Bombay and Back - 5th Feb 2011

What goes down must come UP was in my mind as I flew down the Bhor (khandala) ghat at 40+ kmph with an eagle eye on the road ahead , slowing down only at sharp bends.

I knew I would have to pay back the 15 minute descent with a 1 hour climb on my way back. Climbs are fun too, as one hits the sweet spot of the gearing and the legs spin on auto pilot. The beads of perspiration make their way from the forehead and drop on the top tube and the crank as your head bows down in humility and respect to the mountain gods and each switchback makes way for the next. Never look out for how much more of the climb is left. It is a mind game. Keep telling yourself that you have just started from the base. Finally, when you start seeing the sky behind that tar that’s the top of the climb.

Fortunately on the return from Bombay, I had hit Khopoli base at 8:00 AM according to plan.

The sun was not as high and a cool breeze freshened me up. Saw spray painted graffiti “Livestrong” as I climbed on the ghat road. Apparently some cheering for the recently concluded Mumbai-Pune race cheered me as well. A few other graffiti s with rider names were also strewn across. Admiration and “thumbs-up” signs from motor cyclists ensures that you cannot take a break even if you want to ... But seriously the “Masi” climbs well, not sure whether it is the gearing, the weight, the chromoly frame or a combination of all this or the thought that this was my dream bike, I better ride fast and strong with this.

The ride after hitting the top is a nightmare because of the common expressway and the constant rumbling of vehicles zipping past you and the slow trailers and trucks groaning and inching past with their dirty fumes.

Additionally headwinds reduce your pace even for a downhill and the sun starts making its presence felt. Post Lonavala it is peace again and I hit Kamshet and Dehu Road at steady pace. Entering the city I took the middle lane which is a freeway where bicycles are barred but that is the only way to prevent the constant braking that is needed in the outside lane for the sundry traffic and pedestrians. Finally hit home at exactly 1:00 Pm (an 8 hr total time). But not before being bothered by two motor bikers with their pesky curiosity of the bike and my addiction.

Now let me rewind a day before to my journey from Pune to Bombay. I will never forget the surprised look on my Dad’s face when I entered the house with my Masi on the 4^th of Feb. I had decided to surprise my parents on the eve of their wedding anniversary by cycling to Bombay from Pune

During the usual preparations the night before when checking my puncture kit, realized that the rubber adhesive tube had dried up. Needed either some adhesive or spare tubes. Called up Boni, who had some tubes and offered to not only meet me next morning on the way but also ride along with me till Vadgaon Toll Naka about 20km away.

We parted ways at the Toll Naka after some intense riding and I proceeded alone to Talegaon.

I had carried 3 parathas, 2 oranges, some biscuits and dry fruits, a bottle of home made lemonade and 1 litre of water. Started eating the first paratha as I rode Passed Talegaon and reached Karla as the skies lit up in orange and the Sun made its presence felt. 5 kms to Lonavala and started munching on my second Paratha. Reached Ramakrishna hotel at around 7:30 AM and ordered Filter coffee to wash down the Paratha. After this I made my way to Khandala and the exhilarating downhill ride to Khopoli.

Part of the old NH4 connects to the Expressway and a small tunnel after which one is diverted back to NH4 on to Khopoli Village. The road is butter smooth and broad two-lanes with proper dividers. Reached a fork and the right said Panvel by pass and got confused. Was about to take that when a cyclist on a road bike with Aero bars called me from behind. That road connected to the Express way. Thanking him I started riding and chatting with him for a couple of minutes. He was practicing from Kharghar (New Bombay) to Khopoli base and this was his return. I was slowing him down and we parted ways as he powered his way ahead.

After sometime I again missed a turn and found myself on the Road to JNPT, but found a right turn which connected back to NH4 – Kalamboli junction. Reached Kalamboli at 9:20 and stopped to refill water at a roadside shop beside the flyover. The sun was getting hotter and the humidity of Bombay made me sweat more. Ate the last Paratha and made crossed Vashi flyover at 10:45. The next 1 hr was torturous as the paved (interlocking blocks) at Mankhurd Link road slowed me down. I had also decided to take the old Ghatkopar – LBS Road and the traffic there with the pollution made me long for the clean NH4 roads at Khopoli that I had left at dawn.

The final touch down at 12:00 noon at Kalina and the surprise on my Parent’s and niece Trusha’s face was worth the effort.

GARMIN DETAILS

To Bombay

From Bombay

... another one bites the dust.

The above words in Amit's booming voice rings in my ears as we pass a Kilometer marker. I sing out aloud with him and try to match my pace with the group. The half marathon runners on the other side of the road look at us with envy, then pride as they recognize the "5hr bus" and Amit Sheth the pacer. I am proud to be running with him. The kids on the road side cheer us and call him "Balloon Uncle" for the red balloons tied on his back. I feel as light as these balloons. We smile through the pain. Yes ... to run a marathon you need to smile through the pain as in life.

23 km into the run and we crossed the Mahim lane after Hinduja. "Salaam mallekum" one of the runners greeted the bystanders. Mumbai was running and cheering as one India I thought to myself.

A few minutes past Mahim, Amit boomed again " the marathon is about to start now". I realised why as the shadows disappeared and Bandra came in view. The sun was on us and my pace reduced.
"Turn your caps to the left" - that was to protect the face from the sun coming from the left. That was clever, Amit. I thought to myself as we turned towards Bandra Reclaimation. Sighted my nephew and family friends with bananas and a wet towel. I lost the "bus" as I stopped to eat the banana and tie the wet towel under my cap. I could now see the red balloon going farther and farther, beyond reach. I was feeling tired. The body was getting cold and hot at the same time. Poured more water over the head. The lemon juice had started tasting terrible. Pushed it down the throat. Reached for a piece of jaggery and realised I had dropped it somewhere. Had also carried a pinch of salt, opened the packet and licked some of it. And started to walk and run.

The Garmin showed I was at the 34 k mark in 4 hrs. 8 km to go in 1 hr if I were to do a sub-5. But the legs had sustained a pounding of 7 min/ km and they were not the same. Blisters on my left feet and a weird pain below the shin prevented me from running. Wanted to finish strong and therefore did not push myself. Finishing was all that mattered to be in the elite Marathoner's club.

And 69 minutes later I stepped on the timing mat at 42.175 km. The vision was blurred, was oblivious of the crowd. My mind was blank as my eyes searched for anybody familiar and saw Amit exiting the holding area. I had missed him by a measly 9 minutes. We shook hands as I thanked him for the energy during the first half of the marathon and went across to the Refreshment counter where the medals were being handed over. Found some shade and sat down looking around at elated faces smiling in pain and agony, congratulating one another, taking pics, stretching or calling their family and friends

My thoughts went back to the sacrifices my family had made for me to achieve this. Sona, who took care of my aches and helped me come out of a severe shoulder injury in double quick time with her expert help. My mother who cooks up a meal or a double omlette in a jiffy after my practise runs during the days spent at home in Bombay. My Dad who used to walk to his office, at the TOI building, a few metres from where I was sitting. He helped me stitch the bib to my running shirt because the safety pin might rub the body during the run. Then there were friends and acquaintances who had inspired me with their deeds in other fields or organized runs / trails in Pune to spread the running fever.

This first marathon was for them, they had all crossed the finish line today in Mumbai with me. And this is just the beginning ...

"You don't stop running because you get old, you get old because you stop running."
- Christopher McDougall in Born to Run.

My Garmin details