Pushing through…

Come the third Sunday of January and you once again find yourself anxiously waiting on that familiar ground. You’ve done this 12 times before but you still feel that nervousness and that anxiety building in you.

So you get your warm up done with your fellow RBs, and of course with Coach and you slowly make you way to the start line, joining the crowds of runners as they are herded to their respective starting line up. You try and get some last minute advice from coach before you get into your line up.

You calmly walk while those around you run, knowing that in this walk you can actually find a way to settle the nervous anxiety that’s been bubbling under the surface. So you walk to the start line as the spotlights and fireworks light up your way, marvelling how gorgeous VT looks in its lit glory.

As you reach the start line you pause a moment to start all yours apps and watch. You sign yourself as your cross over the start line, knowing that your race has begun. 

You mutter a quiet “you’ve got this” to yourself as you run steadily at a comfortable and steady pace as you had planned, letting those around you go ahead, knowing somehow you will meet them again, if not on the route, then at the finish line.

You note the weather is humid, as expected, and you already broken into a sweat. As expected the weather changed and gotten a bit hot and humid. But despite this you have a quiet confidence. You know you’ve trained well and you already executed your plan with a good FM in November. So all you had to continue with the plan but stay safe and extra hydrated than you did at Ahemdabad.

As you reach Marine Line you feel this beautiful light breeze on your face, quite a welcoming sensation from the humidity that you felt at the holding area.

You make your way around the Air India building and loop and join your friend Jay, who along with some of his friend is a guiding a runner who’s running completely blind. 

You cheer them and wish them the best and continue on your run making your way around NCPA.

You get a huge shoutout from your friends at Asic/stride with GB cheer zone. You give your buddy Rupal a sweaty hug and you continue on your way down Marine Lines, running past the Navy Band who are regaling the runners as the pass by as well the Punjabi Dhol.

You take this all in, all part of the experience, all part of the joy of running the TMM.

So you make your way past Girgaum Chowpattty, past Wilson’s College, taking a turn onto Babulnath and on your way up Peddar Road. You decide to put on your earbuds and listen to some music as you continue on your way. 

You fumble and drop them but somehow manage to get them. You know you’ve spent some time in trying to do so but you don’t let it get to you. You just keep running.

From here it’s on to Haji Ali sea face. You cannot help but marvel at the fact how much things have changed here over the years you’ve run the Mumbai Marathon. You no longer can see the sea face. Instead you see the bridges of the coastal road, twisting and turning across the sea.

With this thought you smile and continue on your way happy knowing that you are holding a steady face.

By now you have the HM runners on the other side of the road. You give a shoutout to friends you see.

Finally you hit the sea link and it’s time to dodge runners who suddenly stop in the middle of the road so that they can capture themselves on the sea link. Not to forget the ones trying to run in front of photographers, giving some silly pose. 

You consciously run to one side, trying your best to avoid these morons. You realise that there are lesser water stations this time around on the sea link, especially when you need one.

You let out a sigh of relief as you finally complete the sea link. You’re happy that there’s no signs of cramps that you faced in the past when coming off the sea link.

You complete looping Reclamation and on to Mahim Causeway, reaching the starting point for the HM. You are well aware that soon you’ll be hitting the 25k mark, which as per your plan and coach’s direction, is when you start to push your pace.

As you make your way down Mahim Causeway you have these children cheering you with their outstretched arms waiting for a high five from the runners going by. You make way to the side and return every high five, return every smile with a smile of your own. The simple but precious joys and pleasures of running the Mumbai Marathon.

From here you reach the start line of the Half Marathon and you know it’s turn to shift to the next gear.

You steadily pick up pace but at the same time not going all out. You know you are running strong and everything seems to be going as planned. You try not to think about the weather and cramps and try to take it one step at a time, making up ground and time.

Just when you thought you would have a good race you start to feel the tightness in your calves. As you turn on to Worli Seaface cramps begin to set in forcing you to walk as you can no longer keep your pace. You desperately look out for salt or oranges and water, which was not there at the water station, instead you had Relaod, something that you didn’t want at the time.

