BEL18VE

Saturday, December 1, 2018

Game, Set and Match

It's 3:30 pm on November 4^th, 2018. The next 96^th street bound Q train is arriving in 10 minutes, announces the voice at Times Square. Are you okay? Do you need anything? asks the woman next to me. I hear them both, yet I don't. My mind drifts through time, reminiscing moments that defined the season, people that scripted an epic.

Nov 24^th, 2016 - It's Thanksgiving, and a runner in the GCR group wears a cap that says IRONMAN. I've read about it. Next-door neighbor from college days, Sanket's facebook profile says he's one. I ask what it takes. He says - You're young. If you can run a marathon, you can do it. I think of the time I trailed all 7 lanes by half the length in a swim meet at IIT Bombay, sending the crowds into jeers. It's not for me. I can't. Deep down, I wish to have the last laugh.

Jan 29^th, 2017 - It's been 3 hours. We are in a decider. For the first time, we trail, down a break against one of the finest players of the fifth. It's deuce. In this match-up with the devil, the backhand used to be a nemesis. No longer, as we see a shot driven cross-court. Advantage, and soon, we're level. 3-all. I'm in tears. He isn't giving up. He isn't afraid. When my turn comes, neither will I. We hold. It's 4-3. Eyes moist, heart throbbing, a 26-shot rally ensues, one that will stay ingrained in my mind forever. 3 points later, another peach of a backhand return and we lead by a break. Roger Federer wins the Australian Open. The 18^th is here. 2017, I love you already.

#BEL18VE

Feb to Apr - Life sends me on a roller-coaster. It takes a village to keep me going, and I somehow get through, even come out stronger. Never again will things matter more than people. More here - We Live On

May to Dec - Pittsburgh, San Francisco, Chicago - the marathons come and go. I run through diarrhoea, through unrelenting heat. I go longer, trying a 60k, and then the Dopey Challenge to kick off 2018. Roger reclaims his throne at Wimbledon. There is a gut feeling - maybe, more is possible.

The trio takes San Francisco

Jan 11^th, 2018 - For a while now, I've been eyeing Team Challenge, the endurance arm of the Crohn's and Colitis Foundation, and their entries to IRONMAN events. I pick up the phone, and call Kat, their National Manager. I have always been afraid of putting my head under water, and uneasy spending money - two vices that an IRONMAN will necessarily have to fix. I know nothing about two of the three sports, but what I do know as a marathoner is that with the right set of people around, the impossible can happen. Ted, an NYC-based friend of Kat's, informs of this place called Asphalt Green. I've run by it, never known what's inside. He insists I join their Triathlon Club (AGTC).

Jan 13^th - In a shallow little pool, I practise what I call swimming. 650 yards, and there's no energy left. Average pace - 6:10 per 100 yards. IRONMAN would need me to go 6 times the distance at double the pace in a bottomless river.

Jan 17^th - Kat says they only have 2 slots left for Chattanooga. I sign up. We'll see what happens.

Jan 28^th - Roger Federer wins the Australian Open, turns 20. For a staunch atheist like me, this is as good a sign from the heavens as it gets, that going for the full-distance triathlon is the right thing to do. There's no turning back.

Jan 30^th - Sohil, a fellow madman and one of my favorite Indian athletes, suggests I join him at the Mont Tremblant 70.3 - the timing is great. 14 weeks before Chattanooga, and I'll get to see what a triathlon looks like. Let's do this.

Feb 3^rd - We're in the 50m pool at Asphalt Green. I cling to the side every minute. I get told I swim like a runner. I struggle, yet stick around for the entire 2-hour session. A woman named Jill takes pity, asks me to stay after, shows me how it's done, teaches me a couple of things to try later.

Feb 6^th - I've spent the weekend doing as she asked. Back to the big pool. It isn't working. I persist. Those 26 shots loop in my head. A miracle happens. For the first time ever, my head goes under water. Hallelujah! 3:40 per 100 yards. There is hope.

Feb 24^th - I meet Jill again. She confesses she'd asked the lifeguard to look out for me 3 weeks ago.

Feb 25^th - The Director of Aquatics says his swim program isn't meant for me. I make a mental note - not my coach.

