Monday, February 27, 2023

I ran a 50k.. but I am no Ultra Runner


So I ran a 50k, an Ultra, in running terminology (just in case you were wondering what is this jargon cause the only Ultra you know is your ultra strong beer), but I am no ultra runner. As I mentioned in my Insta post, that’s if you follow me, I.e. rodmandsouza (damn, me and my shameless self-promotion), a single ultra run doesn’t make you an ultra runner. I am neither inclined towards it nor do I have time to train for it , cause it can take the hell out of your daily life, that’s if you even have one thanks to us being slaves to our jobs. It’s never been on my bucket list of things I wanted to do (I did, at one time, toyed with the idea of running the Comrades), but still I found my myself standing at that starting line up waiting for the  click to strike 1:30 (that’s in the am and not the pm, and root cause of my bane).

So here I was at the starting line, waiting for the race start. I had done my stretching, courtesy of Coach, and done all the pre race mingling and socialising, so it was now the time to run. So moment the clock struck 1:30 and the fireworks went off, it was now time to run. So I start off all my apps (well it was three plus my iWatch, damn that’s a lot of tracking devices), make the sign of the cross (though I am not overly religious but these little beliefs I do), and I am off.

I realise I am bringing up the rear, there’s a sea of runners in front of me (surprisingly there are plenty of runners participating in the 50k), but try not to give into the temptation of speeding up. I have this constant voice in my head that sounded like Natty, Maya and my dearest Sangy ma’am , telling me to go slow and start easy and conserve energy, or maybe it’s just my sleep deprived mind playing tricks on me. But whatever it maybe, I am determined to run nice and easy.

So you run pass sleepy villages and sleepy dogs who just ignore you, their sleep way too important than to chase and bark after a group of crazy fools who are pounding the road instead of being tucked up in their beds. You run pass Bushy Dam and reach INS Shivaji, and from there begins your climb.

You decide to walk the slope, paying heed to the advice of Quintin and Ajay, not burning up energy tackling them. And while you run up the slow you take in the moment. The moon’s nowhere to be seen, and stars are out in all their glory. In the distance you have the lights of the town. And if that wasn’t enough, you have the headlamps which you were asked to carry, making it feel like a stream of fire flies slowly making their way up the hill, a kind of homage to the lantern scene from the movie Tangled.

So you slowly make your way up the hill, walking the slopes, slowly jogging where the route flattened. You can heat someone behind you chanting some shlok, which kind of bothers you, but then you are saying your rosary, like you always do (and because you are missing your Sunday mass), you try not to loose focus.

You finally make it to the top, and off you go, trying to run at a steady pace, walking up slopes, but running steadily and constant, not pushing for pace.

It’s a beautiful night, and although the moons is nowhere to be seen, the twinkling stars more than make up for it. There’s a chilly nip in the air that occasionally makes you shiver, making you feel glad you chose to wear a tee and not a vest, like you love to do. There’s silence, except for the feet stomping the road, and the chirping of crickets and the hum of the electricity flowing through the cables above.

You have this constant fear that you may need to crap, since you were not able to do your business in the morning, then you may need to go behind some bush to relieve yourself, like you have done before (shhhhh let this be our little secret). But thankfully that fear doesn’t come to pass.

As you pass by Cloud 9, you miss Srini Sir, with whom you have volunteered so many times in past training runs.

You continue to run up and down inclines and declines, past volunteers who are there in the dark to guide you, past photographers who make you hit your best strides and smiles, running slowly but steadily.

Soon you become kind of restless. You want the the u-then to appear soon, you already past the 35k u-turn, but your u-turn is nowhere in sight. It doesn’t help that you know when the turn will come and your apps doesn’t make it easy by telling you how far you are.

Then you see the first runner go by you, then a second and a third , and so and so forth. You gradually see all those fire flies coming your way, bringing you hope that the much awaited u-turn is coming up soon, but again your apps tell you to be patient .

You try to make out your friends, as they pass you, wondering if you could just turn there and joining them instead of running all those kms. But you continue to soldier on. When you you finally reach the u-turn, it’s like a great relief, you finally reached the halfway mark of you crazy adventure.

And then it’s hits you like a ton of brick. No, no, it’s not the infamous wall, but it was sleep. You begin to doze off, like only you could do, veering treacherously off the road, like a drunken runner who’s had one too many beers before going for a run, or a zombie that’s decided to take up running.

