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.