Running for a cause (Minutes of Marathon)

I couldn’t say no when on one of the Fridays Amitanshu asked me whether I am ready to run for a cause, nobody ever expects something like that from him. We two then convinced the other bachelor, Lattu.

A word about Lattu, his top three concerns are:

1. Girls
2. Chicks in jeans
3. points 1 + 2 & 3

We approached Lattu with the sure shot modus operandi:

In Amit’s words: “Man heard that there are lot of chicks running. Would you by any chance like to join us”?

We were almost sure of the answer but the toughest part was getting him to participate in the 21 Km, half marathon. He was more than ready for the 7 km, Celebration run.

This time Amit: “You know, in 21 Km race there will be thrice as much gals as in the Celebration run.”

Thanks, to the fact that Lattu was quite good at Math and his bachelor degree in mechanical engineering didn’t leave him much time to learn how the world works. This time he couldn’t resist.

Amit is my pal and the first person to suggest that prejudice could be reason for my disdain for fiction books. That evening we talked with our aerobic instructor Milan, on the kind of shoes we need to wear and the stuff. Prejudiced with the low physical competence of software engineers he tried his best to dissuade us from the half marathon and go for the celebration run. He expressed his deep concern and desire to see us all alive on the next Monday.
A bit disappointed and a bit scared we thought of going for the celebration run. To the surprise of me and Amit Lattu stood firm on half marathon, may be the thrice as much part was difficult for him to get over!!!

We finally registered for the 21.1 Km event!!!

On that fateful Sunday morning at about 6:23 A.M, Lattu’s Radar enhanced telescopic view spotted the chick draped in pink T-shirt and blue track pants with a pony tail much ahead of us in the crowd.
6:30 A.M: the starter fired the gun; the crowd broke into running like mad dogs for the respective causes they ticked in the registration form, except Lattu. He started for the cause of catching up with a mad running pink T-shirt. Soon we realized that Lattu’s object of attraction wasn’t that bad after all. Some how, all of us felt the necessity to keep her on focus to derive enough inspiration for the event.

Unfortunately, I had to withdraw from this exercise when I became aware of the TV cameras prying on us. The unusual thought of solutions to equations of those electromagnetic waves resolving into television images at my home and the existence of a remote possibility of my mom turning the right channel at the wrong time dint leave me with enough inspiration to purse it anymore. I tried in vain to distract Lattu by telling him that we are being overtaken like our official transport at Hosur Road.

I moved ahead of the group. After some time there was a trio clad in blue, white and a green approaching me. I decided that till that far traffic signal, I wont allow any body to over take, I picked up and ran with all the energy to get over them, they were an easy lot to take over they dint try hard either. After the initial pick up I slowed down again. Then after some 5 mins there was again this same group right behind!!!, luckily we were running down an incline of a flyover, and I knew that stretching the legs as far as possible is the key, the rest will be taken care of by mother gravity. At 66.7 Kgs I stood a better chance with gravity down the incline.

Soon it turned out into a monotonous run with nothing much happening, except for the cheering from the stalls serving water for the participants, which stood at every kilometer or so. I reached half the marathon some where around 55 mins from start. Then circles and swirls through the never ending Hebbal fly over and finally returning back by the other side of the road. But this time there was a difference, it was almost 7:30 am and lot of people crowded around the foot paths.

I missed the energy drink as the guy before me collided with the one serving the drink. Then again boring run…… I was woken up from the half alive state by an old women shouting :

“Do it man”

“Do it! “

I smiled at her and tried to pull hard.

10 to 15 mins of lone running, those ahead of me were very far ahead and those behind me were not to be seen.

Then I saw a little girl who raised her hand out to strike with mine. I realized that I dint have much energy to lift my hands, they felt very heavy but the enthusiasm in her eyes; I couldn’t turn it down. I raised my hands weakly and tapped with her's softly and smiled. She smiled back, I was touched. I don’t know how I suddenly felt like an energy bundle. I ran like wild a bull!!!, forgetting all the pain right from toes to all over the body. After about half a kilometer or so of vigorous running, the pain in my hands and neck returned, I slowed down. Some one from the crowd shouted “only 5 more kilometers”. Gosh I couldn’t think of 5 more damn kilometers, I was expecting the finishing line some where around the next turn. Again I asked a police man on the way how much was left? He told me some 7 kms were left. Damit, was I running back wards?

Later I realized that each of them used a different algorithm to arrive at the random number that they shouted. I asked a few more guys, some one took it even upto 11 kms, I thought I couldn’t take it anymore and stopped asking.

I don’t remember exactly which turn got me into the Kanteerava stadium back, by that time I had almost lost faith in turns and assumptions. At the entrance there was a huge crowd cheering. Again I got my jet pack back, bundle of energy, for the last few 100 meters and stopped at the finishing line when the huge titan clock ticked 2hours 6 mins 37 seconds. The impact of a sudden stop after about 2 hours of continuous running, came as though iron ropes were run into my legs, I tripped and fell down to the ground, and took the opportunity to relax on the track. Some kind soul helped me out of the track to the lawn and got me a bottle of water, Thanks to him, I could have been run over by a bull dozer if lied long enough on the track.

-Blogger Boy