Mar 2^nd - I've been going back and forth for a month now with a few shops and with seasoned cyclist Nandini. First road bike. First geared bike. With time, many will ask - why not a tri-bike, why not aero-bars, why not performance wheels. The answer will stay constant - when push comes to shove, no one else will have a bike that responds to come on, Roger!

With Roger in Chattanooga

Mar 10^th - Shut out of the swim session. Management says they can't let triathlon club folks swim all mornings. But you promised me this when I joined with a year-long contract. The doubts come. Is this the right place? Are these the right people? Should I have listened to Sohil and joined TriLife?

Mar 18^th - I throw up, then throw my legs around for 13.1 miles at the NYC Half, breaking 2 hours with a 17-minute PR.

You got this!! Come on, Vipul. You can do it!!

- Deb, screaming top of her lungs, at mile 7 - just the push my aching body needs

Mar 21^st - I meet Coach Ken. 5 months down the line, this moment will still be etched in our memories.

Mar 26^th to Apr 1^st - Ashwin, Nishanth and I hike the week - Zion, Bryce Canyon, Grand Canyon. This is new ground. We push through, sometimes wade. I'm with the two people who for years now, have defined one for all and all for one to me. It's a happy place, refreshing, inspiring.

At Bryce Canyon National Park

After conquering the tricky Angel's Landing at Zion

Apr 5^th - I take my bike to an indoor ride on the trainer at Asphalt Green. I pedal hard to get there quick. The chain slips off. No idea what to do. I arrive late. Coach Ben lets me in, despite having every right to send me home. He gets his hands dirty, stays back after, shows me what the chain rings do. I ask about himself, and look in awe - a 20-time IRONMAN fixed my chain!!!

Apr 7^th - Coach Tim leads me on my first BRick. We ride indoors for 2 hours, and then run for 30 minutes. This is tough. I can't help but notice that everyone has calves as thick as my thighs. Part of me is intimidated.

Apr 11^th - As part of Team in Training at the upcoming Tremblant 70.3, I swim under the watchful eye of Coach Scott, once a week. Mid workout, he asks us to stay still in the water and shrug our shoulders. This is the best swimming form he's seen all hour, he remarks. I love this guy. Over the next 2 months, he'll throw shade, push and pull, teach me enough to increase my pace by 25%.

Apr 17^th - First outdoor bike with Ken, and I get stuck in the smaller chainring. Unable to keep pace, I lag behind. Roger and I are yet to strike the right chord.

Apr 21^st - Tired of looping the Park, I go out to the Hudson River Greenway this Saturday morning. Enroute, I encounter a red light at 72nd and Broadway. Judging from the crosswalk, it's about to go green, so I slow down. Every cyclist knows what's coming next. It's a delayed green, and I have lost all pace without clipping out. There's a line of cabs behind me. I fall with the bike, more embarrassed than hurt.

Apr 27^th - I meet Coach Stan, and his workouts seem to get sparse crowds, which means more time for me to talk to him, and talk we do, not just this day, but over hundreds of miles in the coming months. I find him very easy to relate to - the guy who made the swim cutoff by just 5 seconds in his half IRONMAN, something that's very much possible in my own future.

May 1^st - Up until now, I have been carrying Gatorade bottles on the bike - ones that need me to stop and use both hands to open. Ken hands me a bike bottle this workout, says it's on the club. Words go unsaid, but I understand the significance of this gesture - One Of Us. I've been putting in the effort, but it's been akin to running in an endless dark tunnel, with no one to guide me through. A light flickers on. So beautiful and inspiring is this moment that over the 172 miles of biking in my two triathlons, this bottle always stays on - a constant reminder that this is my playground too. I make a mental note - my coach, my team, my people. All I need here on is to pour my heart into training.

Raah seedhi hai agar dil raazi hai
(the journey is straightforward if your heart is willing)

- title song from Raazi, my favorite movie of 2018

May 6^th - I go to the TD Five Boro Bike Tour and finish with the lead pack. Roger and I begin to click. Deb, my best friend in the city, books her trip to Chattanooga. She believes I'll finish. It will be another 3 months before I share the same faith.

With Deb in Chattanooga

May 13^th - Nandini introduces me to the world beyond Manhattan. We cross the George Washington Bridge, take a trip to the Market. At 41 miles, it's my longest ride to date, and I have enough left in the tank to run 15k after.

