The Marathon Story: Part 2

The morning arrived soon enough. Two alarms went off at 3.30 am. I was sufficiently on edge that I'd have gotten up even if the alarms hadn't rung. I had probably slept for about 5 hrs or so - and fitfully at that - but I wasn't feeling too sleepy. The adrenalin had already started to kick in.

As I got ready, I guzzled down some semi-cold coffee - a bottle of starbucks frappucino. I needed to get some caffeine into my system, but was highly suspicious of the coffee at the hotel - so I had done the smart thing and stocked up on the "frappucino". No, this wasn't "fresh" coffee, but this was a "tried and tested" drink for me - I knew from past experience that it had just enough of milk, sugar and coffee and fairly agreeable taste, to get me going. I also had my first meal of the day - one of those "magic" bars.

I stepped out on to the hotel lobby around 5am. The lobby was already buzzing with other runners. You could especially not miss the "Team In Training(TNT)" people - these are the group of folks who run to raise funds for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society (There are TNT chapters in various cities around the US, and you'll find TNT folks at most marathons in the country). You could see one of the TNT coaches walking around and checking in on the various runners in the Team - it seemed like a big boisterous family. There was a good deal of energy and enthusiasm in the air- mainly thanks to these folks, and some of that rubbed off on the others as well.

We hopped into the shuttle bus (which was to take us to the starting line) around 5.10 or so. A gentleman named Paul Cowley settled in beside me. When he found out that I was from Santa Cruz, he told me that his first marathon was the Big Sur Intl. Marathon from a few years ago ("Big Sur" is this spectacular coastal redwood region south of where I live - and the Big Sur Marathon is a tough race with a good deal of fairly hilly stuff). He said that he got into running kinda late in life, but now is a regular marathoner, running 3-4 marathons per year. Upon hearing that it was my first marathon, he said - "well, this marathon business, you know, can get kinda addictive".

We reached the starting line in Folsom, around 6am or so - that was a fairly long bus ride! The course is one-way, which means that the starting point is 26.2 miles away from the finish line (which is where our hotels were). And our job over the course of the morning would be to retrace our steps back. It was a crisp, chilly morning - low 30s. The sun hadn't risen yet - the sky was still dark. Luckily, there was no howling wind, unlike the case the previous day. I was especially happy with my decision to carry gloves at that moment. I saw Roger and Doug, and we exchanged stories as we stood there shivering. We looked around for others from the track club. Huge lines were already starting to form at the gazillions of port-a-potties. Everyone was carrying what looked like a trash-bag, with their bib numbers written on them. It was a rather funny sight - until you realized what these bags were for. These were our "sweat bags"; before starting the race, we were supposed to put any extra clothes (and we were all wearing many layers to keep warm) in them and drop them off in the buses - which would carry them to the finish line.

Soon it was time to assemble at the starting line. There were nearly 6000 people. While this is much smaller than many popular marathons (which feature upto 40,000 people), 6000 is still a fairly big number, and it made for a nice atmosphere. "Cristy's group" - myself, Roger, Doug, Debbie, and Esther, assembled together - we were in good spirits. A few of us were wearing a "pace-band" - this was something we had made based on a pace-chart Greg Hales made for us “4-hr-marathoners”, and this laid out, for each mile, the target min/mile pace and the cumulative time at the end of that particular mile. This was to ensure that we stayed on pace to meet our goal and didn't take off too fast. Another thing about this race was that it featured "pace-team leaders". These were people who committed to finishing at a particular time - for example, there was a 3:30 pace team leader, a 4:45 pace-team leader etc. If your goal was to finish the race at say 3hrs 30min, all you needed to do was to hang with the 3:30 pace leader. These were "elite-runners", which meant that they would run smart, and knew how to manage effort and energy to ensure that you didn't crash and burn half-way through the run. All these folks carried a little red placard with the time written on it. So we knew that we needed to be in the general vicinity of the 4:00 pace-team leader - Bill Finkbeiner, and look out for the 4:00 placard.

We started off, crossing the starting line maybe a minute after the gun went off. Cristy's words "don't take off too fast!" kept playing over and over in my head, and so I consciously started off slow, telling myself - "Im just warming up". The sun had just started to come out - it was going to be a beautiful day. You couldn't really run with any kind of rythm in the first mile, since the crowd was rather thick, we hadn't spread out yet. My usual instinct would have been to weave through the crowd to get some separation - but we had been advised about that too (that that would be a waste of energy), and so, instead we just held back and took it easy.

The first mile marker came, and we checked our watches - we were about a minute-and-a-half slower than planned! Well, atleast we could rest-assured that we did not "go out too fast". It was a going to be a long race, and we'd have more than enough time to make up the extra minute. The second and third miles were a bit chaotic. I missed the second mile marker, and ended up wondering whether I was running too slow. The five of us spread out. I ended up picking it up in the third mile, a bit faster than planned, and realized it when the third-mile marker came up sooner than expected. I still wasn't running with any kind of rythm.

It was in the next mile that the 4:00 pace-leader became visible. There was a big pack of folks right behind him. Soon enough, all five of us ended up in this pack, and we were running together. I finally could feel that some kind of rhythm was setting in; we had overcome the initial jitters and were starting to have fun. The next three or four miles went by in a breeze. We were passing through small residential towns - the neighborhoods were nice, with lots of trees and such. The streets were lined with a sprinkling of people who had come by to cheer. Water stations were coming up every two miles or so. I stopped at about every other water stop. I made it a point to slow down to a walk, take the time to drink properly, and then resume running. This allowed me to rest a little bit at the water stops, as well as get the drink actually inside, instead of spilling it all over my shirt. (which I would end up doing in the latter half of the race as motor control became a challenge). The mile markers were put up in these huge flags, which you could spot from a quarter-of-a-mile out - and it kinda made the miles feel shorter.

The half-marathon point came, and it was great to see my parents out there. Halfway through, and we were going strong and nice. The road took a huge turn just past the half marathon point, and this stretch was lined with people on both sides, cheering. Over the next few miles, the chatter died down. It was amazing that there were still 15-20 of us sticking with Bill, the 4:00 pacer. It felt like if you just managed to get into the group, the group would be able to carry you along – psychologically, it felt like the equivalent of “drafting” in a bicycle race.

[Hanging in with the "4:00" group]

The mind games started around miles 18/19. I started worrying about whether I had too much or too little water to drink. For a mile or so, I'd feel like I was too full of water, and skip a water stop - only to feel dehydrated in the next mile and restlessly look forward to the next water stop. “Rats! I should have avoided that “2x caffeine” GU. I bet that's what's making me feel dehydrated”. And so on.

At mile 20, the marathon organizers had installed a mock “wall” to represent the physical/psychological “wall” that athletes hit in the fag end of long-distance runs. I hit no "wall", but it certainly was a different race, those last 6.2 miles. Miles 21-25 were mentally and physically the most exhausting, time slowed down to a crawl and the miles passed by slower than ever. I wasn't hurting, just feeling drained. I kept telling myself - "4 more miles! That should be a piece of cake! Come on!" - but those miles felt like nothing else. I no longer had the energy to hold a conversation, or even listen to one. I didn't have the energy to look around. Or even look at my watch. All I could do was put one foot in front of the other. And keep the red 4:00 placard within sight. One step at a time.

I had run out of things to look forward to – I had my fill of GU, and felt repulsed at the thought of any more of that super-sweet gooey stuff. I craved for some solid food. Magically, a plate of cut bananas appeared, thanks to a neighborhood marathon spectator – boy, was that good. I remember contemplating for half-a-mile about wwhat to do with the peel. And then decided to leave it on the side of the road. I sure hope no one slipped on it..

Roger was forging slightly ahead of the pack - he was looking good. I had lost sight of Doug and Esther, and felt a little guilty for not sticking together after the half-marathon point. However, I and Debbie were right next to Mr. 4:00. In those last miles, he was virtually carrying us. The advantages of having an elite-runner amongst you became apparent. I remember thinking in the early going that he wasn't running fast enough. But now all of that conservative running was paying off.

It was after we crossed Mile 25 that a sense of “the end”being imminent started sinking in . I felt really lucky to be this close to achieving something this cool. That thought crystallized further as the crowds thickened again, as we approached the finish. Diane and Jan from track were there, cheering. Lo and behold, the mile 26 marker! If only I could describe my feelings upon seeing that sign. My dad was there, and he took a picture. Then he himself started sprinting to the finish line. Jeez, I should be able to run faster than that!

I and Debbie finally split at the very end (see pic on the left) – as the men and women had different finish zones (why, I wonder). And I sprinted through to the finish, and finished standing. There was everyone – my mom and dad. My friends - Jayanth, Madhuri, Yasser and Carol - everyone with huge smiles on their faces. I probably had one on as well. The clock said 4:01:20 – but I knew that my chip time was terribly close to 4:00:00 (it would turn out to be 4:00:06). I didn't have any energy left to stand, or speak, or walk, I was getting stiffer by the second. I finally held on to someone, found my sweat-clothes. And my friend handed me some mandarin oranges and a cup of hot tea from a flask! It was divine. Woohoo! I'd done it.

