Les Petits Contes

About life's little observations, which matter. About hilarious situations, which illuminate. About stories which offer immense possibilities, open endings, different interpretations and perspectives.

Name:
Location: Asia, Singapore

Melancholic but with a quirky sense of humour

Monday, August 28, 2006

Half Marathon!


I was actually nervous the day before the half marathon! The more hype I read in the press, the more nervous I got.

I had signed up for it without too much apprehension or protestation. And even managed to find time to train for the distance, and for the stamina.

It all began with Jo sent me an sms asking me to sign up for this year’s run. I did not read her message carefully and assumed it was going to be the same distance as we did last year – 10 km. After my ready reply, ‘’OK’’, I realised she had meant the 21km half marathon.

It was too late to back out, though I did try. ‘’No, you are doing 21km this year – it’s your new goal,’’ came her swift reply.

And so, after a few weeks of ‘’training’’ in addition to my regular runs, and abstaining from high heel shoes (yes – they do make a difference and Jo will be gloating and gleaming to read this, after years of her nagging), the night before, I prepared for the run.

Never have I been so ‘’kind’’ to my legs and feet – massaging, moisturising and stretching them extensively. I carefully read the organiser’s notes, including how to tie the chip to your shoe so that it would register the time I take to complete the run.

Does this plastic-looking chip really work? When it sits on my shoe will it be too far from the ground for the ‘’contactless’’ technology to work? I work in a smart card company that deals with both contact and contactless technology – surely this round black contraption is not from my company?

I actually went to bed at 10.30 pm – the earliest I could remember - for I had to wake up at 3.34 pm and be at Jo’s studio at 4.45 am. The run starts at 5.30 am.

During training with Jo she would be chatting away (and I would be trying hard to reply without appearing breathless). Yesterday morning she was quiet, and focussed. The other runners seemed very serious too. I had the urge to take a record of myself in this ‘’record’’ event of mine. But no one had a camera with him or her. I realised it was after all a competitive run and only ‘’serious’’ people would wake up at this hour on a Sunday to do a 21km run. The atmosphere seemed so sombre and different from the fun 10km runs I had taken part in previous years. What was I in for, Janet Loh?!

Soon the race started and Jo continued to be silent. I managed to run next to her, but I had to make sure I didn’t slack for one second. At times I got ‘’over-taken’’ by others or somehow got blocked by big burly guys but usually I managed to catch up.

Barely 2km on and there was a little impasse at a narrow junction. ‘’What is this,’’ grumbled Jo. ‘’Super,’’ remarked a French guy behind me.

By the 10th km I was grateful for any pause – either from narrow sections that caused bottlenecks or from traffic lights – for it would mean that it was easier for me to catch up. But then again after a few steps and it would be like chasing an elusive and super swift dream again.

But I told myself it is good to have a ‘’target’’ ahead of me, to prevent me from slowing down. Jo was consistent in her speed and never pausing (except those ‘’forced ones’’) and it was one way to discipline me not to slow down or stop.

By the 15th km, and after one and a half hour of pounding the roads, I completely lost her. It must have been during the tough Chinatown segment. Not only have I lost total sight of her, I had lost ‘’fuel’’.

I slowed down to a super crawl. I was determined not to stop to walk. But temptation got in the way – hey, there were many guys looking worse than me, walking, falling and completely stopping – ‘’maybe I could catch up later after pausing a while’’ I thought to myself.

It was both a mistake and a blessing. Mistake because it meant slowing down my timing (you don’t need a mathematician to tell you this) and blessing because after a short ‘’walk’’ my legs actually felt stronger when I began running again. I could even start to admire the scenery around me and read a few posters put up in French along the old shop-houses, one of them saying something like, ‘’mes salutes au …21 km marathon!’’

People tell me ‘’it’s all in the mind’’. I reminded myself that too. So when the 17 km mark greeted me, I went, ‘’oh c’mon, what is 5 km to you – you have done much longer distance!’’

Obviously my mind was not strong, very mistaken and playing tricks, or my legs were just not cooperating. Each kilometre took an eternity to complete, and felt like 10 km. But thank God, the poisonous thought ‘’why did I get myself into this’’ entered only once, and exited pretty quickly, as I replaced my thoughts with the mantra, ‘’c’mon, c’mon, nearly there, nearly there’’.

So I paused, did some stretches, and when I resumed, a cramp crept up on my right thigh. I hobbled a bit, recovered, only to have the cramp attack the left calf. Shucks, I looked at my watch – I had hoped to complete the run in just over 2 hours (at 15 km I had still been hopeful), but now it looked liked it would take a miracle to do so. And the increasingly numerous pauses at traffic lights meant that I had lost even more time!

When I saw the sign that said, ‘’500m to finishing line’’, a renewed strength suddenly overcame me. I felt great and berated myself, ‘’if only I had persevered more and not paused.’’

As I neared the finishing point I heard the MC shouting, ‘’if you make it in 2 hours and 45 minutes you will get the medal, you still have time, you can make it….’’

The timer looked like I wasn’t going to make it, yet other runners in front of me took their own time to waddle towards the end… don’t they care about the time or the medal? But I did. So I ‘’cheong-ed’’ towards the finishing line, with the surreal feeling that I could go on for yet another few km.

And yes – I did get my medal – at 2 hour 42 minutes… gulp, blush.