Self-Transcendence 3100-Mile Race 2004

Just like the memoir of the previous year, there are no pictures on this page. Just a bunch of text. But you can see pictures, and even video, of the 2004 race on the Sri Chinmoy Races website.

So, the 2004 race is over. Well, of course, you might say. Even the fact that it is over has become old news. But I have to start somewhere. So here are a few random reminiscences from the race.

When we were running those 3100 miles, the race was our whole world. The fact that the mighty metropolis of New York surrounded us on all sides became irrelevant. All that mattered was that half mile of concrete that took us back right to the point from which we had started. 

How to order all those experiences from the journey in written form? Well, the only way is to start at the beginning. Then proceed to the end, via the middle. You can see where this is going, can't you? Once again, gentle reader, I must beg your indulgence, as I plunge once again into the Self-Transcendence 3100-Mile Race loka, to bring you what I can only call:

MY 3100-MILE RACE-EXPERIENCE 2004 PART 1!!!!!!!!!!!!

Let's start with the training. After my first 3100-Mile Race-Experience,  I vowed to do LOTS and LOTS of training for the next one. As so often happens in life, things didn't quite work out the way that I had planned. When April rolled around, I could see the start line looming, and I at last started training in earnest. Sunday was, for me, like many of you, my long run day. I started making it a long, long run, between 35 and 50 km. I had a nice course, around Lake Ginninderra, which provided a reasonable flat, paved 7.1 kilometre loop. I ran there every Sunday. I never did any of the 90 - 100 km runs that I had intended to do, like the great 700 mile hero Tsvetan has been known to do in his training. I was doing about 100 km a week, on a good week. One reason, or excuse, that I wasn't doing more is the fact that my first 3100-Mile Race-Experience had left me a significantly slower runner. And I hadn't been all that fast to begin with. No longer was I running 5-minute kms. My best pace was more like 6-minute kms, and on a long run, I would get slower and slower as the day wore on. Meanwhile, Oleg and Kauranga were doing close to 200 km a week in their training. At my pace, I just didn't have the time for all that mileage ("kilometreage" just doesn't sound the same, does it?). And, April was my only really decent month of running. I did one 50 km run at the start of May; after that, I would feel pain in my right ankle whenever I ran further than 30 km. Whenever the pain started, I would call it quits and go home. I knew there was nothing to be gained from running with that kind of pain to reach some arbitrary goal in training. I started doing some exercises to strengthen the ankle, as well as praying. If I wanted to do better in the race than last year, I certainly didn't need this kind of problem.  Would it clear up before the race? Read on to find out...

I arrived in New York on 6 June, a week before the race. From JFK airport, I took the shiny new Airtrain to the terminal in Jamaica. It was nearly midnight. I left the shiny new Airtrain building, and dragged my heavy bags down into the filthy subway station. At last, I thought- the real New York! Though I was now only about a mile from my destination, the transportation became less convenient. I caught the E train towards Manhattan, and got out at a station where, I soon discovered, the F train did not stop. As I waited for the next E train, standing on a hot, deserted platform, I thought of the not insignificant amount of money in my suitcase, and wondered if I should have caught a taxi instead. However, the muggers failed to materialize, and I safely caught the train to the next stop. Where I waited for the E train, which took me to Parson’s Boulevard. Now all I had to do was drag my bags uphill for half a mile to where I was staying.

I had a fairly leisurely time over the next week, mostly occupied with gathering supplies and equipment for the race. I visited at least a dozen sports stores in search of shoes, and snapped up a few bargains. I bought five new pairs. Remembering last year, I made sure that my shoes were nice and big. I found a pair of Mizuno Waves that were size 14; a little too roomy, I must admit, but at only $15 I couldn’t not buy them. I figured that in a few weeks they would nearly fit my expanding feet. My other shoes were asics 2090s and 2080s, and a pair of New Balance something-or-others. I visited my friends at Pole-Vision-Life-Strength health foods, and bought protein powder, vitamins, flax oil, aloe vera water, and cashew butter.

On Saturday, the day before the race, I went to Manhattan, in search of shoes for the last time. I took a bike, and cycled between all the different stores. I rode down one side street and nearly ran into a Hare Krishna parade; they were pulling giant brightly-painted carts down the street. A group seated on the back of a truck was playing devotional music, robustly amplified through imposing-looking speaker cabinets. In New York, you never know what you are going to see next. When I had finished shopping, and was about to descend into the subway (yes, you are allowed to take your bike onto the train, if you didn’t know), I took a good look around at Broadway on a fine summer’s day (or was it late spring?), and thought, it’s going to be a while before I can look at this scene again. It’s going to be a while before I can just spend the day cruising around, just looking at shops. Because when the sun rose tomorrow, I would once again plunge into the all-consuming world of the 3100-mile race, and life would be radically different.