Debbie and my times were almost exactly the same, while Roger had broken 4 hrs. Doug had a good race until almost the last few miles where his dormant knee problem flared up and he had to take it slow, while Esther slowed down a bit in the second half, but still had a very good race. While we all didn't actually run the entire race right next to each other, each one of them played a role in my finish, I wouldn't have been able to do it without all of them being out there. And Cristy, our "captain" - who inspired us by being always there even though she couldn't really be "there". And the immense help from a lot of other folks including coach Greg and the crazy-fast-guys at the track club. And the incredible overwhelming support of all at track every wednesday – including those who showed up at the race and cheered. All of it reinforces the fact that running, while it can be a competitive, cut-throat sport for some, can also be a rich community experience, if we wish to make it one.

The Marathon Story, Part 1

Well - the short of it is - I did it! On Sunday, Dec 4, 2005, I ran my first marathon ever - the California International Marathon in Sacramento, and finished it in style, nice and strong, in 4:00:06 (four hrs and six seconds). Everything went well from start to finish - a beautiful day, just the perfect weather, friends and family to support, and so on. And in the process I found that all the superlatives people tend to associate with the word "marathon", are indeed true. A very memorable experience, and an immensely satisfying feeling at the end of it.

Ok, now for the gory details. Lets start from Saturday - the day before the marathon. (The next posting will cover the actual day of the marathon.) I headed out to Sacramento from Santa Cruz on Saturday morning. It was a clear, beautiful day - not a speck of cloud in the sky. It had been raining cats and dogs on thursday, and I was worried that it might rain during raceday. This race has a notorious reputation of raining out every two-three years or so - I knew of atleast two people that had run this race through pouring rain in 2002. Not something I was looking forward to - and luckily, looking at the sky, it seemed that I wouldn't have to worry about any of that after all. As I approached Sacramento, the Sierra Nevada mountains came into view in the east. It was a spectacular sight - the recent storms had resulted in a fresh dumping of snow, and the snow-covered mountain peaks in the backdrop were glistening in the sun.

The first thing I needed to do upon reaching Sacramento was to go to the "Sports and Fitness Expo" to pick up my Bib number and a bunch of other stuff - including my ticket for the shuttle bus I would need to take the next day to get to the starting line. As I parked my car, and walked toward the convention center, I realized that despite the sun being out and all, it was actually rather cold and windy. I was mentally prepared for the cold, but now the wind? Thinking back, I think I was in a state of mild paranoia in those last couple of days - I saw anything and everything out of the ordinary as potentially adversely affecting my running.

The "Expo" was the usual hubbub of activity. One issue I take with big races of this sort is that they force you go to to the "Expo" to pick up essential info. And in the process, you are subject to some serious marketing - the expo floor is filled with runner gear - not just essentials such as shorts, shirts, shoes and socks, but things like special gels to "warm up" and "cool down", a thousand different kinds of fuel belts, heart-rate monitors, accelerometers, nutrition foods and what-not. The "Expo" had been advertised as "you can do all your christmas shopping here!" - well, if everyone in your family was a runner, then sure. Granted - you can get some good buys on essential stuff - one cannot go wrong with a decent pair of shorts, for example. But most of it is stuff you don't *really* need, IMO.

I picked up my bib number, and bumped into Roger and Doug, two of my running companions - they were in good spirits. We chatted briefly, but soon I hurried out of there and was on my way to the Sacramento airport - my dad and mom would be arriving shortly. I duly picked them up at the airport, and we got back in town and checked into our hotel. Around 4.30pm or so we headed out, on our way to a group dinner, organized by our track club (SCTC - the Santa Cruz Track Club). We had to walk around 15 blocks, and in the process, we walked through the Capitol building area (the Governor's office, which was also where the finish line was).

We arrived at the "Old Spaghetti Factory" - the restaurant where we were to "carbo-load". Its a long-standing running myth that you should stuff yourself with carbs the night before a race, in order to have extra energy (due to extra reserves of carbs) the next day. However, in reality, to create extra/enough reserves of carbs, one should be eating well throughout the week - eating a heavy meal the night before will just make you sit in the loo a bit longer. In fact its probably a better idea to eat carefully the night-before. The last thing you want is an upset stomach on the day of the race!

It was very cool to see so many of us from the track club, at the dinner. We were led by Diane - easily one of the most inspirational figures at track. She wasn't running, but she would be on the course the next day and cheer for us. All 5 of us from Cristy's group were there - and so were some of the fastest/experienced folks from track - Stefan, Larry (our prez), Greg, etc. We chilled for a bit, my mom and dad got to hear interesting running stories. Greg came around and gave us a pep-talk about last minute strategies - "don't run too much before the start, use the first few miles of the race to warm up instead", "take the early bus to get there, since there might not be other buses","get a trash bag, cut holes in it and wear it to get some warmth at the starting line"- and most importantly - "don't start off too fast!". It seemed like one big family, and it was a good feeling to know that so many familiar faces would be out there at the race and on the course.

It was 7.00 pm and we were already done with the meal and on our way back to the hotel room. It all seemed rather early but the plan was to hit the bed early, since I would need to get up around 3.30am the next day. I reached my hotel room and found out that two or three of my friends from the bay-area were planning to come to the race tomorrow to cheer me. That would be NICE. Venki, my uncle from San Jose also showed up around 8pm or so. We talked about plans for the next day - I would leave early in the morning, and then the three of them (mom, dad and uncle) would leave around 8am or so and head toward the half-marathon point, to meet me there - that would give me something neat to look forward to during the run. After that, they'd head back to the finish line.

I set my clothes out for the next day, loaded up the various pockets of my running shorts with my "magic" bar (a nuts-and-protein bar that works really well for me, and actually TASTES decent), a couple packets of chocolate flavored and expresso flavored GU - (concentrated carbohydrate energy gel). I hit the bed around 9.30pm, and set alarms in 3 different places, just in case. Paranoia was beginning to set in again. My left leg had been hurting/feeling funny during my walk back from the restaurant. And as I lay down to sleep, it still felt funny. Was this a disaster waiting to happen? Was this the dreaded ITB Syndrome, finally rearing its head at the worst possible moment?Who knew. I finally decided that at that point, things were no longer under my control - the only thing I could possibly do was to to wake up the next morning and go to the marathon starting line - and see what happens. With those thoughts in my head, I went to sleep. Tomorrow would be a new day.
[To be concluded ...]

Pre-marathon musings

There's two days to go before raceday at California International Marathon, and I m eagerly looking forward to it. I am working out all the details of when to leave for Sacramento, what to carry, etc. Its currently stormy weather around here and in Sacramento, but if the weatherman is right, then the storm should die down by friday afternoon, and it should be clear on sunday. I just realized that the temperature would probably be in the low-30s when we would start running - which is about 15-20 degrees colder than what I am used to. Brrrr! Ok - that might sound wimpy to all you east-coast and mid-west people - but its all relative, you know. Us california people are a pampered lot when it comes to weather.

Its been kind of a fun week, leading up to the race. I got to talk about running all the time, yet do very little of actual running (given that we are in "taper" mode prior to the marathon). We even got a special "super-easy" workout at track on wednesday, while everyone else was doing something gruelling as usual - this in itself is worth all of the marathon training! ;) And we were made to feel special by everyone else - fellow runners checking in to see if we were feeling ready for the big weekend, and so on. Everyone making it sound like we were on the verge of achieving something big. It felt a little funny, esp. since we hadn't actually finished the damn thing - but it was a good feeling nevertheless - a good ego boost. I guess another way to look at it would be to think of us as "lambs before the slaughter" - maybe all this feeling-good business is just a "fattening up" before the "slaughter" on sunday! Well, if ultimately I get some pleasure out of the "slaughter" on sunday, that's all that matters - it will be worth it.

On the physical side, everything is holding up so far. I have a few aches and pains, but the last few weeks have taught me that if I run for a mile or two they start to fade. All my fellow-runners in our little "sub-4-hr-marathon" team - Roger, Doug, Esther, Debbie and myself - are still intact. We will, however, sorely miss our captain/coach/philosopher/guide - Cristy. It was Cristy's idea to form the "sub-4-hr-marathon" group - but she had to drop out of running due to injury early in the training- which was a big disappointment for her. And yet, that has not deterred her from keeping the rest of the team going, and providing us with an incredible amount of support throughout our training - including diligently showing up on each of our long runs, running/biking alongside, timing us, providing us with useful tips, and so on. This support has indeed been priceless. She will be sorely missed at the race, but we'll rest assured knowing that she'll be rooting for us, and urging us mentally - "Don't go out too fast!" .

Like everything else in life, a marathon is "not a destination, it is a trip". Regardless of how the day of the race actually turns out - the training itself has been quite a fun ride. There will be so many things to manage during the run - remembering to drink enough water, eating properly, running at the right pace corresponding to the mile in question, not going too fast, etc. But I hope that, in the middle of all that, I'll remember to be in the moment and enjoy the fact that Im actually running - knowing how lucky I am to be able to do what I love to do, and celebrate it in this manner - with people all around, and friends and family cheering. Wish me luck!

Taper times...

I am finally getting around to blogging about the present, after an extremely hectic past few weeks, when I was completely caught up in the organizing of our earthquake relief fundraiser. The fundraiser was last saturday, and the effort was indeed very worth it.

