The Cuckoo Plan : SCMM 2015

I had written down my Plan for the Standard Chartered Mumbai Marathon 2015:

“I just want One Mind.

I just want One Plan.

I just want One Goal.

I just want to run a 4:00 hour Marathon! 

Trust is the Supreme Daring!” 

I had advertised it far and wide!

Namrata, my daughter, and I had discussed the blog and its possible consequences.  Was it, she had asked, necessary to tell the whole world of my plans, so far in advance, especially when I was seeking a target that was so out of my reach?

The only danger with advertising ones target is the danger of failing to achieve it.  I have never been worried about failing publicly.  I’m a harder critique of myself than anyone else can be and so it does not bother me.

The advantages of advertising my target, on the other hand, surpass the dangers.  There is a possibility that my friends may be inspired by my target and push themselves as well.  Besides even if I fail, they will see me pick myself up and go at it again. And there is some good in that too.

I missed my 4:00 marathon target.  I held One-mind, One-Goal and One-Plan throughout the race.  I gave it my 100%.  I tried my best.  I did not make it.

The pace I held to make it in 4:00 was perhaps just too fast for my current ability.  This perhaps, caused me to miss, not only the 4:00 target but also the 4:10 mark, which I thought I was capable of.  But that is water under the bridge. One never knows what might have been.  There is no advantage in speculating what might have been.

The 4:00 target was missed and that’s that.

Did I fail? Well, Yes and No. 

Two issues are involved: Math and Emotion.

Mathematically there is no doubt that I missed 4:00. I ended up with 4:16:23.

But when I analyze it emotionally, I see it differently. 

In my first SCMM, I did not get an official time because by the time I finished, they had removed the timing carpet and even the finish-line clock.

For a long time afterwards, I improved as a runner but I started the Pacing initiative in India and started pacing the sub 5:00 bus.  Consequently I became a 4:58/59 runner.  Year after year, I simply finished in either 4:58 or 4:59.

In 2014 I decided that I would not pace and simply try and run fast. I tried to push my time (without the requisite training). I ended up with a 4:50. I was very disappointed but from that day on, I decided that I would train for pace. 

With this, larger frame of reference a 4:16:23 isn’t all that bad.

To go from 4:50 to 4:16:23, in one year, is pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty, GOOD!  

It is my personal best and it does push me up on the 89km Comrades Ultra Marathon start-line seeding. Did I say, pretty Good?

Of course, I cannot deny that there is a part of me that feels sad at missing not only 4:00 but also 4:10.

The 4:00 target, in hindsight, was madness. A Bit Cuckoo! 

By all logical reasoning, it is madness to aim 10 minutes faster than what one is capable of. 

But since when has marathon running and logical reasoning gone hand in hand? 

So what was I really thinking? Was 4:00 ever possible?

In the 1975 movie, One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest, Jack Nicholson is trying to escape from a mental institution.  In one of the scenes he tries to pull out the drinking water trough and use it to smash one of the barred windows to escape. 

One of the other patients says, “Don’t be stupid, you can’t do that.” Jack replied, “Yes I can, anything is possible.”

Jack gives it everything.  He strains his hands, legs and back until the veins stick out of his neck.  But he could not move the thing at all.

They all said, “We told you that you couldn’t do it.”

Nicholson looks at them and says, “But I tried, didn’t I? Goddamnit, at least I did.”

Was 4:00 impossible?

Yes, Perhaps it was impossible. But I tried, didn’t I? Goddamnit, at least I did.

    

Race Day Mantra!

Race Day Mantra!

When it comes to race day, I don’t keep my plans a secret.  I announce them to the whole world, way in advance.  I’ve been this way since I was a kid in school.  I used to always loudly proclaim that I knew nothing of the subject, that I had not studied and that I was probably going to flunk.  And then, true to my word, I would.  I hate to lie.

I haven’t changed.  Unfortunately with Running, I proclaim, that I want to do well, that I have trained hard, that I want to run a personal best but somehow on race day things haven’t panned out as planned.

I hope that this changes. So I announced to my friends, via my blog “Trust: The Supreme Daring” 

http://amitdaretorun.blogspot.in/2015/01/trust-supreme-daring.html?spref=fb&m=1

In the concluding paragraph of the blog, I wrote my Plan for SCMM 2015:

“I just want One Mind.

I just want One Plan.

I just want One Goal.

I just want to run a 4:00 hour Marathon! 

Trust is the Supreme Daring! ”

This, however, is easier said than done. 

Every marathoner knows that “when the shit hits the fan” our immediate thought is “What in the world am I doing here on a Sunday morning when I could be in bed instead?”