May 15^th - Ken works us on lap after lap of Harlem Hill in a high gear. This is killing me and I don't want to keep my cadence up, but as if magically, he keeps appearing behind me, shouting

Burn, Burn, Burn

- Ken Szekretar

May 23^rd - I adorn (and adore) a wetsuit, and boy does it feel good. I'm finally able to break 2:00 for 100 meters, although at the cost of losing my breath.

May 26^th - Stan, Teresa (badass, mother of 3, she's at a half IRONMAN on the Sun while I write this) and I venture beyond the Market. It's my first half century, and being in unknown territory, I almost wipe Stan out. There's a right turn after a descent to go to Piermont, and I don't see the signal, going straight down the inside line while he's gone wide to turn. Close shave, and unfortunately, not my last mishap on the bike.

May 30^th - My official 5k PR currently stands at 27 minutes. At the JP Morgan Corporate Challenge, I run 3.5 miles in 26. Triathlon training is working wonders.

May 31^st - During a morning swim at Asphalt Green, I get banished from the slow lane. Getting a boot has never felt so good.

Jun 9^th - Scott takes us to the ocean at Coney Island. We go a mile, and I get to experience swimming while being slapped and kicked (thanks Anish).

Jun 12^th - Over an evening run, Tim asks me to visualize the triathlon before attempting it. In 12 days time, this will lead to a 2:35 transition from bike-to-run on debut. He gives me another succinct piece of advice, something that I think applies to life in general.

When you're on that course, only one direction exists - forward.

- Timothy Clarke

Jun 24^th - We go to Mont Tremblant, and I fall in love with triathlon. This is serene, amazing - the support, the scenery, the camaraderie. I have trouble on the swim, keep turning left and going off course, but eventually finish with enough time to spare. There on, I have a blast. 24 minutes faster than I want on the bike, and 2 minutes faster than I have ever run 13.1 miles before. Just the kind of confidence booster I need before attempting a full.

(L-R) Me, Sohil, Anish, Naman with Lake Tremblant in the background

Jul 22^nd - IRONMAN Lake Placid comes around, and it's a big deal for New Yorkers. I'm majorly interested in tracking one man - Ken. He finishes in 10:31 on debut in sub-optimal weather, and posts later in a heart-touching tribute to his family that it's been a journey of blood, sweat and tears. I laugh to myself that I'm yet to see blood. Jinx.

Jul 28^th - By now, I have dialed into a training routine, waking early for workouts, going longer every weekend. A monotony of sorts has settled in, and more often than not, I ask myself - Why am I doing this? Motivation keeps fluctuating, none more so than in an hour's span this day. At the 74^th mile in an 85-ride, cruising downhill on River Road, I hit a twig, go flying, land on my chin. First thing I do - stop my Garmin (thanks for the applause, fellow athletes). I'm scarred, bleeding. The chain's come off, the handlebars are bent, the seat's misaligned. I hate triathlons, I hate biking. My wrists hurt so bad, I can do nothing to fix the bike, and I begin to walk, sobbing. An older gentleman stops, installs the chain, and one handlebar - enough to get the rear brake working, the other one's gone for good. I ride home, wounded, but also fired up - I must come back stronger and finish, else his generosity is in vain.

Jul 29^th - Ashwin runs a dream. He goes 73 minutes faster than last year at the devilish San Francisco Marathon, and he keeps getting faster as the day progresses. Many see endurance sport as grit and a show of strength. This is art, an amazing display of discipline and tactics, the finest amateur marathon I have seen. In executing his plan to perfection, he inspires me to do the same myself.

#dreamrun

Aug 4^th - Swimming in the 25-yards pool, I hear someone call out my name. It's Ken! He's there with his kids, but has come over for a minute to indicate that my left arm keeps going across. I've never told him about my tendency to swim left, yet he's discovered the root cause. I must be terrible, or he terrific, or more likely, both. Ever since, I keep my left arm in check, and gladly, I swim straight these days.

Aug 5^th - Centurion. We go up and down Bear Mountain. It takes 8 hours, and I'll need to speed up for the IRONMAN. Stan says people don't start riding centuries within 4 months of picking up a bike. People don't get such good coaching either. It wraps up a 20-hour training week, first of 4.

