As I Ran...
Marathon 2015
I had heard about it, had talked about it…now I was gonna smell it – the Standard Chartered Mumbai Marathon!
One of the biggest events of my life was going to unfold in 2 days, but I was not up to the spirits…whenever I’d done something that was very close to my soul, I’ve wanted my soul mates to be a part of it too. Directly or otherwise. But an argument with my loved ones had led to them not calling me up that day…Nothing made sense. Didn’t feel like preparing for the big event. Just slept over my depression. As usual my hubby came over to my rescue. He called up the‘disputed party ’ explaining to them how sad I felt about everything and they as if jumping out from a dream called me back immediately. As if nothing had happened. Forgiving me for everything I had said and done, as if nothing ever had happened. But that’s what loved ones are meant for, aren’t they? I could finally sleep peacefully, to wake up to the enthusiasm of the pre-race day.
I had a clear picture of what awaited me that day. Meeting Roshni and runner girls from all of India the Expo center in the WTC building; where we would be collecting our Bibs. But getting the goody bag (with so much of goodies in it!) came as a surprise to me. Me an
d my new found friend Nidhi gingerly went through them in the local train that we boarde d back home. Another nice thing to have happened to me that day was meeting her - Nidhi, a versatile p erson, who runs, paints, cycles, swims, does calligraphy, plays badm inton, TT, basket ball, kabaddi and everything else you can name!
Everything had gone according to plan except being able to sleep on time that night (due to the rush of the adrenaline flow, in short ‘excitement’.) Of course there was a person whom I could again turn for help. Waited impatiently for hubby to return, so that I could ask him ‘how should I fall asleep.’ No fool I am. My ‘Buddha’ had the answer -“There’ll be 30,000 people running, so stop giving too much importance to your self. It’s just an event. Every day is an event. 2 days back your depression
had stolen away your sleep and today your enthusiasm. Follow the middle path, be balanced.” I was lost in dreams in the next 10 mins.
I didn’t have to ask my hubby if he would accompany me to
the venue. He did that for every important occasion of my life. We had decided to pick up Nidhi on our way, but again a cousin had decided to join us and we had no clue how we’d be travelling; by road or train. Finally I decided to ask Nidhi to carry on without me as I didn’t want her to be late. The moment I messaged her, water accidently spilled over my cell phone, conking it off completely. Nidhs did you curse me?
Though I had hydrated and carbo-loaded my self very well in the last two days, I had Pasta and Oat meal and 3 bananas and 2 glasses of water and a glass of enerzal on the race morning.
We left the house only at 5.15am, and I was glad I hadn’t ask Nidhi to wait for me. Hubby said we should travel by train as that would take us to Bandra faster. I was skeptical but decided not to use my brains. I never did that when I could make him do it.
Missed the 5.32 train at Malad station by 20seconds and had to wait for another 6mins for the next one. However the sight of other runners walking up to the platform somewhat eased my nerves. Another runner girl was standing besides me and I was happy that the Bib I had pinned up to my T-shirt helped her in remembering she had forgotten hers at home. She called up somebody, blamed him (must be her hubby) for not making her remember to wear it and dashed back home to get it. Me and my husband got into a casual chat with other runners and fellow passengers all of whom seemed to be charged up about the event. Hubby particularly seemed happy to over hear a veteran runner talk peppily about his marathon experiences in train. Everybody except me seemed to be relaxed about how slow the train was moving. I had read it somewhere in the rule book that you wouldn’t be allowed in the holder’s area post 6.13 (though I didn’t really understand what holder’s area meant) and that for Standard Chartered Mumbai Marathon, Indian Standard Time did not apply. Adding to the fury, the train unexpectedly came to a halt after Santacruz station. And there I sat helplessly desperately wanting the railway officials who didn’t even know me to have mercy on me. When they did not for the next 3 mins, my focus shifted to my husband who would listen to my frustration calmly and speak sense into me when I calmed down. Of course the fault was all mine. It was me who lazed on bed for 15 mins even after waking up to ensure I’m not under-slept, it was me who had not packed my bag the previous night thinking that I’d been traveling light, it was me who wanted to carbo load herself extra well so that I have the energy to run the complete 21kms, and it was me who had woken up my husband only at 4.45am and then forced him to have tea before leaving; yet I blamed him for traveling by train and not road. Though I was only trying to vent my anger, I was completely aware I was wrong. To add to my fury he just nodded his head agreeing that it was his mistake. Man you are supposed to be angry so that I get angrier, I thought, but was secretly proud of him. Finally the train reached Bandra only at
6.13 am and to my surprise Mr. hubby sprinted away. What came as a flash was the Jab We Met scene when Shahid runs away from Kareena at the platform. And coincidentally the scene concluded the same way. He ran to an auto, asked me to push in and ordered the auto driver to speed away! I took a little time to reach though and kept wondering it was him and not me who should be running the Marathon today. Man he was super fast! Though I tried to apologize in my own way in the auto, he didn’t let me waste time while he was paying the driver. He asked me to sprint away to the destination shouting a quick all the best. I started running to the start point which was way too far from where the auto had to be stopped and kept running till I reached the finished point of 21 kms.
