I had wished that I could end the running year on a high; it struck a very dismal note instead. Despite a divergence of goals (it shifted to 800m), it was assumed that my preparations for the marathon would suffice. After all, I was in a much better shape compared to the same period of yesteryear. I had clocked my highest weekly and monthly mileage prior to the Singapore Marathon.
So what went wrong today? Pretty much everything; I couldn’t fall asleep, I had to readjust my shoelaces because I had suspected it was compromising my gait leading to a strained hip, stomach aches from poor nutrition absorption, a runny nose, and the mother of all cramps. The thighs and calves took the brunt of the beating. After all these years, any endeavor at long distance running invokes a knee jerk reaction from my body. Injuries to the hip and sole, excruciating cramps, and a sub-par endurance. My body screams no.
Excuses aside, I guess it’s fair to say I had crashed through the fault of no one else but me. I didn’t even hit a sub-5hr. The finisher’s medal is of no significance; it felt like I didn’t complete the marathon at all. 1700km for the year and nothingness. Let me grieve if you would.