After several years of stop-start running, I've finally entered another event: the Bombay marathon, on 15th January 2006.
Before I get too pleased with myself let me say that my chances of making it to the start-line (never mind the finish) are still hanging-in-the-balance; and the decision will probably go right up-to-the-wire. But I thought publishing my intention would at least provide me with alittle more impetus, which is never a bad thing.
I'm not a big fan of schedules, but I've looked at the standard HH 18 week schedule a couple of times to mark my progress, and I've been behind on both occassions. This wouldn't unerve me too much normally, but this is my first marathon and I don't think, given the heat and humidity, Bombay is the ideal first marathon.
Given the conditions and the unpredictability of the marathon, and India itself for that matter, I would have liked to go into this event well trained. And I don't think that's going to happen. So there's this big element of uncertainty.
I need to leave these shores (probably the week before Christmas) with a 20 under my belt, and then do regular running when I get to India. I've done 12-13 miles a couple of times so far. The fact that I should have 3 weeks in India before the event is a good thing for acclimatisation.
But running in India? There's a challenge. If we're at my brother-in-law's in Pune then I'll have the chaos of an Indian city to deal with. If we're at my inlaws in the rural centre of India then I'll have the local leopards and wild-bore sniffing around at dusk and dawn, when running should be most comfortable for me. A good incentive to increase my pace perhaps.
What to do? It's going to be a challenge, but I guess that's the way it should be.
Today I'm facing my first injury in the form of a calf-strain that I hope will not linger too long. Every day seems so critical at the moment as to whether I'll make it to the line or not.
But there's also a wonderful undercurrent of excitement. I can't wait for the day. I love Bombay. And on that day, if I make it, the city will stop for me to run through it. Pretty amazing stuff.
There's also the fact that this adventure will have 2 very distinct chapters. There's the solitude, darkness, coldness and challenging terrain of my native Yorkshire versus the flat, bright, heat and chaos of India.
Anyhow, just a quick thanks to the regular contributors on this site. I don't say much but I read quite regularly and there's some quality writing and good nuggets of wisdom to be found here. Plus a charm and level of good feeling that's difficult to find on the net.
Hopefully I can add to this in the coming weeks.
btw Andy, I never did get hold of the article you mentioned regarding this event. Can you remind me which mag it featured in? cheers.
Great to hear from such an exotic associate once again.
I just love the idea of the Bombay Marathon. Admittedly, the idea of the Calcutta marathon is even more glorious, but they haven't quite got their act together - from what I've read.
Runners World magazine (the UK version) had an excellent article on the Bombay race, written by the only bloke they employ who can write proper. His name is Andy Blackford. I doubt they 'employ' him, thinking about it. Must be a freelance. Too good for them.
Anyway, the item appeared...... when? Hmmmmm. Several months ago. Several, several, several months ago. Wouldn't like to say exactly.
Phone them and no they'll doubt tell you. I might even still have it somewhere. I'll take a look.
Promise me this - should your attempt at Bombay 2006 fail, please rearrange for Bombay 2007, and invite me. I already have a date with Sweder in South Africa for the Two Oceans Ultra Marathon in April 2007. Bombay would fit nicely into into my plan.
I must to India once more.
El Gordo
Great things are done when men and mountains meet.
Well done, Glaconman. Good to see it's not just Indian food that gets you going.
A friend of mine ran in Chennai in 2003. Here is his report to get you in the mood (he's seriously fast, by the way, having finished top 10 in The Grizzly one year, and probably capable of sub-3 under UK conditions). It sounds to me like you really need to get that 20 under your belt before you fly. Good luck !
"In response to enquiries from distant lands, here is my race report for the Chennai Marathon 2003. The reason I haven't provided the customary prompt summary is that I had difficulty knowing how to give you an honest account without leaving you with some dubious impressions of my new home town. I may not have succeeded, but don't think that I'm not happy to be here, it's just that running exposes you to the less salubrious side of Indian life.....
6.30am last Sunday 30th November found me on the start line of the third Chennai marathon, half an hour early for the race, just a couple of miles from our flat. A slightly over-ambitious speed session on the tread-mill 10 days earlier had left my otherwise injury free body with its regulation stiff two feet, and I was running in my flats. Would my feet last 3 hours with minimal protection?!
