2 weeks ago, Dada registered Varun and me (and himself, of
course) for the 2015 Republic Ride. He was a little hesitant to register me.
100 kilometers. That was a LOT to cycle. And it wasn't like I was a superwoman.
Varun was a superman, no doubt, but me? I waved off his doubts and told him
with confidence in my air to go ahead and enroll me.
Zooming forward to 2 days ago. 1 day before the ride. No
practice. No preparation. Nothing. And here I was, ready to do 100 kilometers
of cycling. ‘Okay’, I said to myself. ‘How difficult can it really be? I did
the 67K Freedom Ride in August. This is just 30 odd kilometers more.’ Little
did I realise just how difficult 30 more kilometers could be.
We got all the necessities ready for the next day: water
bottles, a little cake, fresh orange juice, cycling gear like gloves, helmet,
goggles etc. We pinned up our bibs to our shirts to save time the next morning.
And then straight to bed by 8:30pm.
Dada gave us a shake at 4:15am. ‘Oh god’, I thought.
‘Another early start’. We somehow got out of bed, groggily went to the
washroom, changed into our cycling clothes, and came down (still groggy).
5:25am, and we’re ready at the door. Mama took a picture of
us with our sleepy eyes and sleepy smiles, for a ‘before the ride’ shot. And
then, out of the door. We’d already put our cycles on the cycle rack the day
before, so all we had to do was get into the car and drive.
By 6:00am we were all lined up at the start line. They flagged us off at 6:20am, when there was 100 meters of visibility ahead (I believe the traffic police were quite strict on that point). And we started!
Okay, I don't know what much to say of the beginning. It was cold when we began, and my pull on sleeves kept slipping off. 7:15am, and it started to get warmer. The weather was really good from this point on, to 10:00am. The sun provided the warmth, the clouds provided the shade, and the wind provided that slight coolness that so needed.
The support was very well organised. Every 10km, there was water, Electral (a powder you mix in water to get essential salts), bananas and energy bars. They also gave these delicious spiced peanuts. Since my cycling shirt had 3 very convenient pockets at my lower back, I slipped the peanut packet into one of them. Every time I felt like it, I'd just reach out for a peanut and pop one into my mouth. It was actually kind of fun!! The energy bars were YUM!! They were some sort of crispy and sugary crispies wrapped in chocolate, and they were really good!!
At 8:30, we reached the breakfast point at Taramati Baradari. We had an excellent breakfast. The sandwiches, muffins, idlis and vadas were all really good. With our stomachs full, we started again. Dada stayed behind for 5 minutes after I left, to organise something, so I was on my own for 15 minutes.
This guy caught up with me towards the end of the Taramati road. 'So, are you doing the entire 100K Ride, or you part of the relay event?' he asked me. I replied in affirmative to the former. 'Wow!' he said. 'So which company do you work in?' I smiled with incredulity; I told him I was in school, in 10th grade. 'Whooooooo', he went. Not everyone expects to see a 16 year old doing a 100K, right? I have to admit, I felt a little smug.
Dada caught up with me after a while, and we cycled on together. I was all okay up till the 50K mark, at Himayat Sagar. I was cycling just fine, at a good pace, with no aches and pains, and most importantly, with mental tranquility.
We reached the Shankarpally road at 10:15am. We had checked the map the previous day, and this road was supposed to be 18 kilometers one way. So we prepared ourselves for 36 kilometers of cycling, before heading back to the stadium.
It was hot now. The glaring sun was bearing down on our backs. The first part of the road had hardly any tree cover, and so the heat was multiplied greatly. 10 minutes down the road, and Dada got a call from Aatmesh. Varun had got a punctured tire, some 10 kilometers down the Shankarpally road. Dada had a few handy tools in case of this kind of a situation, so he cycled on fast to catch Varun.
I cycle on alone. At first, I enjoyed the feeling of riding alone. I started singing to myself and waving my head from side to side, like I was in a 70s Bollywood movie (The crowd of cyclists had thinned out by now, and I hoped no one was watching!).
