Ready

During COVID the only active thing I would do was run. Every weekend I would schedule a long run. It usually used to be around 20 kilometres. I must have done quite many half-marathons over the year. As everything opened up, I joined a squash association. It was at a competition that I was told by a fellow member about a relay race that weekend. The idea was to run a relay of about 174 kilometres through the Netherlands and Germany. I immediately said yes to signing up.

We had partnered with another squash association yet we didn't have enough people to fill the roughly 25 stages of the race. As I was keen on running, I asked if I could run a few more of the unfilled ones. The stages are divided into three shifts, night, morning, and afternoon. I was given one in the night, and two in the afternoon. The thing about these shifts is that only the night shift is accurately named. The morning shift is not really a morning shift. The runners in that shift wake up at approximately 2 am and take the bus to the restart point. That is to say, the morning shift actually leaves in the middle of the night after they have finally wound down after the excitement of the event and a brief partying (some even choose not to sleep). This also means that the afternoon shift leaves in the morning.

Of course, I wasn't aware of these misnomers in stages when I accepted more stages. But it didn't matter. I wanted to run. The only memories I have are how cold the night was, and being in the van the entire time. The van filled up with people from other stages while I slept in the back between the stages.

Interestingly, running was something I didn't even like when I started. I remember I used to peek at the watch every five minutes. My cut-off was either thirty minutes of running or five kilometres. Running was painful and very boring. But somewhere inside, I knew I had to do it—every day—just to remain healthy. I was gifted a Fitbit back when I started, and I saw my VO2 Max rise from below 46 to the range of an athlete.

This relay is one of my favourite memories. Not just in its uniqueness, but because it also felt like a reward. An outcome of just showing up every day for a run despite the weather. It was an artefact of being ready. I wonder how many opportunities I've said no to just because I wasn't prepared to tackle them. Or, that doesn't even cross my radar because I haven't developed that skill. It reminds me of a quote by Winston Churchill, "To each, there comes in their lifetime a special moment when they are figuratively tapped on the shoulder and offered a chance to do a very special thing, unique to them and fitted to their talents. What a tragedy if that moment finds them unprepared or unqualified for that which could have been their finest hour."

In the following years I took part in this race again. Last year, I ran all three stages without sleep for a distance of a little more than thirty kilometres. It felt different though. Yes, I had run more than my first year. And, unlike last time, without sleep. Between the two, I now had a marathon, and a triathlon under my belt. I had done sleepless events before. I had better knowledge about the nutrition required for such events. I even upgraded to a better gear. But something was different. As we came out of COVID, I reduced my running. I switched to other sports. While I had experience, my past self had one thing over me. At any point, you could have asked him to get out of the van and start running, and he would have. He was ready.