Leading up to the 50k there were some
good signs (BBM as a workout in 2:45; Burke-Gilman FKT; probably the best K
repeat workout of my life & effort-appropriate at that). With the novelty
of the rare-feel-good, the rarity of effortlessness, I’d think about the opposite,
its likely imminence. Then I’d reframe, think about coasting, about being in it,
as opposed to growing it, needing more. I had this growing anxiety, not about
the race, but about the travel to and being in India. I imagine it was in large
part due to the changing chemical topography in my brain (having recently come
off meds). Anxiety, that fall, claimed leader. A debilitating affliction. It is
quite hard to not believe in the bad thoughts, and if you’re spiritual or
intuitive in any sense, harder yet to believe you’re not promoting
premonitions.
So, I was having all these bad
thoughts about India, but training was good. Then, the IAU changed the course
(the original was set around Necklace Road & I’d been visualizing it for months),
and then I got Covid a few weeks out from departure. See: promoting
premonitions. I compartmentalized. As beforementioned, the last time I had it
held 2 years of poor health & running thereafter. Through
compartmentalization, a generally uninhabited faith for a positive outcome
& sheer luck, this covid was tame. I tapered. I sat with the anxiety. I went
to the annual Beer Crawl dressed as Lady Godiva, though people wondered if I
myself was the horse. And on Sunday, October 29th I got on the plane.
Sun 10/29 – Flight from SEA to Dubai (14h35m)
Splurged for extra legroom. The
Emirates flight crew were pleasant. They didn’t seem stressed or above it. They
handed out goods early and often. Gave stuffed toys to the children; took
pictures of them on old polaroids. The ceiling pane lit up like stars at night.
A meal of chicken, rice, pesto, couscous salad, roll, chocolate mousse, red
wine, which sounds nice in words, but had that semi-plastic Easy Bake Oven to
it. It’s tiresome that even when you try to help yourself towards comfort, you
spend money on tangibly taxed comfort, that really what you’ve done is paid an
extra $200 for legroom where people on a long flight like to stand and rock
babies and stack their meal trays, all of this stretching of the human
experience at the feet of your splurge, meaning, that even when you think you
have control of your situation and that money spent on a thing earns ownership
of it, is not or never was individually possessed. In the last few hours of
flight, a hot breakfast of scrambled eggs, baked beans, potatoes, roll with
cream cheese & jam, fruit, OJ, coffee, black tea with cream. The 2hr layover
in Dubai was quiet, pristine. Used my first squat-latrine.
Mon 10/30 – Dubai to Hyderabad (3h25m)
The compartments above had more
room than the long International. A man took a banana from the attendant’s
space (I think it was her personal banana), and she tried to get it back. It
was a weird argument, of which the man won. All clutch the tops of the seats as
they walk past, creating a couple hour cadence of sudden alert. Each took 5-10
minutes in the bathroom, which was unnerving. Had butter rice, paneer, orzo
salad, roll, vermicelli noodle dessert.
Tue 10/31 – 2:40 am arrival in Hyderabad
Customs was rough. They don’t
seem to give you claims forms on Int’l flights anymore, nor direct you to where
they’re kept at Customs. You just have to know where a stand might be with the
documents, hidden between swarths of people. At 2:40 in their morning I stood
in line for 1.5 hrs & when it was my turn they turned me away because I
didn’t have it ready. I hot-flushed, sweat dripping from my elbows. I had to
find the claims form, get back in line, and wait another 2 hours; started to
cry. It was my own lack of savvy, but I could have used a kindness. After that
sweaty, emotional, inefficient first customs check we were directed to another
line so someone could verify that we’d gone through the previous one. And then
another line for the scans. Except I guess I put myself in the men’s line, and
it took me way too long to figure out that it was their custom that I had to be
scanned by a female, in a curtained room. All the while, I’ve got someone from outside
calling me every 2 minutes (but I don’t speak Telagu or Hindi & they don’t
speak English) and I just say, Idon’tunderstandI’msorryIwassupposedtobeoutofherehoursagoifyou’rewaitingonmejustleaveit’sok.