At 5pm we had a meeting about the race. All the runners, with the exception of Abichal, were there. I met Vladimir and Madhupran for the first time. Rupantar, the race director arrived, bearing two huge steaming pizzas. And then we discussed the race. The cushy life we had last year, ordering whatever we wanted from a restaurant menu, was over. With 12 runners, that was no longer viable. We were going to have a set menu. Abhinata

told us all about the dishes he had decided on, and we agreed that it all sounded pretty good. Dinner would be something different every night of the week. We were introduced to our cooks, who would be instrumental to our survival over the coming weeks.

Everyone was excited, and perhaps a little apprehensive. No-one quite knew what tomorrow would bring, but one thing was for sure: the start was at 6am. Nothing in the world was going to change that fact.

MY 3100-MILE RACE-EXPERIENCE 2004 PART 2

I awoke around 5 am on the first day of the race. I dressed, shouldered my bag which I had packed the night before, and walked down to the start. It was an overcast morning, not too cool and not too warm. Three vans were parked by the start. In front of each were two trestle tables, with two folding chairs in front of each table. Each runner was assigned a place at a table. At each place was a plastic box with a sliding drawer in it, for keeping crucial running supplies; supplements, moleskin, music etc. I had brought a second box with me for storing stuff (one is never enough.) Arpan brought a fancy 4-drawer tower plastic box with him for his stuff. I was almost jealous. Underneath the table, each runner had another kind of plastic box that looked vaguely military: a large dark green rectangular tub with a hinged lid at the top. Perfect for keeping shoes in. Lots of them. The runners all greeted each other, everyone excited to find themselves at the start of the 3100 mile race. More and more people were arriving to witness the momentous occasion. Just before 6am, Sri Chinmoy arrived, dressed in track pants, a yellow running jacket, and New Balance sneakers. He announced that he would like a group photo with the runners, and sat on a folding chair. We assembled behind him. Then he stood, quite close to us, and meditated on each of us in turn. From left to right, standing in an arc, we were: Arpan DeAngelo, Kauranga Peel, Ashprihanal Aalto, Oleg Lebedyev, Smarana Puntigam, myself, Vladimir Glazkov, Tusheet Warum, Madhupran Schwerk, Abichal Watkins, Virendra Gauthier, and Suprabha Beckjord. Meditation over, the Moment of Truth had arrived. Sahishnu called us to the start line. After a moment’s silence, he announced: “Runners, take your mark…..Go!” and we were off.

It felt surreal. Were we really commencing this unimaginably long journey, right here, right now? Were we really running down 84th Rd and turning right into 168th Pl for the first time this race? Were the laps really this long last year? I tried to calm my mind and just get into some kind of flow. I had countless doubts, but I also had hopes and dreams. For now, I just wanted to get the first marathon (of 118.32) under my belt. 48 laps. Let’s do it.

Vladimir was wearing a singlet with a picture of the Australian state of Queensland on it, emblazoned with the title “Ultra Runner’s Club.” He had got it as a gift from the late Brian Smith, a great Australian runner. I got a lot of joy from the fact that this Russian runner was wearing a map of the state where I had spent the majority of my 31 years!

My (hopeful) goal for the first day was 70 miles. Surely I could do it. I was fresh. I had done it before. But by the time evening arrived, I was feeling a bit tuckered out (an Australian expression that means “quite exhausted.”) By the time I finished for the day, close to midnight, I had only managed 65 miles. Virendra had the same. Everyone else was ahead of us. Oh well. Ashprihanal had a cracking start with 90 miles. Madhupran was just behind him with 86 miles. The race was on.

Monday morning. Day 2. Up at the crack of dawn, and off in Sanatan’s van, full of sleepy runners, to the start. I managed 50 miles for the day- the official “minimum” mileage. And nearly 2 miles less than my second day last year. Hmmm. What will happen tomorrow?

Day 3. Not a good day. My feet hurt. I hadn’t been sleeping well. I took a break around 6pm that went on for too long, because my feet didn’t want to touch the ground anymore. I couldn’t get going again. I called it quits around 8 pm and got an early night.

Day 4. I was determined to put to rest the uncertainty that the previous day had aroused in me. I was behind my comparable total for the previous year and determined to strike back and make an improvement. I made 62 miles, which was a fantastic boost to my confidence. 

Looking back at day 5, I see that I managed 105 laps- 57.6 miles. I remember running like a crazy man for the last hour- my pace was more than 9, perhaps 10 laps an hour. The usual pace is between 6 and 7. I knew that I would pay for it the next day, but it felt good at the time. So, next day, I only did 80 laps. But at least I was 5 miles ahead of the equivalent total mileage in last year’s race.