The watch on the start line showed 6.24 am when I crossed the first carpet where the timing chip was registered. I realized that I was running with the people who had come in late like me as the major groups must have already moved
ahead 14 mins earlier. The people next to me had mostly come to experience the spirit of the marathon. Somebody on stage, was it John Abraham?, was talking about how great a place Mumbai was, and I suddenly felt proud that I belonged here. I had forgotten my digital watch at home and my cell was still dead after the water accident, so I could not set the stop watch. I had sprinted till the start point, and when I remembered that, I was angry with myself for being this late. I had already used up a lot of energy in that sprint. Also the nerve just above my left leg bone got swollen for some reason, but that didn’t deter me much as I was focused on finishing the run, no matter what. But at least for the first 3 kms I couldn’t forgive myself for turning up late and hence having to mentally reschedule the strategy. I wanted to distract myself by listening to the songs, but my cell too had ditched me. However once I grabbed the water and the energy drinks from the lively volunteers and poured the water on my head gulping down the Gatorade, things just changed. As I hadn’t stopped or reduced by pace till now, my body had got in momentum. Suddenly I found myself prepared to face the distance ahead. Realization struck that if I wanted to finish it I had to let the bygones be bygones. I forgave myself for being late, promising never to repeat the same, I forgave myself for unnecessarily blurting out on my husband, promising to keep the patience that would ensure a smooth run on tracks and in life, I forgave my self for missing the training in the crucial month of December that had taken my stamina back to level zero. Instead I decided to be grateful for the successful Shahrukh Khan led television show we had completed successfully in that month. Everything had suddenly fallen in place. Or rather my mind had fallen in place. Now I was a part of the Marathon in its truest sense. It was now I was a part of the energy that was running with and around me. Now it was no more me, it was us.
As we ran through the Worli sea link, we came across a zee news reporter (or was it some other channel?) who was enthusiastically reporting the event. I’ve always found the news channels over enthusiastic and exaggerating. However the reporters ‘extra’ enthusiasm sounded just right and for the first time I felt that whatever he said (couldn’t hear much of him) definitely didn’t qualify as exaggeration.
It was from the first turn after running down the sea-link, that I became the witness to the famous spirit of the Mumbaikars associated with the Marathon ever since its conception. On a chilly Sunday morning, residents who’ve never had anything to do with us had walked down on the roads to offer us everything we would need – energy drinks, fruits, biscuits and chocolates. And mind you, from there they were queued up right till the finish. Amazing would be a lesser way to describe it. They were in all age groups, loads of children, loads of adults and loads of seniors. Everybody in the same spirit that we were in. Presence of children can be justified by their curiosity instinct. It was definitely
a stimulating and thrilling event for their fresh young minds. But what about the rest? The elderly had already been members of more thrilling experiences in the interesting life span they must have had. There definitely had to be some connection. Was it the sense of belonging to the same city, or country or species (read humanity) or all of it? I guessed it was some kind of love that stands undefined. Whatever it was, it was WoW!
My swollen nerve had automatically healed after 15kms. As I crossed the 17km marked, I remembered my runner friend Bipin telling me that last year he had felt tired after that distance. To my surprise I started feeling the same. I knew somewhere that it was just psychological. Thus in an instant I decided to deceit the mind which had always deceived me. I decided not to pay any heed to this naughty child – my mind, that kept changing the way it felt every moment. I felt alive again. I had already run across the Peddar road hill when everyone across me walked it. Luckily despite being tired, I wasn’t tempted to walk it. I knew if could run this hill I could run the entire distance. I was happy my cell wasn’t working, else would have definitely started listening to it to distract myself from listening to my slowly exhausting body. Somehow I perform better with music, but know it inside that a part of the credit belonged to the music director. However the laavnis, the performances on the stages and roads, the radio mirchi playing on the speakers and the people around didn’t provide any less entertainment. The residents never got tired of cheering for us, an important element that kept us going in the last difficult kilometers. The best cheer was from one of the college student who shouted ‘ hey boys when this girl is running why are you all walking.’
The girl had said it or not I wouldn’t have stopped or walked. I had promised myself to run the distance. The maximum I had run for the training was 11km, but I wanted to complete the distance and somehow I knew I would. I’ve always had this feeling it’s not your feet, but your mind that’s running which was proving perfect. The only thing I had to do was to keep my mind in check.
