Its interesting(atleast the geek in me thinks so) that I ran my first marathon, this past February, aged 26 years and 72 days or 26.2 yrs. That was a remarkable coincidence given that it matched the distance in miles that I would have to cover to finish the race.
I had decided on running the Austin Marathon more out of a desire to get the first marathon out of the way than being competitive. I had tried the latter last year and failed to even show up at the starting line at San Diego because of a broken tibia. So this time I took the conservative route. Don't train too hard, just make sure you give yourself a chance to run the race without any injury. This strategy isn't all that hard to follow especially with my frequent vacations that happen over the winter months, including my two week India trip(during which I ran all of 20 easy miles) which ended two weeks before the race. In any case, I was glad I happened to make it to mid February completely injury free. Seemed like the hard part was over.
The race began in great conditions, overcast and cool. I decided I'd aim for a finish time around 3:40-3:45 (hrs:mins) which is around 7mph. Seemed like a reasonable goal given that its just slower than what I run all my easy runs on most weekends. I thought I'd start with the 3:30 pace group, just to make sure I start well and have breathing room toward the end. Things were going better than I expected during the first half. So much so that I was running ahead of the 3:30 group till about mile 12. I passed the half-way point in 1:45 feeling great. I ran through mile 16 still on pace.
And then I fell off a cliff. At the start of mile 17 I suddenly couldn't lift my left leg. I'd never felt like this before in a run. My lungs were feeling fine but my legs weren't cooperating. I could barely walk. It was so sudden and so dramatic that it was hard to react to. There was no prior warning. I should have predicted this given that I had never run more than 18 miles at a stretch before. The pain was steady and piercing and it was around my left thigh and hamstring. The whole leg felt like a huge log. I figured it was a cramp or something and thought it would go away in a bit. I stopped and tried shaking it off with a couple of stretches which only seemed to aggravate the pain.
Up until now, I had paused only at two water stations and that too for a couple of sips of water. Suddenly I was in search of the next aid station ready to down a whole bottle of fluids. I walked the entire mile until I got to the next water station. Gatorade had never tasted so good before! I decided to walk the next .2 miles and then try running again. I was barely managing to lift my legs off the ground now and I had been reduced to a slow jog. People were now passing me by the dozens but that didn't worry me too much. Survival was my only concern. I made it to the next aid station at the end of the mile to claim my prize, two full glasses of Gatorade. I would repeat this 0.2 mile walk/0.8 mile slow jog for the next 6 miles.
The miles now seemed increasingly longer. This was exaggerated by the fact that I wasn't wearing a watch. So I had no way of telling how slowly I was covering these miles with a walk/jog or how long it would take me to finish. The occasional cheer of encouragement from the spectators wasn't doing me much good. The pain was barely manageable during the walk and more than masochistic during the jog. On mile 20, I was contemplating quitting but I was somewhere in a residential neighborhood in a city that was completely unknown to me with no money. I had no means of communicating to my friend and sole contact in the city, who was waiting at the finishing line, to "rescue" me. The only way to meet him again was to get to the finishing line. That was enough motivation for me to finish this thing.
Around mile 23, I had now been on the road for over 3 1/2 hrs, I felt hungry. This was really unexpected. I had a couple of GU gels and a few slices of oranges that were being handed out by some thoughtful local residents. This seemed like a good time for a lunch break with all the free fruits on offer. But I had a bum tooth at the time and I had already had my fair share of pain. So I sauntered along.
By the time I finished, more than 4 hours after I started, I didn't feel anything. Even the pain I was experiencing during the race was gone now. The muscles were just sore. Usually most people who cross the finishing line at the end of their first marathon go through a gamut of emotions - relief, elation, pride, maybe even disappointment.I had nothing. Emotional numbness is a surefire sign of a Pyrrhic victory.
On paper it sounds impressive. I had run 26.2 miles at a stretch. But I hadn't really, atleast not the second half of it. This is a footrace, so its best to run it that way. Atleast I know I can only improve from here on!
