Tokyo Marathon 2023
“Ah, never again!” The famous last words which got repeated again and again, so much so that this time when i proclaimed loudly to my small group of reluctant supporters, never again, they didn’t even bat an eyelid or pat my tired back or soothe my sore soul. Well, anyway, thast how Tokyo 2023 ended so let me take you to the very start……way back in 2020. 9 days before I was due to fly , Covid struck and we know how life changed after that. Fast forward 3 years and Japan opened its doors to minions like us, wannabe stars in the running world, one of the 35000 hopefuls. Training sucked and tested all aspects of one’s being. However much the positive spirit in me denies, training does test your limits. It was not the physicality of running but the discipline of getting to my shoes that annoyed me. A constant struggle between me and the monkey on my shoulder.
So this is not the story of how I ran 26.2 miles, but rather the story of how I actually reached the start line in the first place.
First and foremost, you must have the dream to chase, the dream of that shiny piece of metal, the dream of being surrounded by all that energy. Once you have that insatiable thirst, you will do anything to achieve it. That meant waking up at odd hours to stretch, reorganising your working day to steal some time for your runs, to layer yourself up in warm clothes because it is raining out there. Yes, these things suck, but the sight of the shiny metal solves everything. You must have the dream.
Secondly, it takes a village to raise a child. yeh to suna hoga na…. and it applies here too. I am very fortunate that I am surrounded by the best of best in terms of family and friends. All working towards a single goal, all in sync with the race and super enthusiastic about it too.
So the marathon started and from the word go, it was not the race but the place that took my heart. The Japanese culture and habits stood out, clean, punctual and well mannered. No over the top shouting or blaring adverts heralding the marathon taking place. Locals were out in full force, omnipresent, ever helpful.
The route was well marked and slightly undulating. Water stops every 2km but not a single get packet or water bottle strewn on the road. People followed all instructions and dutifully threw trash int he bins along the road. There was absolutely no litter compared to t he sticky roads we see in marathons elsewhere.
I carried on, wary that i was running alone and worried about any injury. But thankfully, it was fine. Spotting Ram every few kilometres was my Patronus charm and boy, it worked so well. His shouts and screams of excitement gave me the much needed spurt of energy and soon it was all over. I felt a bit lost at the end, surrounded by strangers in a foreign land but a call from the kids broke my spell and tears flowed , of happiness, of relief, of pain…..hobbled back to the exit and was reunited with my gang. Surreal but true, I was yet again a marathoner.
And all that happened because of a dream and the village I built around me.
Never again , she said, Never again! and they looked away, smiling!!!
To my Kids with Love 