I had booked that first night at
the Marriott Hyderabad on Hussain Sagar Lake, where the 50K course was originally
to be held, so I could tour it before moving to the host hotel. And I booked a
car from the hotel to pick me up from the airport to take me there. I’d heard (as
should be the case for all situations anywhere), that you shouldn’t get into a
car with two men you don’t know (as a woman). I figured the person calling me
incessantly was my driver from the Marriott. After many hours in the airport I
popped out at baggage to a sign that read my name. The person had been waiting
there for me since 2:40 am. I was too tired to be too embarrassed. He wasn’t
speaking to me and started jogging to the parking lot. Dripping sweat, myself
jogging, I tried to keep him 10ft in view as we weaved. He calls someone, and a
car pulls up, and then suddenly I’m in an unassuming/non-hotel-affiliated personal
car with two men, in the dark early hours of Halloween morning, and we don’t
understand each other. They pay to exit, and I have no idea if I’m supposed to
pay them back. It’s my first taste of Indian driving, and it’s enthralling. Too
weary to be afraid; it’s a hallmark that there’s someone slowly walking across
the highway amidst brightly colored cargo trucks (See: the Psychedelic World of
Indian Truck Art & “Second Wives”) and all of us maneuver around in a fit
of near miss. A first taste in the culture of driving, in the language of honk.
I’m thinking these men are taking
me to the Marriott, but they deposit me at Greenpark (the host hotel, of which
I’d stay the majority of the trip, but not that night). It takes me a while to deduce
that they were hired by the IAU to pick up athletes (some kind of signage would
have been helpful). Since I’m there, I want to verify that I’m good to check in
the following day and grow wearier when they don’t have a reservation for me.
They’ve not heard of this IAU 50K World Championships of which they’re
the host hotel. I tell them I’ll just check back tomorrow, but they’re curious,
and though they have no idea what’s going on, and though I’m there a day early,
and though there’s no rooms currently available, they convince me to stick around.
I’m nervous to cancel my res at the Marriott when everything seems awry, but
also relish the idea of staying in one place, there, then.
I’m following the thread of the
universe’s push & pull. They’re kind – store my bags, get me access to the
gym. I was rudely assigned a workout for that day. Did 3E, 20m T, 5m E, 5x
45s/1m, 2E. Cricket played on the tv. Others milled in. I was drenched. After,
in the adjoining courtyard, I sat down under the trees to cool. A nice man came
to sit beside and asked about what I’d done on the treadmill. He introduces
himself as the chef of Once Upon a Time, calls for coffee for us. We
spend a lot of time converting miles to kilometers. Says all the employees get
1hr/day benefit of the gym as a work perk; says he got 40 minutes in &
needs it as he pats his small rotund. We talk and drink and he calls someone to
ask about expediting my room. He’s incredibly kind and it roots me into
presence, a little.
GREENPARK – The Greenpark hotel is first facing and
sister of Marigold by Greenpark (the elevated, more sumptuous sibling). It is an
Indian 4-star’r located in Ameerpet, Greenlands, Begumpet in the northwest part
of Hyderabad, Telangana, and was perhaps chosen for its close’ish prox to the
original 50k course. Strangely (or logistically necessary), federations were
split across Greenpark & Marigold, which seemed a slight because one was better
than the other, and one had a week’s long construction project occurring, while
the other did not. Also strange was that online the prices were far less
expensive than what we’d been charged through IAU’s bill to our federation
which then billed each of us. The US team lodged at Greenpark; we got construction
in a nice 8-5 window & with it hammering, outages & for some, non-working
toilets. I don’t mind a bit of grit, don’t need a ton of comfort, but when
competing teams receive different comforts it’s shit. Irritation likely
influenced by Team GB’s shacking at Marigold with its rooftop pool & finer
dining, their federation’s aid of cooling ice vests & use of bone
conduction headphones while racing (and, in the end their win, on several
levels). Anyhow, it was lovely in its way, felt safe & secure, had nice dining
options within, came with a mini-fridge of Kingfishers, bottled water, baby food
pouches & a dry bar stocked with cookies & chips on the daily.
At 10am the room was ready. Took
a shower, washed my running clothes within. Unpacked. Took what I hoped would
be a minor nap – it was 8hrs. It was 8pm, then; I read until 2am, fell asleep
and woke well-rested at 5:20am on Wednesday Nov 1, my mother’s birthday.
Wed NOV 1 – A temple chant or call to prayer haunted
the dark morning. 3 miles on the treadmill. I put on what appeared to be Indian
TRL. Met US teammates for breakfast at the hotel’s buffet, which offered the
following each day: breads, jams & coconut chutney, doughnuts, muffins,
banana cake, dry fruit cakes, Danish pastries, croissants, stew fruits, cold
& hot milks, butter milk, millets, Ragi Java, sweet lassi, strawberry
milkshakes, canned mango juice, fresh watermelon juice, gunpowder (?), ghee, boiled
eggs in a silver dish of salt, egg Bhurji, chicken sausages grilled with
tomatoes & onions, boiled vegetables, potato wedges, vegetable korma,
semiya utta pam, vada, Daliya Upma, Aloo Paratha, Pongal, corn Idly, Sambar, an
omelet bar, a silver-kettled coffee bar.