Atop Bear Mountain

Aug 8^th - A yesteryear friend writes to me -

Hey! I really wanna say something I've been feeling for quite some time. I really admire you for all that you do and have done. The insane will and resolve I know you must have to do all these amazing things that I cannot imagine myself doing. And that really inspires me. On some days where I feel the lack of motivation in doing what are definitely menial things compared to your goals, I remind myself of everything that you put in and manage to garner some motivation. So thanks. Keep doing amazing. You're inspirational.

The WHY gets answered. It's also Roger's 37^th birthday, and I swim 3700 yards to celebrate. At just 500 short of the IRONMAN distance, this is my longest ever, with 7 weeks to go.

Aug 12^th - Big day. I start with 1.5 miles in the 50m pool, then hop on the bike, and all goes well for 73 miles, whereupon I hit a flat tire. 38 miles from home, out there by myself, with no known bike shop in close proximity. I fix it, learning later that I only did enough to return, not fully solving the problem. Following it up with a 3.5 mile run, this is the first time I begin to believe that I can finish a full triathlon.

Aug 23^rd - While at a conference in London, I visit Wimbledon. There isn't a better place to fuel up on inspiration.

At Center Court - the Mecca of sport, and the true theater of dreams

Roger's jersey from Wimbledon 2018

Aug 26^th - Having not swam open water in 2 months, I go to a CIBBOWS practice, and they let me tag along for 3800 yards in the Atlantic. A 100-mile ride after (with another flat, this time on mile 99), and the impossible is in sight.

They take selfies mid-swim

Aug 30^th - A good friend of mine, a smart and innocent fresh graduate, tells me he's battling Crohn's. I feel fortunate that I know warriors as well as supporters, thanks to the connections I've forged through the IRONMAN at the Crohn's and Colitis Foundation, and am able to put him in touch with them. The WHY gets answered again - because I can, and because I'm sure that if the roles were reversed, others would do it for me too.

Aug 31^st - Exiting the John Jay Pool, a random old lady shouts - you need more weight, young man. Half a gallon of whole milk gets added to a daily diet that's already touching 3500 calories.

Sep 2^nd - I go back to CIBBOWS, hoping to get the full 2.4 miles once before raceday. We're only nice once. Fair enough. I go solo, and finish in 90 minutes. From not knowing how to swim in February, this is a major milestone to hit. I sink into the sand at Coney Island, taking a minute to reel it in.

Sep 5^th - It's Teacher's Day in India, and I'm on a bike workout with Stan. As if to add to the coincidence, we run into Ken after finishing. He regales that day in March when we first met, saying how he thought to himself I had no idea how much pain I was in for, having just seen me snaking like an eel in the pool. He recounts the tale of the koi fish that swam upstream and became a dragon, calling me analogous. I feel so proud, I come home and tell everyone who would hear. One of these texts goes to Deb - my favorite coach told me today ...... Luckily, I have the presence of mind to quickly clarify that I meant favorite triathlon coach. Disaster averted. We're still going to Chattanooga on friendly terms.

Become the dragon.

- Ken Szekretar

With Ken and Stan - in an alternate parallel universe, these guys must be Luthi and Ljubicic

Sep 8^th - Another century ride, my 5th in 5 weeks, and this takes me 7 hours, good speed to make the bike cutoff. The work is done, and it's time to taper. Ashwin, Nishanth and I plan our schedules so that I get to see them both this month - adding to my joyful state of mind.

With Ashwin during a ride to the Upper Crystal Springs Reservoir

With Nishanth over Labor Day Weekend in NYC

Sep 12^th - A colleague on my team donates to my fundraiser. Though I have always had their support on my athletic endeavors, this is a first, and it serves as a concrete affirmation, an uplift.

Sep 27^th - I arrive in Chattanooga, fit and fresh, eager to go 144.6 miles. I'll only get to go 142.2 though. The swim is canceled. I'm disappointed. It takes a while to gather perspective and to remember how far I have come, and to not let go now. One of the things that helps is this beautiful message from the race director - It is what it is, so remember 3 things - (a) Wherever you're from, you have the support and the freedom to train for such an event, things that can't be taken for granted in many parts of the world; (b) Your body lets you do this; and (c) You have the guts to take on such a challenge. So, honor these, and give it all you got.

