Back to Square One

 Come September 1st 2011, it has been once year since I moved from Ireland to UK, but on Sept the 5th, 2011 I am back to Square one. The square where I started my life abroad back in early 2008. This beautiful square is Dublin. I moved back to the same work place where I was working earlier. I call it 'goodwill' some may say its 'luck' , what ever the reason may be I am really glad that I have moved back. Its true that this city is not as advanced as London, but still there is something warm about Dublin. It might be because I know this place so well that, its taken the place of my 'Home away from Home' spot. I must thank many of my ex collogues here who really have the heart of gold to make sure I get back here even after many unavoidable circumstances delayed me by two months. To add to my surprise I moved back into the very same house that I lived in when I left Dublin. Things could not fall into place better than this. My fond memories in Dublin was this is the place where i took to running. To celebrate my own arrival back to 'Home away from Home' on a Friday morning, i came across an entry ticket for a half marathon run in the magnificent phoenix park which I grabbed within a heart beat (impulsive is my middle name). Then my mind functioned after a few months delay, bringing a flashing Red Neon lit sign on my face, 'NO TRAINING!'. Its been two months since i ran and the max I have run is 6 km then. So how could I ever make a 22 km run then! 99% of me said, there is no way I cannot finish it, but some where in there the good side of me saud, give it your best.

The next day, the race starts at 10:00 ad I am chatting away with my folks back in India till 9:10, then in a haste change and picked up my rickety old bike and cycled to the park which is 9 km away!! I was already panting by the time i get there only to see the first set of sub 1:30 runners take off. I ran to back of the line which is the sub 2:00 category, changed clothes right by the side of the track and left the clothes in a bag out in the open hoping that It would not be stolen.Realised I had no pins to wear my race number. I spot few electricians who helped me by duct taping the number on me!. 10:20 is when I begin my run and there it starts; the long journey. But to my good luck the first 16 kms my pace was good, then when the tough gets going the going gets tough. Every step was a challenge. But this time the big difference was at no point did I ever feel that I must stop and quit, the only voice in my head was finish, finish! the last 4 kms is where i was walking for majority of the trail with a limp, finally i see the 800 met to go sign which just was a adrenalin shot, then comes the 400 met sign and the worst happens, a good gust of wind just took my race number flying away into the park.

My timing chip was on that and it does not make sense to finish without that.With a limp chased it and caught it, I could see folks along side cheering me saying, 'Hold on to it mate, you can do it' with applause. Never has a piece of paper been more precious to me. I would say it meant more than a paper with a huge denomination on it.

The finish line was more dear than anything to me. so it was a Arduous 22 km in 2 hours 22 minutes. All digits in 2 in a memorable way to remember my first Half Marathon and my second entry to this wonderful country.I dedicate this run to my most important person.Hoping next year she will around to cheer me on on my full Marathon. (...gradually Badri walks away from the computer with a limp....)