The event was a great success - Over 400 people came together at UC Berkeley's Wheeler Auditorium - rising above national, ethnic, linguistic, religious and cultural lines - to collectively raise over $50,000 for the survivors of the earthquake in Pakistan and India. And several others who couldn't come, nevertheless donated generously, or contributed in kind. It was a truly humbling and uplifting experience - knowing that we had all come together and were making a small, but not insignificant, difference. If you are still considering making a donation, please do so by visiting http://www.ektaonline.org/events/beyondborders/donate.htm . It is not important how much you give - but it is important that you give.

Coming back to the running side of things - the last few weeks have blown by as a result of my other engagements, and all of a sudden, I have ~10 days left to go before the big day of my marathon! (Dec 4). And in marathon-training parlance, we have entered the period of training known as "Taper". After all the heavy mileage and super-long runs through Oct and early/mid Nov, we now get to wind down and rest our bodies a bit, allowing it to recover in time for the marathon. This past sunday our long run was only 10 miles. (I say "only" now, but that did feel like a lot just a couple months ago). Our training coach/captain/guide Cristy even told us "You may feel like you are not "doing enough", but don't give in to the urge to overtrain."

I think I can safely say that I feel no such "urges". I have been doing fairly well in all of my runs - and been luckily injury free so far... But this doesn't necessarily mean that I ve been coasting, or that the training has been a piece of cake. My body has certainly taken a beating from all the long running, and I can feel it... For one, my right shoulder is super-sore from all the water-bottle carrying (and all the extra typing and mousing too, lately). I have stopped carrying the bottle in my right hand for 3 weeks now - but the shoulder will take time to heal. I finally took the advice of my friend and fellow-first-time marathoner Martin and paid a visit to a massage therapist that he was undergoing treatment with. If you have visions of a massage being something "relaxing", drop those visions now - since this was a 'deep tissue' massage, and at the end of it, I was in more pain than before. But I think she figured out the source of the problem (and 90% of it is a result of computer work, not running, she said) . She also suggested a few stretches that seem to help. I also have become familiar enough with this by now to know that during the actual race, I'll probably start feeling some pain/stiffness in my right shoulder about 7-8 miles into it, but if I remember to stretch it a few times every hour, it should be quite manageable.

I ve also been having some interesting soreness in my legs lately - my right ankle, and my left leg below the knee, feel funny when I start out cold - but about 4-5 miles into my runs, these have always gone away - so I presume that it is not anything to worry about - seems like my body just needs to warm up. The key word at this point is "manageable". One thing that training does to you is that it also trains your mind on adversity (such as physical pain), and helps you develop strategies to deal with it.

Another thing that I have come to realize in marathon training is that there is a big element of luck involved. You can be as committed as can be, and have good strength, stamina, endurance, etc - but if there are any quirks in your body that come in the way of its ability to absorb shock (and this is primarily what running is all about - 26.2 miles of pounding and shock-absorption), then that can be REALLY hard to overcome. Case in point - my friend Martin, who isn't short on committment or dedication, but has spent the better part of the last 3 months chasing leg issues, as a result of things like "crooked tibia vera", and "compressed peroneal nerve" and what not. Things totally out of one's control, atleast in the short term. The way to deal with things like these is to train and strengthen other muscles to compensate for these issues - kinda like how people who are blind develop their other senses to be much sharper than normal, to compensate for their handicap. Only thing is, things like these take TIME - and Martin doesn't have too much of it right now, considering his marathon is in 3 weeks. But Im convinced that (a) he will *finish* this marathon no matter what, and that (b) he will come back in the coming years, having overcome/compensated for his issues, to run more marathons. More power to him.

Coming back to my story - seeing all the injuries around that have knocked people out, or made things harder for them, I do feel really lucky that it has been a such smooth ride for me. I guess I m glad that I m running - there are many others who want to run but are unable to do it for various reasons. I love running- makes me feel good, it is agreeable to my body, I m surrounded by people who love to run and have interesting stories and tips to share, and I live in a part of the world where I can step out and run anytime of the year without having to worry about it being too hot or too cold. If all this isn't a stroke of luck, what is it?

"Taper time" is an interesting time because the marathon finally starts to become real, and all the anticipation starts to build up. Two weeks ago we did a 24-miler (in 5hrs) - and survived. Atleast, now I feel very confident that I can actually do this thing - that I will actually finish the marathon. (whether we'll actually do it in 4-hrs as planned, that I m not sure/confident still. It will depend a great deal on how I/we feel on the day-of). I ve made my hotel reservations in Sacramento, started taking a look at the course maps, planning the trip out and back, etc. My parents will be coming to cheer me on, and that's a really nice treat on my first marathon. There are also around 15-20 people from the track-club who'll be running the thing, so we'll have quite a contingent out there. And the 5 of us in the "4-hr" marathon crowd have stuck it out so far, and we are hoping to run the better part of the race together. This is the crowd that has sustained me through my training, and Im confident that it will carry me through the race. The countdown has begun...

The Relay Story - Episode 3

[Note: Part III (concluding part) of a 3-part series. See Part I and Part II as well. ]

Sunday Oct 16, 12 noon: Having had a few hours of attempted rest and relaxation, we "Van 2" folks were on our way to the last rendezvous of the relay (not counting the finish) - Saratoga Gap, at the intersection of Hwy 9 and Skyline Blvd. Driving down Skyline Blvd, we saw a whole horde of bikers (motorcyclists) - just as my colleague Jean-Michel had warned us we would. Rather I should say - "heard" - man, those bikes were really loud. And fast, and hugging the curves rather scarily. Luckily for us, they were mostly going the other way, and presuming that the runners would be staying on the right side of the road, the possibilities of being bumped by a crazy biker were low. Still the noise kinda freaked you out. I just don't get it - why do them bikes need to be so loud?

12.30pm: We reached the Van Exchange point - at the Santa Cruz county line. We were expecting Tim to show up around 1pm or so - he would be coming up Hwy 9 - a 3.1 mile "very hard" leg. Now - my first instinct was to wonder - how can a 3.1-mile leg be "very hard"? Then when I looked at the map - 1150 ft of elevation in 3 miles! Thats how.

It was a clear day, and the sun was out - but there was some tree cover. I was still in somewhat of a zombie state, and starting to get petrified about my upcoming run. While we were waiting, I found a shady patch of grass, and lay down for a bit...

Linda, our captain, and the rest of the Van 1 crew (except Tim) also arrived at the exchange point shortly - they were all done with their legs, and the relief was evident in their faces. Now all they had to do was to grab a good meal, and meet us Van 2 folks at the finish line.


1.00pm: Tim pulled in almost on the dot. Trevor, our van's lead runner, was waiting, looking fresh as always (Its amazing). He had a 6.2 mile (10 K) "moderate" leg, the beginning phase of our trip through Santa Cruz county - from the Santa Cruz mountains, to the ocean. As the rest of us hopped on to the van and rolled past him on our way to the next stop, we could see that he was looking good, and all set to have a good run.


1.45pm: We were joking earlier that Trevor was lucky to get an almost exact 10km leg - here was his chance to set a PR (personal record) for the official racing distance! But as Trevor pulled in, just past quarter-to-2, we realized we weren't that far off after all - he had just pulled off an amazing leg - 10K in ~45 min, averaging ~7min 18sec per mile ! Nicely done. Trevor handed off to Jaime for the last time, and Jaime took off. Literally. This was a 4.7 mile "easy" leg for Jaime - and we knew he was just going to sprint this one. We hurried back into the van, and drove as fast as we could to the next exchange point, our goal being to get there before Jaime did! As we passed Jaime, we could see that he was already closing in on a few people, and they would all be "roadkill-ed" in the next several minutes...

2.11pm: Mary had just enough time to get out of the car and start to get warm, before we spotted Jaime in the horizon. He pulled in with a lightning-fast average of 5min 29 sec per mile! Just to put it in perspective - I cannot even run 400m at that pace, let alone ~5 miles! Mary had another ~10km leg - down Hwy 9 through to Ben Lomond, and the rest of us hopped back on the van to get to the next interchange.

3.11pm: Mary emerged in the distance, with a blissful smile on her face - looking very relieved. I was looking forward to having that feeling very soon. Chris took over what would be another of those most-brutal legs. He had a 6.2 mile "very hard" leg that involved about 600 feet of climbing in the last 2 miles alone. It was turning out to be a warm afternoon, and Chris planned to carry a water bottle for the first 4 miles of it, so that he could be well hydrated before the climb. We met him at the intersection of Hwy 9 and San Lorenzo Ave - the last two miles would take him up into Felton quarry. He handed us off the water bottle, and started the climb, while we hopped back into the van and headed to the interchange. My turn would come next, and I was starting to get the butterflies in my stomach. As we headed up the hill, we got to see what "very hard" meant, first-hand. Man, that was one helll of a nasty climb - the road just kept snaking up and up! We climbed in the van for what seemed like forever..

