2nd Place is the 1st Loser

To say a misty fog dominated the start of the Running & Living Gurgaon Marathon would be a massive understatement. Pollution in Delhi is not great, and the sky can sometimes resemble a morning on a Scottish loch, but it isn't always water particles in the air. It is poisonous gas and smoke.  However, luckily for the runners, pollution was "lower" that day, or low enough to allow runners to brave the weather.  Cool air led to a fog that blocked out the sky.

The run started with little fanfare as about 100 runners ventured out for a 26.2 mile journey (4 loops of 10.5K) of the remote portion of the city area.  Pitch black, it was impossible to see anything since there were no lights on the road and the fog blocked the moon and starts. I was immediately near the front, and considering this was won in about 3:40 last year, figured I had a shot. For the first 10K I, literally, felt my way through the dark.  Next time you want an adventure, pump up the treadmill and wrap a towel around your head. Now run.

We tripped on curbs, dipped into unnoticed potholes, and felt branches tickle our foreheads. Stray dogs would launch from the darkness, viciously snarling and barking, until a local would shout and call them off.  Perhaps a few men would huddle over a small fire at the roadside. Seeing the color from the flames through the mist gave us some indication of the general direction we were heading.  At one point, I saw a black figure ahead of me in the mist start to emerge. Unable to get a gauge on its profile, I squinted and ran closer, just feet from it, the figure's identity became clear. An 800-lb cow was meandering down the road. I jumped to the right just in time.

At then end of the 10.5K out-and-back loop, I was in 4th place, about 3:30 off the leader, and soon overtook 3rd and 2nd.  My pace was just under 8:00 min/mile, conservative due to my lack of training and racing, and cautious as I ran for 50 minutes without being able to see anything. But by the end of the first lap, the sun - wherever it was - had come up, and a diffused light made the road visible.  A whiteout ensued, blocking the presence of buildings just off the road and ensuring no one could see more than about 100m ahead or behind.  It is a good thing the course was so repetitive. Anyone could have missed a turn at any point in these conditions.

Figuring that I was now in 2nd and the leader had gone out too hard, I worked to move up. My original plan was not to do anything anything aggressive till halfway. But somehow I blew this, going way too hard from 10-20K.  I dropped about 6 minutes from the pace, and yet I really got nowhere, still about three and a half minutes back from the leader.  I had been running alone since about the third kilometer.  I decided to go into the third loop a bit more conservative, backing off the attack, and hoping that if he blew, I would motor by.  At about 20 miles, I knew this was going to hurt.

The final 10K were rough. My legs just were not with me. I hadn't run over about 13 miles since January.  My fitness and talent can carry me about 20 miles but after that it is all about the work that was put in. I didn't have the base. Definitely slowing, I tried to manage my effort as to not blow up myself, hoping no one would pass me and I could still finish.  Shoveling cookies into my mouth, I tried to withstand the inevitable bonk. I had no GU, and there were only a few stations for aid.

Completely spent, I inched the final miles, finishing in 3:22, about 12 min back from the winner, but in 2nd place. There is no substitute for training...

It will still go down as one of the most bizarre runs, in terms of environment and scenery, that I think I have ever done.

Emerging from the mist with about 15k to go

About 5K to go

Coming off of the dirt road

The winner of the half, and 2nd (me) and first in the marathon

2nd place is the 1st loser

First Race in India

I don't usually write about half marathons. Hell, I don't usually run them. But since was my first race in India, I felt it worthy of a post.

I should have expected something from my registration. It took me 30 min to get down there, 2 min for the packet pick up, and an hour 20 back (thank you very much Uber).

Bathroom lines...what lines? Apparently you just push your way to the front and hold your ground. Sanity eventually prevailed. (Sanitation, on the other hand...)

Most people's preferred method of warm up was dancing or imitating a seizure. Except for the dance party Zomba that broke out. The music was totally inappropriate for 4:45 am and I mean that in a couple of ways. First, it was pumped to about 1 am levels in Ibiza. I hope no one lives near here. Also, content. I arrived to the repeated phase of "Who the @#$% is (indiscernible name)" blasting over the holding pen.

I experienced plenty of smells and sites on the run. Some notables:

• I saw about 50-60 men for every woman; clearly there is a gap.
• About 400 cars and motorcycles came into the running lane, most of them head on.
• One guy stopped at 16K, went down into a sprint start position, and took off. (Later that same guy ran into me as he danced around a corner. And after that he sprinted up to me then stayed with me at a pace too much for him until an ambulance wailed up and he stopped to jump in with an apparent knee "injury."
• A pack of stray dogs surrounding and harassing a group of "stray" pigs
• About 300 garbage-munching pigs
• A cow with a rack of horns so large it couldn't walk up the street

Kept it smart as I am not in much shape. Pollution was bad. Rolled pretty even 5Ks except for the final 3k where I pushed it up just a bit. 1:32 flat. I feel like I am finally getting back into running, although still a far cry from where I was.

