The Boy in the Pink Shade: TMM 2024

There are only so few things that are sure in life. Birth, death, change, taxes, and in my case, running the Mumbai Marathon, which I have been doing every year, without fail, ever since my first official Half Marathon in 2011. The only years where I missed it was during the pandemic. But then you can’t miss something that didn’t happen.

So once again, in just over two weeks, you find yourself amongst a sea of runners, and this time it’s really a sea of runners. There are so many runners that if you tried to do a leg swing you would have surely kicked someone up their golgappas. You would certainly have found an easy way to help control the population. You could take someone’s eye by simply swinging your hand.

So there you are, desperately trying to find a way to warm up. You are no longer just another face in the crowd, a stranger in the night, ok in the early morn. You are in place where everyone knows your name. Well not quite everyone, but a large chunk of people really know you (and even, for the love of god, you can’t remember theirs). So you are all smiling and wishing everyone luck, squeezing in for selfies with friends, which actually helps as it takes away the nerves that you are feeling (even if you keep telling yourself that this is only a 21km).

As the clock slowly winds down to the start time, you spot Sangy ma’am and Sunil sir. You make your way to them to take your tight hug from Sangy ma’am, as it’s customary before every TMM. It’s your good luck charm and their blessings. Along the way you also steal some hugs meant for for your burgers and fries, Natty.

Once you got your hugs you make your to your holding area for your line up. Though you try to be calm, you are bit worried that you would be clubbed with runners who would be more interested in clicking selfies on the Sealink and the effort you would have to zig-zag your way through them.

To your delight your area is open and most of the runners have made their way to the start line. So all you have to do is  slowly jog to the start line as you know there’s no need to hurry.

Slowly the clock winds down signalling the start, and the race is officially flagged off. You gulp down your gel and sip water, and then once again starting all your apps as you pass the start line. This time you have your music to keep you company.

You start slowly and cautiously but steadily because it’s dark and you can’t really afford to have another fall and get anymore stitches, and most importantly, you need to let the ones in a hurry to go ahead. You just have to run to the plan that coach Dan set for you.

You slowly pick up your pace a bit as you hit the Reclamation and from there the Sea-link, where you have to dodge runners who have spotted the photographer and are running right towards them with arms wide ope, not to hug the poor chap (I think the poor chappy could do without those hugs), it’s just something that runners do on the Sealink. 

By now you are running at good steady pace, happy to have your music on as it drowns out the din that’s somehow makes you uneasy. 

You know you are running strongly and smartly, controlling the urges to speed up, conserving your energy for the last part. Even then you know your pace is quick and going from strength to strength, and at this rate you would easily cross the finish line within two hours, which was the target you set for yourself.

For most part, the route feels familiar. But then there are parts which make you go “hmm, well this is new!”maybe because it’s been a while since you ran a Half at the Mumbai Marathon. In fact, the last time you ran a half its was SCMM and not TMM.

By the time you reach the half way mark you are pretty content by the way things are going. You feel no discomfort, apart from the bit of uneasiness you feel in your stomach, thanks to the ice cream indulgence. But apart from that there’s nothing to complain about. Well there’s one thing, you wished the streets were more lit up and less dark, especially considering all the construction work and all the possible trip hazard.

You are happy that the weather is holding up well. In fact, it felt cooler from when you started, possibly because of all the people in the holding area who could easily spike the temperature, and not necessarily because of their hotness. But then the weather wasn’t going to be a factor for you. You are targeting a sub two so you would be done and dusted even before the sun came up. The only thing you would need to be careful would be of the dark and the construction work from the Coastal Road and the Metro.

You finally make your way to the dreaded Peddar Road, which actually is not scary. Yeah it does slows your pace, but it also has the best crowd support. Where else would you have the hoitty toitty of Mumbai come on the road to serve you water and oranges. Also, because you have been running a t a steady pace, conserving your energy, you know you make it over this speed breaker and you’ll be off to the last few kms to the finish line.