4.00pm: We reached the exchange point, and I started to get warmed up and stretch, as we waited for Chris to pull up. My leg was a 6.5 mile "hard" leg, that would take us from Felton into Santa Cruz. To say I was "a bit worried" would be an understatement - having seen the hill Chris was climbing up - and knowing that I had a mile or so of the same hill (350 ft elevation - thankfully, much less insane than Chris's leg). Also, the memory of screwing up on my previous "easy" leg by starting off too fast was still fresh in my mind. If I ran out of gas in an "easy" leg, what was to prevent me from losing it in a "hard" leg? I spoke to Trevor about it, and he advised me to "become ONE with the hill" in the first mile. He suggested that I start off really conservatively, not think about time, etc - just chug up the hill, use it as a "warm-up" jog, and treat the mostly-downhill ~5 miles that followed, as the real run. Soon enough, Chris pulled in, looking red, sweat pouring down his body - he had just finished the hardest, most-brutal set of legs in the entire course. Now there was an accomplishment...

Taking Trevor's advice, I started off real slow up the hill. Felton Quarry was a dirt road, and involved a series of switchbacks. The scenery at the quarry was odd - on the one side you could see the redwoods, and on the other side, mountainsides carved up to reveal their white underbelly of limestone . I allowed myself to be distracted by the scenery, and momentarily forget about the hill I was climbing. Soon enough, I reached the end of Felton Quarry Road, and merged onto Empire Grade. There were no mile markers of course, but from the map I realized that I was pretty close to the 1-mile marker, and there-by, the end of the hill. I figured that I'd know that the hill had ended when I'd suddenly get to see the valley below. But Empire Grade, this stretch of it, had tree cover on both sides, so you couldn't look very far. I continued running, but didn't quite reach any point that cried to me "top of the hill!". Soon, the road turned into rolling hills - I'd either gone past the hill, or I was going the wrong way. I started to worry just a tad bit until I saw another runner up ahead. Good - this meant we were on our way down!

This stretch of road was surprisingly beautiful - it was late afternoon and a super-clear sky. I was expecting it to be hot and brutal with direct sun, but the tree cover ensured that only slivers of sunlight came through, making it quite pleasant. I overtook a couple of runners, and continued down - well, up and down actually, through the rolling hills. On the left, the tree cover changed into hillsides, and I could spot horses roaming around. A few steep downhills (with signs for trucks to use lower gears) followed by another small stretch of uphill. And then - the trees on the right suddenly gave way to clear meadows. And as I came up the road, suddenly, the whole world opened up below me. To the right was the beautiful blue ocean - and below, you could make out the town of Santa Cruz - further down, Capitola, Aptos, the factory at Moss Landing, the Gabilan Mountains behind Salinas, the beaches at Monterey, the mountains of Big Sur. Just jaw-droppingly beautiful and crystal clear, for miles and miles. This view alone was worth the price of admission... I kept gawking for the next half mile or so as I continued running - I had to force myself to look down once in a while to make sure I stayed on the road and did not trip on something.

Very soon, UCSC emerged on the left, and I knew I had less than a mile and a half to go. I stepped it up a notch, and soon enough, people came into view at the interchange. But this was already Santa Cruz town, and I had to cross a signal to get there - a signal which was just about to turn red. I hesitated, then stepped on it, and got onto the road before the light changed - and then, it was all over - as I handed the "baton" to Angelique, for the final leg. And at that instant, I remember thinking - "gee, it would have been cool to have another set of legs to run". This thought faded quickly and I reverted back to reality as my legs started to stiffen up. But I was exhilirated from the run. Checking the time, I noticed that I had made it in ~48 min, averaging 7min 25sec per mile - which actually is *pretty fast* by my standards!. But I am sure that the thing I'll remember from this run won't be the time I finished it in, but rather, the late-afternoon views from Empire Grade...

["Asleep at the Heel", at the line at Santa Cruz beach. Trevor is missing in this picture]

5.30pm: All of the "Asleep at the Heel" team, (except Angelique of course, who was running) assembled at the finish line - at the Santa Cruz beach boardwalk. We were to run the last 200 yards together as a team. Angelique had not been keeping well, and we were a bit concerned for her health - but she hung in there, and made it through. Soon enough, someone spotted her running down Beach St., and all of us gathered our stuff hurriedly and prepared to run with her. The last 200 yards are on soft sand, and boy, that was painful - the slowest 200 yards I ve ever run. But the finish line ultimately came, and we went through it. We were DONE! 5.46.34pm - we had been on the run for a total of 28 hrs, 45 minutes. Mixed emotions filled the air - physical pain coupled with mental relief and joy - and anticipation (of the beds that we would all hit within the next few hours). And a tinge of sadness - that a very memorable experience had come to an end.

And to conclude - what makes this kind of experience memorable is the people that constitute it. I was extremely lucky to have a fantastic group of folks to hang out with, and that made all the difference. And yes - many many thanks to our fearless captain Linda, without whom none of this would have been possible - and Chris, for all those training hill runs, and advice that enabled me to run smart (for the most part) and get the most fun out of my runs. And yes, I am still amazed by the three guys of Van 1 (Tom, Tim and Joe) - the "extra-leggers", who so ably compensated for the missing runner in our team. Cheers!

South Asia Earthquake Relief: An Appeal

Yesterday, Nov 8th, was the one-month anniversary of the devastating earthquake that struck South Asia - northern Pakistan, and Indian and Pakistani Kashmir. The scale of the destruction has been astounding. What's more - one month after the quake, survivors in remote areas are still in need of immediate treatment, relief and evacuation. There is also a desparate need to provide shelter. A brutal winter is coming to the Himalayan region, and a massive second wave of death is expected, if efforts aren't stepped up to help the 3-4 million made homeless by the earthquake, who have been left to face the winter without any form of shelter.

The situation is truly dire, and a race against time is on right now to help the survivors. It is upto each of us to contribute in whatever which way we can to help the effort.

A wide array of organizations, including many groups of the South Asian diaspora, are coming together to organize a fundraiser that will benefit earthquake survivors on both sides of the border. It is, (appropriately) called "BEYOND BORDERS" .

Beyond Borders [Saturday Nov 19, 7pm - Berkeley] will feature an assortment of performance art, including Indian/Pakistani classical (vocal and instrumental), spoken word, dance, and much more. But more importantly, every dollar you contribute by way of ticket purchase or donation, will go directly towards earthquake relief.

100% of the proceeds from the fundraiser will be sent to groups that are engaged in relief and rehabilitation efforts on the ground in Pakistan and India and are committed to an equal and just distribution of resources among marginalized and deprived communities, irrespective of biases of gender, class or religion.

I am part of the organizing committee for the event, and if you are in the San Francisco Bay Area, I recommend this as great way to contribute to earthquake relief - knowing that the money you donate will be well-used, and enjoy what should be a truly wonderful evening.

More info and tickets at http://ektaonline.org/beyondborders

If you cannot attend the concert (say, you are not in the SF Bay Area) but still wish to contribute to relief efforts, you can make a donation ONLINE.

We CAN make a difference, and the time to act is NOW. Let us step up and do our part.

For news and latest information about the quake and its aftermath:
Check out The Guardian newspaper (UK)'s Special Reports on the Earthquake. And the BBC's South Asia Quake - In Depth page. While the mainstream media in the US has already forgotten about the disaster and moved on cover more spicy news stories, it is heartening to note there are atleast some outlets around the world that are giving the disaster the attention it deserves.

And if you are the blog-surfing type, be sure to subscribe to http://quakehelp.blogspot.com - from the same folks that brought out thethe SEA EAT (South East Asian Earthquake And Tsunami) blog & wiki, which gained worldwide attention at the time of the earthquake and tsunami on 26th December, 2004. Many of these folks have remobilised to aid in the relief efforts after the south asian quake.

The Relay Story - Episode 2

[Note: Part 2 of a 3 part series. See Part 1 here]

Sun Oct 16, 12.00 am: The Van 2 crew of Chris, Jaime, Trevor, Mary, Angelique and myself found ourselves at a Denny's all-night restaurant in Corte Madera (just north of San Francisco). We had just finished one whole set of legs (all 12 of them, approximately 70 miles total) as a team. Folks from Van 1 were running their second set of legs, and we had around 4 hrs left to kill before our turn would come again. The Denny's was rather crowded - considering it was past 12 on a saturday night. We could spot a few other folks at other tables who were looking tired, yet semi-hyper - clearly another running team. We too were surprisingly energetic given the time of the day - we actually had some intelligent conversation - including an analysis of the merits of TV watching and video game playing on kids - while we were guzzling down some seriously hearty food. Boy, that meal of pancakes, scrambled eggs and fried potatoes tasted really swell at 12 in the night.

Sun Oct 16, 1.30am: We made our way to the spot of our next rendezvous with Van 1 - just south of the Golden Gate Bridge. Incredibly exhausted, I had already started dozing in the van on our way back from Denny's - I was immensely glad I didn't have to do any driving. Trevor, who claimed to be on "British Time" had taken over from Chris (who did the bulk of the driving), and cheerfully drove us to the van exchange spot, just off of the Presidio, south of the bridge. Our van's turn would come again around 4am or so, so here was our opportunity to have a couple hours of sleep. Some of us slept in the van, while the rest of us stepped out to try sleeping in the open, in the lawns near the Golden Gate bridge. It was a crisp, and cold night. But my sleeping bag felt warm enough. Plus the sky was really clear, with zillions of stars visible. I lay down and promptly fell asleep - it was probably the best 2 hours of sleep in my whole entire life.