Several hundred people were milling around ready for the marathon/half/10km and 5km races. Mine was the only white face and I was attracting some attention. Several people stopped to pass a few words and, as usual, there were some who wanted their photo taken next to me. I set off down the course for a warm up and to escape the attention. Convinced that the race would begin late, I emerged from a loo adjacent to the start with about three minutes to go. I was mildly surprised to be told that the marathon had started several minutes ago. I mildly sprinted the next 10km in sub-40min, before my legs finally started listening to my head and I managed to slow the pace. In my wildest dreams, fully fit, and in a temperate climate I might hope to run a marathon at that pace, but my hopes here were to be inside 3 1/2 hours and if possible to beat 3h16min (1min/mile down on my theoretical best pace). The reason for this was the climate: most of my outside training had taken place in 70-90% humidity in temperatures of up to 35degC, and I was finding it hard to achieve any speed. Half my mileage (and all of the speed work) was on the treadmill. Race day saw humidity at 80%, however the temperature was below 30degC, and best of all the NE monsoon had brought cloudy skies so there was no direct sunlight!
In the early stages, running along Chennai's famously long marina beach road, the police were keeping a grip on the marshalling, however, as we headed across the river and down the East Coast Road, with its ribbon development of shops and housing, we were left on our own to avoid the trucks, cars, autorickshaws, bikes, cows, goats and dogs. I was running strongly, and gradually taking the slightly slower runners who had set off before me. I don't think they liked the light shower at 15km, but it suited me! Many of the runners were barefoot, some without even the meagre protection of taped toes to help them through 26 miles of tarmac running, which puts all my agonizing over footwear to shame! Seeing Isobel and the kids at about 16km lifted my spirits, and they passed me again a few minutes later in the car on their way to the next of several cheering points.
A little while later my spirits weren't helped much by seeing a dog being run over. It must have been an auto or bike that hit it as it wasn't wiped out straight away, but hauled itself across another lane of traffic to either lick its wounds or expire on the other side of the road. A km or so later we ran past a dog who had met a quicker end: I tried hard not to look at its entrails strewn along the road. The street dogs are everywhere, living off scraps foraged from the businesses along the road: their numbers are kept down by the huge number of road kills. To put this into context, there are 9000 (human) road deaths every year in this state, Tamil Nadu. To give you some idea what its like, think of a big city centre road, then add a few potholes and raised manhole covers, some cows, London rush hour traffic density with any gaps filled by two-wheelers, cyclists (and motorcyclists) riding against the flow of traffic, and then add in pedestrians blithely mingling with the near-side traffic lane, and there you have Chennai's streets.
We were on our way now to the turn point at 19km, and the leading men were seen across the road moving very fast in the opposite direction, unbelievably some of them going barefoot. The turning point was metaphorical as well as physical for me. It was pretty obvious I'd been going too fast, and was in no danger of a negative split. I was out on my own now, fending for myself on the busy road. I opted to run along the central reservation, relying on my eyecatching yellow vest and thigh-revealing shorts to slow the traffic down. I picked up a motorcycle outrider who stayed with me most of the way home. It took him a while to realise that he had to stay closer than a cars width to me, otherwise it actively encouraged motorbikes and autorickshaws to cut in between. I probably did quite well to only have to physically hand-off one autorickshaw and side-step a couple of bikes cutting me up.
Seeing the family again at 29km was great, but I was starting to get lost in my own little world, and by the time I hit 30km, I knew I'd shot my bolt. From here on in it was going to be attitude and a little bit of stamina that would get me home: no more racing for me. Although the sun was hiding, it was heading towards 10am and the day was warming up, but thankfully a brace of tropical downpours came along to refresh me. I passed one runner who was seeking out the puddles that I was avoiding to cool his bare feet.
