Saturday, October 15, 2005

2005 Portland marathon

5:00 AM
The loud sound of the rude alarm woke me up quicker than a hammer to the head. Groggily I groped around in the darkness of this unfamiliar room to find the light switch. The light turned on with an irritating cheerfulness that I felt was inappropriate for this time of the morning. A quick steamy shower to combat the chillness of this Sunday Portland morning, I was definitely having pre marathon jitters. Meera, Sriks and Harish (henceforth referred to as the trio) were already awake and were huddled over the course map like it was a treasure map. Harish looked bright enough after his 3 hour sleep- must be the excellent coffee he brews.

6:00 AM
We all step out into the cold air. Its still dark and this doesn’t help my shameless nervousness. Harish drives us out as the three chat cheerfully with no encouragement from me- I’m unusually silent. I’m afraid if I open my mouth the butterflies in my stomach will flutter right out. The carbo loading from previous night makes my stomach feel extra queasy amply fueled by my growing anxiety.

Harish declares he is lost. After a quick look at my mortified face, he says he was just kidding. We near downtown Portland as he navigates us through the maze of streets. The deserted streets have a look of sleepiness which is enhanced by the absence of a sun that just won’t rise yet.

As we near the starting area, we see runners materialize out of cars that stop hastily. Myself and meera quickly pop out. Harish and Sriks will find some place to park and meet us at the start line. We just follow the various runners as they head towards a general roar coming a few blocks away. We turn a corner and find ourselves bang in the middle of 12000+ marathoners and as many spectators. As I see this huge crowd a shiver runs down my spine. Soon I will be running with this mob.

Its around 6:45 now, Harish and Sriks have spotted us and are doing their best to wade through the people. The excitement in the air is like caffeine- it revives me completely. I don’t notice the cold air anymore. The sun continues to be stubborn and refuses to rise for the day.

7:00 AM
I miss the sound of the starting gun or cannon or whatever it was. I’m caught by surprise as the people in front of me start shifting ahead as the people in front of them move on. People around me are leisurly walking now- the marathon has begun. The pack leaders must be sprinting now as we take what resembles a walk in the park. After a few minutes I step on something soft- it’s the starting mat and my chip (tied to my left shoe) chirps merrily. I smile the smile of an accomplished man- I have started officially.

I hear the awesome sound of Taiko drummers. Exhilirating is the only feeling that would best describe that.

Its difficult to run in what now looks like an obstacle race. The entire road from side to side is filled with a heterogeneous mix of runners, walkers and spectators (on the side walk). Some overzealous runners are already trying to make headway by running on the side walk. It takes a lot of effort to move from side to side. I see some people trip and end their chance of running further- I redouble efforts to be careful.

2 Miles
First Aid station reached I drink some Ultima replenisher and don’t waste much time as I try to make up for the lost time in the beginning. I try not to run too fast and maintain a steady pace, having read that the first time marathoner who gets over enthusiastic will become door mat after mile 18.

I spot the trio a bit before they spot me. They are watching in awe as the pack leaders sprint ahead. Hmmmm.. I thought they were here to cheer me. I move sideways to pass near them- we high five as I give them a bit of sprinting and promptly slow down after passing them.

The Portland marathon is organized completely by volunteers- including the various entertainers that pepper the entire course. We pass a lady in her 50s playing a harp with gay abandon for us. We cheer and clap as we run by. The thought that I have never got up early in the morning to volunteer for anything or anybody crosses my mind. It crosses rather quickly though.

5 Miles
At the next aid station, I supplement my now regular diet of ultima with some gourmet energy gels. They all taste bad- though I know by mile 18 I will be singing a different tune.

The sun makes a sleepy peek from the horizon. It fails to exorcise the cold air, but the running has warmed me enough. The sky seems to have a multiple personality disorder- It hasn’t decided if it will show its clear or cloudy self. Possibility of rain worries me- sogged socks and shoes nurture devilish blisters. Something I don’t want to add to the list of fiends I will have to fight to finish.

Crowd support is fantastic as we run through downtown. Husbands cheering for their running wives, women rooting for their hubbies, children for their parents, parents for their younglings, grandchildren for their…… you get where I’m heading with this. Just so many different kinds of people are running. I search through the sea of marathoners for fellow Indians…. Don’t spot any. I guess I shall have to be the sole ambassador (I later find a few).

11 Miles
Its around 9am and the sun continues to battle with the clouds. The clouds seem to be giving in as the sky clears a bit and the air warms up a little. I’m sweating liberally now and the salt in it has irritated my eyes, which have turned blood red and my hair is spiking from the moisture. I’m still not really tired as I continue to hydrate myself at every aid station and gulping down generous portions of energy gels every 4 miles.

Spot Harish who has walked ahead of where Meera and Sriks are standing. He says something to cheer me on , I assure him I’m still running with a cheerful disposition. He runs with me a couple of minutes until we reach the other two.

