..when Santa ran a Half Marathon... ok 21 k

I have always known him to be a jolly soul, always cheery, a bit loud, ok quite loud. Someone so full of life, someone always ready to support and lend a helping hand to those who need it the most. Someone who will always cheer and motivate you the loudest, as big as his personality. Someone who reminds you (and for that matter, everyone else too) of a holly jolly soul from the North Pole.

As he had been training diligently, it was a natural progression for him wanting to attempt a Half Marathon distance (that’s 21 km, for the uninitiated), and it was good he was attempting this distance on a supported training run which meant there was no timing pressure, running at a comfortable pace. And so we egged him on and cheered him on, the day before, boosting his spirits, trying to keep his josh high, only to add to the pressure of completing it. And in the words of the man himself, it felt like giving a board examination.

So on the day of the run I was quite happy to see him alight the rick, greeting him with the enthusiasm I could muster (after all who wakes at 3 am on a Sunday morning and not run... the answer to that is a crazy Admin). So after getting the warm up done (while you go on a clicking spree) and giving the necessary instructions and clicking the group pic, while trying to balance yourself on a wooden plank like platform, off they went.

After waiting for them to pass by I went to my water station, but not before seeing him pass by. Reaching the water station, I began to work with my fellow volunteers to prepare the hydration before the runners begin to flow. So once the hydration was ready you and your fellow volunteers go about doing what you do best, be buoyed by each other’s enthusiasm and that of the runners who stop by to hydrate, to chat, to click a selfie. You continue to be your cheery self, shouting (if not literally screaming it out) “Water, Fast and Up”, irrespective whether the runner stopped, just acknowledged, or plainly ignored you.

As a large group of runner arrive at your station you get busy serving them water and Fast and Up, preparing Fast and Up, chatting with them, enquiring about their run and the Unpredictable Mumbai weather. You get totally caught with your volunteering responsibilities that you begin to wonder if he passed you by. You ask friends if they have seen him pass by, cause somehow at the back of the mind you have this nagging thought that he would be amongst the last runners to reach the station. But then no one had seen him, and he already passed by the previous water station (which had packed up and headed to the end point), you begin wonder if he decided to give up, after all Mumbai weather can be treacherous, and can never be easy to cover the distance, especially for a first time runner. 

Your fellow volunteers think they saw someone like him pass by, but somehow something nags you that he hasn’t passed by. You reluctantly wrap up your station as the last runner has passed your station. However, you ask your fellow volunteers to wait for you as you get rid of the garbage from your station.

As you search for a dustbin to dispose off your garbage, you see him. He looks tired and weary, a bit hunched, running at a slow pace. But doggedly determined to cover the distance he set out to do. I breathe a sigh of relief, and can’t help but smile and cheer him on loudly. He may have been weary but spirit is high and the josh burning bright. He was still his jovial, cheery, loud self. And yes you couldn’t help but wear a really broad smile. 

You quickly try to find a garbage bin, but then by the time you get back to your station he has already passed and proceeded on his way. You finally wrap up the station, hail a cab, and you head to the end point. On your way you see him go, renewed and refreshed but still determined to finish it. You inform the other water station to be on the look out for him as he would be the last runner to cross, and then they can wrap up the station once he has passed by.

Reaching the end point you’re  greeted by runners who have completed their runs. You go about chatting and socialising and doing what an Admin got to do, avoid posing for pics but always ready to click. So while the cool down stretches are being done you go click happy, but not before you get your face smeared with blue colour. By that time the volunteers from the last water station arrive at the end point, which meant that he has successfully crossed the last water station. When you enquire about the same with the volunteers, they confirm that he indeed had passed the last water station. So you know that by hook or crook he’s going to complete his first 21k.

You get busy making announcements and trying to get the runners to assemble, talk over their chatter and fit them in a single frame (which trust me, is not quite an easy task, unless you are willing to fall off into the Arabian Sea)! But then he’s no where in sight and it has been a while since the last water station team has returned to the finish point, making him miss a majority of the post race shenanigans. So you begin to worry again, if he would make it. But the low and behold you see him in the distance. You can’t help yourself but let out a loud cheer, encourage him, and then when he finishes you beam proudly as he  raises his hand in jubilation, a victory of mind of over body, of dogged determination, a victory for himself.

If I could tear up I would, and I fight that feeling. Making me wonder if you ever got that emotional on seeing someone complete a run! But then you know you did that day, when Santa decided and completed a Half Marathon!