Marathon

I stretched my arm, it was just a few inches away, out of my reach. And I think that that could have been it for my marathon career.

Being now in my middle fifties and having earned enough for my lifetime, I still think, rather I should say I feel a bit impatient and restless or some may call it sketchy over the fact of my retirement at a very early stage of life and also because of the emptiness that has slowly crept in my life. The reason I give myself is that I got so used to the shout and cheer of the crowd from my marathon days that I now find missing from my life. It is not that I liked fame, but I don't know why I just seemed to love the sound.

We were two brothers, I being the elder one. We had a big family business which had been running from the time of my forefathers, so naturally, I was expected to increase further the riches of our family, needless to say, we were already quite a prosperous one, but the thing was that from my birth I was slim and tall which gave me an automatic advantage of speed and stamina, but majorly stamina was my strong point. So from my early tens, I was already inclined towards athletics, with my particular interest being in marathons, sprints were just not my type. In marathons, by maintaining my stamina I could easily vary my speed according to the time and stage of the race.

It was 1984 when I turned 16 and the energy of youth had started flowing into me with an even greater immenseness, making me quicker both in my wit and feet. It was then, that I ran my first big marathon.

But before I dive into details, let me get something straight, my father was COMPLETELY IGNORANT of my interests. Till that time he used to think that I was running those petty interschool races just as a timepass, but when I told him about my real intentions, it was a serious blow to the dreams he had seen of my could-be successful business career. He was but a very strong-minded and composed person, so after turning my words over in his mind, at last, he agreed on one condition: if I could win first place in the race I told him about, he would let me pursue my dream.

The race mentioned was a mere 25km marathon, a piece of cake for me had it not been for the state champion's participation in it. I was confident about winning second place but beating the state champion was not going to be a cakewalk.

This incident occurred in mid-January and the marathon was to take place in the last week of April. So I started training the very next day and set myself the task of winning first place. I wasn't going to leave this golden chance my father had given me and quit just because I was given the task of beating the state champion. The problem that sprang up was that since I trained all day long I wasn't able to pay attention to my exams which were not too far, the result being that I just scraped through them, not to mention that I was my school topper till that time and this sudden decrease started a chain of scoldings from everywhere, from parents to relatives and from neighbours to teachers.

What worried me was not my grades but that the scolding session wasted two crucial days which otherwise could have been spent practising. However, the day of the Big Race arrived, I call it this because it turned out to be the most important race of my life. There was the huge number of participants getting warmed near the start line, and there was my father in the stands-cum-footpath. He was looking as stern as anyone possibly could, it shook me from within. The thought of, what if I lose? shot through my brain, but I eventually succeeded in calming myself down and told myself that I could do it and I would do it.

The pistol banged and we took off, all those days of rigorous training seemed to be paying off as I took the lead from the very start, yes, I was ahead of the state champion, and so remained the case throughout almost the whole race. As I neared the end I could see the crowd cheering. But I found it queer, WHY? I did not know. It was after a few seconds that I noticed the cause of this inexplicable strangeness.

My father was smiling at me.

There was a gleam in his eyes and an eagerness in his face. This although should have motivated me, instead I was taken so much by surprise by this rare sight that I came under pressure and my lead started crumbling as I saw the champion gaining on me quickly and easily. I got nervous as I saw him coming close to me and so I tried running faster but it felt like that smile had absorbed all my stamina. The pressure and nervousness proved to be too deadly a combo for me and as I was about to reach the finish line, my head became all fizzy and I fainted, as I was falling I tried to extend my arm to somehow touch the finish line but the few inches between us became unreachable. I had been using my body rather freely the past three months and it paid off at the wrong moment, the exhaustion combined with my nervous breakdown, made me lose the one race I was most determined to win. As my body hit the ground I could see my dreams crumbling to dust as well.

When I woke up, I found myself at my home with my father seated beside me, with the same strange smile on his face but it felt like it was mingled with a sense of pride. He said that I never made it to the finish line and fainted right before it with my arm stretched out with the tip of my fingers centimetres away from the finish line, I wasn't surprised, but I felt utterly disappointed over the fact that now I couldn't achieve the thing I worked so hard for. It seemed that my father read my mind and said that he had no problem with me becoming a professional runner. Again I was so taken by surprise that I fainted again.

This was the start of a career that was about to test me in every way possible.