The thing with running a marathon is that the best laid plans fall apart when the pain sets in.  And I am very worried about how I will remain focused and concentrate on race day.  How will I stick to my One-Mind, One-Plan and One-Goal strategy?

I am searching for inspiration! 

The first thing to do is to accept that the pain will come and then make a plan on how I will deal with it.   

Daniel Brown wrote that, “It’s not a question of whether you will hurt, or how much you will hurt; it’s a question of what you will do, and how well you will do it, while pain has her wanton way with you” 

A wise man has said that, “Your mind will quit a thousand times before your body will.  Feel the fear and do it anyway.”

I, as most people will attest, am not wise!

Normally, once my mind starts screaming at me to stop the insanity, I start to stop concentrating on the run and slow down. 

With SCMM 2015 just a few days away, I am filled with dread. I know that once again, my mind, my body and my character will be tested.

So I need a mantra to focus on.  I need to stay with One-Mind, One-Goal and One-plan. 

I need Inspiration!

I recently read a fantastic book, “The Boys in the Boat” by Daniel James Brown.  It is a book about the sport of rowing, but it is also a book about Life.  It is one of the best books that I have ever read.

The book tells of an epic-true life journey about ordinary boys becoming extraordinary men. 

It is a story about nine young men from the State of Washington. It is about boys – farm boys, fishermen, and loggers – from extremely poor families during the great depression who shocked both the rowing world and Adolf Hitler by winning the gold medal in the eight-oared rowing at the 1936 Olympics. 

 “Rowing is perhaps the toughest of sports.  Once the race starts, there are no time-outs.  It calls upon the limits of human endurance.”

“When you row, the major muscles in your arms, legs and back – particularly the quadriceps, triceps, biceps, deltoids, latissimus dorsi, abdomicals, hamstrings, and gluteal muscles – do most of the grunt work, propelling the boat forward against the unrelenting resistance of water and wind.  At the same time, scores of smaller muscles in the neck, wrists, hands, and even the feet continually fine-tune your efforts, holding the body in constant equipoise in order to maintain the exquisite balance necessary to keep a 24 inch wide vessel on an even keel.”*

“The result is that the body burns calories and consumes oxygen at a rate that is unmatched in almost any human endeavor.  Physiologists have calculated that rowing a 2000 meter race – the Olympic standard – takes the same physiological toll as playing two basketball games back-to-back. And it exacts that toll in about 6 mintues. 

Pound for Pound, Olympic oarsmen may take in and process as much oxygen as a thoroughbred racehorse.

“The common denominator is overwhelming pain.  And what every oarsman comes to learn is that pain is a part and parcel of his sport.”

 “There is no place to stop and take a drink of water or a lungful of cool air.  You just keep your eyes glued on the red, perspiring neck of the fellow ahead of you and row until they tell you it’s all over....”

“MIND IN THE BOAT”

George Morry, was the coxswain, of the US team.  (a coxswain, is the member of the rowing team who sits in the stern facing the bow and his team mates and steers the boat, and coordinates the power and rhythm of the rowers.  He sets the strategy during the race by shouting out instructions and makes sure that the team rows in a synchronized fashion).  

George Morry came up with a mantra to help the oarsmen concentrate and focus on the job at hand.  

As they rowed, George Morry would shout: “M-I-B, M-I-B, M-I-B, M-I-B, M-I-B” over and over to the rhythm of their stroke. The initials stood for “MIND IN BOAT”. 

“It was meant as a reminder that from the time an oarsman steps into a racing shell until the moment that the boat crosses the finish line, he must keep his mind focused on what is happening inside the boat.”* “MIND IN THE BOAT, MIND IN THE BOAT, MIND IN THE BOAT”

"It was meant to remind him that his whole world must shrink down to the small space within the gunwales.”* “M-I-B, M-I-B, M-I-B”

“It was meant to remind him that he must maintain a singular focus on the rower just ahead of him and that he must focus on the voice of the coxswain calling out the commands."* “MIND IN THE BOAT, MIND IN THE BOAT, MIND IN THE BOAT”

Nothing must distract him – not the other competing boats, nor the pain in his muscles, nor the lack of oxygen in their lungs - nothing can enter the successful oarsmen’s mind for he has just one focus! "M-I-B, M-I-B, M-I-B”

And so, for SCMM 2015, I have a plan. Whenever I find my Mind meandering away from the race, I plan to chant my Mantra....MIND IN THE BOAT, MIND IN THE BOAT, MIND IN THE BOAT..