After the 19 km board I remembered I had dedicated this run to my husband. I hadn’t told him about it though. Neither had I told him till date how grateful I was to him for standing rock solid with me at all the times I would have fallen apart. I wanted to thank him for being my punching bag and my teddy bear; For knowing if ever I came across an hurdle impossible to overcome he’ll sail me across it. I remembered the five years we had spent as best buddy’s before tying the knot and was grateful that he had become an even better friend in our one year of marriage. I remembered the tough times we faced in our professions and how his inherent optimism had made it seem trivial. I remembered all the failures we never spoke about and the successes we celebrated. I wanted to thank him to be there even before I needed him.
Tears had just appeared in my eyes that practicality poked me - ‘dude I think finishing would be a better way of thanking than crying.’
It was the last 500 mts to go and I sprinted. I didn’t know what time it was, or how much time I had taken or what would be my final timing. I had just wanted to run the entire distance and I had done that. I had not relied on music, haven’t stopped or walked or given any heed to the pain in the leg. I had been loyal to myself.
As I saw the finish line from a 200mts distance I sprinted even faster. I knew my husband wouldn’t be there at the finish line, I had asked him to go home, my closest running friend Roshni couldn’t be there as she was running the 42kms. But I could sense someone waiting for me there. Someone standing there amongst the cheering crowd waiting to thank me for doing it. Someone hopeful of more glamorous runs in the future. I looked intently. Lo! It was me…I don’t know when the real me had flown away amidst the crowd.without my knowledge. It (or rather I)stood there watching all the drama unfold. From there I peacefully looked at myself running. It seemed pointless for a moment. From there I only seemed like a selfish woman running all for her own causes, coz she loved to run, coz she wanted to dedicate the run to her husband in a way that made her happy. But then wasn’t life just the same. I ran between the start line and the finish one because it made me happy. That’s just what we did between birth and death- trying to survive till we no longer can, ensuring our happiness in the process!
I was aware of every step which touched the final finish carpets. I was happy, I was grateful, I was content, I had matured. I crossed and hugged my other self which stood there. My real self was happy to meet the real me. As one of my runner friends Natasha had said, “ running peels off everything until you are left with nothing but just the real you.”
Marathon 2015
I had heard about it, had talked about it…now I was gonna smell it – the Standard Chartered Mumbai Marathon!
One of the biggest events of my life was going to unfold in 2 days, but I was not up to the spirits…whenever I’d done something that was very close to my soul, I’ve wanted my soul mates to be a part of it too. Directly or otherwise. But an argument with my loved ones had led to them not calling me up that day…Nothing made sense. Didn’t feel like preparing for the big event. Just slept over my depression. As usual my hubby came over to my rescue. He called up the‘disputed party ’ explaining to them how sad I felt about everything and they as if jumping out from a dream called me back immediately. As if nothing had happened. Forgiving me for everything I had said and done, as if nothing ever had happened. But that’s what loved ones are meant for, aren’t they? I could finally sleep peacefully, to wake up to the enthusiasm of the pre-race day.
I had a clear picture of what awaited me that day. Meeting Roshni and runner girls from all of India the Expo center in the WTC building; where we would be collecting our Bibs. But getting the goody bag (with so much of goodies in it!) came as a surprise to me. Me an
Everything had gone according to plan except being able to sleep on time that night (due to the rush of the adrenaline flow, in short ‘excitement’.) Of course there was a person whom I could again turn for help. Waited impatiently for hubby to return, so that I could ask him ‘how should I fall asleep.’ No fool I am. My ‘Buddha’ had the answer -“There’ll be 30,000 people running, so stop giving too much importance to your self. It’s just an event. Every day is an event. 2 days back your depression
I didn’t have to ask my hubby if he would accompany me to
the venue. He did that for every important occasion of my life. We had decided to pick up Nidhi on our way, but again a cousin had decided to join us and we had no clue how we’d be travelling; by road or train. Finally I decided to ask Nidhi to carry on without me as I didn’t want her to be late. The moment I messaged her, water accidently spilled over my cell phone, conking it off completely. Nidhs did you curse me?
Though I had hydrated and carbo-loaded my self very well in the last two days, I had Pasta and Oat meal and 3 bananas and 2 glasses of water and a glass of enerzal on the race morning.
We left the house only at 5.15am, and I was glad I hadn’t ask Nidhi to wait for me. Hubby said we should travel by train as that would take us to Bandra faster. I was skeptical but decided not to use my brains. I never did that when I could make him do it.
