Saturday, April 23, 2005
The Scene at Day Two's Finish
Barely 3 hours ago, the finish line was a scene reminiscent of a battlefield casualty collection point. To one side, a handful of athletes laid stretched on the grass, their legs wracked by cramps. Race officials and medical personnel attended to them, working the knots out of their muscles and plying them with cold drinks and energy bars. Avtar conceded, “To be honest, our estimates for the course duration have flown totally out the window. We’ll start tonight’s briefing as soon as the last team pulls in by eight-thirty pm.”
Now, everyone from our team has dropped off to sleep within half an hour of the conclusion of the race briefing. Out of routine more than out of fervour, I am at the maps once more, copying race instructions, tracing the route for the coming day, measuring distances. I am of two minds. One believes our team can finish on the podium, and to push all out for the third and final day. But the other comes to grip with the palpable reality: We have pushed too hard already, racing to the limits of exhaustion, almost resulting in a life-threatening emergency evacuation. I let my deliberations hang as I too eventually retire for the night.
Now, everyone from our team has dropped off to sleep within half an hour of the conclusion of the race briefing. Out of routine more than out of fervour, I am at the maps once more, copying race instructions, tracing the route for the coming day, measuring distances. I am of two minds. One believes our team can finish on the podium, and to push all out for the third and final day. But the other comes to grip with the palpable reality: We have pushed too hard already, racing to the limits of exhaustion, almost resulting in a life-threatening emergency evacuation. I let my deliberations hang as I too eventually retire for the night.