Whenever I feel my pace falling.."M-I-B, M-I-B, M-I-B”

Whenever I feel myself tiring..."M-I-B, M-I-B, M-I-B”

Whenever I feel uncertainty..."M-I-B, M-I-B, M-I-B”

Whenever I feel pain.."M-I-B, M-I-B, M-I-B”

For so many of us SCMM Runners, “THE BOAT” has come to mean so much more than we can express!  

My BOAT is not just my body. It is so much more. My BOAT is my love for running, it is my idea of pride and joy and respect for myself.  It is my test of my physical endurance. It is a test of my mental and emotional toughness.

It is my idea of growing from boyhood to manhood.*

By keeping my “MIND IN THE BOAT” on this one special marathon day, I hope that I might be able to push through my aches and pains and then for a moment I might enjoy a mystical moment of pride and elation and I even might, perhaps for a brief fleeting moment, find myself closer to God!...CLOSER TO GOD !!

Really???? God?????

I think I’m going a bit overboard here..Closer to God, might just be a bit too much!

I think that I will simply settle for a time that I can learn to run past pain, past discomfort, past exhaustion, and past the negative voices in my head.  

I will simply settle for a PERSONAL BEST..A 4:00 Marathon !!!

M-I-B..M-I-B..M-I-B !!  

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Boys In the Boat : Daniel James Brown

The main protagonist of the story “Boys in the Boat” is Joe Rantz.  He life became a metaphor for those hard days of the great depression.  His mother had died when he was a child.  His step-mother disliked him. 

In 1929, when little Joe came home one day from school, he found that his whole family (Father, step-mother and her kids) were sitting in a car.  The car was packed with all their belongings.  His father told him that he was taking his new family and leaving and Joe was not to come along.  And then this little boy had to stay alone in the house, and find his food in the forest.   He subsists by foraging in the forest for mushrooms and berries and fishing for salmon in the river.  

Yet he manages to get through school, gets himself to college and into the rowing team.  At first he finds it hard to trust the other members of his crew on the boat.  And yet in the end, he becomes a crucial member of the crew. 

After writing my blog about the “Boys in the Boat” I got an email from Judy, Joe Rantz’s daughter.  Somehow, due to the miracle of the internet, she had read my blog.  To get a letter from her was one of the proudest moments of my life. 

I take the liberty of reproducing her letter.  I hope that all the runner for SCMM will find inspiration in her words!

Amit,
My name is Judy Rantz Willman.  My father was Joe Rantz.  I just wanted to let you know how much it means to me that you have been inspired by "The Boys in the Boat".  

I know that all the Boys would have loved the fact that the story of their struggles is being a source of inspiration for people all over the world.  

I believe that it is desperately important that we all begin to look at our problems with a "how can I solve it" attitude instead of an "it's someone else's fault" attitude.  Bravo to you!

I would love to know how well you are able to hang on to MIB in your next run, and if you feel it has helped you.

Sincerely,
Judy  

Trust: The Supreme Daring

One of my favourite movies is “The Last Samurai”.  It is a beautiful movie based in 19^th Century Japan.  I love the movie because it’s filled with loads of samurai life-wisdom. 

Capt. Nathan Algren, (Tom Cruise) is an American army officer hired by the Japanese Emperor to help train his army.  The Emperor wishes to eradicate the ancient Samurai warrior class which, in his opinion, is hindering the westernization of Japan.  The samurai are led by their chief Katsumoto (Ken Wantanabe).  

Tom Cruise becomes fascinated by the samurai, their pure lifestyle, and their pursuit of perfection. He switches sides and ends up supporting the samurai against the Emperor’s armies. His change of heart is brought on, in no small measure, due to the gorgeously attractive lead actress, Taka (Koyuki).   

In one of the scenes, Tom Cruise is fencing (using a wooden sword) with a Samurai warrior who keeps beating him every single time.  Tom’s mind is not focused and so he loses each duel.  A large crowd has gathered to watch and are joyfully betting on the outcome of each round. 

Tom has a friend in the crowd, Nobutada.  As he gets whacked by the wooden sword again and again, Nobutada runs up to him, to give him some advice.

  

The following exchange takes place.

“Nobutada: Please forgive; too many mind.

Tom Cruise: (puzzled) “Too many mind?”

Nobutada: Hai, mind the sword, mind the people watch, mind the enemy – too many mind.

Nobutada: No Mind!

Tom Cruise (pretending to understand): No mind!”

The mantra of “no-mind” relaxes Cruise while at the same time increasing his “awareness” of his surroundings.  He becomes “present” in the “moment” and goes on to excel in the next duel.