Sun Oct 16, 3.45am: My blissful sleep was interrupted as it was time again for our Van to get into the action. Our team had crossed the golden gate bridge. Oh, what I would have given to have another hour of sleep right then! Trevor, fresh as ever, took over - his leg would take him through Golden Gate Park and drop onto the Great Highway - along the ocean. The rest of us took to the van to reach the next exchange point. Chris had taken over the driver' s seat. I continued to use every opportunity to doze. But as we pulled into the parking lot, I couldn't help opening my eyes. We were right alongside the ocean and were greeted by the sight of a full moon, reflecting off of the ocean and causing the whole ocean surface to glow. Quite spectacular.

Sun Oct 16, 5.00am: Jaime then took over from Trevor, and ran a hard leg through the still-dark night. He handed it over to Mary for another tough leg in the dark. Running was furthest from my mind during this stretch- all I could think of was sleep. As Mary started on her way, I finally started to freshen up and get some coffee into my system. Mary handed it off to Chris at around 6.50 am - the sky started to lighten up, and first hints of pre-dawn started to become evident.

7.26am: It was time for me to start my second leg. I wasn't feeling fully rested, but the coffee had made me wide awake and a bit jumpy. This was a 3.7 mile, "easy" leg. The first mile-and-a-half was all downhill, and I got off to a brisk start. I even overtook a runner within the first half-mile - woohoo! Most of my run was along Skyline Blvd. The day had arrived, alright - sun rays were starting to make it over the hill on the left, and on the right, mist rose from the surface of Crystal Springs Reservoir - just an incredible sight. I barrelled into mile two, and this is where the rolling hills started - hey, this was supposd to be an "easy" run, where did the rolling hills come from? Soon, I wasn't feeling all that good anymore. I realized that I had started off too fast, and was quickly running out of gas. The next mile was really tough even though it wasn't nearly as steep or as long as the hill from the night before. So much for this being an "easy" leg! The turn at towards the very end of the run eventually came, (but not nearly soon enough). I got roadkill-ed by a few more runners in that last mile, but that was the least of my concerns now - I was just willing myself to finish somehow. What a contrast from the previous night - those 7.1 "hard" miles didn't nearly feel as hard as these "3.7" easy miles! I turned onto Canada road - how much more to go, I wondered, as I was fading fast. But a few hundred yards later, there was the exchange, with people milling around. Angelique was waiting to begin her next leg. I pulled in, feeling really happy to just be able to finish my leg after that miserable last mile. Checking the time, however I realized I had done the thing in less than 26 minutes, translating to just over 7 min per mile! Waay faster than I'd ever expected. No wonder, it felt super-tough!!

[The team at the Canada College interchange, while waiting for Angelique to come in. Two legs done, still looking good! ]

8.15am: We headed to Canada College, the spot of our next rendezvous with Van 1. The Van 1 folks were looking a little too fresh - it almost seemed like they'd actually gotten to sleep! Angelique came in around 8.45 and handed over the "baton" to Angeline (see picture on the left), and we were officially done with two sets of legs - ~130 miles done. Only one more set of legs to go. Canada College was to be our stop for the next few hours. We were desparate to get some rest, and the college actually was nicely set up for the purpose - they opened up the gym room for runners, and turned down the light, and rolled the curtains, making it one large bedroom. Showers, coffee, breakfast, etc. were also available. I considered sleeping, but then decided against it because the coffee in my system still seemed to be working. Instead I hit the showers, got myself more coffee, and something to eat. Halfway through my breakfast I realized I was a walking zombie - the exhaustion was setting in - yet I was too wired to get some sleep. The sun had come out in full force. I found a shady spot by a small tree near where our van was parked, sat down, and closed my eyes for a bit. The day had come too soon. And in a few hours, we would be barrelling down the roads once again, and pushing our bodies to the limit one last time. Did we have enough juice left in us? Only time would tell.
[To be continued...]

22 miles is a LOT of miles...

This past sunday's long run was the longest of 'em all, thus far. But more than the distance, all 22 miles of it, it was the time - 4 hrs 20 min - that felt really long. Not long in the sense that you felt really bored and wanted it to be over with - but more of a feeling of time itself slowing down to a crawl.

As usual, it was 8 am when we started - but it being Oct 31, we had just readjusted our clocks and switched from Pacific Daylight Time to Pacific Standard Time, which translated to an extra hour of sleep overnight. And I was grateful for that. There were 5 of us from our "4-hour marathon" training group that showed up - Doug, Roger, Esther, Debbie, and yours truly - we have become the sunday regulars over these past several weekends. Our training group had started out 15-20 people strong in August - but since then we've had people injured, others dropping off, etc. And some others who are still training, only not with us on sundays. Our coach/captain/philosopher/guide Cristy was there as usual - she was supposed to be training for this marathon but got injured - which is a real bummer if you are trying to lead a marathon training group! Amazingly, she has continued to guide us in our efforts, including keeping us company on our sunday runs - mostly being there alongside us on a bike, timing our mile splits on tempo runs, or sometimes running some short stretches with us as she recovers, and always checking in on folks, offering tips, advice, and such. Man, that's committment. Having her around has made such a huge difference for us.

It was a beautiful day as we took off. The plan was to run all 22 miles of it on pavement/road. Not nearly the funnest way to run 22 miles, but given that the actual race would also consist of running almost entirely on pavement, this would be good training (I guess). We started off at Nisene Marks St. Park in Aptos, but instead of running into the forest as we usually, we ran towards Capitola. From Capitola we were to take the "Wharf-2-Wharf" route in reverse. (The Wharf-2-Wharf race is a highly popular fun 6 mile race from Santa Cruz to Capitola). After hitting the Wharf-2-Wharf starting point, we were to run for one further mile (to complete 11 miles one-way) and then turn around.

The first half was great. I don't remember too much of it running-wise. We were chatting away about all and sundry, the day was sunny but there was a cool breeze in the air. And the scenery kept changing - from the quaint (yet sadly super-commercial) village of Capitola, through East Cliff Dr and all the surfing hotspots, along various lagoons, past people playing beach volleyball, along the levee of the San Lorenzo river, through the beach Boardwalk in Santa Cruz. We sure are lucky to be able to live and run in such an interesting setting.. At the 10 mile spot, Esther and Debbie decided to turn back - they wanted to do only 20 miles total (I use "only", purely in a relative sense, mind you). We were now reduced to 3 folks - myself, Roger, and Doug. The trio of us went about a mile or so further, until the lighthouse, and then turned back, pretty-much retracing our steps.

It was past the 14-15 mile mark that I started feeling it - the cumulative effects of the distance we'd covered, and the duration for which we'd been out running. The conversation slowly died, the day grew hotter. I felt like I had to maintain my rythm perfectly, put one step after the next. One misstep and I'd probably injure myself and collapse.. Everytime we'd stop at a water stop, the legs would start stiffening in no time, and we had to hobble back for a bit before normal motion would get restored. My body was clearly on "edge", you had the sense that you were pushing the limits of your system.

These last miles felt like nothing else I can remember - usually, if you are running hard, you end up feeling completely out of breath, or your legs are screaming in pain and all the lactic acid accumulation, etc. But here, I was breathing well, my legs weren't in pain, and so on - just a sense that the overall energy level of my body had dropped.. and alongwith it, brain capacity, the ability to think deep, have an articulate conversation, etc. In the last couple miles Roger and Doug were still talking about something, but I wanted no part of any conversation, my brain was only able to process superficial stuff - "Ok, here's a car. Ok, the car went by. The car was a green Honda. Ok, here's some grass. There's another plant - hey, there's a hill, here it comes. Ok, here we are, running up the hill. Still running up the hill. There, that hill is done. Oh - there's one more, up ahead." (and so on).

When we finished, it was a good feeling - we'd crossed the 20 mile barrier in one piece! The marathon would just be 4 more miles! But if this experience was anything to go by, I know that those last 4 miles would be like nothing else I've known.. And I now have developed new respect for those folks that run marathons in 6,7 hrs - putting your body on edge for 4 hours was challenging enough, 6-7 hrs must be quite something! Clearly, a marathon is not solely about running, it is truly a test for your entire body and mind.

The Relay Story - Episode 1

[Note: Part 1 of a multi-part series. Read previous posting for details]

SAT, Oct 15 - 7.00am: The morning of the relay. After all the planning and preparation, we were going to embark on this crazy trip today. I had my cuppa coffee, and set out to make sure I had packed everything I needed, per Linda's checklist.

Leading up to the race, there had been a huge amount of team preparation that went into it. Most of that work was done by Linda, our team captain. She along with a bunch of others in the team had done this relay multiple times before, and they knew exactly what the deal was. All I had to do pack a few sets of clothes and my running gear, and even this was neatly laid out on a checklist that Linda had made for us! This is how I like it - just show up, let people take care of you.

SAT, Oct 15 - 8.10am: This was the scheduled time for me to be picked up by the van that was leaving from Santa Cruz. Sure enough, the van was there on the dot. I hopped in - the van already had 5 others. Soon after, we picked up Mary, and were on our way to Calistoga. This was going to be "Van 2" at the relay, i.e, it was going to hold runners #7 through #12. Me being runner #11, this was going to be my home for the next couple days.

