Stanchart 2012: The PR Bitch

It was somewhere after the 21km mark. Somewhere along East Coast Park. Sometime at 7 something perhaps a few minutes after 8am.

That's when my pace had fallen apart.

My body exerting against an impregnable wall and labouring terribly from premature exhaustion. I must have begun to think that I may not be able to attain my sub-4 goal for the Stanchart (SCMS) 42K distance. A dispiriting thought that choked the enthusiasm.

The early December morning was lightly warm and not too humid so the weather could not be the culprit. The fault was reserved for my folly, an overconfidence which drove a fast pace at the start, and one I could not have maintained long enough to the finish.

Without much hope, I lumbered to the left side of a narrow walk path.

And then they came.

From behind, a 4-hour pacing group caught up. One of the lead runners was a tanned, lean-frame lady, who looked to be in her 30s.

She shouted some words that I know was meant for me.

I will never forget what they were.

"WALKERS, KEEP TO THE GRASS PATCH!"

That ignited.

The rude holler set my heart in flames, a raging fire emerged. I burst off a murderous sprint after the pacing group, and as I dashed past, I lashed out at the runners.

I think my response went like,"WALKER OVERTAKING!!!".

Can't remember exactly.

The lead did not last long. Eventually, the four-hours group rushed ahead of me, and towards a faster time-finish than the one they called a 'walker'. 

What remained lodged in memory, during that morning of 2012, was the outrage of being insulted at, by a stranger so obsessed in pursuing her PR that the most basic form of courtesy flew out of her head.

To this day, I believe there is no wrong on my part. I slowed down, yes. But I did kept to the left side as it would have been appreciated, so that other racers could run through, unobstructed.

Even if a grass patch is an extremely negotiable surface, a  concrete walk path in the park is made for human foot movements. People ran on it because it is a slightly smoother ground to stride across.

And unless this is Standard Charted Trail Marathon Singapore, everybody has the damn right to use and stick to that path. Even if they are slower runners.   

Unfortunately, at that time, Ms PR Bitch was running together with her massive four-hours pace group which was basically a cluster-fuck of people who were going to squeeze others off the track. The motorised equivalent is a monster truck roaring down a tight two-lane road, with vehicles crushed by its obscenely humungous wheels.

In both situations, a complete douche is born.
 
But PR Bitch was lucky.

Had it been one of those rugged trail ultras, things would be very different.  There, it is no shame to be a walker.

There, you can't just bossed your way over others, even if you are jammed-stuck in a clogging of runners along a up-slope. It's like kicking a mountain goat in the ass and think you could get away without having yours savagely bruised.

Those, who could not stand to be delayed, should man it up and train hard. Beating the crowd means that you got to push yourself and run fast.

Like, run fucking fast.

It didn't happen for the PRB. She didn't dealt properly with the situation. She simply shoved people off with the arrogance of a Lamborghini speedster.    
 
SCMS 2012, if not being the worst, is at least one of the most unpleasant experiences in my four-years plus running life. I recorded the weakest timing for the 42.195km distance, about 10 minutes off from 4:30.

After that, I gave 2013 a miss, together with this year as well. My absence could likely continued for a few more editions until I gathered enough courage to face my demons once more.   

It will never be the same though. Hopefully, by then, I would have come back stronger. And faster.

My target?

Beat the 4-hours pace group.