Sep 29^th - I meet Skip, the sadist coach who built my training plan. His wife, Linda, narrates his story, and it's awe-inspiring - 33 years with Crohn's, and this is going to be his 11^th IRONMAN. I feel ready for the struggle that awaits - my life is easy.

With Skip

Sep 30^th - D-day!!!! The bike portion now has a time-trial start and thanks to my affiliation with Team Challenge, I have a very low bib number, and am among the first dozen amateurs to start. I capitalize, using the lower temperatures and free roads to set a blistering pace.

On Chattanooga's scenic bike course

I've told sherpa Deb I'll be at the first rendezvous point by 11:40 am, I'm there 11:10 (she still makes it!). In the second half, the sun comes out, my left triceps begin to hurt, and with no aero-bars, I have no choice but to keep a grip. I have also goofed up on my course info, not knowing that the bike portion offers orange-flavored Gatorade, not the lemon-lime I have trained with. This new flavor doesn't go down, leaving me to finish 116 miles on water, gels, and the 2 bike bottles that I started with. I get overtaken a lot, and so many of them tell me I'm doing great, asking me to keep going strong. Somehow, they've realized I'm a newbie, and they won't let me go down. The shared bond, the support, the amount of respect for each other and for the journey - it's beautiful, unforeseen. I average 18.3 mph for a little over 6 hours.

The run is a disaster - 1200 feet of elevation gain, with temperatures soaring to 88F, but I've trained for this. In his book The Boys in the Boat, Daniel James Brown titles the last chapter Touching the Divine. In the finish chute, I know what he means. I cover the 142.2 miles in 12:01:52, so grateful, and so numb emotionally that I don't cry, don't feel, don't touch my phone for 3 hours after because I don't know what to say.

Favorite photo from the day

Touching the Divine

Oct 17^th - My bib at the NYC Marathon will be 31013 - a palindrome that sums to 8 - Federer's lucky number, and as March-13^th born Deb points out, also related to her. The signs bode well.

Oct 18^th - It's been a while since the last AGTC bike workout, so Ken comes out to coach the evening run. We run half-mile sprints. I clock 3:36, 3:27, 3:22, 3:22. Everyone else is running 4 of them, he sends me on a 5^th. He believes I can hold pace, will myself to push once more. 3:22 again. The signs get stronger. I'm planning to run 20 miles that Saturday, 2 weeks before the NYC marathon. He says - no more than 14.

Oct 20^th - I run 14.5 miles.

Nov 4^th - My fastest marathon to date is 4:27:48. I know I can go better. Assigned to wave 2, which has the 4-hour pace group, I plan to stick with them. I get delayed in the morning and relegate myself to wave 3. With Plan A down the drain, I decide to go easy on my own. The first half comes around in 1:52:54 - my fastest half marathon ever. Even if the cramps and pain come, I now have buffer. We enter Manhattan. It reminds me of all the people I cherish, my teams, my home, of the homes I have - in India, Pittsburgh, Stanford, Boston. The miles go by. There is no suffering. Only joy and a lot of gratitude. I run a uniform pace. When 5^th Avenue makes me want to walk, I tell myself - Dragons don't walk, they fly. First time I've run the entire 26.2 miles, and I score 3:46:50 - better than my wildest dreams.

I make my way through the poncho-clad crowd, take the train to Times Square, come to rest, collect my thoughts. The highlights reel begins. It's been a season full of extraordinary hearts - people who have been to the 70.3 World Championships or trained with Olympians in Bulgaria, yet didn't mind sitting behind a novice averaging 14 mph, urging him to pedal harder, pushing him to a world he aspires to. There are voices in my head - Marathoner, Finisher, IRONMAN, Dragon,.... There's one that stands out, one that brings out all the pent-up emotion, the same voice that propels me mile after mile, day in day out - Game, Set and Match.