Osho has always said that “No-mind” is the key to enlightenment.   I believe that every marathon runner has “No-mind”.  If we had minds we wouldn’t be doing this race!  But unfortunately that is not the kind of “No-mind” which the enlightened Masters refer to.

So I, like most mortals, have “too many minds”.   There is a mind, which tells me each night that tomorrow morning, I must wake up early and go for a run.   In the morning, another mind speaks to me and says, “It’s cold and dark out.  Why don’t you take rest today and run tomorrow instead”.  Later in the day another mind speaks to me and says, “Oh! You should have gone and exercised today morning. You’ve wasted the day.”....Too many minds!!

But now, race day is close at hand and I need to focus on race day performance.  It is now time to set race day targets.

I have set one of my minds on running a personal best!

Running a personal best is quite tricky.  To run a personal best is challenging because it means that one is setting oneself up to achieve something one has never done before.  It means that I have to go into a zone which I have never been in before.  Some amount of pain may be inevitable and I need to be prepared to hurt.  Being mentally prepared for the pain to come means I won’t lose courage when the wheels start to come off.

But I’m a pragmatic guy. I am too full of knowledge and not enough wisdom.  And as I said, I have too many minds. And so I wonder...must I not have a back-up plan?

If after a few kilometres, it seems that plan A is not happening, must I not have a plan B and then a plan C and perhaps even a plan D?  

So plan A is that I want to run 42.2 in 4:00

Plan B is to run it in 4:10 (helps with the 89km Comrades Ultra start-line seeding)

Plan C is to run 4:20 (a respectable time)

Plan D is to run sub 5:00 (to simply qualify for the Comrades Ultra Marathon)

Based on my current training and my half marathon time in November 2014 (ADHM) of 1:52, I believe that Plan B (4:10) is achievable on January 18^th 2015. Besides, 4:10 would also be a personal best.  

But I also believe that for a personal best to really be a personal best, it has to be harder than what I have ever believed possible.  I can’t keep a target which is within my comfort zone. I must reach for the stars.  And I believe, wrongly or rightly, that a 4:10 is well within my comfort zone.   But is 4:10 really the “best I can do”? 

I have therefore come to the conclusion that my plan A has be out there, beyond the limits of the possible.   But as I plan to pursue a 4:00 hour marathon, I am very worried.  I am not a champion like Prefontaine who believed that “The best pace is a suicide pace”.  I know that going for a 4:00 and misjudging my pace and ability could be committing just that: Suicide!   Not only will 4:00 become out of question but even 4:10 might be lost. And so, I am plagued with doubt.

I know that I have devoted a huge amount of my time and body to this race.  I have trained as hard as I could.  I have done long runs, short runs, hill repeats, intervals and fartlek training.  I have followed a kick-ass training program. I have trained harder than at any point of time in my life, and then some.  I have tested myself on smaller runs, I have done race-pace training on smaller runs, I have done some race-pace running in the second part of longer runs.

But then there is still this nagging issue of all these other minds. They keep tormenting me. 

“Run a 4:10”, says one mind, “it will still be your personal best.”  “Just run an easy 4:20”, says the other. “Just qualify for Comrades with a sub 5:00”, says the third.

Too many minds!!  Must I take the leap into the unknown 4:00 or rely on the safe 4:10? 

I think that in all this mental confusion I have been overlooking one critical component. And that component is: “Trust”  

In the Kaivalya Upanishads the great Lord Brahma says that, “To experience the Ultimate Reality, one must take refuge in trust, devotion, meditation and yoga.”

And I, for one, see parallels between the search for the Ultimate Reality and my personal best!

Osho says that in order to gain the Ultimate all the four things (trust, devotion, meditation and yoga) are essential but the key is “Trust”.  One needs to start with Trust.  Without Trust nothing works.

I seem to have the devotion, meditation and yoga partially in place. Trust however seems to be the real issue.  I feel that there is a Trust deficit.  Do I have Trust in myself?

Osho says that, “To believe in what we can believe is not trust.  To accept what our intellect can accept is not trust.  To trust what can be supported by our reason is not trust.  

Trust is to agree with what our intellect is not willing to accept, what our reasoning is not willing to accept.  It is the possibility of what seems to be an impossibility. Acceptance of the impossible is trust.  This is why Trust is the supreme daring!

Trust is utter madness.  The very meaning of trust is that you take a quantum leap.  When all logic and reason has been exhausted, there you take a jump; where the road ends, there you take a jump.”

