It’s barely 5am in the morning, but adrenaline is pumping through every vein and vessel in my body. All hyped up for the next 42.195km that laid ahead, I walked with enthusiasm towards the starting line, breaming with confidence that I was going to finish this in race in 5 hours 30 min. “It shouldn’t be that difficult, right? I’ve been running those 12-15 clicks so regularly anyway.” So with a beaming smile for the cameras, I took my first few steps off the giant electronic start line. Don’t all races start like this? Charged up with enthusiasm and excitement, we feel we can conquer the world.
I read of the mistakes that marathoners make and was well aware of them, especially after a terrible 21km race I did in July, where both of my legs totally cramped up because I ran too fast in the beginning. I knew the road ahead was long, so I didn’t get ahead of myself, preferring to run at a slower pace. The first 4-5km was a jog in the park, nothing more than my usual runs in the CBD. I knew from experience, I could easily do this by my own strength. The thirst began to set in after 8km though, as the body feels the initial loss of water through the constant perspiration. Bronson and Eujean, my running buddies for the day, were awesome company, exchanging mourns and laughter. Our spirits were still high, as we talked about what food we want to eat and what we wanted to do after the run.
As we made the turn into East Coast Park, however, the magnitude of the “largeness” of the race suddenly dawned upon us, as we watched runners ten meters to our right on the other lane ran past us, in the OPPOSITE direction. They were already 10km ahead of us, and looked like they were sprinting. And here we were, doing our little jog-pace and already feeling the breaths getting deeper and legs feeling heavier. When you see someone outpacing you by such a distance, you begin to feel inferior. But more than that, you feel the task ahead seems a little too big for us to handle – like we are not cut out for this. We definitely were not going to win this race, that’s for sure.
By the 15km mark, the stops for water and the cool nice isotonic drinks became a huge reward. The thighs begin to feel the over-exertion and desire to contract, making it necessary to stop and stretch to prevent them from cramping. All along the route were supporters who held up signs to encourage, their voices shrieking with excitement and cheers. At first we were excited and encouraged. Then it turn to nonchalance as we focused on the tiredness. As the race wore on, we were thinking “Easy for you to say… why don’t YOU come run?” Skepticism sets in readily when your body is weary – your mind gets caught off-guard much more easily.
The turning point for the race, both literally, physically and mentally was at the half-way mark: 21km. This was the firstly, the furthest distance I have ever ran previously. Psychologically, this was a huge barrier. I have never done this before, how could I do it? Yet, I was literally re-writing my personal best from here on with every step that I took. The cramps became more frequent, and the pace slowed down significantly, as the legs refused to cooperate anymore. Every conversation has stopped, and all I focused on was the pain that shot through every muscle in my calves and thighs with each stride. Communication ceases when all you feel is pain. You seize up, both physically and in speech, when all you can think about is yourself.
Well into 25km, and the knee joints are starting to give way. Every step I took, the joints pound against each other, sending a jolt of shock, pain and despair up the nerves and into the brain. It’s a signal to tell the brain to stop, and to give up on the race. “Your body can’t take it anymore.” So says the legs. Every step is mind over body from here. Your spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. I just looked forward to the next drinks station, in between the constant jogging and walking. The road seemed endless. The race seemed impossible to finish. How am I going to do this? My mind was running a whole array of possibilities – fall out, take a bus from somewhere, hail a cab, rather get injured and have the ambulance send me to the finish line… The mind gets creative when you pushed to the end. And we think of many more excuses to escape from the situation.
But we pushed on.
But we pushed on.
At the 29km mark, we gobbled down the bananas given to us. It was supposed to be an energy boost. However, for me, it was also where Bronson and I decided we needed to walk more to recover – a strategy which turned out to work against us. Walking cools down the legs significantly, and the body thinks it has entered into a period of rest – only to be disappointed and shocked when I started to run again. The contracted muscles protested every step I took, and cramped up. It was difficult, extremely, to run more than 5 minutes without cramping now. The muscle rub provided by volunteers along the way gave temporary pain relief, but did little to solve the root of the problem. Sometimes rest is necessary, but over-resting breaks the momentum, and we never really recover the momentum after that. The body has won the psychological battle, and the race gets painfully dragged out from here.
The last 13km was just a mighty long endless walk. Besides my stint in the Bruneian jungles 10 years ago, nothing has come close to being so physically painful – the endurance required, the tolerance of pain. Thankfully, the companion of a partner made it less painful and lonesome. It made me give up the idea of giving up, as we decided that we are going to finish the race, even if we have to walk every centimeter of the rest of it. Finishing the race is all we can think of now. Sometimes even when we can run no longer, we do the best we can, knowing that though we may not finish first, nor at our initial expected time, the race is still worth finishing. And finishing is an achievement on its on.
Entering into the final kilometer, the thought that this one painful race ending was thrilling. And the sweet personal victory of mind over body called out to us. We gathered pace and shuffled our feet the best we knew how. We could hear the cloud of supporters at the finishing line, cheering the racers, and celebrating their finishes. We mustered every ounce of energy left, and set our eyes on the finishing line. Every step we took was one step closer to the finishing line. With cheers all around and hands in the air, we ran through the one line that we have been looking forward to the last 42km. Yes, it is finished!
Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up. And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us. We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus, the champion who initiates and perfects our faith. Because of the joy awaiting him, he endured the cross, disregarding its shame. Now he is seated in the place of honor beside God’s throne.
Hebrews 12:1-2
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| Awesome Running Buddies |
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