Go, take a walk!

"The wound is the place where the Light enters you."

                                                                               - Rumi

I have a number of excuses for deserting this blog for quite some time. Allow me to offer none, for now. I will come back to those in a later post.

Couple of weeks ago, for a change, instead of running I had ‘gone to walk’. It was a rather long walk, admittedly longer than what I thought I could endure. A runner friend of mine called one day and invited me to join the team of four walking 100 KM at Oxfam Walkathon. Rules are pretty simple – 100KM. Team of Four. 48 hours (max time to finish). With no plans for the R-day weekend, I found myself accepting the invite. Truth be told, I reckoned this would be no big deal for someone like me who runs regularly.

We flagged off from the starting point Friday morning. By the time we finished Saturday noon, Bangalore Sun had baked me completely, and the trail and roads through these 100 KM had opened up my eyes to some lessons. Here are those.

Walking & Running = Chalk & Cheese

Go take a walk, all the runners. There were a number of patches in the 100KM route where I felt I would rather run than walk. Even as late as KM 90 I ran for about 800 meters and would have clocked more if it wasn’t for the neighborhood dog who decided to make a dash for us. In particular, I found running downhill easier than walking downhill. I guess the gliding action while running helps release the pressure from the front foot faster than it does while walking and thus reducing the probability of blisters. So next time you are going through a hell like this, run rather than walk.

Pain, too, has a limit

The first sign of pain popped up between 40-45KM. Having walked for over 6-7 hours by then and Sun beating down heavily, I had begun to get a burning sensation in my feet. At every checkpoint thereafter I’d put my feet up to let them cool off. By KM 56, blisters had made grand appearance around the ankles and on the fingers. I carried on nevertheless.

Somewhere between KM 85 and 90 I hypothesized that the pain at that time seemed no different than it was at KM 70. By KM 95, the mind and body had unequivocally accepted the hypothesis. Having accepted that pain had reached its outer limit, my last 5 KM, I reckon, were probably fastest on the route. So, contrary to the popular belief, the last mile wasn’t as difficult as patches between KM 48 and 56. That was where I thought I have had enough.

Keep walking

This might sound like a commercial for Johny Walker. Finding the extreme pain point is crucial for endurance and in a walkathon the only way to find one is to keep walking. Looking back, my mind and body were vulnerable around 50-56KM when I felt it was easier to sign-off for the day and hop on the support vehicle for a chilled beer. However I was also aware that it was getting dark and a tad cooler, and a night halt was expected soon. If I carried on for another 8 KM to the next checkpoint I knew I could get a decent rest and a shot at making it all the way through.

Group dynamics work

While running, I like the quietness - the sort of demilitarized space where you can speak to your inner-self. However, I am not sure if I could bear the same quietness while walking. A number of “teams” at Oxfam Walkathon melted away during the journey, leaving quite a few participants to walk solo for the last 40+ KM. I was fortunate to have a team that pushed and pulled one another. Otherwise, going solo through a long journey like this could be very taxing and at the least no fun at all. I am going to try running in a group to see I can exceed my PB on time or distance, or both.