A 4:00 marathon is utter madness.  It needs a quantum leap of faith on my part.  I’m going to take that leap.  Trust is the only answer.  I have to Trust myself, I have to Trust my training. I have to Trust in the impossible.  Wisdom can only come existentially.

So what do I plan for Race Day? Will it be too many Minds or No-Mind?

“Too many minds” is too much noise. I can’t have that. “No-mind” is for enlightened Masters.  I can’t have that either. 

I just want One Mind.

I just want One Plan.

I just want One Goal.

I just want to run a 4:00 hour Marathon! 

Trust is the Supreme Daring!   

Mind Over Matter

It’s All In The Mind !

The wise have always spoken about the difference between knowledge and wisdom.  I have often personally experienced that knowledge without wisdom is dangerous.  The enlightened masters try and share their wisdom but things often get lost in translation.  Communication is difficult business especially when it is between people. 

As a passionate recreational athlete, I have tried to follow the words of all the great runners and athletes and come to realize that I often, totally misunderstand what they are trying to say.  Sometimes I don’t understand their point at all, and sometimes, and this is worse, I understand only half.

For many years, I have often heard people use the phrase, “It’s all in the mind”.  Until last year, I never really understood what it meant.  
People use this phrase very often to describe the last leg of a marathon.  After 32km, they say, “It’s all in the mind.”  For 89 Km Comrades Ultra Marathon, they use the phrase after the first 60km. “You can train for the first 60km, but after that, it’s all in the mind.”

My understanding or rather misunderstanding of this phrase, started with a fictional character.  It started with the Rocky movies. The first movie was released in 1976. I was just 10 years old then and I went to see it along with my Dad. I still vividly remember the awesome experience.  The 6th Rocky movie was released in 2006.  I own all the DVD’s and I know every scene from every movie.

In almost all the movies, there would be a fight when Rocky would be down and out inside the ring, his face would be beaten to pulp, his eyes would be swollen up and his nose broken.  There would be blood all over the place.  After a massive blow from his opponent, Rocky would fall down and the commentator would shout, “And Balboa is down!!” 

Then the music would start and we would get transported inside his mind. A slightly disoriented Rocky would visualize his coach shouting encouragements at him, his wife pleading him to get up, he would visualize his son, he would visualize fragments from his other fights, and all the time the beat of the music would be rising to a crescendo and then a voice-over would speak some kick-ass lines:  “Life isn’t about how hard you hit.  It’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward.  How much you can take and keep moving forward.  That’s how winning is done!”

By now, the music would have reached such a crescendo that I would have stopped eating my popcorn or sipping my coke. I now wanted to jump out of the seat and jump into the ring myself. 

And then, Rocky would miraculously find his strength! BOOOM!! BOOOM!!! BOOOM!!! Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah!!

He would then get up, in slow motion, and within minutes beat the other guy to pulp.

My conclusion on watching this: “It’s all in the mind.”

As I grew up I started to believe that some miracle happens when a champion is down and is in need of inspiration.  I started to believe that the champions have a special corner in their mind into which they can dip whenever they are in need of a reboot.  They simply dig deep and are able to pull-off miraculous recoveries at their own whim.  I came to believe that they have a superior mind which triumphs over adversity, a mind that triumphs over the weaknesses of their mortal bodies. That they are made of sterner awesome stuff! 

I came to believe that by purely the power of their mind, they can overcome all hurdles.   

I have often tried to do a Rocky.  

At 65km mark in 89 km Comrades Ultra Marathon, Neepa has shouted at me, “Come on Amit, it’s all in your mind. Be strong, think of the kids, they are waiting at the finish, Come on, RUN, don’t walk, let’s do this, let’s go, let’s go, you’re not tired, it’s all in your mind, you can’t give up, let’s go, let’s go, it’s all in your mind!!”

Standing on that Comrades route, buggered beyond reasonable limits, with salt having leached out of my body and onto my skin, with my stomach sick and full of a concoction of GU, Energade, Cola and being ready to vomit at a moment’s notice, I have searched inside myself and my mind for that elusive strength. I have searched for that mind which can prevail over my weak matter. 

I have waited for inspiration.  I have waited for the bells to ring, for the sound of music, for lightning to strike, for the heavens to open up, for the clouds to part and for the phoenix to rise.  I have waited for the elusive voice-over with some kick-ass dialogue.....It has never come. 

Matter has always won over my mind.  My mind has always given up.

After a few such experiences I concluded that either my mind was not strong enough, or that I have misunderstood the phrase, “mind over matter”.

Osho often used to say, “I am responsible only for what I say, and not for what you understand.” And I have come to the conclusion that I had understood only half of what the phrase meant.

