If running Marathon is Insanity, What then is Spartathlon?

The clock is ticking while the final curtain is moving to a close.  Year 2010 is about to end...  There is something about 'end' that is nostalgic.  Before reaching for this blog, a friend broke the news that my most unforgettable priest has now put to rest in the bosom of the Lord.  His name is Father James Reuter.  I will not forget the best recollections / retreats I had with him...

Another unforgettable and almost surreal event, a milestone in my life, is finishing my first full marathon.

Running it was difficult from the start. My race started ahead of the starting line.  It started when I was struggling with the idea of doing a full marathon.  Am I prepared for it and the training that goes with it?  the last long slow distance I did was almost a year ago.  Am I fit for it?  With the project I was working on that time that demanded even my weekends.  It was almost impossible to steal time to train.

There was a Cain and Abel in my mind.  My left brain, analyzing the situation, said "No!" My riskier right brain said, "If not now, you will never do."

And so I waited for the last day to register.  After a week, packed my overnight bag, wore my running shoes and headed to the nearest bus terminal to Naga..

So after going through the discomfort of riding a 10-hour bus ride, running for shelter at 4 in the morning as hotels are all booked, trying to get sleep from a partying neighborhood (it was fiesta!), and waking up at midnight to get on the road before it closes for the race... Sleepiness, hunger, fatigue, heat... these were all the factors that kept my body clock ticking like a timebomb... I thought I wont finish my first full marathon. Every bit of step after my 25th kilometer was grueling.  Between END and DNF, neither was an option.  Neither was found in my vocabulary.  What was prompting like a ticker in my head was E-N-D-U-R-A-N-C-E.  I was spelling it out the whole time.  I was glad that I still had the presence of mind, inspite of the exhaustion, to spell it and not stop at the instance of 'D.' Or i may be sorry now...

And so I did finish.  It may not be the best time for anyone but I did make it before the curtain call. Recognizing not champagne but Red Horse crossing the finish line. Not a bouquet of flowers but a garland of pride (with a golden finisher's medal).  I finished the 42km!!! Wow! When I got to the hotel, the first thing I asked the frontdesk was a schedule for a massage.  Wowed (because I finished 42km) but perplexed, she asked me "why would you spend hours to travel here, get an expensive room, pay to join a run, just to ran out of energy and leave you pain all over..."  Why? Let me answer through an article about running long distance.  If running a full marathon is insanity for people, what then is spartathlon?

Vomit, Bleeding nipples, Hallucination.  Why would anyone in their right mind run the Spartathlon?? 
The Parthenon is lit, but Athens is still dark.  In the gloom, a cleaner is sweeping the pedestrianised road that runs beneath the southern slope of the Acropolis.  And in the trees beside the Odeon of Herodes Atticus, an ancient stone theatre, Lyrca-clad figures are urinating everywhere.

These are the last few minutes before the start of the Spartathlon, one of the world's toughest ultra-marathons.  Click here for the complete account of Spartathlon - from the Economist. 


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