Attempted a walk from the hotel.
Greenpark sits on the lip of a busy (but what is not) 4-lane highway (2 each
direction, no pedestrian space alongside except for that which is carved forcefully,
jaggedly), broken by a thin center median & above, a sky rail. There’s
hardly a pause in the traffic of a single lane, let alone the 4 that comprises.
It is a skill, a confidence. Found it funny that an old woman trailed my every
move across in the fits and quicks. I imagine she thought I’d be hit first. Observed
men at sewing machines on the street in front of fabric stores, small box
trucks selling singular produce (plump baby tomatoes, small purple onions,
fruits). A 7-11. A motorcycle with a long strand of matted braided hair wrapped
around the bars. Bank atm (10,000 INR/day max + $2.40 fee). Grocery store –
where I purchased a liter of water, a razor & 2 pointed packets of henna.
1:30 pm – A few of us took a car to
Sagar Hussain Lake. While running we were stopped to see if perhaps we wanted
weed, specifically, pointedly, one of us specifically – Kats standing there
with a water bottle in each hand and the potential salesman trying to shake his
hand; a concessionary fist bump. Toured the edge, the garden. The sidewalk,
where there was one, was tilted with low limbs, peeping the subtle outline of
buildings blurred by thick smog. Families scootered past, barefoot, babies
between their bodies. Women [only] working a construction site carrying squares
of concrete on their heads. (Considered the “Invisible Workforce,” “…women are
mostly hired to head-load bricks and cement bags, mix mortar and cement, sift
sand or clean.”) They make up half of the 40-million sector.
Dinner later at the hotel –
grated beetroot, aloo chana chaat, French bean & egg salad, chicken tikka
salad, curd rice, dahl vada, chicken masala, chepala pulusu, anda hara masala,
chicken biryani, raita, mirchi ka salan, paneer jalfrezi, kadai, vegetable
curry, aloo pepper fry, vankaya batani curry, dal tadka, rasmalai, linzer
torte, modatha kuja, Anamika burfi, rose kalakand, delhi ka laddu, hot
chocolate brownie & gulab jamin. A midnight biryani was made available.
Thurs 11/2 – Woke with energy at 4:20am. Breakfast
offered the same selection as the day previous. At 9:45am the team met to take
cars to Sri Kotla Vijay Bhaskara Reddy Botanical Garden (45m-1hr drive for
350-400 INR x 1-way). The garden is in Kothaguda, Kondapur, Hitec City and was
created to “conserve and develop the germ plasm and to educate the people.” 274
acres of medicinal plants, timber & fruit trees, ornamentals, aquatics, bamboos,
rolling meadows, grasslands, rock formations, large figurines of wild animals,
a male-only gym in the shape of a turtle. The sky was a more vacant blue, the
heat laid thicker sans immediate smog. Schoolchildren cheered for us. Though
stimulating & safe, I did not enjoy this run. Broke out in a heat rash. We
meandered the park after: paddleboaters, a massive building in build, a ropes
set with a wire across the sky, a bicycle rigged to the wire; a man bicycled
backwards and forwards.
Lunch – Corn & chicken soup,
hara mutter soup, paneer methi-malai, dhingri palak bake, gobi mutter, zaffrani
aloo korma, palak patta pakora, Donda kaya palli fry, tomato pappu, akuri,
murgh lababdar, kheema mutter, tawa fish, military chicken biryani, raita,
michi ka salan, subz dum biryani, bisibelebath, lemon rice, dahi wada, a
selcection of wet veg and dry snacks. Dessert – fruits (pineapple, melons,
watermelon), almond financier, motichur laddu, rasmafal, chocolate burfi,
khasta goja, dry fruit burfi, lapsi, rasgulla, kesar kalakand, double ka meetha,
coconut mascarpone cake, gulab jamun & opera cake.
After – a few of us walked Ameerpet
Rd. outside the hotel to a bookstore, to the grocery. I was quite tired, really
for the first time, in that deep way. Laid down for a few hours. Up for dinner,
for a buffet they set up for the athletes, downstairs at GP – a smaller
selection with Chinese noodles, soup, butter chicken, yellow ice cream with
toffee, a sponge cake in a cold white broth.
Team Mtg #1 – We were given Credentials,
spoke on plans for ice, a freezer chest, sponges, de-fizzed coke, how the aid
stations would work, the amt of and location of portos on course, bibs, chips,
shoe tags. The Brits had been allowed on the racecourse that day, saying their “Government
sent them,” but we would not have approved access until Saturday, the day
before the race.