Comrades 2014 finally made me see the light or at least the halo of a light.  I might have still not fully grasped the concept but I do now know that my original understanding was wrong and that in-itself is great progress.

For the 2014 Comrades, I followed a training schedule given to me by my friend Celi.  Celi dramatically altered my training routine.  I used to run about 1000km between Jan and May.  Celi made me run 1600km.  He made me do far more speed and hill training than I would have ever done on my own.  It was hard to push so much, but having experienced agony and tragedy on that Comrades road a few times, I was determined to do whatever it took to enjoy a safe finish. 

Celi gave me only one piece of advice besides my training schedule.  His advice was simple and elegant and scary.

For every speed and hill training day, he wrote: “Kill Yourself”*.  For every speed repeat he wanted me to push hard: “Kill yourself”*. 

For every repeat he wanted me to hold nothing back and to give it all I had. “Kill Yourself”*, he wrote.
 

Every time when I ran my repeats and felt myself slowing down, I asked myself the question, “Am I killing myself?” and the answer was invariably “No” and suddenly the legs would move again, faster and faster !

What he wanted me to do during my training runs was to get into a zone of discomfort.  He wanted to get me to experience the pain of race day, again and again in training, although only in small doses. And so I pushed through pain and did in training what I hoped to do on race day. 

And finally on Comrades day 2014, whenever I felt a bit tired, it was easy to look back with confidence at what I had endured in training.  I would again ask my mind, “Are you killing yourself?” and the answer was always a “No” and then I knew that I could keep moving forward towards the finish line. 

I had realized that it cannot be “mind over matter” in a crisis unless you have trained the mind when not in a crisis.  It is only when the mind has experienced in training that which is coming on race day, can you be prepared.

I have learnt that there cannot be a magic day unless I have done in training what I want to do on race day.  This does not mean that if I want to run a marathon in 4:30 that I have to run a 42k in training in 4:30 but it does mean that I do some decent amount of distances on race-day pace in training and some shorter distances faster than race-day pace in training.  The whole combination of training has to be perfect: long runs, recovery runs, speed intervals, hill intervals and fartlek runs.  Unless everything is done right, there won't be any race day magic!

In my non-scientific, purely personal, and non-professional opinion, I have come to the conclusion that the human mind is programmed to shut down the body whenever it fears that the body will irreversibly hurt itself.  The only way to push the body beyond its normal comfort zone is to convince the mind that the body will not perish and the only way to convince the mind is to take it into that zone in small doses in training.  So later, on race day, the mind recognizes the zone and allows the body to keep moving.

Looking back, I realize that Muhammad Ali, (a real-life hero as opposed to a fictional Rocky) had articulated the message perfectly well quite a long time ago but I had failed to understand it. 

Ali said that, “The fight is won or lost far away from witnesses- behind the lines, in the gym, and out there on the road, long before I dance under those lights.”

Finally I have understood what Ali meant. There is no sudden magic, the phoenix does not rise by some miraculous energy brought forth by the Gods, the skies don’t bring forth thunder showers to quench your thirst and music does not herald the victory of mind over matter.

If the mind has to prevail over matter when it matters, it has to first learn to do so when it does not matter.  

As a recreational runner, winning for me, on Comrades day, means simply finishing the race.  I have now come to believe that my battle to finish Comrades is also won or lost far away from witnesses- behind the lines, in the gym, and out there on the road, long before I stagger on uncertain wobbly legs into the stadium under those brilliant lights!

---------------------------------------------

*(All my conclusions in this blog might be applicable only to a subset of one. i.e: To Me.  I am not a coach and would not advice anyone else to follow anything I say.  Celi’s advice to me, “Kill Yourself”, was given with a certain explanation and expectation which was applicable only to me.  The word’s “Kill Yourself” in reference to the Comrades Ultra may be quite misunderstood and misconstrued. There is no intention on Celi’s or my part to get injured or damaged or killed while following our passion for running.  It is only a phrase meant for me to remember and motivate myself to push to the limits which I am capable of.  The phrase might as well have been: “Amit, my boy, Please Be very careful NOT to get injured but try and push yourself as hard as you can” in which case, it might have not worked for me. 

A long mantra might have not done its magic.  I needed a Rocky-esque dialogue.
And so Celi gave me my very own kick-ass mantra: "Kill Yourself" and it worked and in the final analysis, that is what Matters ! 