Tuesday, May 23, 2017

Race Calendar

January 6, 2018 - Walt Disney World Half-Marathon (4:04:15) Strava, Official Results (bib 22461), Pics

January 7, 2018 - Walt Disney World Marathon (7:30:34) Strava, Official Results (bib 22461), Pics, Fundraiser

March 18, 2018 - NYC Half Marathon (1:58:38) Strava, Official Results (bib 3992), Pics

May 6, 2018 - TD Five Boro Bike Tour, Strava, Official Results (bib 1987), Pics

May 30, 2018 - J.P. Morgan Corporate Challenge (26:35) Strava, Official Results

June 24, 2018 - IRONMAN 70.3 Mont-Tremblant (6:06:45) Strava, Official Results (bib 410), Pics, Fundraiser

September 30, 2018 - IRONMAN Chattanooga (12:01:52) Strava, Official Results (bib 137), Pics, Fundraiser, Video 1, Video 2 (at 2:00), Video 3

November 4, 2018 - NYC Marathon (3:46:50) Strava, Official Results (bib 31013), MarathonFoto

February 17, 2019 - Austin Marathon (4:16:30) Strava, Official Results (bib 215), Pics, Fundraiser

April 28, 2019 - Big Sur Marathon (4:24:41) Strava, Official Results (bib 3824), Pics, Official Pics

May 2, 2019 - Bloomberg Square Mile Relay (06:12) Strava, Official Results, Pics

May 5, 2019 - TD Five Boro Bike Tour, Strava, Official Results, Pics

May 29, 2019 - J.P. Morgan Corporate Challenge (canceled)

June 2, 2019 - America's Most Beautiful Bike Ride, Strava, Pics, Fundraiser

June 9, 2019 - Seattle Rock n Roll Marathon (3:42:29) Strava, Official Results (bib 20537), Pics, Fundraiser

September 8, 2019 - IRONMAN Wisconsin (12:59:14) Strava, Official Results (bib 1282), Pics, Fundraiser

February 8, 2020 - New Orleans Rock n Roll 5k (26:10) Strava, Official Results (bib 40117)

February 9, 2020 - New Orleans Rock n Roll Marathon, (3:41:33) Strava, Official Results (bib 1461), FinisherPix, Fundraiser

March 1, 2020 - Tokyo Marathon CANCELED

March 21, 2020 - Asheville Half-Marathon CANCELED

March 22, 2020 - Asheville Marathon, Fundraiser CANCELED

August 7, 2022 - IRONMAN 70.3 Boulder (6:37:34) Strava, Official Results (bib 1349), Pics

July 18-19, 2022 - TGNY 100 (28:27:17) Strava, Official Results (bib 107), Pics

Thursday, May 18, 2017

Pittsburgh in Pink

To read my season recap, please click here. This post is intended to be a trip down the memory lane for the weekend of May 7^th. I do not guarantee the absence of life-lessons though.

I had arrived in Pittsburgh knowing that I hadn't quite had the kind of training season required to run a marathon, leave alone a hilly one. Basically a good patch of runs from March 3^rd to April 10^th, and then a fortnight of agony and anxiety, with limited amount of exercising. The best thing I could do was to rest my body the week of, and run without any pressure whatsoever. I did.

Running for a cause, the Susan G. Komen Foundation, in honor of Elizabeth, my American sister, added extra meaning to the race, and staying with our Mom Gail throughout the weekend ensured that I was never short on inspiration (or as we like to call it, runspiration) and that my nutrition stayed absolutely perfect. The weather played its part too, and what unfolded was a dream, a run I doubt I could have executed even with 16-18 proper weeks of training. Less is more at times.

Sunday morning, Gail dropped me off in Downtown where a little walk brought me to the bag check area. Temperatures were still in the low 40s. With the race supposed to start off in 15 minutes, I started dressing down. An elderly gentleman co-marathoner walked by, suggesting I keep things on for another 10. So right he was. I could sense the contrast between NYC and a smaller marathon such as Pittsburgh. Not so formal and strict, no big waits anywhere. I reached the start corrals by 7:10 and got to begin running at 7:38:41 am. I didn't know anyone and could only see one familiar cap around - a purple Team in Training, so I wished her luck. It was a bit chilly, leading me to keep my arm-warmers on, and I just never took them off because they were from the NYC Marathon, and served as an instant reminder that I had done it once before, I could do it again. I just had to BELIEVE. Ok, I did not want to trash them either.