After walking for a while you feel your calves loosen up and once again you begin a slow run. You know your pace has dropped but that’s something you would cope with. For now all you could think and hope that the cramps would not affect you more. You had to take it one step at a time.

As you make your way to Haji Ali sea face you desperately looking for water as you have to take your gels with it, but to your disappointment the water stations are stocked up with Fast and Up Relaod, which you didn’t need.

Finally, at Peddar Road, you find some good Samaritans distributing water. You take a bottle and thank them profusely and make your way up Peddar Road. This is one of the reason I’ve always felt that Peddar Road is one of the best part of the race and not the dreaded part cause the support here is amazing.

You decide to walk up Peddar Road rather than run it. So you slowly make your up. Despite the cramps and the frustration you make it a point to smile cause you have chose to not give up and continue and battle the elements and complete what you set out to do.

Reaching the top of Peddar Road you start to run once again, using the downhill to carry you on.

You finally make your way past Babulnath and on to Giragaum Chowpatty telling yourself there just few kms to cover.

By now your run is reduced to a walk-jog strategy as every time you try to run cramps set in. You try not be too disappointed and just continue on.

Finally at Wilson’s College you meet Charu, your savour, who’s got oranges and coke for you.

After a quick chat and some pics, you thank Charu for always being the rock star she is and continue on your way, eating the oranges and the sipping the coke.

You hobble most of the way trying to keep the cramps at bay but sadly they seem to love you and want to keep you company. So all you can do run-walk-jog and do the best you can.

Slowly and steadily you reach the water station manned by your friends from Stride with GB/Asics run club. Sadly, they don’t have the water you are looking for, what they do have is their warm cheer and smile and motivation. So after getting your legs sprayed  and clicking pics and you are once again off on your away, albeit you more hobbling instead of running.

With every step your muscles get cramped even more. You just close your eyes and try to push through it all, after all you didn’t come this far just to throw in towel. So you continue to push. And somehow you find that adrenaline rush that carries you through to the finish line.

As you near the finish line you see your friend Suni who cheers you on and tells you that you can still make it below 5 hours. So with that one final push you make it across that finish line as you raise your hands in triumph.

As you soon as you cross the finish line your legs feel like they would almost give way from under you but still cramped. You hobble about trying to make your way to the grounds. Each step you take shoot this agonising  pain, but you just close your eyes and continue walking, greeting and congratulating friends who have completed their run. You collect your towel and head to collect your medal and join your friends.

Though you smile, you have this feeling of disappointment, and hearing the timings of others doesn’t make it any easier. You try not to let it affect you but somehow it gets to you.

You needed this race to go well, with all the shit you’ve been through in the past couple of months, and when it didn’t go as planned and you didn’t get the outcome you trained for you are left feeling low, you feel you’ve let yourself down.

You needed this race to be shot in the arm, the boast you needed, the spark that would reignite the fire in you. You needed it to find that hope. But sadly it wasn’t meant to be.

You wonder what did you do wrong? Did you go too fast after running nice and steady for the first 25 km? Was it the finickiness of the Mumbai weather or was it lack of sufficient water station with water or even salt and orange that lead to the cramp?

In all these thoughts that keep plaguing your head you realised that there are positives which you can take from the race. You’ve been focusing so much on what you did wrong, the negatives, you’ve overlooked the positives of the run.

You proved to yourself that you have it in you to complete what you have started. And when the chips are down you can find it in you to push through. You didn’t give up when cramps plagued and threatened another DNF. You just closed your eyes and pushed through the agony and successfully completed your 10th Full Marathon, and that in itself was a great victory. 

You didn’t give up, you didn’t give in, you completed what you set out to do. This resilience in itself was the hope that you needed, the spark to light the flame, the proof that no matter how bad things may seem you had the strength and resilience to see things through.

So no matter the outcome you can hold your head up high and be filled with this sense of pride for what you have managed.

So with that you know it’s back to the drawing board and keep growing and improving and come back stronger in 2026.

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 Running Excursion

“Best of Luck...

.. and don’t fuck it up.”