    

Life, Death & Comrades 2014

On the morning of Sunday 1st June 2014, I was on the road between PMB and Durban running the Comrades Marathon. One week later, on the morning of Sunday 8th June, I was on the road again. I was walking towards the crematorium carrying my father’s body.

People often cry at Comrades, some because they finish the race, others because they don’t finish.  I have celebrated both occasions with lots of tears, happy ones and sad ones.   This time however, when I finished Comrades, I cried and cried because I knew what awaited me on my arrival back home in Mumbai. I cried because even as I walked around with a medal around my neck, I knew that my dad was back home unconscious and running out of breaths.

Barry Holland has written that a Comrades runner does not follow the Christian Calendar.  He counts his year, Comrades to Comrades.  I’ve had a unique year starting with Comrades 2013 and finishing with Comrades 2014. It has been a year with just about as much stress as I can handle.   It all started with a DNF at Comrades 2013. I only managed to reach 85k when time ran out.  Comrades 2013 with its heat, wind, dust and my lack of ability was just the start of a long nightmare.  The minute I came back from Africa my Dad’s health spiralled downwards towards an abyss from which he would never recover.

Two operations in July took away his ability to talk and eat.  I wonder if he would have undertaken those operations if he knew about the quality of life which awaited him for the next 11 months.

With all the stress and cares at home with his health, I couldn’t run much from June 2013 until January 2014 and then a forgettable Mumbai marathon in January 2014 made me realize that Comrades 2014 was shaping up to be another disaster.

But then something unique happened.  I met Celi Mokhoba towards the end of January 2014. 
Celi happens not only to be the Technical Director of the Comrades Marathon and a Board Member and an elite coach but also a 6:50 Comrades runner himself.  Celi was visiting India to be part of the Mumbai Marathon Expo and as the Indian Ambassador for Comrades I spent time with him.  Being with him for a few days changed my perspective towards training. 
I requested Celi to help me with a training program and promised him that I would follow whatever plans that he was willing to set for me.  

After understanding my training routine, Celi simply upped my training volume.  I used to run about 900 to 1000 km between Jan and May for Comrades, Celi upped it to 1600km.   The thought of injury did cross my mind but I decided that I would rather injure myself and not go to Comrades than go to Comrades based on my old routine and get another DNF.

Celi promised me that if I followed his routine, I would not dramatically improve on time but that he would promise me a comfortable finish. 

A comfortable finish sounded to me like manna from heaven.

And so I embarked on 90km weeks from the 1st week of February. 
But as the days went by and the kms increased, my Dad’s health kept deteriorating.  He could not speak but he continuously wrote me notes explaining his discomfort and I ran around trying to find symptomatic treatments to deal with his ailments.  The underlying cancer was beyond treatment and the only goal was now to keep him comfortable. 

I would come home after half a day at the office and although I could not solve anything I would just sit at home and provide moral support. 

Every morning before I left home for my runs, either at 4:00 am or 5:00 am I would stand for a while outside his door to hear the sounds coming out of his room to check if he was sleeping or coughing or needed something.  I started carrying a phone on all my runs to ensure that my Mom could quickly get in touch with me.    I wanted to go out and finish my run and come home before he woke up from his meds induced sleep.

The helplessness one feels when seeing one’s loved ones suffer is a tragedy no one should experience.

And so day after day and hour after hour I battled to keep him comfortable and I failed every time.  Every new doctor would offer some meds to deal with a particular symptom and the med would create a new symptom which was equally bad.  And then all that could be done was to lock myself up in the bathroom and cry.

At the same time, I kept running and the kms kept increasing along with the heat and humidity of Mumbai but the hours spent in the morning on the road were the hours which kept me grounded on the job at hand.  The hours provided me with space to think and to keep myself from falling apart.  They provided me with an outlet for my stress. They provided me a private space to cry.

The days kept going past, the kms kept increasing, my dad’s health kept getting worse and I kept losing weight...83kgs fell to 82 to 81 to 80 to 79 to 78 to 77 and on and on until I would find myself in May at 72.5 kgs. 

By early May my Dad could not get out of bed and by mid-may he was unconscious.  The doctors advised that the end was near. 

I had to decide if I wanted to take the chance of flying out to South Africa to run Comrades.  At no point did I doubt my intention.  I wanted to run Comrades.  My only concern was the additional pressure my not being home would put to my mother.  But when she suggested that I go run, I knew I would go.

I ran Comrades with a heavy heart, often times on the road I thought of my Dad back home, unconscious and in a mental and physical state I knew nothing about.  I had left him without telling him that I was going to Africa.  He was no longer conscious but the ability to hear is the last sense which leaves a person and I didn’t want him to know that I was not at hand as I had been for the last 14 years to react to his call.  I had left him alone in his last days. 

