If I look at my running log and see the repeated and consecutive failed long runs, I'd think that I was possessed by sheer lunacy when I registered for the Hyderabad Marathon. However, it was a deep-seated desire to see myself thru' this and find out whether I could push the envelope and banish the failures of the past few weeks. Relish the bad training runs. Without them it's difficult to recognize, much less appreciate, the good ones - Pat Teske
I arrived at Hyderabad late evening and was met by an old friend, Kumar, who hovered around wondering whether we would do a few beers. I chuckled and told Kumar that beers are not the best thing for my present condition and that I need to sink into a meditative state for a race that is different compared to the ones I have done before. And so I ate a dinner of fried rice and curd (to help my tummy remain calm) and slept early because the alarm was set for 3:30am. Most of my friends think we, marathoners are a breed that revel in self-flegellation, an opinion that is not entirely ridiculous.
Race venue at 4:45am and I hi-5 Madhu, Roshni and their friend, Hema, much to their surprise. They are here to do the half marathon and have target times that are keeping them on edge. The race begins without much fanfare except for a group warm-up to loud thumping pop music before the start. There is a large contingent of the AP Police and everyone just zips ahead leaving me to wonder whether this race has an unreasonable time limit and whether I am the only plodder. It appears so as I look back and find that I, along with two other runners seem to be bringing up the rear!
We do a 5K loop around KBR Park which has inclines that shock and depress me. We come full circle back to the start point and I am comforted to find scores of runners now, many of them seem to be walking. It is then that I realise that the half marathon has been flagged off a while ago and the walkers are the ambitious lot that registered for the "kick" of saying they are "doing the Hyd Half":-) I wave out to Roshni who is returning from a out and back loop and catch up with Madhu, who I can tell from my watch, is quite on pace. At the 16K mark I hand over my water bottle to a woman that seems out of breath and whose entreaties for water in a UK accent unsettle me. At 23K I catch up with Rajat (IIT-Alumni) who is doing the HM (he is on his 18K mark) and we exchange muted greetings, allowing each to focus on the daunting task ahead.
The full marathoners are now required to take a diversion and do a 5K to reach back on the common route, thus covering 28K. The sun is out with a vengeance and its getting uncomfortably warm. I get a momentary scare when my legs slow down and I panic that I am not going to last. I am not sure whether it was the continuous nutrition I began taking in or whether it was the ample fluids I took at every aid station, thoughfully placed every 2K, that mitigated the exhaustion. I suddenly felt strong and was cruising at 30K when I suddenly realised I had the AP Police motor cycle escort alongside me. We were now at the Gachobowli stadium where the HM runners turn off to go in for the finish while we have to go ahead and do another 12K:-(
I am now apprehensive about the "wall" coming up but because of my strong strides, I am sure it will hit me later than the expected 32K mark. I am now passing by runners that were far ahead of me, hobbling because they have run into the "wall". The motorcycle escort, perhaps because of my strong condition, pull back to take care of the less fortunate runners. I am hi-5'ed by an RFL guy that is astonished that I caught up with him. Its not that I speeded up; its just that he slowed down and was in real pain. I cruised thru' the 36K mark and briefly lost my way but was corrected by a cop. The "wall" hit me now and I felt my breath going raspy and my legs suddenly feeling leaden. By the time I reached the 39K mark there were 4 other runners that I'd shuffled past and I refused to walk.
The next two km markers passed inexorably and after what seemed like an eternity. I was with bowed head now as I felt my gas tank going dry and I had to wrestle with my brain for that wee bit of glycogen that remains in reserve. The pride you gain is worth the pain - Denise Ogilvy. A fellow runner now moves ahead of me and mutters encouragement with "only 1K to go, c'mon". I would like to keep up with him but my legs simply refuse and I see him find his groove for a fast finish. I smile as I turn towards the stadium and know my good friends Madhu & Roshni are waiting. I did not keep them waiting too long, after all, as I turn into the stadium and speed up the last 100m to the finish line and cross myself after seeing my watch stop at 4:23:53. I had taken a risk and it had paid off.
