My Mumbai Marathon experience : Part 2

(Read Part 1 here: My experience: Part 1 )

My feet were throbbing with tiredness as well as the blisters. We went past the Hanging Gardens and turned turned right towards Babulnath Temple. Another 200 mts and I would be on Marine Drive; but the blisters on both feet were pinching me inside the shoes.

You realise the vastness of the drive and it's circularity. When you enter this road, suddenly, you are in the sun, thus far protected by tall buildings. By the time you cross Churney Road station, the sun is directly hitting you in the eye and then you are in the shade again. A little before the New Yorker and Ideal Cafe junction, a mist-tent was set up. This is a pretty neat thing, wherein, even as you run you can go through a tunnel of slow spray of a mist, bringing you instant relief albeit temporary.

3 more km to go! These are the longest miles of the half marathon. At this time, you are mustering every ounce of will to move on. The hamstrings are beginning to talk, the feet are crying for respite, the random sweat bead getting into the eye burns like acid and your head is throbbing. But the crowds takeover. Several cheering squads on all sides representing Radio Stations, The Navy, some charities etc, I pass by even as I look to my right ino the sky to spot a low flying helicopter, probably, carrying media crew.

Beyond the Inter-Continental Marine hotel, the density of spectators build up. And by the time you turn at Pizza By The Bay (erstwhile Jazz By The Bay) crowds takeover. By this time the Dream Runners are flooding the other side of the road, followed by charities and sponsors' volunteers. We hear the loud siren like that of a police van, but really a media bus leading some of the full marathoners. The winners must be already past the finish line, I calculate.

By this time, the milestone markers are cleverly designed to say the distance that is remaining to be covered, rather than the insofar markers which displayed the distance covered. This does play big on the mind, favourably so. You are trying to muster up the last few bars of energy left in you and give it the final push. I hear someone complain there are no water stations in the last two KMs. Fair enough, my mind was elsewhere but the point is valid.

Entering the last turn, the last 600 meters toward Azad Maidan, you eyes are set on the distant clock over the finish line. OK, I can see a digital dance happening on the display. It's definitely broken. I break into a sprint, just so that I can feel I ran with gusto across the finish line. I can feel myself making a big effort, but the output was not as big as expected. Clearly, the energy is waning.

I slow down as I cross the finish line and feel a slight tug in my left hamstring. About time I started slow stretches, I think. My second Half Marathon has just come to an end.

My Mumbai Marathon experience : Part 1

At Five in the morning of the Sunday, the air in Mumbai was chill. I expected it to feel less colder. I had taken a cold water, maybe 10 C, shower just a short while back.

I stepped into the cab dressed in a cotton crew neck, running tights, loose shorts and running shoes with the Blackberry tucked away in my armband.At that time of the day, it took me about 15 minutes to cover the distance it takes 90 minutes in peak hour traffic.

This would be my second time at the Mumbai Marathon, doing the half marathon. The second time, what helps you is remembering that you have done the 21.09 km before.

As I stepped into the runners' waiting area, the excitement was palpable. There is something about running groups giving tempo shouts, stretching, spot jogging that gets your adrenalin pumped up and puts your mind into the running mode. You want to start running right away, forgetting the pace you have planned. I bumped into Pramod Singh of PGPX (With a target time of 2 hours), who was here with his classmates and then also happened to meet a former colleague. The buzz of the crowd grew into a loud cackle by the time we closed in on 6, the first flag off. I was in the 615 flag off.

As we passed the starting point, I made sure I stepped on the RFID sensor mat. Among the dozens of beeps from the runners stepping over, my starting time too must have got registered. Once the starting point is behind you, the road ahead is pitch dark, as you go in the direction of the Sea Link. Onto the Sea Link, I paced into a brisk walk and looked over my left shoulder. An orange streak of light was pushing its way through hues of grey, black and deep blue sky behind the silhouette of the Mahim/Worli skyline. Sunrise was not far away.

"Mama, should I run for the president" lines by Pink Floyd were flowing into my ears as I crossed the mid point of the Sea Link. Downhill, I resisted the temptation to break into a sprint. At 4 km, it was not the part of the plan.

As we turned onto the INS Strata circle, I realised that the route had been slightly changed this year. They took us deeper into Mahim/Worli and brought us back to Sea Face.  By this time, I had started to alternate between a jog and brisk walk. I noticed that many who were doing the half marathon for probably the first time were doing the same mistakes I had committed last year. They had started running at the starting-gun and now they were starting to slow down, getting tired.

By the time we double backed onto Worli exit of the Sea Link, we had covered 9 KM.I felt a pinch in the arch of my my right foot. I realised what it was but could not understand why a blister should form with all controlled factors - shoes, socks etc. Anyway, it was to be only ignored. 12 more km to finish line.As if on cue, 'Shine on you crazy diamond' was beating into my ears egging me on.

As we approached Annie Besant Road, the Kenyan-Ethiopian contingent was seen running towards us on the other side of the road. Such a delight it is to watch them! Like a gust of wind, the 9 athlete group runs together in unison at an average 20 kmph. All of us cheered at the equine squadron, as the media van and bike escort that were following them zoomed past us. Louder cheers followed for the Indian male and female runners.

Crossing the Atria Mall on Annie Besant road, I realised I was falling behind the 4-5 people who had seemed to be sharing my pace. I started jogging a little faster. I was soon discouraged by another pinch under the ball of my left foot and a stronger pinch around my left pinkie toe. We were past the 14 km mark by now.

Two-thirds done, another 7 km to go. Just as we cross the Haji Ali signal, you are reminded of the treacherous climb up Peddar Road, past the Mahalaxmi Temple. I also looked at my hands. They were swollen. When you walk or run at a stretch fluid accumulates in the feet and hands. My feet were feeling tighter in my shoes.

The last 4 miles are the slowest. The Peddar Road incline is the first speed breaker at the 15th km. I decided, I would adjust pace and climb with long strides to miminise the frequency of contact on the ground. I soon realised this would not work for too long. Time for some water. A little girl was offering glasses of water in two hands. I grabbed both of them. I also noticed that as against Worli Sea Face neighborhood volunteers, the Peddar road crowd had placed dustbins to drop used glasses and other trash.The cheers were louder on this stretch as well.

By this time, I guess the crowd realises, the runner has the first thoughts of whether she will be able to complete the half marathon start creeping into your mind. The words and claps of the spectators go a long way in reminding 'you have done well, keep going'. An old Parsi lady who stood on the road divider, looked at me and said something like 'Darling, you look like you ...' Between Akon and the general cheering her words were lost on me. But the man in orange T Shirt, ahead of me and a couple of others heard and I could see they smiled. The Orange T Shirt turned around and looked at my forehead. The lady had probably commented on the salt grains that had formed on my head and cheeks.

As I looked up at the most expensive and the most ugly private residential building in Mumbai. I was thinking "Maybe there is that point where people have so much money that they run out of ideas how to use it well. Or maybe it is just that they have so much more of it, it just doesn't matter to them."

(Continued in Part 2, here: My experience: Part 2)