The Half Marathon - a dream come true, or did it not?

As I locked the door, I just prayed to God — please ensure that there is no bowel movement till I come back home. It’s fine if I don’t finish the half marathon, but no embarrassments, please.

Prayer said.

I walked down to my usual running area, about 5 minutes away from my home.

That afternoon, my younger brother — a more experienced runner — had said, “Warm up for 5 minutes with a slow jog. Then do some dynamic stretching. Then start slowly for the first few kms, and once you feel comfortable, speed up to your goal pace and try to maintain it. If possible, try to speed up in the last 2–3 kms.”

Sane advice.

But since when do we listen to advice — that too from a younger brother?

During all my training runs, I had noticed one thing — on days of fast running, the pace at which I start becomes the pace for that session. I could never increase the pace as the run progressed. That was a big mental block for me.

Anyway, I started with a 5-minute walk followed by a 5-minute jog. Felt comfortable. No bowel sensitivity. This improved my confidence.

Then, when I started doing dynamic stretches, the hydration pack on my back felt a bit loose. It had a mind of its own — going all over the place. So I stopped, adjusted a bit, and started my Garmin watch to officially record what could become my second half marathon.

My goal pace was 7:00–7:12 minutes per km. I set myself up for a slow run for the first 2 kms, well below target pace, just to get into the groove.

But then, sometimes something random happens which frustrates you.

That happened within one minute.

The hydration pack belt at my chest broke, and it started slipping off my shoulder. I adjusted one side. After some time, the other slipped. By the end of the first km, this had become a constant nuisance — something I had to resign to. Adjust every 10–15 meters.

At the end of the first loop (about 2.1 km), I felt comfortable. I thought, this is good. Another 9 loops to go.

At the same time, the constant adjustment reminded me of Kamal Haasan’s dialogue in Pammal K. Sambandham —

“maadu isthukunu poguthu, paambu kazhutha nerikuthu… ithula dialogue vera pesa solriye directoru.” 😆😂

After 2 km, I increased my speed to target pace. Running became comfortable. I was sipping water every 10–15 minutes. One important lesson from training was to stay hydrated — it really improved performance. So, almost on the dot of every 2 kms, I took 2–3 sips.

As the sun started setting, the weather became cooler. There was no breeze, but the lack of traffic and the ample street lights made it a good experience. I was just focusing on my breathing and hydration. Not thinking of anything else.

Just hearing my footsteps, in that calm stretch, gave me a kind of zen feeling.

After the second loop, I increased pace further and was now cruising under 7:00 min/km. My target was to finish in 2 hours 30 minutes. At the halfway mark — 11.5 km — I was right on track.

I finished my 13th km, and midway, I hit “the wall.”

Cricket lovers might think I’m referring to Rahul Dravid. No. This is the runners’ wall.

You just get exhausted. You feel like you cannot take another step forward.

I stopped. Checked my heart rate — 184 bpm. That was my maximum zone.

For a moment, I thought — this is bad.

I had read experienced runners and coaches say: never push yourself at max heart rate. Stay at least 15 beats below.

I immediately stopped and started walking. Decided to walk until my heart rate came down to the 160s, and then restart running. This recovery was necessary. No point in pushing and getting injured.

False bravado doesn’t work in life.

As they say, when it rains, it pours.

As I started walking and breathing hard, within 30 seconds, a Chennai Corporation mosquito fogging machine passed by — spewing a thick cloud of chemical. 😂🤦‍♂️

That pushed me down even further.

Finally, once my heart rate settled around 160, I restarted.

The 14th km was good. By the 15th, I was back at target speed.

Then tiredness crept in.

At the start of the 16th km, I decided on a strategy — walk for 30 seconds at the start of every km, then run the rest. I felt I had a plan. It gave me hope that I could still finish within my target.

As a wise man once said — hope is not a strategy.

Still, the 16th km went well.

Then disaster struck.

As I turned a corner, just about to finish the 16th km and start my walk break, a few stray dogs started barking — with one of them following me.

Fear gripped me.

I stopped completely. Tried shooing them away — no effect. Slowly walked away. Thankfully, they stopped.

But by then, I had lost almost 2 minutes.

More importantly, I had lost rhythm. Flow.

When I tried to run again, it was slow. My legs wouldn’t respond. Somehow managed to complete the 17th km.

Start of 18th — even slower.

Midway into the 18th, I started getting abdominal cramps. While I had heard of runners’ cramps, it is usually in the legs. Abdominal cramping triggered a new set of fears.

Now the mind started questioning everything.

Should I stop?

Go home?

Is this even necessary?

What am I trying to prove — and to whom?

At one point, I told myself — if I have to go on my long pilgrimage, I will face far tougher challenges than this. If I give up now, it becomes easier to give up later.

So quitting was not an option.

To cut a long story short, I jogged the last 5 kms and finished in 2:41.

Slower than planned — but a very important lesson learned.

I stopped my watch and simply said — thank you, God.

When I reached home and opened the door, my younger brother was waiting with a chocolate brownie and vanilla ice cream — to celebrate me winning the “Nobel Prize.” 😂😂

Well… there was a dampener on that celebration.

PS: As they say, to gain somethings, you have to lose something

My pains over 14 weeks of training and the actual half marathon run.