running. (4 dec)
It was crazy, today. I only managed to fall asleep at 2am, and by 3 I have to be up, preparing myself for trip to the Esplanade. Before we even move off, apprehension weighed me down like a 10 tonne anvil - how can I, who barely trained, who barely carbo loaded, who had 1 hr of sleep, be able to survive this self-inflicted ordeal? At the scream of the buzzers, I closed the option of withdrawal. The run continues.
But, all that I had feared came to pass. The poor carbo loading I had gave me endless troubles during the runs. I could not pick up speed though I had the energy, cos my tummy keeps acting up. I settled for a fast amble, which was really demoralising. It sucks, knowing you can run, but you cant cos of other factors. Somewhere along the way, I got separated from Jess and co. At that point, I truly felt a bit lost, and the prospect of 42km alone is pretty daunting. God provided, however. As I ambled along, I met this veteran marathoner, Jimmy (15 marathons). He was nice and gave good advice, and though he lacked speed, his steadfast steps were a welcome torch in the dark. I also got to know Valerie, a Chinese Mauritian domicile in SG (3 marathons). In the beginning, she was the token pretty face that gave inspiration for me to move on, yet little had I known then, that she would be my travelling companion for the next 30km. So us, a motley crew of Jimmy, Val and I, ploughed through the roads in unison. Must have been a funny sight.
My second fear surfaced at around the 21 km mark. My body ran out of salt and electrolytes, and since I only had 1 hr of sleep, my body was unable to efficiently ingest the salt in the isotonic drinks. From that point onwards, I gave up my run, and did brisk walking instead. At the hint of muscle tension, I slowed down my pace. Overworked and undernourished muscles groaned with every step I took, a ball and chain on my mobility. At one point, both my legs were cramped up, and even pounding my by fists failed to inject life into these cells. I stopped then, one amongst many stops along the way. If not for the encouragements of these veterans, my resolve would have weakened long ago. I walked on.
Soon, energy reserves ran low as well, and the promised energy gels were nowhere in sight at the 30km marks. Starved, cramped and hot (I wore black), the going nearly came to a jarring stop. Jimmy faltered, and took a slower pace, whilst Val and I persisted, at a measly 6km/hr, chatting about everything under the sun. It was pretty fun, that 10 km. We parted ways at 40km, for she started to sprint, and I was exhausted; my feet was so blistered that every step was made with pain. For the last 2km, I went solo.
The last 2 km was especially gruelling... you can see it on the faces of fellow marathoners, their anguish that they are ambling instead on loping away to the finishing line. In our brisk ways, we try as we might to keep up or even overtake. It was indeed inspirational, the determination written on the faces. All were injured, in one way or another - there was even this guy who was visibly limping, and yet he persevered. Encouraged by these sights, I started my own sprint, towards that finisher line.
In that last few moments, I discovered within myself this reservoir of energy, speed and endurance, which I never known existed. As I ran, I picked up speed, widened my steps, and started overtaking the people in front. When the Padang was in sight, speed grew faster, and I lost control off my legs. I ran like mad, and I finished. I was gripping my bottle hard to distract myself from the pain. Near the finishing line, my bottle burst.
The timing was bad, but hey, it is my first attempt. Gladder am I, for overcoming my deficiencies, my fears, and to know of people like Jimmy and Val. As I ran/walked/trotted, I cursed myself for my foolishness in joining. Now, with the finisher's medal hanging in the shelf I know for sure 2 things:
1. It was worthed it.
2. I will run again. This time, REALLY run.
But, all that I had feared came to pass. The poor carbo loading I had gave me endless troubles during the runs. I could not pick up speed though I had the energy, cos my tummy keeps acting up. I settled for a fast amble, which was really demoralising. It sucks, knowing you can run, but you cant cos of other factors. Somewhere along the way, I got separated from Jess and co. At that point, I truly felt a bit lost, and the prospect of 42km alone is pretty daunting. God provided, however. As I ambled along, I met this veteran marathoner, Jimmy (15 marathons). He was nice and gave good advice, and though he lacked speed, his steadfast steps were a welcome torch in the dark. I also got to know Valerie, a Chinese Mauritian domicile in SG (3 marathons). In the beginning, she was the token pretty face that gave inspiration for me to move on, yet little had I known then, that she would be my travelling companion for the next 30km. So us, a motley crew of Jimmy, Val and I, ploughed through the roads in unison. Must have been a funny sight.
My second fear surfaced at around the 21 km mark. My body ran out of salt and electrolytes, and since I only had 1 hr of sleep, my body was unable to efficiently ingest the salt in the isotonic drinks. From that point onwards, I gave up my run, and did brisk walking instead. At the hint of muscle tension, I slowed down my pace. Overworked and undernourished muscles groaned with every step I took, a ball and chain on my mobility. At one point, both my legs were cramped up, and even pounding my by fists failed to inject life into these cells. I stopped then, one amongst many stops along the way. If not for the encouragements of these veterans, my resolve would have weakened long ago. I walked on.
Soon, energy reserves ran low as well, and the promised energy gels were nowhere in sight at the 30km marks. Starved, cramped and hot (I wore black), the going nearly came to a jarring stop. Jimmy faltered, and took a slower pace, whilst Val and I persisted, at a measly 6km/hr, chatting about everything under the sun. It was pretty fun, that 10 km. We parted ways at 40km, for she started to sprint, and I was exhausted; my feet was so blistered that every step was made with pain. For the last 2km, I went solo.
The last 2 km was especially gruelling... you can see it on the faces of fellow marathoners, their anguish that they are ambling instead on loping away to the finishing line. In our brisk ways, we try as we might to keep up or even overtake. It was indeed inspirational, the determination written on the faces. All were injured, in one way or another - there was even this guy who was visibly limping, and yet he persevered. Encouraged by these sights, I started my own sprint, towards that finisher line.
In that last few moments, I discovered within myself this reservoir of energy, speed and endurance, which I never known existed. As I ran, I picked up speed, widened my steps, and started overtaking the people in front. When the Padang was in sight, speed grew faster, and I lost control off my legs. I ran like mad, and I finished. I was gripping my bottle hard to distract myself from the pain. Near the finishing line, my bottle burst.
The timing was bad, but hey, it is my first attempt. Gladder am I, for overcoming my deficiencies, my fears, and to know of people like Jimmy and Val. As I ran/walked/trotted, I cursed myself for my foolishness in joining. Now, with the finisher's medal hanging in the shelf I know for sure 2 things:
1. It was worthed it.
2. I will run again. This time, REALLY run.
posted by Zachary Shim | 3:46 pm
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