Beam them up, Scotty

At the start line

As soon as the race began, I could see that this was going to be a marathon to be done by myself. At NYC, there were teammates running the race too, and for example, I had asked Deb to slow me down if I reached her in the first half. I had had the comfort of knowing there would be coaches on course in the tougher stages of the marathon. Everyone alongside was going the same distance and hence, I could in some sense establish fellow runners as checkpoints of my own pace and progress. In Pittsburgh, there were half-marathoners and relay teams mixed in, and I wouldn't know who was doing what unless I over-took and looked back at their bib. Too much effort. Let's just go out and do my own damn thing. No one to compete with. No time goal. Just me and 26.2 miles to a finish line. Come on!

I had at the back of my mind memories of how I had felt in the later stages of NYC, how I had slowed down from an average pace of 9:55 in the first half to 11:23 in the second. In the interim, I had run two half-marathons, both negative splits, and I knew that it felt nice to achieve one. Doing it at a marathon though - uh, well, we'll see once I get to the mid-race hills.

The first 4.4 miles took me through Strip District, a flat bridge (the David McCullough) and around PNC Park, registering an average pace of 11:05/mile. I know this exact number only because I have the results in front of me as I write. Out there on the course, I wasn't looking at the clocks. Strava was registering my run, but it doesn't get the distances exactly, and hence I wasn't relying on my tracker to know my speed. Plus, I didn't want to know. Just me and 26.2-4.4=21.8 miles to a finish line. Another 2 miles and I was close to the West End Bridge, chewing my first Gu, in good shape, feeling fit.

On to the West End Bridge

The next mile turned out to be quite an eventful one. A heavy gust of wind uprooted a road-side entertainment tent and swung a pole right into the lady running in front of me. Had I been 2 seconds faster, it would have been me taking the hit. It just wasn't her day, it was mine. Sorry gal. Soon enough, we went down a steep hill, turned left, and again left, making a U-turn only to climb that same steep hill on a parallel road. I could not fathom why the organisers would make us do this. Couldn't you have added an extra 0.2 miles of flat land somewhere else in the city?!? But it was what it was. Did it, went on with it. No qualms. Just me and 18 miles to a finish line.

For 3 miles there on, we ran along the Monongahela river. I remember seeing an array of Army personnel cheering us on, and high-fived every single one of them. Because when you don't care about your finish time, you can afford to do fun stuff!! I was slowly and steadily inching closer to the big hills at mile 13, and a subsequent meeting with Gail.

This I feel is where I made my smartest decision of the day. I pre-poned my Gu by a bit, made sure I wasn't dehydrated or low on electrolytes before hitting that big hill, and crested through it. It rose 200 feet within a mile, and yet, had zero impact. Somehow, I just wasn't losing energy. Maybe my reduced training had been a blessing in disguise and left my body much fresher and stronger. Or maybe it was just psycho-somatic that after going through so much pain the entire season, I wasn't ready to feel it any more. Whatever it was, it worked wonders.

The half-marathon mark came up in 2:20:32, although during the run, I only knew that it must have been somewhere between 2:18 and 2:20 from the few times I had seen the course clocks and the numbers I vaguely remembered. For comparison's sake, my NYC time was 4:39:00 which meant that if I could do a negative split, I would have a PR. This was the first time I got thinking about matters of speed. Before hitting the mile 14 marker, I met Gail, my biggest cheer-leader, along with Todd, a good friend from my Pittsburgh days. Being a runner himself, he told her I didn't look like I had gone 13 miles already. And I like to concur. The pacing, the no-goal plan had worked well so far. I was feeling good, and more importantly, happy to be just out there, able to run, and run for a cause. It also helped that I was running close by Carnegie Mellon, and I remembered joking with a few friends who had been there, that the marathon would look easy compared to what a Master's in Computer Science from CMU puts you through.

My American Mom

Todd

I had heard of the generosity of the cheering squads in Pittsburgh and that was to be on full display in the next few miles. There were people offering orange slices, bananas, beef jerky, candy, beer, and what not. Unfortunately, I'm a stickler to Nothing New on Race Day and could not accept any of these. But it was heart-warming to see such gestures of kindness, which reminded me so much of my own days in the city, how I had met two of the best friends ever - Gail and Hugo, and so many other fabulous kind souls.