Sanatan had provided a device called the “Body Bridge”. It had a tubular metal frame, and looked like an upside-down “U”. It had a  padded bench to lie on, and two handles jutting out of the top to grasp for support. You could lean right back, grip the handles, and raise your legs in the air, perpendicular to the ground. Whilst doing this you could be entertained by the sight of everyone running by, upside-down. This exercise provided relief for aching feet and leg muscles. Vladimir liked this device a lot. Later in the race, as my body adapted, I didn’t feel the need for the Body Bridge so much. But in the first couple of weeks, it was greatly appreciated.

Then there was the exercise Srotaswini encouraged us to do: hanging by your hands from some scaffolding that covered part of the sidewalk by the school. There was a bar about 7 feet off the ground that was good for this. This was a good way to counteract the effects of all that cumulative gravity. Eventually, workmen came to remove the scaffolding, which was a bit of a shock, as it had been a part of the landscape for 3 years or so. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Most mornings, Sri Chinmoy would drive by the course, at around 8.15 am. He would stop by each of the runners and give us a small prasad (blessed food) item; a cookie, or a candy bar, or fruit, or something else. He would give us each a smile as he handed us prasad, before driving off. The runners all looked forward to these morning visits. For me it was a daily struggle to try and be in a “good consciousness” when I took prasad, as aside from Sri Chinmoy’s visits, the morning was not my favourite time of day!

Every Saturday the Self-Transcendence 2-Mile Race would happen across the street, around Jamaica High. The Theory of Relativity, as experienced in the 3100-Mile Race, meant that the 2-Mile Race seemed to be over very quickly. By the time I had completed two laps, a mere drop in the daily bucket, the Two-Mile Race had started and finished. Sri Chinmoy would often walk along 84th Ave at a brisk pace, next to the runners. He had a 400m course marked out. Then after the race he would compose a race prayer, or song, which all the 2-mile runners would learn. Usually I didn’t learn it, unless someone copied it down for me; we 3100-Mile runners just kept on running.

The weekend brought lots of local sports enthusiasts to the playing fields. Jamaica High would feature soccer matches all day, played mostly by Hispanics in smart uniforms. In the afternoon, minor-league baseball teams would descend on the Joe Austin field right by our course. We would have to run around the players and spectators as they assembled on the sidewalk. Often a couple of players would be warming up, pitching to each other. The balls would whistle right past our heads. Thankfully they never missed their target- the other player’s baseball mitt. Thomas Edison High, meanwhile, would become home to scores of amateur volleyball players, who would string up nets in the carpark wherever the opportunity presented itself. 

After day 10, I started regularly running more than 100 laps per day. This was an encouraging development. I think Ashprihanal was towing us all along in his wake, as he regularly clocked up more than 70 miles a day, and looked to be safely in first place. He was chasing his goal of 1300 miles in under 18 days, which he hadn’t accomplished in the previous year’s 1300-Mile race. He reached 1000 miles on day 14. Vladimir was second at this stage, Madhupran third. As we know, a lot of things can change in this kind of race.

MY 3100-MILE RACE-EXPERIENCE 2004 part 3

On day 15 of the race, I woke up, got dressed, waited for Sanatan to pick me up, went to the race, and started running at 6 am. I cranked out 107 laps, or 58.7 miles; rather thrilling after the previous day's 80 laps. But not as good as day 13's 111 laps. I wish I could be consistent. Consistently good, that is. Ashprihanal took the day's honours with an unbelievable 136 laps. That's 74.6 miles. He was safely in the lead at this stage. Ashprihanal has a ritual which he observes when running by the Grand Central Parkway. There are two fire hydrants along that stretch, with loose fittings on top which can rotate freely. When running clockwise around the course, he reaches out and turns the fittlngs anti-clockwise. When running anti-clockwise, he turns them clockwise. As a sort of counter-balance.

Looking back now, I can't really remember the third week of the race as a distinct entity. That's what happens when all you do is run around the same block. Looking at my stats, I see that I cracked 1000 miles on day 19. Ashprihanal had reached 1300 the day before. When you get into 4 figures, you know that you're finally getting somewhere.

Did I explain already how tough mornings are? Well, let me tell you (again) that mornings can be tough in this race. Those first few hours pass so slowly; it takes forever to reach midday. The first six hours seem to take half the day's effort, and half the day's time, even though there's still another 12 hours left to go...

Unfortunately, my memoirs of the race end here, but rest assured, I did finish! My time was 54 days, 15 hours, 39 minutes, and 14 seconds. I finished in 7th place.