171- A Marathon Cut Up Into Scenes

Scene 1: The Beginning

You're born in Manila- a city teeming with people, pollution, cars, buildings, shanties, and oh, have I mentioned people? It's a mad world out there.

Scene 2: Elevation

You wear your compression gear, shoes, and grab your plastic tumbler containing a cold isotonic drink. You look towards an empty road. You do a mental map of the route ahead. You nod your head, as if to signify your willingness to accept the challenge of running for an X amount of hours, or, through X number of miles.

You start moving, and whisper to yourself, "This is what it's all about."

Scene 3: Constant Bliss

You get your run going. You find your bearings. You set a steady pace. After a while, you begin zipping by those who are a bit more "relaxed" than you are. After all, this is a competition, not a beauty contest.

You see empty roads around you. You see trickles of walkers and wanderers on the sidewalk- some cheering you on, others obliviously going about their business.

The sun is still sound asleep at this point. It's part of the natural progression of things.

The transition from darkness to light during these races is absolutely beautiful.

Scene 4: The Tough Part 

You've trained long and hard in preparation for this day. Some pain here and there, some cramping, but all in all, you're good. Nothing to it.

Marathons can be traitorous. No doubt about it. One minute, you're running like the wind. Nothing can stop you. Next thing you know, you're limping like no one's business- in spite of having trained like a madman in the months prior. You've been shaken, but not stirred enough that you want to quit.
You can't quit. You won't quit. It's just NOT your nature to quit.

Scene 5: Redemption 

You realise that you've hit the tail end of the race. You see the proverbial "light at the end of the tunnel". The best way to describe what you feel here is, "so near, yet so far". That can't be stressed enough.

You hear cheers from the people around the last mile or two. It helps egg you along the final stretch. You see the finish line arch from around the last turn. You're so close you can taste it.

Wait, that taste in your mouth is saliva, mixed with sweat, and Gatorade. But I digress.

People think that recreational runners cross the finish lines of races without paying mind to their finish times. Not the case. In fact, it's recreational runners who tend to be ultra concerned about performance. It's recreational runners who are the nerdiest about watches, shoes, and other gear. It's recreational runners who, perhaps, tend to savour victories and get bummed out about defeats the most because they aren't sure how much longer the can sustain being as strong- or interested- as they are about maintaining an optimum running standard. Don't let the word "recreational" fool you. The training done here is far from "recreational".

You get your finisher's medal, do stretch your muscles out, and head home.

Another day in the office done. Another race completed. Another moment jotted down to memory.

MC