A super impromptu FM. The extreme ends of irony and impulse. For the past 4 years since my first 42km, I had adamantly avoided marathons, such was the trauma I experienced!
Not even sure why I agreed to this run. Mostly inspired by my tri buddy. If he can endure such pain, who was I to complain? I was sorely undertrained and severely lacking in nutritional discipline…. Plus, a friend whom I bumped into on race day morning commented “WAH!!! You getting fat hor?! I’ve never seen you so big before.”….. sheesh…..
For first time, I felt a strange quiet assurance… albeit the expectancy of beyond brutal pain… Was I prepared to go through this? Hell yeah…. I wanted to test my limits. To see if mentally (and physically) I am still able to endure the bashing after months of hiatus. No fixed timing expectations but a sub 6hr would be awesome. Just run and see how la….
1hr before race, I got a msg from a friend who had valiantly (or foolishly haha!!) decided to “upgrade himself to test his limits”. Ignorance is bliss and I never dampen anyone’s spirits. It is always good to try!
I left my house at 430pm and what would normally be a 20min drive ended up more than 1hr. My friend left his Serangoon house at 4pm… and at 530pm, contacted me saying he was still stuck in the massive jam at Beach Road. Traffic was horrendous, and many of us had to park as far as 5km away from the start point although there was plenty of parking lots available at the nearby malls…. The marathon entrance literally looked like a sardine journey… with a good 80k people paying to suffer.
My friend and I went into the same pen. I happily paced him and enjoyed the atmosphere. Weather was in our favour and the initial hovering dark clouds soon vanished. Hurray!!! With all the hype, I realised that I sorely miss the race adrenaline rush.
Unfortunately, my friend cramped at 20km. Kudos for lasting that long despite close to zero mileage on the runs for the past 6 months.
Medical tent after tent we passed by
Medic: Anything I can do to help?
Me: Do you have muscle spray?
Medic: No.
Me: Gel?
Medic: No.
Me: Antiseptic? (Asking for fun)
Medic: No.
Me: ……. Okay what do you have?
Medic: (sheepishly) Only ice.
I felt like waving a wand and shouting “stupefy!” So that he would drop his pack of ice on the floor.
Instead, I laughed, thanked them for not helping, assured them it wasn’t their fault, thanked them again for the many tedious hours of standing, did my comedian job of making them laugh, and we carried on.
At 22km, we were duly informed that those unable to carry on will have to wait AT LEAST 3hrs for the sweeper bus to arrive. I replied in half jest that I’ll be lucky to still be alive by then… I was ravenous. Laughter. I went to the toilet and somehow completely dislodged the soap dispenser, which fell to the ground and promptly vomited its contents. I commented “fk the marathon”. More laughter from the ladies in the washroom. I think time passes by faster when you are full of crap.
I was nagged a gazillion times to go ahead and finish the marathon. How could I, knowing medical help was NOT available? Friend was already limping. 8km walk to the finish line AFTER taking a shortcut.
Many, many swear words later did we finally see the magic “42”. It was like the rays of Heaven blasting through the depths of Hell.
30km. 5:32hrs.
For the 2 nd time in my life, I witnessed a personal friend of mine cross the finish line in absolute pain. It tore my heart as I recalled how my buddy cramped for an entire 21km in Bintan… a grim reminder of the human resilience.
My first ever DNF. Neither proud nor ashamed. Friendship is worth much more.
No photos of my friends here for privacy sake. But I am blessed to be surrounded by nutty people. 5 years ago, the thought of an endurance race was beyond reach. 5 years later, anything is possible if you believe. Every race I learn something new. Every race is awesome.
Written by Elise
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Ivannation
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