Linda, our captain, was driving the van (it was her van) - but once she reached Calistoga, she would hop on to Van 1. The rest of the folks in the van were genuine Van 2 folks - Chris, a colleague of mine, an experienced runner, with a wicked sense of humor; Trevor - an ultrarunner who'd just finished a 100 mile run earlier in the year, and the perfect complement to Chris; Jaime, who was so fast he'd probably do the whole relay alone in half the time we'd all take as a team; and Angelique and Mary, both of who had miles and miles of running experience between them, and more importantly were very laid-back, relaxed and happy-go-lucky.

SAT, Oct 15 - 12:15pm: We arrived in Calistoga, the starting point of the relay. We were duly joined by Van 1 and the rest of its folks - Angeline, Tom, Tim, and Joe. Wait a minute, where was Marc? We learnt that Marc had to drop out due to a late attack of stomach flu - and so we were suddenly reduced to a team of 11. No matter, the three brave men in Van 1 decided that between themselves, they would each run an extra leg to compensate for missing Marc. 3 legs seemed daunting enough, and now these guys were going to do 4 legs? Yikes. Well, it was great that these folks stepped up to the plate and made it a non-issue.

[L to R, Front: Joe, Mary, Linda, Angeline and Jaime. Back: Tim, myself, Angelique, Chris and Trevor. Tom is missing in this photo]

Our team's starting time was 1pm. We picked up our bibs, and got down to the task of decorating our vans, and looking at all the cool stuff on the vans of other teams. Chris was humming a song that seemed to have been written specifically for the purposes of this relay. It goes something like this:

Everybody looks good at the starting line
You can hit the ground running like you are shot from a gun,
but going the distance is the hardest part, son...

1.01pm: Our team's starting time finally came around. Angeline started off with a small pack of other 1-pm starters, and we were officially underway. We split - Van 1 got on its way to the next leg, and those of us in Van 2 headed out to do the tough task of finding a place to eat and relax. Our turn would come after the folks in Van 1 took care of the first six legs - in about 4 hrs or so.

3.30pm: After a hearty lunch, we were lazing around in Napa. Hey - weren't we supposed to be in a relay? It felt kinda anti-climactic. We were looking forward to actually getting to do something.

4.30pm: We reached the first interchange - where runner #6 (Tom) would hand off to runner #7 (Trevor). Vans crowded all over the place, runners getting ready. Ok, this was a real race after all.

5.16pm: Tom came in, handed the little wristband (which was the equivalent of the baton) to Trevor. For those of us in Van 2 , the race had finally begun. After seeing Trevor off, we hopped into our van and drove to the next interchange to pick up Trevor and drop off Jaime.

A view of the interchange point in Napa, while we waited for Trevor to pull in.

6.16pm: Trevor pulled in with a big smile on his face, and handed off the "baton" to Jaime. As Jaime took off we lost no time in getting back to our van and hustled down to the next exchange, since we knew that Jaime would be *really* fast.

Jaime takes off, as sunset approaches. Angelique, our time-keeper, notes down the Trevor-Jaime exchange time

8.50 pm: Our van pulled into the next exchange point, which was at a high school. Jaime and Mary had already finished their legs. Chris was on the course, running what probably was the hardest leg of them all, an 8.9 mile killer. I was due next, and I was having the butterflies in my stomach. I'd been waiting all day for this. I stepped out of the van, to warm up - and there was a stiff, cold breeze in the air. It felt kinda odd - I had just spent all of a very beautiful day, inside a van. And now, on a cold, dark night, I was getting ready to run. As I jogged around the school, I noticed that the crowd was an odd mixture of people, some, like me in their sweats and shorts, and others, a bunch of young folks who looked extremely well dressed. Oh - it was prom night at the high school.

9.23 pm: Chris pulled in, and from the look on his face, it was clear that he had just been through a most-brutal run. He was hobbling a bit too, which had us worried (he thought he'd twisted his ankle but luckily it turned out to be a false alarm). I took off into the cold night, wearing a reflective vest, and a headlamp, to light up the evening and keep me safe. (see a (headless) picture of me below. Hey, I was running too fast for the camera!). This was a 7.1 mile "hard" leg. The first three miles were flat, and through the city streets. They were well lit and all, but it was a bit annoying to have to stop at a couple of signals. Things got better as I reached "D" street shortly after mile 2 - the rest of my run was going to be on this street.

The hills started at mile 4, and would continue on through the end of mile 5. I had already been "roadkill-ed" (i.e., passed by runners from other teams) a few times, but I was feeling good at the bottom of the hill and that's what mattered. The road was now quite away from the city. There were no street lights anymore. I recall thinking earlier that it would be spooky running in the middle of the night through some lonely road - but now that I was on one such road, it was actually beautiful. The full moon was out - and it lit up the hill sides. I could see a couple of runners ahead, by the reflection of the moonlight on their vests. As we climbed up the hill, I realized that I was actually gaining on one of them. I focussed on him for the rest of the climb. Soon enough, we reached the top of the hill.Two more miles to go, all downhill. I had almost caught up with this other person, we were running on two sides of the road now. I decided to step it up a notch. Pretty soon, I overtook him (yeah! my first roadkill!) and was now coasting along. I couldn't relax though, as this person stuck right behind me and had the pressure on. A few more twists and turns, and just as I was starting to tire and wonder how much more we had left - I came around a bend, and suddenly - people. A relay volunteer cried "runner up - 159" (that was my team number) - a very pleasant sound indeed. A few more yards, and there was Angelique, waiting. I handed her the "baton", and pulled to a hard stop, and my legs almost buckled under me. It was 10.21pm, and I was done with my first leg. Quite a feeling.

10.50pm: We reached the next van exchange - a cheese factory in Marin county. The Van 1 folks were already there, ready to start their next set of legs, and we were ready to take a break. Angelique, our van's last runner, arrived around 11.10pm after hustling through a 4.8 mile "hard", hilly run, and handed it over to Angeline from Van 1. We had just finished one whole set of legs as a team. Whew! We figured we had around 4-5 hrs to kill, and decided to find something to eat first, followed by some sleep somehow, before our turn would come again, at around 3.30-4.00 am. The fun had just begun.

[To be continued...]

The Relay Story - A Preview

I realize that it has been more than one week since my last posting, and I want to assure you that I have neither disappeared from the face of the earth, nor have I decided that this running thing wasn't such a good idea after all. Rather, I have been hard at work on behalf of you all (atleast this is what I want you to believe), writing up an account of the relay I participated in, a couple weekends ago. The thing is, that account is turning into quite a novel. If you thought my other posts were long - well, brace yourself. So what I ve decided is to break it up into multiple (3, maybe 4) episodes, which will be released over the span of the next week or so.

In a nutshell, the relay was quite a trip. I had a fantastic time. Can't all be categorized as "fun" - but it certainly was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I lucked out - I ended up with a really good group of people. Folks who were good, solid runners, but not obsessed about every single detail. As a team, our goal was to have a good time, and we didn't really worry about racing all that much. Despite the lack of sleep, cramped van-space, etc., a cheery attitude and good humor carried us through and made it a nice trip.

Episode 1 is out today for your reading pleasure. Enjoy, and send those comments/brickbats.

Asleep at the Heel

This is what my relay team calls itself. Yes, that's right. T his weekend I am abandoning my traditional long run, for what promises to be quite an interesting trip - the "relay".

The Relay, as it is simply called, is a 199 mile team run, from Calistoga to Santa Cruz. It starts tomorrow (Oct 15) and ends on Sunday (Oct 16th). Some people I know have run it for a few years now, and this year their team had an opening, and they asked me if I could do it, so here I am.

So here's how it works: Each team consists of 12 folks, and the 199 miles are divided up into 36 legs, with each person getting to do 3 legs each. Runners are ordered from 1 to 12, and each runner in a team gets to do a set of legs corresponding to the number. For example, I am number 11, so I get to do legs 11, 23, and 35. The legs are also ranked by difficulty (Easy, Medium, Hard and Very Hard) and overall, the runners are also given an overall difficulty level (1 being the most difficult). My difficulty level is 4 - and my three legs are "Hard", "Easy" and "Hard". Kinda complicated? yeah. But it all adds to the fun.

Oh and did I mention we don't stop running through the night? There are many teams participating, and based on the teams "running ability" the starting times are assigned. Our starting time this year is 1pm tomorrow. We are split into two vans - runners 1-6 in Van 1, and 6-12 in Van 2. Given that each person's leg is ~6 miles, and that'd take ~45-55 min each (say), Im presuming it will take until 9-10pm or so to get to me for my first leg. The way they've timed it is such that the person who gets to run golden gate bridge will do so, around midnight, on a full moon. Now how's that for timing?

So - my legs are #11 (7.1 miles, Hard, in Petaluma), #23 (3.7 miles, Easy, in Skyline Blvd above San Mateo), and #35 - (6.5 miles, Hard, in upper west Santa Cruz). Total 17.2 miles. Now that can't be all that hard, can it? Considering Ive already done 18 miles at a stretch in my long runs.
But I suspect that the challenge here is in managing to sleep between runs, figure out when to eat, etc. and running at some really bizzare times. And in staying in a tiny van filled with 6 sweaty people for a day and a half. Should be a quite a trip. I'll tell you all about it when I get back! Time to get some sleep now, as this might be the last chance at getting a decent sleep for a couple of days.