Which post-race meal should I have first? Maybe the tin of rice? How about that white bread fish sandwich? Maybe the pack of green liquid that was open in the bag? Or the chai, ginger buttermilk?  I at the cupcake - the only thing that was sealed.

Pigs

Pigs

And more pigs

Cricket

Hospital zone. No parking. Merely a suggestion.

Ice Hockey in the Desert

At the end of two years, I'll have little to say about my time in Doha. You will notice by the lack of posts that adventure here was slim. I intended to write about marathons in the Middle East but even that passion was gone. However, there is one thing I will truly miss about my time here, and that is playing ice hockey. Yep, ice hockey...in the desert.  Given this place is more expats than locals, and a good amount of them from Europe (as engineers and pilots), and many from Canada (a college here), a large amount of people familiar with the game could play.  What started as humble beginnings in a mall (and continues in a mall, just a better rink), now is 10 teams across two divisions battling multiple times a week for the illustrious title, given out twice a year, for the Qatar International Ice Hockey League Champions.  There are even tournaments in Dubai and Abu Dhabi for groups to travel.

Qatar Team - Abu Dhabi Fall 2015

Qatar Beer Team - Dubai Spring 2016

It's adult hockey, so no hitting, but it does get pretty physical.  Each game has 1-2 referees with a few of them pretty permanent staples; other times it is just a player coming out to help ref before his game starts. A score keeper runs the clock and keeps stats, but don't expect credit on that second assist. Skill level runs from beginner (in the B/C league) through decent guys that have gotten somewhat older and slowed a bit, right on through former collegiate and junior players in the top division.  This year there were even some former semi-pros and Olympians in the mix.  The A-league makes for some fast hockey. The Qatari National Team plays in A and is coached well and continues to get better and better. Guys are drafted by team captains behind closed doors at a local pub while the rest of the league sits at the bar and watches names come up, round by round (and drinking the same) on a tv. The same bar also hosts a party during the Desert Cup (Doha Tourney) and at the end of the season, a couple of dhow boats are rented - BBQ, swimming, and lots and lots of beverages accompany awards out on the water, ranging from most valuable player to best dressed.

For two years I have been playing in the A league and enjoyed every minute of it.  Drafted very late in my first season as an unknown, I put up some numbers and got noticed, finishing 11th in scoring. We played well the first season but lost in the finals. The next season I was drafted higher and played a more complete role, setting up the puck and helping on the defensive end. I finished 12th in scoring but we won the title after finishing in 3rd out of 4 in the league regular season.

First trophy - Season 2 Spring 2015

Then I was drafted on a dream team. The top line was full of Finnish players, two of them over 6 foot 6. The other guy had played semi-pro. It was disgusting. Remember when the Russians came to the NHL and the passing was so fast you couldn't keep up? That is what these guys made our league look like. They passed 5 times before a goal, and they got one nearly every shift. I played on the 2nd line with only one job to do - shut the other guys down, which was easy to do as we were backed up by strong D-men. We won nearly every game and playing the finals was a formality as we crushed everyone. Our top line finished 1, 2, 3 in scoring. I was a distant 17th in scoring but very content in my defensive and team role.

Dream Team, Second Trophy - Fall 2015

My last season was the best. I went in the top 5. After the draft, there were mumblings that we were going to get killed based on the paper. Our team had a few unknowns and while it had 2 stars, everyone else's team looked deeper.  Our concerns were unfounded. We destroyed it, losing only 3 games (of 28) all season (I missed 2 of those 3 games). Our team passed well, back-checked, got loose pucks, and rebounded. Everyone contributed and it paid off. I played on the first line with another fast, head's up winger and our center, a tall, strong, skilled player. I finished tied for 7th in league scoring while our top two guys went 1-2 (the second guy 9 points clear of third). We won the finals 12-4.  It was hands down one of the most fun, cooperative, unselfish teams I have ever played for (in any sport).  In the end, I played 4 seasons - made the finals in all of them and won the championship in the last 3 of the 4.

Third Trophy, Best Team Ever - Spring 2016

I'll remember this time as my saving grace in Doha. I got to play some amazing hockey in my 30s with guys from all over the world and skated against, and with, Kristian Wallgren and Anze Emersic, two of the best players I have shared the ice with. I have never played as well as I did with my wingman of the final two seasons, Charles Fullerton, and got to play great games, shinny, and tourneys with my buddy Andrew Woodrow, who along with my brother is one of the guys I most enjoy seeing both on and off the ice. Thank you to the organizers of the QIIHL and its members - I will never forget this awesome group of guys and the privileged to play the greatest game in the world in the harshest of landscapes.

Thanks to the fans!

Drink from the Cup! - Rink Rats QIIHL Champions

22 and 11 - Walker (RW) and Fullerton (LW)

Rink Rats - Production Line (Justin, Kristian, Charles)