which indicated that I was a much faster runner this year. As luck would have it, things went wrong - as they sometimes do, in a race of this length.
My first mistake – I drank 2 cups of coffee (at Café coffee Day) just before the start. My second mistake - I passed up drinking Gatorade in the first 10 kms because the coffee was sloshing around in my stomach. I had just ignored the most important law of marathoning – don’t do anything new on race day!! My mistake showed at the 14km mark - I reached 3 mins after my target time. At the 23 km mark (Bandra Reclamation) I was slower by 8 mins and there was no chance of making up this difference as any marathoner knows. My stomach had now churned and taken a somersault. I held on and tried to sip Gatorade (which my kind brother-in-law handed out to me) even though my body was refusing it. At the 32 km mark, I realized I was slowing down due to dehydration as my blood was turning to sludge!
I resolved to finish this marathon without walking. The heat was full blast with the baked asphalt scalding my feet thru’ the soles of my shoes. The final 10 kms to the finish were excruciatingly painful as I felt my body racked in agony. It was all I could do to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. I took recourse to Dr Tim Noakes’ words on Mid-race problem solving; “Extreme fatigue is, by itself, not a reason to quit. Much of the marathon battle is mental anyway. Should you quit, remember there is no second chance”.
And so, I trudged up the unending climb at the 35K point (Pedder Road), crying out as my calves turned to toast. With a prayer on my lips I saw the 38 km marker pass by inexorably. Never did 4 km to the finish seem such an eternity. I was now wheezing as I felt the burn in my lungs. Devils danced in the heat waves taunting me to lie down by the wayside and rest. My body screamed for deliverance but I held on. With 2 kms to go (Ambassador Hotel turn), a half marathoner I had trained was waiting for me after his finish, jogging alongside and shouting, even as he saw the pain writ clearly on my face; “Sir, keep moving its not too far”. I gasped out at him that, at the finish line, I’d like medical attention. Soon, I saw the finish line in the distance and heard the roar of encouragement from the crowd. What is it about the finish line that gets you to sprint even though a min ago you felt wasted? The faces were a blur as I crossed the finish in 4:23:26. I staggered to the medical tent with office colleagues, to find heavenly relief in ice bags covering me, waist down. In Dr Sheehan’ words, I had finished the marathon - and chose to be a hero rather than give up mid-race.
