"Waaaat! Marathon?! U gone bonkers or wat?" See that's the problem with friends. Tell them you're ready to take on the world and do something extraordinary and they either have an expression on their face which reads, "You didn't just say that" or they smile indulgently secretly hoping that you'll come round soon and toe the line of sanity.
Somehow, my crazy self always gets the upper-hand in such situations. It shook me awake at 4.30 am today, coaxed me to get out of my pyjamas and put on my Nike trackpants and the white Vadodara marathon t-shirt and my badminton shoes (this was the first time I tried them outdoors because I don't have another pair of running shoes) and brought me to the Navlakha ground in next to the Laxmi Vilas Palace to 5.30 am.
It was cold and the wind did make it any better for marathon runners (the official count was 30,000). We were stamped on like convicts and ushered into our respective categories - Dream Run Men/Women 5 km, Dream Run U-19 3 km, Dream run 45-60 yrs 3 km, 15 km, 21 km. Yes, this was the marathon. Vadodara doesn't have 42 kms of road it can spare for a Sunday event like this. The route was circular, passing through the old walled city areas of Dandiabazar and Raopura. That, and only that, was my reason to run. I haven't had much opportunity to see the old city on foot. In Vadodara, people simply don't walk. And if you do, you'll find a bunch of autos queuing up behind you, hoping that you'll take a lift. Plus, I hadn't had the chance to see Vadodara at sunrise, except while stepping out of the station (you get the awesome view of the sun rising from behind the dome of the MS University).
When you wake up so early for a run, you just want to run. The cold was getting to me and I kept shifting on my feet as all marathon runners waited for the flag off. But before that, like most events in India, we had to stand through an hour-long speech-cum-cultural programme ritual. I had hoped for Queen, I got a prayer sung by one of our friends' schoolteachers. There was a flutter amongst the schoolkids as the Pathan brothers (they were the flagbearers) were introduced along with a chain of other celebs Kapil Dev (yawn!), Paresh Rawal, Manav Gohil and a few others. Then came the Chief Minister's speech, "Vadodara is about Gandhi, Gaekwad, Modi and Pathan". Modi had ditched his saffron robes for a black safari suit and had spiced his speech up with poetry on communal harmony and national integration. "Buck up," he said, when people were leaving the ground for the 15 km run.
I looked around to find women in tight jeans sporting chandelier earrings. Some had worn floaters with socks, others had wrapped silk stoles around their necks. Vadodara Marathon isn't just about sport! The marathon was flagged off and a sea of humanity walked, yes walked, out of the ground. It took a photographer, perched atop a gate, to point his camera to actually get people to jog. People looked for company and chatted noisily as if they were out for their regular morning walk. In Mumbai, people train before the marathon. In Vadodara, the marathon is seen as the stepping stone to launch into a fitness regimen.
I jogged alone, pausing once to pick up a bottle of water from the stall. While the organisers had arranged for lots of water bottles, they hadn't thought much of dustbins to dispose the water bottles and sachets. We played hurdle race as we avoided heaps of used water bottles on the road. We were running for the city. But we had just ruined it.
The 5 km run ended in chaos. There were two boards labelled as Finishing Point. I did not know where to run. Like most people, I chose to run to the one closer to the car park (it makes sense to just go home straight after a run like that). The winners we'll know of in tomorrow's paper.
I am not a marathon person. In Mumbai I would always cheer (or even sneer at) those who would walk during the marathon. At least now I know how difficult it is. But I'm happy I got to see the old city. Will I run another next year? Maybe if I am in another city!
Somehow, my crazy self always gets the upper-hand in such situations. It shook me awake at 4.30 am today, coaxed me to get out of my pyjamas and put on my Nike trackpants and the white Vadodara marathon t-shirt and my badminton shoes (this was the first time I tried them outdoors because I don't have another pair of running shoes) and brought me to the Navlakha ground in next to the Laxmi Vilas Palace to 5.30 am.
It was cold and the wind did make it any better for marathon runners (the official count was 30,000). We were stamped on like convicts and ushered into our respective categories - Dream Run Men/Women 5 km, Dream Run U-19 3 km, Dream run 45-60 yrs 3 km, 15 km, 21 km. Yes, this was the marathon. Vadodara doesn't have 42 kms of road it can spare for a Sunday event like this. The route was circular, passing through the old walled city areas of Dandiabazar and Raopura. That, and only that, was my reason to run. I haven't had much opportunity to see the old city on foot. In Vadodara, people simply don't walk. And if you do, you'll find a bunch of autos queuing up behind you, hoping that you'll take a lift. Plus, I hadn't had the chance to see Vadodara at sunrise, except while stepping out of the station (you get the awesome view of the sun rising from behind the dome of the MS University).
When you wake up so early for a run, you just want to run. The cold was getting to me and I kept shifting on my feet as all marathon runners waited for the flag off. But before that, like most events in India, we had to stand through an hour-long speech-cum-cultural programme ritual. I had hoped for Queen, I got a prayer sung by one of our friends' schoolteachers. There was a flutter amongst the schoolkids as the Pathan brothers (they were the flagbearers) were introduced along with a chain of other celebs Kapil Dev (yawn!), Paresh Rawal, Manav Gohil and a few others. Then came the Chief Minister's speech, "Vadodara is about Gandhi, Gaekwad, Modi and Pathan". Modi had ditched his saffron robes for a black safari suit and had spiced his speech up with poetry on communal harmony and national integration. "Buck up," he said, when people were leaving the ground for the 15 km run.
I looked around to find women in tight jeans sporting chandelier earrings. Some had worn floaters with socks, others had wrapped silk stoles around their necks. Vadodara Marathon isn't just about sport! The marathon was flagged off and a sea of humanity walked, yes walked, out of the ground. It took a photographer, perched atop a gate, to point his camera to actually get people to jog. People looked for company and chatted noisily as if they were out for their regular morning walk. In Mumbai, people train before the marathon. In Vadodara, the marathon is seen as the stepping stone to launch into a fitness regimen.
I jogged alone, pausing once to pick up a bottle of water from the stall. While the organisers had arranged for lots of water bottles, they hadn't thought much of dustbins to dispose the water bottles and sachets. We played hurdle race as we avoided heaps of used water bottles on the road. We were running for the city. But we had just ruined it.
The 5 km run ended in chaos. There were two boards labelled as Finishing Point. I did not know where to run. Like most people, I chose to run to the one closer to the car park (it makes sense to just go home straight after a run like that). The winners we'll know of in tomorrow's paper.
I am not a marathon person. In Mumbai I would always cheer (or even sneer at) those who would walk during the marathon. At least now I know how difficult it is. But I'm happy I got to see the old city. Will I run another next year? Maybe if I am in another city!
2 comments:
You showed me a side of the cherished "Marathon" concept that is sarcastic yet subtle! Keep on!!!
Run, Eisha, run!
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