As you steadily make your way up you are on the lookout for your friends at the MRR water station, which you miss because of all the FM runners, and then you have your music blaring in your ears that it even drowns out Shweta who’s cheering you on.

Once you reached the top of Peddar Road, it is time to shift into high gear, as you had planned.

So swiftly and surely you make your way past Babulnath and onto Chowpatty thanking your friend and fellow RB Tomcy, who’s cheering for you.

You finally get this sense that a sub 2 is within your grasp. Well it’s not your first sub 2, it’s not even your PB. But it’s the first sub 2 you’ve achieved post pandemic, after getting control of your weight issues, and first one you’ve done under a structured training of Dan Sir. So there’s a lot you’ve gotk o be proud of yourself .

So you continue to run confidently by the water stations manned by your friends at SWGB and MRR giving high fives and thanking them. You spot Charu and Rahul at the MRR water station and seeing them powers you up.

By now you are confident that you’ve got this, you just have to keep going and find that last gear to give it your all.

You take that last turn and you have the finish line in sight. You see the arch with the clock counting down the time. You see the coloured flags and the red carpet. You know you finally made it to the end. 

So you give yourself one last burst as you race to the finish line, punching the air as you make it across, elated and happy and proud that you achieved what you set out to do. You ran to a plan, you ran smartly, and not really swiftly, conserving your energy for when it really mattered. 

There were so many things you could be proud of. You finally got that sub 2 that you were struggling to achieve post the pandemic. And though this was not really your best time, but then this was the just the tip of the iceberg and your best is yet to come. You could now put the memories of your FM in Dubai to rest, though you are not going to let yourself forget it cause you will be using it as the fuel for your training and future runs. And what more you did it in style, in your blue Athlos gear and your pink Craycol glares (and no, this not me trying to be an influencer or a collaborator).

Somehow these two runs have lit a fire in your belly. They built this quite confidence that you could actually hit your best.

So with this indulge in some post  run shenanigans of clicking pics and selfies.

You collect your towel and your medals and your goody bag hoping there’s no thepla in it. 

You wished they cut down on the amount of walking you had to do to collect that much deserving medal. You wished there was much more order to collect your bags as it was chaotic and confusing and runners who have done with their run really don’t have patience. So much they could be done better.

So once you collected your bags and excitedly jumped and hugged your friends and indulged in all the selfies, you make your to the water station where you spend the next 4 hour handing water to runners and cheering them, things that are so you, things you like to do. 

You literally scream yourself hoarse cheering the full marathoner as they pass by, some running strongly and steadily , few hobbling a bit with cramps but refusing to give up, people who need all the support and motivation. 

By now the weather is warmer than it was when you started. And then you have the infamous humidity, making you grateful that you chose to do the half and not the full.

So you stand there, in the company of your friends, offering them ice and water and oranges, cheering them, telling them that they have a few kms left  (oscillating between 3 to 2 to kms), egging them on to give that one final push.

You are excited cheering your RB , SWGB and MRR friends on, but you are the most happy and relieved when you finally see that damn Manoos, that Santa, Herzel reach the station. You scream and hug and hand him the water and warn him never to do this again without proper training (a sentiment I am sure is echoed by others at the station, I know Srini sir does).

So once Herzel is off to the finish line, you continue to volunteer till the last runner passes by (or you assume is the last runner) and the roads are open. You know it’s time to return home. You’ve been awake and on your feet for well over 12 hours and though you spirit is still high, inside your body feels like a zombie craving for rest and not flesh. 

So you leave with a heart full of sweet and sweaty  memories of another run in the bag (yes oblivious of the fiasco going on elsewhere) knowing that this run has somewhere, somehow ignited the belief that your best it yet to come. So here’s to many more TMMs to come!

Running in the land of the Sheikhs: The Dubai Marathon 2024

During every full marathon, there comes a time when you are hobbling and cramping, trying your best to push yourself over that damn last few kms, you promise yourself that you’ll never do this ever again, never put yourself through this pain again, and still you go ahead and register for another, and this time you’re going international, and not the usual TMM. 