Missed the 5.32 train at Malad station by 20seconds and had to wait for another 6mins for the next one. However the sight of other runners walking up to the platform somewhat eased my nerves. Another runner girl was standing besides me and I was happy that the Bib I had pinned up to my T-shirt helped her in remembering she had forgotten hers at home. She called up somebody, blamed him (must be her hubby) for not making her remember to wear it and dashed back home to get it. Me and my husband got into a casual chat with other runners and fellow passengers all of whom seemed to be charged up about the event. Hubby particularly seemed happy to over hear a veteran runner talk peppily about his marathon experiences in train. Everybody except me seemed to be relaxed about how slow the train was moving. I had read it somewhere in the rule book that you wouldn’t be allowed in the holder’s area post 6.13 (though I didn’t really understand what holder’s area meant) and that for Standard Chartered Mumbai Marathon, Indian Standard Time did not apply. Adding to the fury, the train unexpectedly came to a halt after Santacruz station. And there I sat helplessly desperately wanting the railway officials who didn’t even know me to have mercy on me. When they did not for the next 3 mins, my focus shifted to my husband who would listen to my frustration calmly and speak sense into me when I calmed down. Of course the fault was all mine. It was me who lazed on bed for 15 mins even after waking up to ensure I’m not under-slept, it was me who had not packed my bag the previous night thinking that I’d been traveling light, it was me who wanted to carbo load herself extra well so that I have the energy to run the complete 21kms, and it was me who had woken up my husband only at 4.45am and then forced him to have tea before leaving; yet I blamed him for traveling by train and not road. Though I was only trying to vent my anger, I was completely aware I was wrong. To add to my fury he just nodded his head agreeing that it was his mistake. Man you are supposed to be angry so that I get angrier, I thought, but was secretly proud of him. Finally the train reached Bandra only at
6.13 am and to my surprise Mr. hubby sprinted away. What came as a flash was the Jab We Met scene when Shahid runs away from Kareena at the platform. And coincidentally the scene concluded the same way. He ran to an auto, asked me to push in and ordered the auto driver to speed away! I took a little time to reach though and kept wondering it was him and not me who should be running the Marathon today. Man he was super fast! Though I tried to apologize in my own way in the auto, he didn’t let me waste time while he was paying the driver. He asked me to sprint away to the destination shouting a quick all the best. I started running to the start point which was way too far from where the auto had to be stopped and kept running till I reached the finished point of 21 kms. The watch on the start line showed 6.24 am when I crossed the first carpet where the timing chip was registered. I realized that I was running with the people who had come in late like me as the major groups must have already moved
As we ran through the Worli sea link, we came across a zee news reporter (or was it some other channel?) who was enthusiastically reporting the event. I’ve always found the news channels over enthusiastic and exaggerating. However the reporters ‘extra’ enthusiasm sounded just right and for the first time I felt that whatever he said (couldn’t hear much of him) definitely didn’t qualify as exaggeration.
The girl had said it or not I wouldn’t have stopped or walked. I had promised myself to run the distance. The maximum I had run for the training was 11km, but I wanted to complete the distance and somehow I knew I would. I’ve always had this feeling it’s not your feet, but your mind that’s running which was proving perfect. The only thing I had to do was to keep my mind in check.
After the 19 km board I remembered I had dedicated this run to my husband. I hadn’t told him about it though. Neither had I told him till date how grateful I was to him for standing rock solid with me at all the times I would have fallen apart. I wanted to thank him for being my punching bag and my teddy bear; For knowing if ever I came across an hurdle impossible to overcome he’ll sail me across it. I remembered the five years we had spent as best buddy’s before tying the knot and was grateful that he had become an even better friend in our one year of marriage. I remembered the tough times we faced in our professions and how his inherent optimism had made it seem trivial. I remembered all the failures we never spoke about and the successes we celebrated. I wanted to thank him to be there even before I needed him.
It was the last 500 mts to go and I sprinted. I didn’t know what time it was, or how much time I had taken or what would be my final timing. I had just wanted to run the entire distance and I had done that. I had not relied on music, haven’t stopped or walked or given any heed to the pain in the leg. I had been loyal to myself.
As I saw the finish line from a 200mts distance I sprinted even faster. I knew my husband wouldn’t be there at the finish line, I had asked him to go home, my closest running friend Roshni couldn’t be there as she was running the 42kms. But I could sense someone waiting for me there. Someone standing there amongst the cheering crowd waiting to thank me for doing it. Someone hopeful of more glamorous runs in the future. I looked intently. Lo! It was me…I don’t know when the real me had flown away amidst the crowd.without my knowledge. It (or rather I)stood there watching all the drama unfold. From there I peacefully looked at myself running. It seemed pointless for a moment. From there I only seemed like a selfish woman running all for her own causes, coz she loved to run, coz she wanted to dedicate the run to her husband in a way that made her happy. But then wasn’t life just the same. I ran between the start line and the finish one because it made me happy. That’s just what we did between birth and death- trying to survive till we no longer can, ensuring our happiness in the process!
I was aware of every step which touched the final finish carpets. I was happy, I was grateful, I was content, I had matured. I crossed and hugged my other self which stood there. My real self was happy to meet the real me. As one of my runner friends Natasha had said, “ running peels off everything until you are left with nothing but just the real you.”
Comments
Post a Comment