To win without risk is to triumph without glory - Pierre Cornielle
I arrived at Hyderabad late evening and was met by an old friend, Kumar, who hovered around wondering whether we would do a few beers. I chuckled and told Kumar that beers are not the best thing for my present condition and that I need to sink into a meditative state for a race that is different compared to the ones I have done before. And so I ate a dinner of fried rice and curd (to help my tummy remain calm) and slept early because the alarm was set for 3:30am. Most of my friends think we, marathoners are a breed that revel in self-flegellation, an opinion that is not entirely ridiculous.
Race venue at 4:45am and I hi-5 Madhu, Roshni and their friend, Hema, much to their surprise. They are here to do the half marathon and have target times that are keeping them on edge. The race begins without much fanfare except for a group warm-up to loud thumping pop music before the start. There is a large contingent of the AP Police and everyone just zips ahead leaving me to wonder whether this race has an unreasonable time limit and whether I am the only plodder. It appears so as I look back and find that I, along with two other runners seem to be bringing up the rear!
We do a 5K loop around KBR Park which has inclines that shock and depress me. We come full circle back to the start point and I am comforted to find scores of runners now, many of them seem to be walking. It is then that I realise that the half marathon has been flagged off a while ago and the walkers are the ambitious lot that registered for the "kick" of saying they are "doing the Hyd Half":-) I wave out to Roshni who is returning from a out and back loop and catch up with Madhu, who I can tell from my watch, is quite on pace. At the 16K mark I hand over my water bottle to a woman that seems out of breath and whose entreaties for water in a UK accent unsettle me. At 23K I catch up with Rajat (IIT-Alumni) who is doing the HM (he is on his 18K mark) and we exchange muted greetings, allowing each to focus on the daunting task ahead.
The full marathoners are now required to take a diversion and do a 5K to reach back on the common route, thus covering 28K. The sun is out with a vengeance and its getting uncomfortably warm. I get a momentary scare when my legs slow down and I panic that I am not going to last. I am not sure whether it was the continuous nutrition I began taking in or whether it was the ample fluids I took at every aid station, thoughfully placed every 2K, that mitigated the exhaustion. I suddenly felt strong and was cruising at 30K when I suddenly realised I had the AP Police motor cycle escort alongside me. We were now at the Gachobowli stadium where the HM runners turn off to go in for the finish while we have to go ahead and do another 12K:-(
I am now apprehensive about the "wall" coming up but because of my strong strides, I am sure it will hit me later than the expected 32K mark. I am now passing by runners that were far ahead of me, hobbling because they have run into the "wall". The motorcycle escort, perhaps because of my strong condition, pull back to take care of the less fortunate runners. I am hi-5'ed by an RFL guy that is astonished that I caught up with him. Its not that I speeded up; its just that he slowed down and was in real pain. I cruised thru' the 36K mark and briefly lost my way but was corrected by a cop. The "wall" hit me now and I felt my breath going raspy and my legs suddenly feeling leaden. By the time I reached the 39K mark there were 4 other runners that I'd shuffled past and I refused to walk.
The next two km markers passed inexorably and after what seemed like an eternity. I was with bowed head now as I felt my gas tank going dry and I had to wrestle with my brain for that wee bit of glycogen that remains in reserve. The pride you gain is worth the pain - Denise Ogilvy. A fellow runner now moves ahead of me and mutters encouragement with "only 1K to go, c'mon". I would like to keep up with him but my legs simply refuse and I see him find his groove for a fast finish. I smile as I turn towards the stadium and know my good friends Madhu & Roshni are waiting. I did not keep them waiting too long, after all, as I turn into the stadium and speed up the last 100m to the finish line and cross myself after seeing my watch stop at 4:23:53. I had taken a risk and it had paid off.
To win without risk is to triumph without glory - Pierre Cornielle