As I hit the still-cordoned off marina road, 4km long, straight and flat, my legs went numb below the knee, answering the question whether I should have worn shoes with more padding or not - I'd never make it as a barefoot runner! Finally I could see the towers of the Jawaharlal Nehru stadium, the race finish. I increased the rate of my reduced-length stride into some semblance of a sprint finish, entered the stadium and finished the last 150m on the track, to applause and some stares, in 3h08m. Someone took my arm to make me walk away from the finish line, and I hoped he wouldn't let go, as I was pretty certain I'd fall over if he did! The moment passed, and I started looking around for water and family. A contingent of club athletes wanted their photo taken with me, but for once I wouldn't accommodate them - until I'd found the drinks table anyway. I asked where they were from, thinking somewhere like Vietnam, but they told me they were Indian - from Assam in the north. They look nothing at all like the dark skinned Tamils I live beside. India is a really big and diverse country!
I located the kids who found me a chair, and brought me cups of water to pour on my head, much to the amusement of the onlookers (and there was a big circle of them), who took many photographs. My 18th position qualified me for some prize money. I was glad I had not come in much higher up the order (my late start robbed me of a few places) as I would have felt guilty about taking money from the other athletes. First place was a substantial 150,000 Rupees (£2000, an Indian record). This is twice my driver's annual salary and three times what a maid would make, and they qualify as middle-income earners because of their employment by expats, with consequent higher pay.
OK, so the race itself was dreary, and the climate is not conducive to pleasant running, but I still felt pleased with a better than expected time, and it was good to participate as an equal with the Indians, rather than to be a distant expat.
Training for the marathon was a mental as well as physical endeavour. Training runs have introduced me to parts of Chennai that I would not have seen otherwise, and given me a rapid introduction to the conditions India's underclasses live in. My run to work takes me through palm-leaf slum dwellings, and people sleeping on the street, past water distribution points compensating for the city's dry wells. I am intimately acquainted with the toilet habits of a sector of society who know that if they all use the public toilets they'll get unspeakable diseases, so they use the beach, the river bank, the gutter. I've had to deal with uncomfortable thoughts that just by running through these people's housing I'm in some subtle way flaunting my wealth: they are thin because they can't afford to eat enough, not because they're on a marathon regime. India may be aiming to be a superpower by 2020, but they're going to have to deal with the 100,000,000 street dwellers and copious other social ills at some point.
Anyway, I'm going to have to come back and do it all again to try to get under 3 hours next time. But I cannot deny that I would much rather spend the time running up a mountain!
Thanks for the encouragement and info on the magazine article.
Ah yes, I recall your affection for Calcutta. The intellectual and cultural capital of India for many. I'm not sure if we'll make it there on this occassion; although the NE is not somewhere I have been, so I'm going to press a case and we may pass through. My wife went on a motorbike expedition to Sikhm, Bhutan, Assam etc in her youth. But now we have Jath, so the toy train to Darjeeling may be our limit.
I'll certainly let you know about future plans regarding runs in India. This was very last-minute and there didn't seem any point.
Nigel;
Many thanks for digging out the report. I spent a day in Chennai and walked along the front Alan ran along.
I have fond memories of Chennai station itself. Every announcement on the tanoy is preceeded by a long Oooohhhhhhmmmmmmmmm. And in the waiting room we were surrounded by Sabarimala pilgrims dressed entirely in black. They caught our train to Coimbatore and decorated the carriage with garlands of marigolds.
Street dogs are a major feature of India. They can be useful. We adopted one on my in-laws farm to guard at night. We called him Prince, and he was as fearless and loyal as you could wish for. But he was eventually eaten by a leopard.
Andy has an Indian dog story if my memory serves me correctly. Although it's very short and sad, as I remember.
We went to see an exhibition by Raghubir Singh at the photography museum in Bradford today. He's well celebrated, but for good reason. Some of his picturesjust take your breath away.
Rest day today after a night on the lash, so that's all for now.
The Darjeeling toy train is an absolute joy, and it wouldn't be just young Jath giggling and whooping as it winds its way up the mountain. My 10 days in DJ were bizarre and memorable. One day, I will tell you the story of my fling with the French Ambassador's wife, and my abortive attempt to attend a dinner party inside Darjeeling Jail. It's a wonderful town. I have more memories per hour for Darjeeling than I have for any other place in that 5 month trip to India and Nepal. Don't get me started.