Looks like you are sucker for  the pain. You find pleasure in putting yourself through all that cramping and hobbling and cursing and wondering why you do this to yourself. 

You find pleasure in those hours and hours of training, running on empty streets at ungodly hours, barked at by dogs (not chased, cause somewhere I have found a way to continue running believing in the saying that barking dogs seldom bite ( god I do hope I am right)). Running in the dark park under the watchful eyes of the furry one (or so you assume).

So you find yourself amongst a sea of runners. Well not a sea of runners. If you want to see a sea of runner you need to see the start line of the half marathon at TMM (or  so I’ve heard and will get to see this time around).

Getting back to the point, so you find yourself amongst all these runners of varied nationalities, ethnicities, race, colour, gender, orientation, and I could go on and on. A virtual melting pot. You desperately try to find that one familiar face in the crowd, which makes you miss the start line at TMM where you cannot go a centimetre without bumping into someone you know, someone asking you what is the time you are targeting, someone wishing you the best.

So when you see someone wearing a past TMM singlet or Stadium Run tee (even if it was  from Bangalore and not from Mumbai ) you feel a sense of familiarity, a sense that you are not on your own.

As the race clock countdowns to the start, you quickly start off all your tracking apps (you can never be too sure by running with one single app), and you start your watch as you cross the start line (that makes around three apps and one watch helping me track my run). Then it hits you, not really like a ton of bricks, but somewhere it dawns on you like the sun that’s slowly lighting up that Dubai skyline, you are really doing this, and now you’ve got 42kms to go.

You steadily make your pass the iconic Burj-al-Arab, focused on the Jumeriah skyline in front of you that’s slowly lighting up as the sun rises from its slumber. Your favourite toothpick is nowhere to be seen. To be honest, how do you see something that’s behind you when you don’t have hindsight or rear view mirrors.

Somewhere down the road you get sense you are passing the Palm.

By now you try to run steadily and what you assume slowly, letting others in a hurry pass you as you don’t want to hasten down the route, trying hard not to give into temptation and speed, running as Dan sir advised, in the first part, don’t push the pace but let the pace come to you.

You chance to glance at your watch to realise that you are going at a faster pace than that you had plan to run your first part of the race. 

You begin to worry wondering if you were going too fast, fearing the cramps and soreness that would come from it.

But then this felt effortless. Your weren’t pushing yourself to maintain this pace. So you kept going steadily. 

Was this the pace coming to me? Somewhere deep inside me was this hope that maybe, just maybe, if I am able to maintain this, then that PB was within my grasp.

So with this knowledge I came up to the first u-turn, with three more to come, kind of happy and satisfied at the pace at which you are going.

You once again make your way  pass the Burj-al-Arab. This time you are tempted to take a pic with it in the background knowing it will a good picture for the blog you’re going to write about the run.

But then you run past it not wanting to break the steady pace you have been going at. Also you know that you’ll get another opportunity on your way back.

So you continue to trudge along doing a system every now and then to check if all system are firing in all cylinders. Even the slightest twitch gets you a bit riled wondering if your muscles are tightening. But then you slow down a bit, calm yourself and you continue on your way.

As you make your way on an empty streets you are surprised to see people come out there to cheer and support you, besides the volunteers at the water stations. 

There are the running groups manning the the unofficial water stations, offering you bananas and oranges and electrolytes and water and what looked like gummy bears.

Then you had the usual family and friends standing there to cheer their loved ones.

You also had spectators who cheered you by calling out your name after reading them off your bib, and even dancing to cheer you on. All on in it was really good to see them and on that road cheering and motivating you.

What caught me by surprise was someone actually calling me Roddy as nowhere was I wearing anything with the name Roddy on it and only those who know me, know this name. It left me wondering who exactly was this angel soul.

