This time, without being under duress of any sort, I signed myself back up for the same run.
I had to admit that my first thoughts upon reaching the grounds of the Padang at 4am was "What have I got myself into?" I had not trained for this run, and the last time I ran, I barely managed 4km. This time though, it was 21km. The only way I could psych myself up for the run was to avoid thinking about it as much as possible. Not that it was very difficult. The whole area was a hive of activity, with people from all walks of life milling about waiting for the race to start. There were the army boys, the endurance runners, the veterans, and to my pleasant surprise, plenty of attractive young girls with toned calves. There was also the odd human bowling ball, which intrigued me because I was wondering if they were going to roll themselves along for 21km.
The start itself was a bit of a fluke. I was walking towards the start point, and when I reached there I realised that the race for the "competitive" section had started at least 30 minutes ago. I squeezed out of the huge block of people from the "non competitive" section waiting for their own flagoff, and took off. And that was it. The beginning of my 21km journey.
My run took me onto the Sheares bridge, where I ran till the Fort Road exit and cut into East Coast Park. While running on the bridge at the area overlooking Suntec City, I felt a flicking of water into my face. Thinking it was drizzling, I looked up and opened my palms facing the sky, like what people do when they want to check if its raining. There wasn't any rain. I looked in front, and I saw a ponytail swishing left and right. Suddenly I realised where the water was coming from. I think I died. I was like ARGHHHH its human sweat! I will never forget that for the rest of my life.
Along the section of the expressway leading into Fort Road, I noticed many runners, and only male ones, running into the bushes at the side to relieve themselves. I have to admit it was quite shocking to see full grown men relieve themselves in public view. I mean, the last time I did that was when I was 5 years old, and these men are doing it 10 in a row along the forest. There was even a lane at the side of the road for these guys. It was like if you wanted to pee, you cut into the "pit stop" lane and proceeded into the pit stop, only that this pit stop has no mechanics to service you. Okay, that is a good thing.
Running in East Coast Park was difficult, because the crowd effectively packed the running road, making anything more than a slow jog impossible. I stopped at every water point to drink 100 Plus, and when it was done I tossed my paper cup with wild abandon as far as I could. They provided bananas as well, and when I was done with those, I similarly tossed the skin at the roadside. It was probably the only time that littering was legal in Singapore, and expected. You don't get this chance everyday, so litter for all your life is worth. I actually went back at one water station to take a second cup so I could toss it again. Cheap thrill but oh so liberating.
There were also all manners of mascots along ECP. There was a transformer, which was pretty cute, although it wasn't very interactive. There was another very interactive mascot with a huge outstretched palm, but when I ran forward to smack it, I realised to my horror that the palm was super sweaty. I spent the next 3 minutes trying to find a water point to wash my hands. I guess I could have rubbed my hand on someone else's shirt, but they were all equally sweaty.
Coming out from East Coast Park, I ran along the road leading to the National Stadium. There was an angmoh standing by the side of the road clapping his hands and shouting "Come on guys! Don't stop running! You are the future of our nation!" Several people ignored him and walked past, before running into the petrol kiosks nearby to get refreshments, which was pretty hilarious. They won't run for the country, but they will run for cold H2O.
The rest of the run was just forcing myself towards completion, kilometre by kilometre. I couldn't feel my ankles, my calves were sore, and the soles of my feet hurt like mad. I saw a Salonpas station along the way, which had 2 girls spraying Salonpas onto the calves of tired runners. It was amazing. People who were limping or almost lame would suddenly begin running again after a touch of that miracle spray. If you watched that enough you'd believe that Salonpas could make the wheelchair bound stand up and walk.
Struggling across Nicoll Highway, and through the Formula 1 racetrack, I ran into an area full of army guys wearing tiger masks and carrying placards with cheesy slogans like "Pain is temporary, pride is forever" or "Pain and suffering is what separates men from boys". I got a stitch from laughing at the corniness of it all. The next stretch took me past the Esplande and Fullerton, and I cut into the road between City Hall and the Padang. When the army dude there went "Come on, last 400 metres!", I just bolted. I think the whole world must have noticed because my arms were flailing as I sprinted because I wanted to finish the run as soon as possible.
There is nothing like the feeling of seeing the endpoint after running over 20km on end, and when I saw it, somehow the pain just disappeared and I found some reserve of energy somewhere to sprint past it. And when I did, I raised my arms again, but because I felt an immense sense of achievement at having completed what was definitely my longest run ever. Then I realised I was super thirsty and started looking for a water point. The only one was swamped with millions of sweaty army boys, and the only way you could get any water was to squeeze in there with them. I swear that's what they do to torture people in hell, because it was smelly, disgusting, cold and slimy. Yes, slimy. I am not kidding.
I will always treasure this medal, because I endured slimy army guys, really bad BO, had sweat flicked in my face, and ran till my calves were on fire to earn it.