Getting back to the Bombay Marathon, I think a real tough problem to confront is the climate. You mention having 3 weeks or so in India beforehand, though of course all your 'useful' running training will have happened before then. It might be an idea to get along to your local gym in Yorkshire during a quiet period and do a few long runs on a treadmill. More useful than pounding along a freezing track by Top Withens.
But to be honest, I think whatever you do at this stage is likely to be not quite enough. Which isn't really a problem. Just means that the final 5 or 10 miles migh be a bit of a struggle. I think it's your first marathon, so I'd advise what I advise for all first marathoners - just aim to finish the race. Don't worry about time targets because if you've not been that distance before you've no idea what target is realistic. It will only impose unnecessary stress. Just get round, that's all you need to think about.
We'll give you more help and support nearer the time, as long as you keep us informed of where you are and what you're doing. I'd love to hear about it, and I'm sure that the others would too.
Cheers
Andy
El Gordo
Great things are done when men and mountains meet.
Leopards grow to over 6 feet in length, can jump 20 feet horizontally, 10 feet vertically and can run at up to 40 mph. And are, of course, very carnivorous.
Other than that, training in India sounds like a fantastic idea!
Id like to echo Andy's call for reports, Glaconman.
Your adventure has the potential to become an epic, and we're all eager to learn how you're getting on.
Some of us are insanely jealous, too
The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph
I'm always actively trying to get you started. You shouldn't keep all those adventures and stories in your head. Unless that's were they started, of course.
I'm sure the Darjeeling train is a great experience. Having enjoyed 3 steam, narrow-gauge journeys in India (Shimla, Ooty and Kangra Valley) I'm keen to see what may be the best of them all. Although Kalka-Shimla will take some beating. The porter service in Shimla is second-to-none; not only do they carry your bags through the steep bazaar, but they then offer to sell you hashish in your room. First class sir.
Regarding the running: I know gym work may be sound technical advice, but I just can't bring myself to run in a gym. You know the arguments.
I quote you: "But to be honest, I think whatever you do at this stage is likely to be not quite enough". This is quite depressing reading, but an honest evaluation nonetheless. I read a quick article by Hal Higdon the other day which is probably well known: where he expresses his dismay at the phrase '26 gruelling miles'. The point being that, if you're well trained, the first 10 are likely to be easy, the second 10 hard, and only the last 6 gruelling.
The number of 'gruellers' for me are likely to be somewhere between 6 and 12; but how well I train over the next couple of weeks will determine the exact figure. And I know which I'd prefer.
Nigel;
It occurs to me that I responded to Alan's report with a 'rose-tinted' view of India (literally if you read roses for marigolds). I'll endeavour to give a more balanced report from the place whilst I'm there.
For me India represents humanity in it's sharpest focus. It never fails to make an impression as one can experience 'the wonderful and the retched' in the same lunchtime. More later I'm sure.
MLCM;
Thank you for your succinct and enlightening post. I must remember to pack my catapult.
glaconman Wrote:Andy; You shouldn't keep all those adventures and stories in your head. Unless that's were they started, of course.
Harsh, very harsh....
I know the Ooty train which was a good 'un. Darjeeling is a longer journey I think, and the train a bit smaller? I can't really remember.
Didn't mean to be off-putting about the training. If you're reasonably fit, you will have no trouble getting round, but you'll have to take it really steady. I think it's Nigel who often recalls the famous advice - Start slow, then taper off. That's the best I can offer at this stage. You need to play the long game.
Drink plenty of water in the days leading up to the race. At least 3 or 4 litres. I should think that dehydration would be a real worry in an Indian marathon. Take a few gels or similar to try to keep a bit of energy in reserve.
And remember, it's a marathon not a sprint.
You might find Ozzy Gontang interesting. He's a laid-back Californian dude who organises the San Diego marathon. Does an interesting line in sort of marathoning for the Buddhist. You'll find a collection of his articles here:
It's a minor tradition, but I always read this one before a marathon: http://www.mindfulness.com/om1.html[url=http://www.mindfulness.com/om.html][/url]
There's some good advice in these articles about the lead-up to a race, and how to prepare yourself mentally for the challenge.
El Gordo
Great things are done when men and mountains meet.