I try hard to wipe the sleep off my eyes, but that doesn’t help. I even put off my music and put my earbuds back. I constantly keep

pouring and splashing water on my face and my eyes, but that doesn’t quiet help either. For a few moment I am wide awake and then I am off in another world, only to find myself in the bushes, like only this sleepy head can do  (just ask Natty and Rups about my capacity to fall asleep). I even approach an ambulance hoping there’s someone who could help me, or even offer me a place to sleep. I even toy with the idea of just going off the road and going to sleep (after all the beautiful cool weather didn’t make it easy in my fight against sleep). I even contemplated about giving up, but then Greens don’t give up, oops I meant D’souzas never give up. So I once again soldier on, constantly battling sleep, constantly veering here and there like a drunken running fool.

A few runners stop by me asking me if I was ok. I sheepishly tell them, well make that sleepishly, tell them that I am ok, just damn sleepy. My head starts to question myself why did I even take up this stupid silly endeavour and at this ungodly hour. But for now there’s nothing I can do but like Dory, but on land, I have to just keep running.

I pass by water stations who by now have run out of water, making you feel the pain of all the slow runners, making you feel worried for the ones behind you. But you can only keep running and hope nothing untoward happens.

By now the suns up but you are grateful that it’s not hot but rather pleasant. The sounds of the birds chirping is like music to the lonely ears.  But every rustling sound in trees makes you attentive least something should leap out and surprise you, and not in a good way. 

By now your sleepiness has gone but there’s still quite a lot of road to cover, and you have miles to go before you sleep (couldn’t resist adding this) and inclines to cover. But now you can proceed steadily.

You finally reach then airforce station, knowing that now it will be just declines and rolling hills, things you can easily cover. So you grab a gloucose water and you are running steadily and strongly, knowing there’s roughly just 10 more kilometres to cover.

By now you are passing your well wishers who had stopped and checked on you when you were sleepy, who marvel on how you were able to make up time. You cheer your fellow runners on, like you love to do, and having conversations too. But once you hit downhill you run steadily and strong and focused knowing there’s just few more kilometres to go. And you got this in the bag.

You marvel at the fact that you haven’t felt s single cramp or muscle pull or soreness. So you definitely did something right. And touchwood, that wouldn’t happen for the last part of the race.

You surprise yourself that you are running at a pace that you started, and though it maybe slow, you don’t feel sore, just you feel a bit tired.

You finally hit the last part and you are even able to speed up and overtake runners, speeding down the ramp and to the finish line, without a single cramp.

You give yourself a cheer and a pat on your back for pushing through sleep and the urge of wanting to giving up, persevering on and getting the run done.

Well no run is complete without gratitude for the people who got you there.

So a big thank you to my dearest coach Jayesh, who has been pushing me and keeping me on my toes, and bearing with all my whining and grumbling (I can be quite the grumpy old man) with regards to my fitness and strength training, which is very important for us runner. 

To coach Girish for your constant motivation and inspiration and your tips and guidance on tackling TUM and not to forget the training runs (although I ran only once and volunteered for the remaining, which is more like me).

To my dearest Sangy ma’am, your advice is my blessing. 

To my support system, my backbone, my constant North Star, Nikhil, Natty, Maya, Rups and Yash, you all gave me so much positivity, and encouragement, even when I doubted myself.  You believed me more than I believed in myself.

To Quintin and Ajay, I learnt soo many things running with you both, so many things I could apply in the race and that worked well. 

To Dyloo l and Panks, I am because I was  able to run with you. 


And to my Stride with GB and MRR family, I am each day grateful that I am part of such wonderful group of runners who have constantly inspired and motivated and cheered me on.

And finally to my family, for being there for me (if my mum was there she would have scolded me for running s 50 and not a 35).

So to answer the question I started with, would running a 50k make me an ultra runner? The answer still is a resounding NO. Cause even though I was able to attempt and complete an ultra, I don’t see myself doing one again (although I am not quite shutting the door on that one), I don’t plan to run another. But then who knows, if some crazy pagal kutta may bite me and I will attempt another. So till then I will savour the fact I ran a 50k and was able to complete it.

2 comments:

Ajay said...

Very well written Roddy...heartiest congrats for ur 50k.

Kameshwari kulkarni said...

I lived through your experience and your journey of ahemmm ...an ultra marathoner. Beautiful , honest writeup. Thoroughly enjoyed reading this. There were lines that gave me goosebumps. Hearty congrats and kudos to you for completing your maiden 50k.