When one decides to run a marathon for the first time in their life, they are either challenging themselves to overcome an invisible barrier or continue through and complete a runner's desire to express their love for the sport. While I started off in the second category having done a few half marathons, I did not realize until I crossed that finish line that wherever you start, you always run to freedom at the end.
Yes, as they say, the toughest part of running a marathon is in the training that precedes it; but then again , not all of us follow through and execute plans on schedule. I took the risk of hardly training for 6 months, but just ran once in a while to enjoy the beauty of nature's breath. Having crossed the line,I know how it feels when you are carried away in the inertia of running and how you get overwhelmed with a sense of joyousness it generates. Can I confidently conclude that it is probably the easiest way to experience bliss on earth? Not half, but an entire marathon is run in the mind.
It was an evening of good fun and chatter as I stretched every facial muscle and enjoyed dinner at a way side restaurant with people dear to me: my parents, family and fiancée. We drove me to my sister's place to rest for the night. As I said earlier, its all in the mind: When I had my doubts, my fiancée prepped me "Its possible". I used some nervous energy in pinning the bib on to my shorts on the night prior to the d-day, but slept away to glory dreaming of crossing across a yellow finish tape that never existed. Before I knew, it was morning and the nervous energy was still alive urging me to hydrate, pack in some proteins and head into the city.
We(me and my motivating fiancée) rolled on to the metro towards pentagon. I had had a unusual can of mangosteen juice that I had picked up at the exposition the previous day: It was like 4 packs of red bull loaded with soda. I was overjoyed to see runners and only runners abroad the orange line that was now as colorful as it could get from the inside. I realized that it would be a packed journey as all seats filled up at West Falls Church. The train driver kept us in a light vein with repeated instructions to avoid over crowding and targeted jokes at bike riders who were unaware of the event that was about to happen in the nation's capital: the peoples marathon.
It took us 15 minutes to walk out of a metro which reminded me of Mumbai's packed railway stations ; but then there was no inconvenience of rubbing against sweaty bodies without body sprays on them. The escalator broke midway and made us move our legs in a motion that would repeat itself for 20 odd miles later that day. It was a pleasant day with energy awash: I was bouncing up and down as they warmed us up with some heart pumping music. It was ironic that my fiancée had all my butterflies in her stomach after convincing me that I was all set. I indeed was.
I moved myself to the end of the line and repeatedly told myself that I wouldn't exceed a 12 min pace.I was a tad bit inexperienced at this game: I had never run past a 16 mile marker in the 31 years of my life preceding this day. It was a feeling of simple runner's joy when I started off. When I crossed Rosslyn metro, I knew I was on to something special. When we entered the woods around Spout Run, I knew I couldnt expect to see my fiancee until Mile 10. Was I running to the finish line or to her?The cool winds by the river front in Georgetown brought in a pleasantness anew.
The rock creek parkway was greenery not seen in planned cities, but more in uninhabited jungles. The hug at mile 10 energized me resetting the freshness level of my legs to mile 0. The run around the tidal basin was undoubtedly the most scenic part of the entire course bringing on a cool breeze that purged the heat from a body in true inertia (yes, when you run continuously for a few hours, you forget how to walk). Running towards the capitol and back towards the obelisk called Washington's monument, I was filled with memories of the cherry blossom festival that had been a standing event on my annual calendar for the past 6 years.
Hitting the wall is something I didn't believe in until then. Leaving memories of the monument behind I started carrying some iron in my legs. I started to feel some cramps in my quads. I stopped and I stretched. I had a sense of satisfaction prior to crossing the bridge at mile 20 as I had made it to the bridge before the 'bus of shame' arrived to pick its cargo.
The run into Crystal City where I had planned to meet up with My Cousin Anand earlier in the year didnt materialize. My honey caught me right on around the loop next to the Crystal City metro. She gave me all the energy needed to complete the remaining 3 miles. I did believe I can fly.
The last three were the toughest for a very strange reason which turned into a feeling of exhaustion and sunk into me like an anchor plunged in clear water: Einstein's theory of relativity. I was running in a sea of 'sinking legs', with a band of 'dead runners' who were all walking and sometimes trudging along probably having exhausted all available glycogen early on. I steeled my mind, closed my eyes and pushed myself past this depressing yet fighting crowd unto the finish line dropping my speed by a steady half a minute per mile over the second half of the course.
It was a moment of pride being garlanded a medal by a Marine. My heart swelled up with emotion on seeing my fiancee and brother in law with a reflection on their faces of joy and pride of what was within me.Now,they did get it right when they said prode goes before a fall: It was more than a few minutes for me to get lost and found, borrow cell phones and make distress calls before I rejoined the retinue. My nephews were more excited than everyone. We had a fun time warming down with a walk up the hill into Clarendon. Some spicy Mexican food at California Tortilla in Courthouse was followed by some cold Oktoberfest: I felt invincible. It wasnt before 8 pm that my legs started complaining.
From now on, any recovery will remind me of the warmth one experiences when wrapped in a finisher's foil ,garlanded by a Marine, who reminds you of what it all means on the freeway to freedom: 'Pain is temporary. Pride is forever'