The battle with the food belt

I am finally getting around again to writing about running, after a haphazard week or so. There was my apartment move to deal with - and then, the south asia earthquake - and we are all still coming to grips with the scale of the tragedy. Some local organizations that Im involved with are starting to work toward supporting relief efforts (fundraisers are being planned, etc) so I expect some of my time in the next few weeks to be occupied with that.

Regardless, my marathon training is still on - though I'd stopped writing about running for a little bit, running still has been going strong. Today I wanted to write about one of my recent runs, including an unusual struggle and some unexpected help that carried me through...

Our long run two sundays ago was an 18-miler. For me, and for other novice marathoners in the group, this would be the longest we would have ever run. I was pretty excited. Also, I had learnt my lessons from our 16 mile run two weekends ago - when I had just carried water for the entire run and ended up feeling wiped out. I was sporting a brand new, fancy water/food belt - a thing that you wear around your waist that contains a slot to hold your water bottle, plus pockets to store away some energy bar or sports gel. I was feeling good, feeling very prepared with my food belt, gel packets and gatorade mixed-water. This was going to be a good run.

I started running with Ted, slightly behind the rest of the group. Ted's a mid-thirties guy, he is a mathematician, as well as a pastor (quite a combination). He's a pretty good and fast runner, but this would be his first marathon too, and so he's doing some of the really long runs with the slow group, i.e., our group. He's quite a chatty guy and it didn't take long for us to start having a few laughs. All was well until half a mile - when things started sloshing around me. I realized that my food belt had loosened from its resting place around my waist and was now going up and down against my tummy! like a hula hoop. Of course, it had never occured to me to try the thing out beforehand. I had to stop. Ted, nice guy that he was, also stopped, and waited till I adjusted. I thought I had it nailed this time. We resumed running and had just started conversation again when the belt became loose one more time. Hmm - "maybe i had it on too tight. lets try loosening it a bit, and then it won't feel the pressure" - didn't work. "Maybe I should wear it lower." Not quite. "How about higher?". Nope. With each of these stops I became increasingly annoyed. I suggested to Ted that he should leave me to my plight and get on with it, that I'd join him and the group later. But he insisted that it was OK, he was determined to run with me no matter what. We got into a pattern - each time I had to stop, he would try and help me out with the belt. And then when we ran, he'd patiently engage me in conversation, trying to get my mind off the fact that I was wearing this awkward belt. By now we couldn't see the rest of the group ahead of us anymore - they were a few minutes ahead. Thankfully however, Three miles into the run, things improved considerably - I found a semi-decent neutral position for the belt and it held there for a little while. A mile later it started sloshing again, and I decided that I would just ignore it. At 5 miles I took the water bottle out of the belt and decided to carry it in my hand - and the sloshing reduced considerably. At mile ten, when we were back at my car (we were doing a 10 mile loop followed by an 8 mile loop to get our 18 miles) I dumped the contraption into my car, and the rest of the run was a breeze. In the end, 18 miles was accomplished without feeling too bad, and a new milestone was reached!

Now that I've had time to reflect on the run, I realize what a difference it made to have Ted along in those early stages of the run. If he'd left me and run with the rest of the pack right from the start, I'd probably have imploded on myself, that's how frustrated I was feeling. What's even more remarkable is the fact that he kept stopping whenever I stopped. To appreciate that, you have to know that one of the things runners HATE most is stopping intermittently when they don't want to. It upsets their rythm, screws up their timing, makes them stiff, etc. etc. If I were in his position, I'd probably have taken off and joined the rest of the pack! And yet, my day was salvaged only because he hung around with me for those first painful 30 minutes. Here's to you, Ted. I owe you one.

[ Check out the features of the food belt in the image. Quite fancy, don't you think? Now if only there was a way to actually wear it....]

And what happened to the brand new food belt, you may ask? well - it has figured out it needs more training before it can join me on long runs. So its going to take it easy for a while. Meanwhile, Im reverting to tried and true stuff - my old bottle strap to carry in my hand, plus shorts with pockets to keep energy bars and keys and what not (wow, what a concept). Who needs new technology?

Tragedy in South Asia - please help

The move to my new place finally got done last week, and I expected to get back to writing up my running stories tonight - but these past couple of days, things have been shaken by news of the earthquake in South Asia. As you all know - on Saturday this massive quake hit the North Pakistan/Kashmir region, resulting in tens of thousands dead (and still counting), many of them school children - the lives of millions devastated. Friends of South Asia, a South Asian community organization in the SF Bay Area that I am involved with, along with other Indians/Pakistanis in the area are trying to figure out what we can do to help. At the very least we can all donate generously. Go to the earthquake wikipedia/wikicities page at http://pakistan.wikicities.com/wiki/Earthquake_10-05 to get latest news, info, photographs, personal accounts, etc. as well as various donation options.

more running stuff coming tomorrow...

I'm still here - and will be back REAL SOON!

In case you are wondering - no, I have not disappeared from the face of the earth. Only thing is, my time-availability + internet access have been rather sketchy over the past few days. This is because I m in the middle of moving apartments, and living a nomad's life right now. I should be done with all of that craziness by this weekend - but in the meantime, the list of things I want to share with y'all has been growing everyday.. Lots of interesting stories to tell!

Here's what's cooking:
- my 18 mile run this past wknd and some "unusual" struggles
- October - the "monster month"
- the "relay" - a 200 mile, 12 person team run that I'll be doing Oct 14-15
- What do runners think about when they are running? (I will build off of a question asked by Parul in a comment to a previous posting)

... and much more. So be sure to check back this weekend.

ah.. wednesday evenings..

I suspect that no one else looks forward to 5.15 pm on wednesday as much as I do. Because that is the time I get to get up from my cube at work, change, and head down to track. Wednesday is "general workout" night at the Santa Cruz Track Club (SCTC)

Hmm, where do I start with the track club? I ve been running for nearly 3 years now, and have been with the track club for the past 2.5 years. It is a big part of how running has become a key part of my life.

"Track" is actually a rubberized asphalt athletic track at Soquel High School here in Santa Cruz county. Every wednesday at 6pm, members of the track club gather here, to do a "speed" workout. The group of folks is quite a mix - young (as well as old) speedsters/sprinters, some of the fastest in the county, middle-aged marathoners, ultra-runners who'll run 50 miles without thinking twice, etc. But they are not all. It also includes folks interested in running but looking for someone to run with - a new runner trying to run their first 10k, a 10k runner aiming to run a first marathon, someone coming back to running after a year mired in injury, a group of runners who are not known for winning or being fast, but just for running, year after year, mile after mile. Anyone who's running for whatever random reason, and at whatever speed, and whatever age, will find something to like at the track club. The club is all-welcoming, and there is no judging of anyone based on how fast or how slow or how smooth or how cumbersome they are.

This assorted crowd of around 30-40 people every wednesday is presided over by Coach Greg Brock. Every wednesday Greg comes up with a prescribed workout that's designed to just push you to almost your maximum thresholds, while guaranteeing that you won't go over. And each week he comes up with a different way to do that. Each week you think - ha - this sounds easier than last week! But by the time you are done with it, you are forced to have second thoughts. Another thing - Greg insists that you are running with/against yourself. The workout prescriptions always indicate that we should "run this at *your* 10k pace for the first lap, and *your* 5k pace for the second lap", etc. And over the weeks, as one figures out what "your 10k pace" actually is, one also finds a group of runners that's at his/her speed.

Oh, and before we actually start running, there's a whole routine - stretching for 10 min, followed by push-ups (15-20 depending on who's leading the group), followed by a jog around the track, followed by more stretching, followed by more of those god-awful push-ups. Then we do a couple of sprints around track to get really warmed up. And then, we come together and go through the rest of the community ritual - new faces get to introduce themselves, people who raced the previous weekend share their exploits. News gets shared, birthdays celebrated. And then, finally it's time to run.

This wednesday we had to do 3 sets - each set consisted of a 600, 400, 300, 200, and 100m run, with 200 m jog in between each of them. The goal was to run the 600 at current mile pace, and pick the speed up a little above that for the 400, a little bit more for the 300, and so on. The idea also is to do a 'net negative split'. In this case it translates to doing each set faster than the previous - i.e., when you are ready to run the 600 the second time around, run it a little faster than the previous 600. Sound confusing? So did it to me for the first 3 months...

I have been running lately with John, (who's in his late 40s/early 50s) and Marla (who's in her late 20s/early 30s). Their speeds are more or less similar to mine. Plus, John is one of the most steady people I've run with. He can announce what pace he wants to run a lap before he runs it, and nail it down to the second. Kinda like in a game of pool where you have to name your ball and pocket and send it exactly where you said you'll send it. And given that my watch has been out of commission, it was an especially good choice - this would prevent me from going too fast in the early sets and being unable to finish the workout.

Sticking with John and Marla turned out to be a good idea. We were pretty steady throughout, feeding off of each other. In the last set we tried to go all out, and I tried to run the last 300 faster than I should have, and ended up feeling like my legs were jelly for the last 100. Man, how far can 100 m seem sometimes! But overall, I felt pretty good about myself, feeling like I m finally back to nearly 100% after spending nearly 6 weeks in July/Aug fighting "walking pneumonia". We ended the day with 'Carl's cool-down technique" - which is a formula suggested by Carl, a fellow track clubber - running slow for 3 loops around the track does wonders for avoiding pain, stiffness and soreness after the workout. Not two, not 4. 3 loops exactly.