Fri 11/3 – Woke around 2am for a bit, again at
6:20. Went to Kallin’s room where they were streaming football and drinking
good coffee. Met the team at 7:30 where we uber’d back to the botanical garden
for a 4-mile run. After, a few older Indian men asked us for a picture then
entertained us with calisthenics & sun salutations (upon which the lead
entertainer said that he does 130 cal-sun-salu’s a day). They had just finished
some yoga in the park. Wanted to know how old each of us were. Went around
guessing. A pretty even 10-year-under guess per. I was 29. Feigned shock when
each woman offered her age – a gentleman.
Brunch at the hotel. Rest. Back
alley to the Marigold, to its rooftop pool. Bumped into John the Irishman. Lin,
Megan, Irish, Adam & I cooled by the pool. CD’s hung from string, tickling
the water to stave birds.
Lunch – Breadstuffs, rasgulla,
roasted chilli lime chicken legs with gremolata, grilled fish with lemon butter
sauce & capanota, Mexican corn, baked ratatouille, cauliflower mornay,
vegetable hakka, penne arrabiata, corn samosa, sweet corn vegetable soup, corn
salad, slaw, chickpea salad (lots of corn shit).
An afternoon coffee at the
Marigold lounge with most of the team. We asked each other get-to-know-yous,
about pets and Kats starts talking about his cat, says,
“He’s got a sprained ankle and
diabetes.
…and he’s my best friend.
…His name is Junkyard.”
Dinner (downstairs GP) – Corn,
tomato, basil & beet salad, lemon coriander soup, jalapeno cheese poppers,
grilled fish in a creamy cheese sauce with olive tapenade, garlic parmesan
chicken with mushroom duxelles, Singapore noodles, baked peperonata, roasted
ginger sweet potatoes with coconut milk.
Sat 11/4: 6am - Talked with Sloane about
race plan. We thought on a good day with good race specs I could hit 6:05s, but
with the heat, air quality and course, maybe 6:20-40s. The US team was given
approval to preview the course at Hyderabad University (via the LOC). We
adopted a Brit for the day, my sweet friend C. Molinaro. Took 3-4 ubers over
and were denied entry by the guards at the gate to the University. They feigned
unawareness that a race was to be had there the following day. The whole
experience was perturbing, a test of patience. A steady line of motorcycles,
cars & small buses filled with children, their faces pressed to the glass
observing us standing awkwardly at the entrance in a burst of red, white &
blue. Vadeboncouer was in touch with the LOC, our team leads, the school,
trying to gain us that promised access. Several grew weary & uber’d back to
the hotel; it was hard to know which end to take, but pacing, exposed there
under the Hyderabad sun for an hour while a cacophony of bats the size of
eagles chittered in the trees and curious ragged dogs milled, the day before
the race, didn’t seem entirely bright. After an hour the guards let what was
left of us in. No evident reasoning, aside from, perhaps, they had asserted
their power for an appropriately adopted amount of time.
The few of us left incl. Molinaro
ran the course, which constituted a 5k loop that we’d do 10x’s. Did 4-5
strides. Uber’d back to catch the last of breakfast. Prepped bottles.
Lunch: Pimped (?) vegan tomato
soup with breadcrumbs, mint cucumber salad, kidney beans, Moroccan lentil
meatballs with roasted red pepper sauce, grilled fish with cheese/garlic/olive
tapenade, roasted eggplant parmesan, creamy polenta cakes with cheese sauce,
roasted butternut squash with curried coconut/mint/peas/ghee, spicy vegetable
spring rolls, double ka meetha, cantaloupe, butterscotch ice cream.
Met with Lin to discuss crewing/aid
(her being & having been my crew on two previous world teams). Finalized 10
btls in total with every other liquid Maurten & Liquid IV or Nuun Sport,
plus gels, ginger candies. Sipped a cup of strong coffee. Watched Andrea on the
Athlete Panel. 5:15 pm – we had another Team meeting in the lobby in our podium
suits.
OPENING CEREMONIES
Disney Britney held our US sign. We
took photos with team India. Walked out to the courtyard at Greenpark, the
night dark; a woman blessed us with a dip of red dotted at center forehead,
another placed a necklace of heavy pearls around our neck. To the stage against
a pixelated US flag. Brief talks by Nadeem & the WMA Lead. A beautiful
10-minute performance by Indian dancers ornamented in traditional dress, their
hands & feet dipped & decorated in vivid ink. They danced against a
digital backdrop, an acid screen of moving shapes & spirals set to music. It
was mesmerizing but thwarted by poor connectivity. The music would cut out
& they’d freeze in place, muted, a slight tremor in the holding.