-RuPaul

Well this was something that kept resounding in my head as race day steadily drew near. Something I was so wanting to say to all my fellow Runnaholic (thanks to RuPaul Drag Race... which I am addicted to watching). Consciously kept away from the 5 Stars this time around. But then as luck would have it, and my stomach too, I did fuck it up. Woke up in the morning to a gripping pain, a loose bowel (call it ill timed eating non-veg).

Though the target was to complete the race, standing at the holding area I felt could chase that PB (but a part of the head kept saying, abhe aukat main re and complete the race, PB later). 

So after the customary hugs and greetings, and that all important hug from Sangeeta Ma’am (one thing I have to always do, but best luck wish), it was off to the starting line, slowly and steadily moving with a bunch of nervous (that’s me) and excited (everyone else) runners busy chattering away, trying to focus, taking pics and selfies (to the people who light up Victoria Terminus (not going to call the building CST) why oh why the coloured lights, it ruins the architecture). 

So crossing the start line, switching on your Garmin, your NRC, and signing yourself, off you went, down the heritage road to fountain, on a ramp, thanks to the metro work. Now a pee break caused me to loose my buddy Dylan, who went off in a flash. Without music (for the first time), without my buddy Dylan, I swore was going to cross that bloody finish line.

All through the race you have your fellow runners coming to cheer you on or even patting you from behind and then overtaking you, so you end up fighting the urge to speed up, fighting back gripping pains (which was determined to make it presence felt at regular intervals). But once into the race, they were all but forgotten. 

As we Mumbaikars know, and are very well aware of, the weather can be finicky, and it didn’t stray from its mood swings, adding that extra dimension to the race. So the stomachaches were gone but once again started to feel that dizziness, bringing memories of the previous year. The feet suddenly felt like it was blistering (not from the pace that is), bringing with it the extra challenge, surprising you cause you’ve run in them before. So all along the head was popping this question “do you want to quit?” “It’s ok if you want to”, “why oh why do you torture yourself and sign up for this?” tempting you throw in the towel. But then you note that you have managed to go further than you did last year, and you can just as well do it, let the timing go for a toss.

So it was run and walk, with that strategy varying as the run went by. So for the first time clicked a pic on the sea link, courtesy of our star volunteer Charu. 

All through the route the spirit of Mumbai was on display, and kept proving why the Mumbai Marathon is more than a run (as an outstation Running group mentioned why), it’s about Mumbaikar, the people and the kiddos who spur you on. So thanks to the water stations, the official and the unofficial ones, to everyone who came there with water and hydration and fruits and jaggery, the children reaching out with water and high fives. Last year may have put me off Orsl, this year was grateful for all the oranges (cause we runners need it anyway), consumed quite a bit on route. And thanks tosoo many of running buddies who kept pushing me on, who I met on the way. Was grateful to see my MRR Family, who greeted me with hugs, Shweta and Ami putting some yummy dark chocolate in my hand, Alpa handing me a sip of Prerna yummy and refreshing drink (but not before she clicked a selfie). 

Thanks to my smile twin, Ajit for helping me stretch when my muscles were sore, and of course was awesome to see the ARC tribe who kept cheering and pushing (thanks Varun for that timely spray). 

So after passing the last MRR cheerzone, it was off to the finish, in the company of Vishy, paced by Vijit. Tried to sprint and up the pace to the finish line, but it seemed like it would never approach. But in the end gave it all that I had remaining in the tank, crossed that damn finish line. I would be lying if I said that timing didn’t disappoint me a Incy-winsy but, but hey was glad to finish at 5:00:01 (according to my Garmin, and 4:59:49 officially). I may have not achieved my PB, but hey got a PH. 

Felt awesome meeting fellow runners and buddies. The race was done and it was time to celebrate, and avoid asking that prickly question (what was your timing and how was your run), while answering as diplomatically as possible. No matter the time, I can say I was proud to finish what I started. 

So finally comes the thank you to all the people on the street, cheering you on, supporting your, the MRR and Malad  family (ones I couldn’t do without), the ARC tribe. Finally to my BNP stooges, Pankti and Dylan, without whom I would not have completed this run. So now it’s back to the drawing board and return to a normal life, till the next race.