And then around mile 16-17 came my favorite memory of the day. I needed some fluid and at the upcoming Gatorade station, I could see a little girl, maybe 3 feet tall, holding out a cup. The runners though, weren't taking hers, maybe because they were tiring off and did not wish to bend. Me, eh, I was doing fine, feeling great, feeling grateful, so I approached her. And off she went jumping up and down, shouting Yay, telling her parent (most likely) that I took her cup, all while I slowly walked ahead, gulping down my dose. Over dinner with some good friends and folks who had helped our campaign, I would recite the story, and someone remarked - Maybe it was her joy that seeped into you, and got you to finish so strong. Who knows? Maybe it did. Thank you little girl for making my day, nonetheless.

By the time I reached mile 19, I could feel a little twinge behind my right knee, and a heavy bladder. It was also a bit uphill, and I slowed down deliberately, knowing that the toughest miles were still to come. And as fate would have it, just as I was running by a line of 4 occupied porta-johns with no waiting lines, one of them opened up, and I had my chance - 30 seconds in and out, and it even had hand-sanitizer and tissue paper available. Those things are a luxury in NYC. Alright, on to the last 10k, gaining speed, the average at 20 miles was 10:35/mile, which meant I was beating my NYC time. Again, I didn't know it exactly back then, but going by how good I was feeling, I knew it wasn't a distant possibility. Just me and 6.2 miles to a finish line.

By now, the course had become almost deserted. The half-marathoners had left us way back, the relay folks were few and far between, and with only 3439 marathoners around, our density wasn't high either. All of this meant that I could run at whatever pace I wanted, where I wanted. I could pick the shady side of the roads, under the trees, away from the sun, didn't have to worry about collisions while over-taking. I was definitely not feeling as great as I had at mile 14, but still, much better than I had at mile 20 in NYC. It was here that I brought out my mantra - reading out the poem If to myself. And when I do it, I replay the first and last paragraphs in Federer's voice from this video. I heard him say - If you can fill the unforgiving minute with sixty seconds' worth of distance run, yours is the earth and everything that's in it. My eyes welled up and I know I'm being a bit crazy/narcissistic here but I did really think to myself - mine is the earth, mine is this course, mine is this day. That surge would be enough to soar me through to a 7:14 negative split, and a 5:10 PR.

At mile 24, we undid the 200 feet we had gone up earlier, allowing me some faster times, and a further push towards the negative split. In the next mile, I ran past the pacer for the 4:30 group, and it saddened me that he was walking, possibly with an injury. I couldn't imagine how he must have been feeling, having taken up a duty earlier, and knew that there wasn't much I could do for him. Getting closer to the finish line, I could sense that I could go full-blast and Strava would later tell me that I ran the last 2 miles in 16:49, that's 2 minutes per mile faster than my average pace. At NYC, I'd started getting emotional too early (mile 25.5 I think) and this time, I was trying to not repeat that. The marathon helped by placing the finish line around a corner, so it wasn't visible until the 200 yards mark.

But boy did I realise something as soon as I did that corner. No matter how strong I wish to be, I can't resist crying at the sight of a finish line. And out came the tears, pew pew pew.

Sunglasses are a good tool for hiding tears

And then came the finish. Oh, that glorious finish. Just me and a finish line. So emotional, so beautiful, so rewarding. I wasn't physically exhausted that bad, but the season had taken its toll on the mind, and I collapsed on my knees, wishing I could sit there, and shed out my tears all day long. Damn you spotters for whisking me away against my wishes.

I knew it had been a PR, I knew it had been a negative split. From a pure statistics point of view, I loved how my cumulative average pace across checkpoints never slowed except for that 1 second during the tough hills of mile 13.

I know I have written a lot about this in my season-recap but I'll briefly re-iterate just how much this marathon meant - the highest point in a season of incessant lows, an affirmation of the spirit, a stern reminder that no matter what comes my way, the love and strength of my support system will always be enough to break down all barriers. On the course, I was running by myself, but alongside in spirit and in my heart, ran everyone who had inspired me to not quit. It turned out to be a dream run, but even if it hadn't, I would have been just as happy, just as over-whelmed, and just as grateful to the people I have the honor of calling my friends.

What's next - On July 23, this trio takes to the streets of San Francisco, rolling through 1600 ft of elevation gain over 26.2 miles including the Golden Gate Bridge. It's been hugely inspiring to me in person to see these two wonderful people make leaps and strides, progressing steadily towards their first marathon, and I hope if you're in the Bay Area, you'll come out to cheer us on.

Until then, stay tuned, and have a great summer. Adios.