I had the easiest Comrades run that any athlete can have.  Celi was right. It was a comfortable finish. 

I returned to India on the 3rd and my Dad passed away on the night of the 7th.  As condolences poured in on his demise, the overwhelming sentiment amongst my runner friends was that I must have dedicated this Comrades run for my Dad.  They suggested that he would have been so proud that I finished Comrades. They opined that he waited for me to finish Comrades and come back home before leaving on his final journey.  That he must have been proud to see my medal. 

An overwhelming number suggested that I must have run “this one was for my Dad”.

I kept quiet as I heard this again and again because these were words spoken with a good heart and with good wishes.  But I felt it was unfair to my Dad if I kept quiet.

The truth is that I didn’t run Comrades for my Dad.  I ran it for myself.

My relationship with my dad was not based on any responsibility.  It was based on love and love meant freedom.  For 14 years I did everything I could do to help him fight the disease.  I can say with certainty that no one could have done more to help and I can also say that I did all that I could, not out of any responsibility towards him but because I loved him.

My Dad had no real choice in the matter. I would have gone to the ends of the world for him, simply because I loved him.  My love for him arose out of freedom of action and thought. 

If I had stayed home and not gone to Africa it would have been out of a responsibility towards him and I felt that I was not responsible towards him.

My action towards him were always guided by free will and by my love for him.  I am responsible only towards my own conscience and towards my inner being.  My heart had told me to go and run Comrades because I love the race. 

Running is my happy thought.  It is the foundation which brings stability to me.  Running helped me love my dad to my full ability.  It gave me strength to walk into hundreds of consultations over 14 years with doctors to help cure him.  It gave me strength physically and mentally to keep up a brave face even as we were losing the war to save him. 

But I didn’t run Comrades for my Dad, I ran it for myself.  I ran Comrades because running Comrades makes me a better person and I aspire to greatness.

I believe that my Dad didn’t know that I went to run Comrades because I didn’t tell him.  I don’t believe that he knew that I completed Comrades because I didn’t tell him.  He was unconscious when I left and also when I returned and I doubt that he had a sense of time and space in those last 20 days.

 
I also know that my Dad didn’t care much about my running. He never expressed either a positive or a negative sentiment about my running but I know that he came from an old school of thought that “time at work” was the only time well spent. 

But I also know that my relationship with my father was not based on my running.  It was based on love and freedom.  He allowed me to chart my own course. 

It would therefore be an insult to him to say that I ran Comrades for him and that he would have been proud of my Comrades medal.  He was always proud of me because he loved me.  A Comrades finish or medal had nothing to do with love. 

A few hours before he passed away he opened his eyes.  I was standing close to him, I held his hand and told him, "Papa don't worry, I will look after everybody".

On the morning of Sunday 8th June, I was on the road, I was walking towards the crematorium carrying my father’s body. A week later on the morning of Sunday 15th June, I was swimming in the pool with my son Aryan.

I was missing my Father just as I have missed him every moment from the time he left me. There is this hole in my heart which will never be filled. 

As Aryan showed me his diving skills I pondered on the idea that I had once heard.  Someone said that you realize that your time is limited once your own father dies.  It’s then that you realize, for the first time, that you will be next.  I have often thought about my death and how I will face it.

But I wondered what really happens after death.  Was my father’s consciousness in a good place? Was his consciousness happy?

Aryan realized that I was distracted and asked me to play properly. It brought to mind a dialogue described by Osho about a meeting between Confucius and Lao Tzu. 

“Confucius asked, “What happens after death?” And Lao Tzu became aflame, like a flair, and he said, “Again! Are you going to drop your stupidity or not? You are alive - can you say what life is? You don’t know life while you are alive and you are bothering about death! You will have enough time in your grave. At that time you can meditate on what death is. Right now live! And don’t live lukewarm.”

Osho goes on to say that, “Many people go on living on dimmer switches. They go on dimming and dimming. They don’t die, they simply fade out.  Death happens to only a very few people, to those who have really lived and lived hot.  They know the difference between life and death because they have tasted life, and that experience of life makes them capable of death too. And because they know life, they can know death.  If living, you miss life, dying you will miss death.”

And so for now the thoughts of Death can wait!

Celi promised me that if I follow his program I can do a sub 11 Comrades in a few years time.

I am alive and I am never more alive than when I run Comrades.   I refuse to fade out.  I am not on a dimmer. I will taste life to its fullest.  I intend to live Hot.  

Comrades 2015, awaits!!