My First 5K

That day, when the elevator of the building was not in working condition, I had to climb stairs to my home at sixth floor, I almost collapsed on reaching.

Next day, my teenage son told me, “Papa, I always see you with your laptop or phone, when you are home. I want you to also go for a walk or run like other people do, it will keep you fit.”

I heard of these statements from parents to their children, to leave the gadgets and play out. But with me, it’s other way round. My son wanted me to stay physically active. And I am very proud to say that, he himself is a very active child, a good sportsperson, won many medals, trophies.

He forced me to enrol for the upcoming marathon. And I agreed. I wanted to enrol myself for 10K run, but he advised me to run for 5K only, as according to him, I hardly did any physical activity since ages.

I thought of start practising a week before the actual day, “I am trying to become more proactive, otherwise, who in the world needs practice for running. I used to run in my childhood, I never practised; it’s just a cup of cake. These new generation kids don’t run that much as we used to run, that’s why he wants me to practice a lot.”

There came the first day of my practice.

I started walking for a few minutes, then came to running, looked around at other runners, was trying to figure out their reasons for running so early in the morning. It had been just a few meters only; I felt sudden cramp in my calf muscles. Intense pain left me nowhere. That was the worst bit of my practice on very first day. I tried to rub my muscles and the pain subsided in a few minutes. But then also, I was not in a position to run again. Only the feelings were running through my mind, “Am I no more a fit, healthy person.”

Next day couldn’t be better. Afterwards, I tried to run almost 1K everyday, though it was not easy for me.

“You won’t be able to make it.” my colleagues said after listening my heartfelt story.

I was no different in opinion. “I am not an athlete. I don’t go for a walk either, thinking about marathon is like a different world to me. But this time, I would have to do it, as my son wants this from me.”

In stead of hating, I started liking running. Though I knew, I was not good at that, and it was only the pressure I was putting on myself, but then I couldn’t ignore the fact that I was enjoying it too. And all this time, I told myself that I would have to do it, no matter how hard it would be. Not only, for my son, but also for myself, it would protect me from a feeling of failure.

 I was too nervous to sleep that night. My expectations were set at zero, because I didn't believe that I could run 5K. After all, I just wasn't a runner.

That special day, my first marathon, my first 5K and all I could see many children, ladies in 5K category. The men of my age were mostly in half marathon category. Felt a little embarrassed. Why did they give different colored T shirts for different KM run. From a distance also, someone could easily figure out, that I was for a 5K run only. And deep inside, I was not sure, if I would be able to achieve that too or not.

Flag off.

My first few minutes went okay. Prior to marathon, the maximum distance was 1K only, that I could ever run. I stopped after fifteen minutes, caught a breath, and had some water. Continued running, another few minutes took all out from me, I was about to fall. But the sign of 2K was visible. And I thought of not to end it here, just took a pause, had water, sat on the side of track for two minutes and was ready to run again. That day, I had no plan of leaving before completing, though I felt like, I was going to fall and without breaks, I could not even think of standing on my feet. I took breaks often. After thirty minutes, I was still running, though pretty tired. After 4K, I couldn’t feel my legs anymore, all the feelings were disappeared. It was like the bags of cement, which I was pulling as hard as I could.

And there came the finish line. The crowd assembled at the finish. They started clapping for me.

I did it. I just did it. I finished my 5K run. I had completed my first marathon.

Holding finisher medal in his hands, my son looked happier than me. And started planning for my next marathon.