Before I begin, my dysfunctional relation with sports in general must
be highlighted. I never won any medal in sports
as a kid. Not even a consolation medal. I used to be one of the last
fellows picked in road soccer teams. As I grew up,
I carved out a niche for myself---the fellow who could "strategize".
So that way I avoided doing too much *and* (I thought)
no one knew I wasn't doing anything. Cricket, well, I used to claim
"batting technique"---but it was an euphemism I came
up with to bully other kids into giving me batting first.
That said, there is something in endurance sports I always liked. Just
don't stop, that's all. Easy isn't it?
I attempted training for "long distance running" last year in San
Diego. My aim was to run around Mission Bay in San
Diego, about 11 miles---the same path I used to skate a couple of years
back. However, I soon realized I had a problem---my foot
would go numb after a couple of miles. But before I resolved that problem
through diligent poring over the internet as any self
respecting hypochondriac would, I landed up with shin splints. Training over.
When I moved to Bay area, I decided to give running a shot again. I saw a
podiatrist this time. Some orthotics and a couple of hundred
dollars in co-payments later, the numbness started appearing later and later.
For the last month or so, I haven't had even the slightest
discomfort.
Still, my biggest concern on Saturday was whether the hills would make the numbness come back. It was on my mind when I went to pick up my registration packet---more than the fear of a ticket for having parked in a no-parking zone. I met Pooja at the expo looking concerned about something, but I don't remember much else. I left in 20 minutes flat, and drove down to South Bay where I was supposed to meet with some friends and stuff myself in preparation for the race. That I did, all the while hearing how you shouldn't read the last Harry Potter because JK Rowling literally gives away all plot endings without so much as a spoiler alert on the cover of the book! :)
I drove back home and stuffed myself some more at night, struggled with the chip a little, but the bib number on my shirt and slept. Morning, I got up waaay later than most of you (at 4:15) in South Bay, a quick shower and oatmeal later, I was across the bay into the Embarcadero Garage a little after 5. Long queue for the portapotty which took only 5 minutes, and some minor stretching later, I was in the starting area for Wave 4. Vinay and Vineeta were there, and were attempting a 2 hour run. I told them I was aiming for something like that, but wasn't going to push myself (all thanks to the concern about my foot).
So off we go. The best part was that the run was uneventful medically. :) Vinay and Vineeta went ahead of me, though I caught up with Vinay a little later.
Thanks to my biking routines in SFO, the slopes near Fort Mason, Lincoln Blvd, and the bridge were all familiar. I love the unearthly beauty of the fog rolling in over the bay---I sometimes bike up the hills in Berkeley just to watch that. The familiar fog at the Golden Gate bridge allayed all my concerns about my foot, and I picked up pace there. I even made a peace sign for the race photographer on the bridge (though I can't find that photo on the official site now). I saw Pradeep on the bridge trying to take my photo, but we missed on the first attempt. I picked up the energy gel at the vista point (only to throw it away a little later), and on the Marin side ramp on to the Golden Gate, Pradeep took an the photo on top of this page (thanks!) :).
But of course, the last 3 miles. I don't bike on that stretch, so the killer slopes there were a little bit of surprise to me. I cursed like the South Park kids all the way to the entrance of GG Park. And then, to the finish line. I saw the time read 2:28:xx and since the 4th wave was supposed to have started at 5:45 (15 min after the gun), I assumed I finished in 2:13:xx. Of course, the chip said 2:20 and we have to listen to the chip. So 2:20 it is.
The best part of the race? I noticed many people came to cheer someone they know. But in most cases, they stayed back to cheer everyone else as well! Not that the others were doing very well and were going to "win". The cheers were there because the audience just got caught up in the moment: 15k people attempting something bordering on impossible even a couple of decades back. That is the little extra that amateur endurance sports have today, a more innocent, less commercial sportsmanship. That, and the medal which I got for finishing. Ha, finally. :)