I stop quickly and stretch the IT band on my right knee. I felt a bit of stiffness there and that is something that I didn’t want getting bad now. Feel much better as I rejoin the runners.

Check point Charlie- St. Johns bridge (miles 17-18)
Comfortably ran past 16 miles without exhaustion. Feelings of invulnerability flood me as I continue on and sail past mile 17. Very soon I was at the foot of St. Johns Bridge and a 150Ft climb loomed in front. Left knee was now paining. I had counted on it as my ally- it had never given me problems in the past. I started walking and tried to shrug the pain off but it stuck to my knee like gum onto shoe soles. Stretched it, Ouch that felt worse. Continued walking across St. John ’s Bridge. Tried running at half way point—no show. The pain was bad.

As we descend the bridge I see several people walk backwards. Not a bad idea- I’m going to end up really trashing my legs on this and other long down hills.

Saw the trio at the end of St. John’s Bridge. Tried running towards them—darn, this pain was getting worse. In the span of the last one mile- my marathon story was turning from smooth sailing to heavy turbulence.

Sriks was stretching as he prepared to run the last 8 miles with me. We decided to walk till mile 20 before I try running again.

Mile 20
Running at mile 20 revealed the plot for the next 6 miles. The story will have to be completed by walking. Disappointed a bit- but too tired to care, I resigned myself to walking on.

Mile 22
My mom and dad called- told them the good and the bad. Continued walking- by now walking was getting painful. Actually everything was painful at this stage. Tried some redbull at a sponsor station. The extra caffeine in it proved to be a powerful diuretic- made me want to relieve my bladder. Red Bull- BAD. With Sriks and pain for company, I marched on.

Mile 24
Calls from Ramanathan and Mani, some more encouragement from them. I was pretty sure by now that I can hold the pain until I finished. Madhu called, but I missed it. Calls from my uncle in Portland was also missed. Hmmm, my hearing must have taken a dive too.

At mile 25, Meera joined us for the home stretch. Harish had successfully gotten lost. He called a few times to locate me. But by this time, my head won’t work. So my attempts to give him my location miserably failed.

Around 6 hours of effort now. The entertainers near the finish were packing up for the day. The crowd was thinning but enough people to cheer us on. Got some extra ‘Go Man-o-haar’ from the crowd. I must’ve had a zonked look in my face

Mile 26
Sriks and Meera stepped off the course into the crowd, leaving me to get to the finish line. The finish banner stretched across the road a block away. I picked up speed sprinting effortlessly, my head held level, chest puffed forward as I zipped through. Spectators cheered jubilantly on both sides as the hero sped along. I could see myself in slow motion- my legs and hands pumping. My perspiration slowly flying in the air- as I move forward frame by frame. The finish ribbon snaps as my momentum carries me through…… Reality pin burst my dream bubble. My quick attempt at running the short block ended as fast as it began as I walked across the finish mat.

Some friendly cheerful volunteers cut the chip off my shoes. Another presented me the finishers medal. I tried to smile and failed. They smiled enough to compensate for me. Walked over to the medical aid tent and got some ice for my knee and some orange juice. I promptly poured the orange juice on my knee mistaking it for ice. My fatigue soaked body has turned my mind to mush. I looked around for a porta potty and hobbled to the nearest one.

Post finish
A squeal and somebody running towards me broke my trance. Meera dashed across the road and hugged me. It slowly dawned on me- I had really finished this ordeal.

Didn’t do my ego much good on seeing the number of old participants who had finished hours ahead of me. Above mentioned ego took further beating on hearing that the winner was a first time marathoner.

Evening
I languish in a couch with post marathon soreness for company. There is no comfortable position- everything hurts. I think back to how Harish got up after 3 hours sleep preceded by a hectic Saturday drive to Seattle, a wedding reception and back- had come and supported me through the 6 hour ordeal, Meera was as always being solid and dependable, Sriks flying to Portland to run with me that last 8, Bharati doing her best to be there and cheer me on, Friends and family calling (from time zones where its post midnight), friendly Portland denizens sharing their good spirits. I’m sure I will recover from this marathon but its kindness like this that I suspect I will not easily recover from.

6 Comments:

Blogger Lg said...

Yay! I hope you chill out. Try frozen Gatorade, it is a good healer ;)

10/17/2005 12:19 AM  
Blogger Manohar said...

Thanks Anand.

10/17/2005 4:29 PM  
Blogger Manohar said...

Shashi, thanks and I won't argue with you. :)

10/17/2005 11:07 PM  
Blogger Manohar said...

echo, I also hear gatorade is a great reviver for people who have swooned, perhaps due to an unusually hot sun *rofl*

10/17/2005 11:08 PM  
Blogger sdpal said...

Great writing. Made me think, I need to do this some time. But, ask me after half-hour, I wont be in the same mood.
Wish I was there, to cheer you up

Shankar N

10/27/2005 10:26 AM  
Blogger Meera Manohar said...

Now when I think back to that day-- I am not really sure how U pulled it !?!

Real motivation :)

11/04/2005 10:41 PM  

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