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!