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Never have I ran this long a distance, and never have I ran with this much emotion. The marathon as I now see it, was not just a battle of strength and stamina but in fact a psychological war which had dimensions I never knew existed.
Pondering about this “great challenge” which left me with sore legs and an overwhelmed mind, I decided that I should write an account, the experience of my heart journeying this distance.
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After having an extra early meal, I hastily drove off to Queensbay where the marathon was to begin. Sharp 2.00 AM the marathon began and the sea of participants started moving albeit, slowly. I kept telling myself “Slow pace, slow pace, Rexy!” so that I won’t speed off and wear myself out early on.
Going at a slow and gentle pace of 10KM per hour, I was able to sustain myself well for the first 20KM.Then as everything seemed to go very much uneventfully, I decided to slow down and finally start walking. A regretful decision indeed!
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Soon as I kept moving forward at my “Starwalk” like pace, a subtle pain started manifesting itself behind my knees. I realised it was not a pain that would go off immediately. After some time, my legs were just crying out in pain asking me to stop. Succumbing to this pain, I sat by the pavement to massage my worn out legs.
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As I sat down there relieving my aching legs, I glanced at the fellow marathoners passing by. Looking intently at their faces, I realised I was not the only one in this mental tug of war. Distraught and embattled faces outnumbered those who had some kinda cheer. Turning a deaf ear to my leg's relentless cry, I stood up and kept marching on.
As I descended the Bridge a thought of relief filled my mind.”Finally some rest for my legs!”Little did I know the journey was far from over. It would test me to my farthest limits.
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This last stretch from Penang Bridge to Macallum and then back to Queensbay was about 12-15KM , a distance very much fine for a seasoned runner. But after covering 30 KM,I felt very much exhausted. Every kilometre seemed like a huge hurdle. As time ticked away, I knew it was a losing battle to reach my goals.
Confidence ebbed away. Finishing the marathon in 5 hours was the first aim; soon it was 5.5 hours and then 6 hours. The thought of not going back with the finisher medal and T-shirt haunted me. “What if I don’t complete in 7 hours?” “Will I get my finisher medal?” These questions raced back and forth my mind.
Confidence, strength and stamina were all at an all time low but I knew if I kept pushing, perhaps, by the grace of G-d there would be some hope.
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As I approached the final 5KM of the journey it became almost a hellish experience. Almost every 5 minutes I would sit down to massage my overstrained legs and then hastily get up to brisk walk again. Soon it was down to the final 1KM.
I knew the pain, torture and misery were coming to an end, and so with every bit of energy I had within me, I sprinted to the finish line.6 HOURS 16MINUTES 44SECONDS.I was satisfied :)