Regardless, I ended up feeling just a tad sore than usual - atleast one of my legs felt like lead throughout thursday. I suspect it's just a product of my increased mileage these days.

I m getting ready to move apartments in the next few days so won't be writing much - but am looking forward to this weekend - for our 18 mile long run. Obviously, this will be the longest distance I'd have ever run. That's the beauty of marathon training - every week you break your own personal record. Will report on how that goes...

A (not-so) lonely 12 miler

Our long run this past weekend was a 12-miler. Long runs, one every weekend, is THE main thing we do together as a group. Typically our long runs are on Sundays, but this time it was on a saturday due to some scheduling issues. I ended up going to the anti-war rally in San Francisco on saturday, and so had to miss the group run. But I was determined to get my mileage in for the week, so I decided to step out by myself on sunday morning, and do the 12 miler alone.

Our group weekend runs usually start super-early (by my standards) - 8am! But this sunday, since it was just going to be me, myself and I doing the running, I could start whenever I want! I decided to make the most of that, slept in later than usual. By the time I had added some gatorade mix into my water and parked my car by the santa cruz harbor (the starting point of the run), it was 9.30am! But I was feeling good and raring to go.

The course involved a long loop around the harbor, then along the santa cruz boardwalk, followed by running along the roads and pavements on the hills adjacent to the coast - running from the east to the west end of Santa Cruz. The bulk of my run was along this stretch of road called "west cliff drive" - which is a road that runs along the hilly bluffs that overlook the west santa cruz oceanfront. A paved walkway also runs along this stretch of road. And the moment I stepped onto West Cliff, I realized that this wasn't going to be a lonely run after all. The trail was bustling with people - runners, walkers, people with dogs, cyclists, moms and dads with kids in strollers. Looking sideways toward the ocean - waves crashing into rock, boats sailing, surfers attempting to tame waves and losing in that battle, and so on. It is such a different experience from say, running in the forest (which is what we did the weekend before). Running in the forest is truly beautiful, but there was something to be said for running amongst the hustle and bustle as well. I was thoroughly enjoying it.

The goal of this weekend's run was to get used to the feeling of running at our target marathon pace. The idea is to start off by running easy for the first 3 miles or so, to warm up. Then to run the next 4-6 miles at marathon pace - i.e, at around 9min/mile. And then run the last 3miles easy to wrap it up. My "marathon pace" stretch started at the beginning of west cliff drive, all the way to Natural Bridges State Park, and back. I didn't have my watch on me (currently broken after its battery died and its replacement didn't work), so I had no absolute way of monitoring myself... instead I decided that I would just run at a slightly higher level of exertion.

I cruised along till the turnaround point at Natural Bridges just fine. I had already done 3 miles at "marathon" pace. It was in the next mile that I started to feel it, and for the first time during the day, I started looking forward to the end. Still continuing on, I decided that I would resume people-watching to amuse myself. Turning to my left, looking at some of the houses that overlooked the ocean, I saw three kids sitting on the patio of a house. They looked at me, and then, hesitantly, waved. Almost as if I was in a passing train or something! I waved back, upon which the kids waved more vigorously and gave some of the most beautiful smiles I ve ever seen - and then the road took a slight bend and I lost them. Just a fleeting moment, but my spirits were lifted immensely. The next mile was breeze. Midway through the mile, I realized I was cruising and feeling extremely good about myself. Was this the fabled "runner's high"? Or was this just a result of those kids waving at me? Whatever it was, it really made my day.

I ran the last "marathon pace" mile hardest, and was ready to take a break by the time the 6 middle miles were done. Only 3 more easy miles to go. Soon, I was at the west end of the harbor. My car was at the east end - almost there! But these last two miles would turn out to be psychologically hard - since it involves a big loop around the harbor, a small channel of water separating the the two sides. You can see the other side and the end point, but you are just out of reach. Soon enough though, it was all over. As I reached the end, it was 11.45am, and the fog was starting to come in! It seemed like the fog had been just waiting for me to finish up.

The change of pacing during the run took its toll - I had sore knees and shoulders through sunday afternoon. Icing, and 9 hours of sleep that night helped quite a bit. But I must say I m looking forward to the next time I'll get to run alone on West Cliff Drive...

Its official: Im running my first marathon!

This week, I finally went ahead and did it - I registered for my first marathon! So - after MONTHS of rumination, back and forth, and after 3 different times over the past month when I *almost* signed up - I finally managed to gather the guts to go ahead and make the committment. So there's no turning back now.

I am running the California International Marathon (referred by people lovingly as Cal International). Sunday, December 4th, 2005 it will be. Exactly 10 weeks to go.

Cal International has quite a great sound to it - surely it conjures images of the great outdoors in this immensely well endowed state. You must be thinking - hmm, california - probably its a run along some stretch of the spectacular coastline? No, not quite. Well then - maybe a run through the grandness of the Sierra Nevada? Nope, wrong again! Well - it runs from Folsom to Sacramento - not exactly the most scenic part of the state. And no, I couldn't figure out whats so "international" about it..

But here's what's makes it GREAT for me - it is known as the 'fastest race in the west' - which, to us novice runners who don't care too much about speed, translates to - EASY!. Its a flat, net-downhill course, thanks to the fact that it is a one-way route. The weather also should be mild during that time of the year. (so long as it doesn't rain). And from the pictures on the website, looks like it might even be somewhat pretty..

Another reason for choosing this particular marathon is because of my track club. As some of you may know, I am a member of the Santa Cruz Track Club (which makes me sound like an athlete or something - but believe me, I m not) The SCTC is basically a gathering place for folks in the local community that are interested in running. Old and young, runners of all stripes and skills and speed (including folks who are just starting to run for the first time) are welcome here. The SCTC is a huge reason why running has become a part of my life in the last couple years. Hope to write more about SCTC in a later post, but I digress for now..

Where was I? Oh yeah. At the track club, in fall, folks band together to form "marathon training groups" every so often, aiming to train 3-4 months for a marathon at the end of fall or early spring. Last year there was one which had me tempted for 5 minutes, before I realized it was going to consist of all the super-speedy crazy guys. This year though, there is a different (read - normal) group of folks that also came together to start a marathon training group, aiming for a 4-hour marathon. And while I had no clue whether I was capable of running a 4-hr marathon or not, I knew some of the people in this group, and I have been more-or-less able to keep up with them during our short workouts on wednesdays - and that made me feel that this might actually work.

The big reason why marathons are such a big deal is because of the fact that doing it requires a lot more than just running ability to do it. Many people will tell you is that the marathon is in many ways a metaphor for life. Whether you are a novice or a great sprinter, one thing still holds - you cannot run a marathon without training for it. And so it requires discipline, diligence, perseverance, patience, and all of that good stuff. And after a point its not really about running ability, but more about making that committment, week after week, day after day - to go out and put in the miles. And hence, it REALLY makes sense to have a support group - or atleast a group of folks who are going through the same suffering, to go on those loooong, runs with, and who can keep you honest.

So here I was, thinking about a marathon (especially since in the last couple years I have seen quite a few of my friends and acquaintances do the thing) - and here there was, a group in my track club, consisting of normal, non-speedy folks forming a marathon training group just when I was starting to have some free time.. seemed too good for me to pass. And when my colleague Martin, who had never breathed a word ever about running before, suddenly mentioned out of the blue that he was running a marathon in Dec, I couldn't keep giving myself the same old excuses anymore.. [And his training efforts as it unfolds, continues to be quite inspiring]

So here we are. As of now, I am about a month into the training, and feeling at home with this small, motley crew of ours. The long run mileages are starting to climb - I already broke my personal record for the longest run last week - 16 miles!. Weekly mileage is starting to get past the 30 mile mark. The increased frequency of running and increased mileage are also making "running" a more central piece of my life than it has ever been. (This blog is a product of that). Which is good and bad, in some ways. And also starting to make my legs feel 10 pounds heavier. But, no injures so far, touch-wood. And am sure, as the mileage increases, there will be newer challenges to overcome, and richer experiences. I'll get to feel the "runners' high" (the result of increased endorphin release by the body causing you to feel really good, and feel like you can go on forever. Runners report it on especially long runs). And "The Wall" - the point in your run where you apparently feel, physically and psychologically that you CANNOT go on - a common thing that happens with marathon-level mileage, typically when people pass 20 miles. And many more unknowns.

Looking forward to all of that...

Why a running blog?

here's a top-10 list:
10. Got too much free time, i guess
9. Everyone else is writing a running blog, why shouldn't I?
8. to explore the blogosphere and its potential, from the inside, not just from the outside
7. to maintain a journal of my running regimen and make everyone else that's not running seem crazy
6. the fascinating psyche (read - craziness) of runners i know of, and the running community
5. to hear myself out loud. read my thoughts. over and over. (i m a narcissist)
4. to be even more engulfed with "running this, running that, blah, blah...
3. to get more energy, support and drive, from y'all in the process of running my first marathon!
2. to raise funds to support the cause of my cousin, who is fighting Leukemia (more on this soon)
1. to be really cool

got anymore reasons in your head as to why I should be writing (or NOT writing?) lemme know. leave me a comment.