And then you had this person wearing a unicorn onesie giving  out unicorn power blast to anyone who needed it. Actually it was anyone who tapped her board. This brought a smile in your face as you tap and hi five her.

Besides these there are many others who are there to support and cheer you on, taking you by surprise, as Dubai isn’t known for people braving the Dubai sun to cheer you, and yet here you had them, not exactly in full force, not forced, but there to cheer you.

You meet a gentleman from Powai ( I shall refrain from calling him uncle cause you know you are one too). You enthusiastically discuss about all things Mumbai and if you know this soul and that soul (thankfully no asshole), whether you have run this race and that and what’s your next race. Actually learned that we would both be doing a HM at TMM.

Slowly and steadily you get to that third u-turn. You once again find yourself on your own. You know your pace has dropped a bit but it’s isn’t a cause of panic cause all systems have been working well so far. So you don’t get into that panic mode.

Lo and behold each km passes you by. You feel you’re in a comfortable position and if you continue in this pace you will get there in good time. You try and enjoy the people who have come out to cheer the runners own, clasping and shouting encouragement, giving you hi-fives, and even dancing in the street.

You take it all in, the route, the weather, you are actually running a marathon on foreign soil , an international marathon. But then the Mumbai Marathon is also an international marathon, so technically this isn’t your first international marathon. 

You don’t mind that it’s mid-morning and the weather is getting a bit warmer, you been pouring water on your head and the nape of your neck to keep yourself cool.

You make your way past the half way mark and you do it in a good steady time. Catches and cramps and tightness are now all but a distance memory. So there’s a bit of confident calmness that you got this, if you can just executed those final kms as coach said.

You make your way past the fourth u-turn. This time you click a pick with the Burj-al-Arab in the background and the awesome soul in the unicorn onesie.

You decide to walk a bit before you reach the 30th km after which you know you will have to push it.

So after you reach that 30th km you start trying to run quicker. Everything seems to be going well so far. But then too much of a good thing ain’t always a good thing.

By this time you get a bit impatient. You can see the 35th km on the other side of the road, making you wonder when will that 34th km come and with it the final u-turn and your way back.

When you finally make your through that last turn you breathe knowing that you only have this one stretch to complete.

And then like an unwanted guest that comes visiting you, you start feeling your legs, you start feeling tightness and cramp.

In your head you go oh no, not this again, and all those memories of you cramping comes flooding back in your head, and with bringing that sinking feeling. 

You wonder if you somewhere manifested this soreness.

You are determined to make it across the finish line, if not your PB maybe at the baseline that you gave yourself.

By now your are alternating between hobbling, jogging, walking down the route, trying hard to take motivation from the people standing there cheering you own.

You keep pouring water on your head almost making you feel like you are having your very own Mandakini moment, almost making you feel like you are having a bath in the middle of that Dubai road.

By now the people who you passed are now passing you, and this is never a good feeling.

You see a family with a “Go Emily” poster and then you have Emily pass you by. You even have the runner from Bangalore who was wearing a NEB Bangalore stadium run tee l, who was complaining about the weather pass you.

You desperately stop at an aide station asking to spray your tight muscles. You actually stop at any point where you see a volunteer with a spray.

You try your best to get a slow and steady space till the tightness of your muscles makes you want to scream , asking yourself what the hell did you get wrong this time.

Your mind directly goes to the weather and an imperfect hydration plan. But then you’ve trained in a humid weather, so a possible reason could be you got your hydration all wrong.

Slowly and steadily you make your way down the last stretch. By now you have whole lot of runners pass you by, even the gentleman from Powai. Runners who you could have finished ahead (and this not me really being cocky).

In the final stretch you are left to the elements as you have no shade anywhere in sight and you’ve got to brave the sun burning down on you.

You try to give it that final burst, but everytime you try to push yourself your muscles begins to pull and cramp forcing you to stop.

You take a deep breath and continue to push on, raising your hand as you finally make it across that finish line, partly because you are relieved that you made it , you survived, partly you want some dramatic finish line pics.