After 15 kilometers of cycling in this fashion, I saw Dada sitting on the side of the road, with wheels, tools and other cycle-repair stuff strewn about him. It seemed like the puncture was worst than imagined. Dada said he'd sent Varun off on his own cycle, and just then we saw Varun cycling happily, coming towards us from the opposite side. He smiled at us, said the cycle was fine, and went on. Dada asked me to carry on, and said he'd catch up with me. The check-point was 3 kilometers ahead, and feeling cheered up by that idea, I cycled a little faster.
I met Govind Uncle at the Shankarpally check-point. He seemed to be doing okay. I drank a little water and Electral, took a U-Turn, and began the long way back. It was already 11:30, and I wondered how long it would take me to get to the end of the road.
3 kilometers down, and Dada was still there, trying to repair the cycle. He told me to go on, and that he'd figure out something. The thing was Dada had a call at 1:00pm, and he needed to be home by then. Knowing him, he would figure out something.
I rode on. An auto caught up with me at 12:00pm. Dada was in it, with the cycle. So no, he hadn't been able to fix it, but at least he had means of getting home. I asked him how much more. 20 kilometers, he said. I exclaimed meekly. I didn't have energy left to complain too strongly. He patted me on the back, told me to keep riding, and said he knew I'd do it well. I gave him a tired half-smile, and then he went on. My lifted spirits took a slight dip again.
Anyways, that's when the sheer exhaustion set in. The tiredness. The fatigue. If you'd been riding for 75 kilometers, in Indian heat, you'd know what I was talking about. And then, the inevitable question arises: Why am I even doing this? One Hundred Kilometers. I can stay perfectly fit riding 50K. But for some reason, you go on riding. Your back pains, your neck burns with the sun's spiteful glare, your arms are stiff, you wrists and palms tingling with the vibrations of the bike, your glutes are numb with the hardness of the cycle seat, and your calves are on fire. Yet, you keep going. Just a little more, you tell yourself. Stretch yourself a little.
The road never seems to end. With hope, you look for what's awaiting at every new turn, but with dejected spirits, you realize the road just goes on. For an hour and a half, I rode like this, the same thoughts circling my mind, and trying a encourage myself little by little. And then I saw the hill. The hill we had to climb, the hill that would take us home. I'd ridden that hill before. I knew just how killing it was. But the sight of it was inviting because I knew the monotony was over. The physically toughest part was yet to come, but that which was mentally taxing was now the past.
I met Govind Uncle again at the bottom of the hill, just before we started climbing. We sat together for a bite, exchanged a few words, and got back up, determined, now that we were so close. He planned to walk up the hill, like 90% of the riders do. I didn't. I had to ride up. That, I was determined to do.
I started up the hill. I was on my lowest gear. Every round of the pedal took me an inch forward. Every part of me was burning. But there's something that kept me going, something that made me stretch my limits, something that didn't let me stop. I think that something is different for everybody. For my part, I knew I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I stopped. I couldn't forgive myself if I let my foot touched the ground. I would have felt as though I accomplished nothing if I didn't keep going. And so I did. I stayed on my bike, my feet on the pedals throughout. And I smiled to myself at the top of the hill. I'd accomplished what I wanted. I could live with myself.
I zoomed down the hill, that smile never leaving my face, enjoying the moment. Enjoying the breeze batting against my face. Enjoying, for a change, not things creeping by, but things whipping past me.
Just 7K to go. That's all I had left, to complete my first 100K. 15 minutes, and I came to that last hill.
It takes us 5 minutes to drive up that road. The thought scared me. How long to ride? Let me answer that question without too much delay. 30 minutes. 30 minutes of tireless uphill riding. The steepness was gradual, but the road was long. Looking back, however, this road seems to be a blur. I just remember riding on and on. I just remember telling myself I couldn't let my feet touch the ground. I got to the top successfully.
My last kilometer. Just a little more. My eyes already had a spark in them. I was almost done. I turned towards the finish line, crossed in, and stepped off my bike. 'Ahhhhhhh'... I hung my head, sighed, and looked up again. Mama and Varun were there. 'How was it?' Mama asked. All I could say was 'Good'. For now, I had to sit down. I was aching, and I just needed a seat. I sat down, sighed again, and smiled. I'd achieved this they way I wanted: strongly and with a self satisfaction beyond description.
All I've got to say now is this: I'm coming back, and I'm doing this again. And like my father said, 'I've felt the pain, and gone back for more'.
