Kaveri Trail Half Marathon - Nov 18, 2007 - A Report

It was close to 6:00 on Sunday morning when I drove out of the apartment complex I live in on Bannerghatta Road in Bangalore. The pre-dawn glow was already on the eastern sky. I had been told to budget 2.5 hours for the drive from Bangalore to Srirangapatna - a distance of around 130 km - where the Kaveri Trail Half Marathon was to start at 9:00 AM. I learnt about the run thanks to a chance meeting with a seasoned Hasher in Cubbon Park during the week. I used to run with the Bangalore Hash regularly, until work schedules, travel and my photography projects made getting out for weekends runs difficult. Abnash, the Hasher I ran into, talked me into running the half marathon distance with his descriptions of the trail. The race was being organized by the Bangalore Hash in conjunction with Runners For Life (RFL), another running group with whom I had run a couple of times in Bangalore. I was well aware that both groups put up fine runs, and their coming together would probably result in a special run. I was hooked; I decided that I would run the Kaveri Trail half that weekend.

Getting onto Mysore road, I was encouraged to see light traffic on the road. I was able to do 90 kmph in some stretches, which meant that I was doing good on time. At just past 8:00 AM, I pulled into the parking lot of the Fort View Resort in Srirangapatna, from where I was told we would be bussed to the starting line. A quick toilet break later, I was on the bus with a load of enthusiastic runners, headed towards the starting point.

After registering at the starting point, I waited with a couple of dozen runners for the 9:00 AM start time. We were told that a bus bringing runners from Bangalore was late, possibly delaying the start time. It was starting to get warmer while we were waited. Soon the front runners of the Full Marathon came into view. The full marathon course was the same as the half marathon course, except that the full marathoners ran the course twice. The course itself was an out-and-back, measuring 10.5 km one way. The full marathoners had started their run at 7:30 AM, and were heading into what was for them the halfway point. They looked in superb shape. It was inspiring to see these guys looking strong and clearly ready to tear into the second half of their run.

We finally started our run at around 9:40 AM. It was fairly warm now, so I decided to take it easy in the first half, and pace the second half depending on how strong I was feeling at the halfway point. We were running on a levy, with a canal running along one side. On the other side there were fields, some growing sugarcane. Running on the levy, I was reminded of the Led Zeppelin classic “When The Levee Breaks”. The song kept playing in my head, and I fell into something of a rhythm to Bonzo’s hypnotic drumming. The trail of packed earth made running easier on the knees. There was some tree cover, but not nearly enough. Although warm, it was still a beautiful day to be outdoors. The air was clean and fresh, unlike anything in Bangalore. I was reminded of the trails in the Coyote Creek Regional Park in Fremont, California, where I used to head out for my long runs when training for a marathon. I reached the marked 3 km point in 18 minutes, which meant that I was running slightly faster than I intended, so I slowed the pace a little. The aid station at the 5.5 km mark was well stocked. After a short break, it was back on the trail again. A little further on, I tripped on a rock and took a tumble. A couple of runners in front of me ran back to help me, but other than a few scratches I was fine. The heat of the day was starting to tell on me and some other runners as well. The next aid station was just short of the 10 km mark. At this point, the trail got a little tricky. First we had to go ahead a half a kilometer on the same trail then make a U-turn back towards the aid station. This was followed by a brief detour towards a temple towards the right, and back to the aid station after making a U-turn just ahead of the temple. Then we had to repeat the first loop one more time, before getting back to the aid station, and returning in the direction we came. At the end of the loops, my stopwatch indicated 1:15. I figured that a 2:30 finish would be respectable, given the conditions.

I downed a couple of glasses of water and poured some water on my head, neck and shoulders. It would be 5 km before the next aid station and it was now uncomfortably hot, so I would need all the help I could get to stay cool. I felt strong enough to pick up the pace a bit. I was now passing other half-marathoners consistently, although my pace could hardly be described as frenetic. Reaching the first aid station again (now 5.5 km from the finish) was a great relief. Pouring some more water on myself, I hit the trail again, counting down the km markers to the finish, which seemed to get agonizingly further apart as I neared the end. By the time I reached the mark telling me that I was 1 km from the finish line I was totally spent. The last kilometer was probably the most difficult one I have run – it seemed interminably long. Other than my knees which were hurting now from the strain of placing every step, I could feel the onset of cramps in my leg muscles. After what seemed like an hour, I finally saw the finish line, and crossed it in 2:19:04. Not my fastest half (my PR for a half is 1:58:17), but I was happy to have endured what I thought was a challenging run.

Back at the Fort View Resort, I had a quick lunch and a warm beer (not by choice, mind you), following which it was time to head the 130 km back to Bangalore. I didn’t really mind the drive, as I had just participated in a terrific experience. The Bangalore Hash and RFL had collaborated to put up a brilliant run. The trail was fantastic, and the standard of organizing and attention to detail were world class. This was truly a run by runners, for runners. Thank you BH3 and RFL!