Somewhere you kind of realise that you haven’t shaved your armpit so you are actually flashing your armpit hair. But in that moment you don’t mind it, you are being au-natural.

You collect your medal, click a pic with it (like it is customary), hobble to collect your goodie bag, which doesn’t contains theplas and cake but some nutritious fruits. You call up your sis to come and pick you and you continue to hobble to collect your bag from the baggage counter.

You have this mixed feeling. You have this disappointment that once again, despite all your trainings, and trying to keep to Dan sirs advice., despite of running a good 75% of the race strongly, you still had to face those dreaded cramps. 

Though you started the race with this fear of cramping, but during the race you felt that you were worrying for nothing, only to have manifest your fears in the 10 odd kms.

You wonder what did you get wrong. Was it your hydration strategy? Was it the weather? You even grumbled about the late start of the race. Or did you go too fast? But then that was not possible since you were running evenly and quite comfortably.

You would learn, from your discussion with Dan sir, that it was about running at a pace faster than what you had trained at, targeted for, and this actually was the cause  of the fatigue and you hitting that wall. Something you had kind of known and still did it, like history repeating itself because you keep repeating your mistakes.

Then this feeling of loneliness and being all alone. You passed runners with their friends and runners with their families, here you were with no one you knew. You couldn’t help but miss the finish line at TMM, no matter however chaotic it maybe. At least then you knew there were so many familiar faces you would bump into, you could congratulate, who would click pics with you, who would click pics for you and you didn’t have to use your watch and timer.

In the flip side, you were happy that you got your mandatory annual FM out of the way of the way, and not in the humid Mumbai weather.

There’s the ease at which you ran at least 75% of your race gives you the belief that with training at a quicker pace would definitely help you do better, and he’s with coach’s help you definitely will get there. 

Lastly, and most importantly, it’s never easy to run a marathon(especially for someone like me), considering the amount of training you have to go through and the amount of time you have to dedicate to training. So deciding to do one done, that to on international soil, and to complete it, it quite the achievement in itself. Something you definitely can be proud of.

You maybe disappointed but there’s always a lesson to be learned, a fire that will keep burning within you. You know you can come back stronger and better. 

So there’s a lot to be proud of, there’s a lot to look forward to. You that you’ve got miles to go before you hanging up those running. In fact, you never know want to that.

As your sister reaches to where you have been standing , you hobble into the vehicle, happy to see Sparky in the back

seat. You hug and cuddle and kiss him , happy that he’s there. You put the medal on him and hug him tight, and some how all your worries disappear.

So for now, you’re happy that you have this one in the bag, and here’s a toast to all the races that is to come.

The Runner’s PTSD

I wonder if runners suffer from PTSD. Do we carry the trauma and fear of our last run with us? Do the events of our past races remain with us like a scar we can no longer get rid of?

Well if PTSD is a thing that you think you have  then I must confess that I think I am going through one.

All the muscle pulls, tightness, the inability to run cause you went too fast to begin with, all the dehydration and the low blood sugar level cause you decided to eat and try to sleep way to early. 

Then not forgetting the time when you literally fell a sleep on your feet, like only you can do, while running an ultra, all because it started way too early and you didn’t get your prerequisite amount of sleep. 

Well you didn’t really sleep on your feet but you did spend a good part of an hour dozing  on your feet trying hard not to sleep.

So now, as you stand on the cusp of yet another marathon, you still have these doubts and questions playing with your mind, tinkering with your head. And even though you’ve prepared well for it, you still have your doubts, your fears of going too fast, getting muscle pulls and catches, of hobbling and having to walk for most of the way, or worst still having to DNF.

You question your sanity of putting yourself through it all again, but still here you are almost embarking in yet another full. You know it that PTSD or no you’ve got  this and you can do this, cause no matter what happened in the past, all your fears need to be conquered, all the past needs to put behind cause that’s how you will be able to to move forward and be better than yourbest. That way you’ll be able to over come your running PTSD.