CHALLENGER STORY no idea what the hall was like while we ran, but between runs, it was a hive of activity with people zig-zagging past each other as they visited the bathrooms, the cold drink buckets, munched on food, and climbed into ice baths. I did not see anyone attempt to sleep.
Paradoxically the laps I seem to remember are those that we ran during the night. As night turned into early morning I was starting to fade and would have considered admitting my mistakes and retiring from the madness. Except that so many participants gave me such encouragement. Among these were Claudette who accompanied and encouraged me when exhaustion forced me back to a walking pace. And there was Illana, referring to me as“ Magic Mike” and always there with an encouraging phrase. And Patrick with sympathetic comparisons to his efforts the previous year. An inspirational bunch of people if there ever was one.
I did have one pyrrhic victory in that I outlasted my running light. I would have recharged my light in between laps but I was no longer running sub-thirty and did not have enough time. In the end, I borrowed a spare light from Mary.
The lap I remember best is the one that I had blocked out of my mind. Having barely completed 23 laps, I went out for what should have been my victory lap. As I walked out the Italian Club gates I started to feel the first pangs of hunger. I briefly thought of Brian’ s caution to eat early and often but wasn’ t too concerned as this was my last lap and should be a breeze, even if it were to walk the entire lap( ignoring this warning was to be my most fateful mistake).
From here on everything is a little hazy. I was falling behind before the Motherless Goat joined Penhurst. Somewhere around this time, Jason joined me and was pushing two children in a pram with another young girl walking with him. They walked with me the length of Penhurst and then up Rotherfield Avenue. I know this latter part because I remember Jason offering me support as I was extremely unsteady on my feet. I kept refusing in the firm belief that if I accepted assistance I would be disqualified. My final mistake.
This continued until we were going back up the Goat. I was continuously leaning further backwards and think I would have fallen on a few occasions if it were not for a judicious arm extended by Jason. Eventually, as I could no longer even take baby steps, I pulled my watch from my pocket( its battery had long since died and it was connected to a USB power block in my other pocket to record my last lap). Looking at this I saw that I was about 10 minutes overtime( i. e. disqualified) and succumbed to Jason’ s next offer of assistance.
He ejected his two girls from the pram, and I sat in it exactly unlike an elite spartan warrior in his chariot. Further up the hill, we met Wilna, a resident who had been giving me and others encouragement on the last few laps. Between Jason, Wilna and some other gentleman who parked at that point, I was provided with a banana and a can of Coke. By the time we reached the top of the Goat, I was starting to remember what being human felt like and emerged from my chariot to walk, sort of, once again.
We were joined by the two cyclists who had been monitoring the progress of the runners for a few hours at that stage. As we walked( me barely) across the last field I saw the line of real runners on the veranda outside the hall and received an undeserved cheer. The last obstacle was the few steps up to that veranda. I was still tilting backwards, but thankfully there were people behind me to assist.
On entering the hall, I was helped to a seat. The most remarkable 24 hours of my life and the most amazing bunch of people. With only one question remaining at the time: WHERE DO I SIGN UP FOR NEXT YEAR?
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