Letter from Goa - The Baga South Run

The first time I did the "Baga South" run in Goa was on a Saturday afternoon in March 2006. Having slammed more than a few beers the previous night over live music at the Cavala Beach Resort on Baga Beach, I woke up on Saturday morning with a hangover from hell. A dose of Tylenol helped somewhat, but a stroll on Baga Beach convinced me that what I really needed in order to feel better was a nice long run.

A little while later, I was at the north end of Baga Beach, right by a creek that flows into the sea. The stretch of beach looked inviting, and off I went barefoot, headed southwards. This was my first barefoot run, and it was a lovely feeling, running on the soft sands. It was a warm afternoon, but the sea breeze coming in kept me cool. Within a mile or so from the north end of Baga Beach, I ran into vast crowds at Calangute Beach – the scene reminding me of Juhu Beach in the evenings (I have fond memories of Juhu Beach – many years ago I used to meet the girl I was madly in love with for dinner at a restaurant right on Juhu Beach – happily she is now my wife). Further south the crowds thinned, and I settled into something of a rhythm, although the varying textures of the sand meant that keeping the same pace for more than a couple of minutes was difficult. About 45 minutes into the run, I ran past the “River Princess”, a ship that had run aground – I didn’t know it at the time, and remember wondering how such a big boat could be anchored so close to shore. At roughly the 55-minute mark I saw that the beach dead-ended in a stone wall. I made a U-turn a little short of the wall, running north now towards Baga Beach.

When I finally reached the north end of Baga, I was quite spent. Crawling into a shack, I ordered two bottles of Limca, which I dispatched speedily. I asked the waiter the distance to the other end of the beach, and he shrugged his shoulders and said something like, “I don’t know, but it must be 4-5 kilometers.” I could scarcely believe it, since I had been running for just short of 2 hours, and although it had been a plod through the beach, my own reckoning was that I had run at least 8 miles. The waiter, clearly unimpressed with my estimate, pooh-poohed it and repeated quite emphatically that the distance couldn’t be more than 5 kilometers. Jesus – was I disappointed! My reaction must have been apparent, because it elicited a chuckle from a guy at the next table. He offered to buy me a drink, which I had to decline, because I couldn’t bear the thought of more alcohol after the previous night’s binge drinking. I told him that he could pay for my Limcas, but it was now his turn to refuse, on the grounds that a Limca didn’t qualify as a legitimate drink in his book. My kind of guy! We struck up a brief conversation over a drink – he nursing a Gimlet, and me on my third Limca, during which I found out that he was an Englishman who had settled in Goa some years ago. He ran a business helping people invest in property there. He lived on an island on the Mandovi River, and had come to spend the day at Baga Beach with his lovely family. After thanking him for his offer to buy me a drink, I left for the hotel exhausted and a little disappointed that all I could log for that afternoon’s run was 10 kilometers. I was sure that the course was longer, but to prove it I would have to repeat the run on another trip with my GPS watch.

Well, my turn came a little less than a year later in February 2007, when I spent three days in North Goa. Equipped with a Garmin Forerunner GPS watch, I eagerly reached the north end of Baga Beach at 9:00 AM on a lovely Saturday morning. With the vast, open skies over Baga Beach, the Forerunner had no trouble acquiring satellite lock, unlike in Bangalore where it usually has a devil of a time finding the orbiting GPS satellites through tree cover and high-rises. The run itself was enormous fun, with the cool sea breeze compensating for the warmth of the day and no hangover to deal with. As expected I ran into the teeming crowds at Calangute Beach a little over a mile into the run, where I had to weave and dodge my way through masses of sunbathers, beach soccer, beach cricket and beach volleyball enthusiasts, apart from the occasional Yamaha Waverunner water jet skis that came hurtling onto the beach at near supersonic speeds with their grinning occupants clearly enjoying the high speed thrills. Even on quieter stretches the running was not always easy; at some places the sand was firm, so that I could pick up the pace a bit, while on other stretches, my feet sank into the soft, wet sand, slowing me down to a crawl. Still, running barefoot on a beach with the waves lapping at your heels beats running in the city every time. A little further south from the marooned “River Princess”, the Forerunner showed that I had already crossed the 4-mile mark, with a half mile of beach still to go. At the stone wall at the end of the beach, my Forerunner read 4.60 miles. Fantastic – so I’d been right after all in my reckoning a year ago! Touching the stone wall, I headed back towards Baga Beach, finishing the entire run in 1:49:52, before collapsing onto an inviting chair at the Shining Star shack on Baga Beach. The Forerunner had logged 9.18 miles. Treating myself to twin Limcas again, I celebrated some more with a Daiquiri, a bowl of fresh watermelon, an Aloo Paratha, a couple of cans of Diet Coke and a hot cup of tea to round out a motley, but hugely satisfying breakfast.

The day was gorgeous. The beach looked enchantingly beautiful. Stretched on a beach chair with a full belly, a perfect run behind me, and a lazy day stretching ahead of me, there was nothing more I could ask for. Except another Daiquiri, that is.