Monday, December 3, 2007

Ready to Try Again.

I walked into the room and gave Wei a wry look.

"You yanked it out?" He asked.

I nodded and held it between my thumb and the index. "There was no pain."

"It", as you might not have already guessed, was the toenail that I've yanked out of my right big toe. It miraculously survived the Big 42.195 earlier that day, and was stubbornly refusing to let go until I decided that enough was enough. I know I've treated it badly by ramming it against the insides my new shoe (which was half a size too small) like 3,000 times during one of those long-distance trainings. So it gave up on me.

But I'm glad that the sacrification wasn't in vain. I think I've trained reasonably hard for the marathon, even though I wasn't entirely satisfied with the timing. Well, let's hope for something better next year (yes, there will be a next year).

I guess it was a huge adrenaline rush for a lot of people, including myself. It's different when you see thousands running with you; and I've often wondered quietly while pounding the pavements on the outskirts of my neighbourhood during training sessions if I was alone. Evidently I wasn't.

How everyone cheered when the elite runners sprinted passed. Someone made small talk and people around them laughed. I saw a friend with his blind partner, joined only by a piece of thread around their wrists. Another was pushing someone on a wheelchair. And as I left Marina South and headed towards the city, the sun had barely peeked through the horizons. The weather better be fucking cloudy.

Unfortunately it wasn't. Despite the cheers, screams and dance-moves from school teams, I began to experience the lost of adrenaline after the 21km mark. There's still 21km to go, and the sun was already out in full force. It was eight in the morning, two-and-a-half hours since I started running. And the end seemed nowhere in sight. In fact, compared to what I had merticulously marked on mapmyrun.com, it seemed to be going further and further away. Damn that stupid site.

I think my first stop was somewhere after the turning point at the 26km mark. I could feel my thigh muscles acting up - it was a definite sign of painful cramps I have always experienced the moment I breached the 25km mark. I could only start to slather my legs with gooey muscle rub and keep hydrating myself, and must have got a high from all that medicated gunk. The sun was happily toasting everyone alive and it really didn't help when the cheering teams suddenly disppeared.

I got a jolt out of the blue when there was a little commotion in front of me - someone fell and was wringing in pain from severe cramps. Several guys stopped to help and I dished out my muscle rub and we just went into a mad frenzy trying to ease the cramps. When we made sure that he was okay, I continued my journey and was greatly humbled.

It seemed like eternity after passing the 35km mark; I felt like I was running on the spot beause the next kilometre mark took forever to appear. And as I approached Stadium Road, a group of Malay girls were performing a hilarious rap - our eyes met for a brief moment, and then we all started cracking up. Mysteriously, I've lost some of my fatigue and gained a little strength and support, while finally believing that I can finish the race.

However the leg cramps persisted and it felt worse everytime I took an additional step. I looked ahead - majority of the runners were walking, completely exhausted and spent. It was almost 10:30 and it felt as if I was trapped in an oven despite dousing myself with cups and cups of water. It's times like this when you think of people around you, and who else was I missing but Wei.

I crossed the last few markers in a blur and realized that I've just passed the 42km mark with 195 metres to go. The audience cheered and snapped pictures of the runners as we approach the finishing line. Now I need to look incredibly stupendous, just in case my picture appears on the front page of the dailies (right...).

And as I crossed the finishing line, the timer beeped and I knew this is the end of the long journey. It has probably been a year ever since I've decided to train for this, and now it's finally over. Something I once thought of as truly crazy, since I wasn't the biggest fan of sports. It's probably a good time to lay my long-suffering trainers to rest, while reminiscing about the evenings spent running around the neighbourhood, cursing and swearing why the hell am I doing all this.

But for now, I just need to get a new pair of trainers, grow a new toenail, and I am ready to try again.