After – the pre-race dinner,
pasta-focused, a little lagging in the reload. Slept well enough, not a lot,
nor little.
Sun 11/5 – IAU 50K World Championships
2-4 am – Woke; able to fall back asleep
until 4. Light stretching/rolling, coffee with sugar, 2 packets of oatmeal,
light makeup, long braid. Prepped Maurten bi-carb.
5:15 am - To the lobby where the
team congregated. Coffee to-go. A large Bharat Benz bus took US through a black
morning & light traffic to Hyderabad U. Ate the bicarb en route about 1.5
hrs before the start.
6:20 am – Arrived. It appeared we
were the last to; all the other nations’ tables were set up.
7 am – The race started,
surprisingly, on time. The course held a gentle downhill before turning sharply
left along a wide speedbump. Quite quickly a small group of women separated
themselves, comprising of the Brits & Andrea. A larger second pack (myself
within) kept them in sight, but didn’t bridge that immediate gap for a while: two
locked paces. Though we’d toured the course the day before, we didn’t see how
the turnarounds would look as the course hadn’t been marked at the time. I was
aware of the speedbumps, how large & cumbersome they could be and assumed we’d
do a 180-turn around the center median, or perhaps worse, a cone, which IAU and
other cruel race curators are apt to incorporate. You think you’ve got the worst-case
scenarios envisioned & that you’re at least mentally prepped for an
assortment of odd, and IAU/local governing body laughs & says, hold my beer.
When we got out to the edgemost part of the course, there was a water table on
the left, followed 15ft later by a thin sheet of particle board/composite plywood
covering a divot, a ditch or wires beneath, directly followed by a cone-to-180 around.
If this doesn’t paint a good picture, know that a water station next to
particle board = wetslip decomposing & a 180deg cone after a wetslip
decomposing particle board = a pretty riotous downshift in gears & momentum
and subsequent clogging. I’m being explicit, because, I think this is how I got
severely injured. Otherwise, I’d chalk it to a weird quirk that added a cross
country feel to an otherwise monotonous course. And, this all, because they
only wanted/only could close 1 lane on the course, the other still open to
traffic.
This was a fun finding that I
don’t think maddened anyone, at least immediately…we would have to experience
it 10 times. Here are other fun findings:
-
Though
our side of the road was said to be closed to traffic, people in cars, on
motorcycles, on foot & stray dogs meandered across the course; you had to
be on the alert. This would go on to include ambulances who had to pick up athletes
in distress.
-
Though
those manning the water stations started out well enough, they ran out of steam
& water. At times they wouldn’t let go of the cup. With the increase in
heat, they seemed to grow lethargic and would stand on the course on their
phones, sleepily checked out (can’t blame them). Then, in a fun culmination,
after we’d been racing for a few hours and the heat permeated and the water ran
out, they lazed about under the trees. They did, however, set out all the empty
cups in lines on the table, so that you’d excitedly reach for one only to find
-
-
The
heat registered around mid-high 70s and grew against a sweatered humidity. I’d
imagine this was a large reason why half the field dropped, and why some were
picked up by ambulance, and why the portos held soup & why poop streamed
down some of their legs, and why it was so key that the Brits were afforded
Nike cooling vests by their federation. Mid-high 70’s doesn’t sound too bad on
paper, but pair it with humidity & smog and therein lies the distress.
I planned for the heat. The other
factors, however, I figured, were owed to be done decently. With these things,
a person was kept on their toes. It was (in my opinion) such a literal &
figurative shitshow that I relaxed into the madness, into the lack of control. I
also received a gift of distraction, or, a cherry to the shit, where surviving
to the finish would mean more than nitpicking the small nuance in fear that it
would affect competitive performance.
Before halfway (near mile 15), I
was going over one of those super speedbumps and in a sudden strike felt my
calf lock, ache, give. There wasn’t a telling pop, but it was sudden &
severe. I was halfway through a loop, stopped to stretch, massage. Started
again. I hadn’t experienced such before. Figured it was a cramp. Slowed a bit.
Made it to the US aid station (of which we’d pass once each loop), and asked
Lin & Meghan about it. Meghan figured it was a cramp/knot and worked on the
spot with rigor. Near vommed from the pain. I hydrated & took in some salt
tabs hoping it would go away. Started another loop. Stopped several more times
to rub; slowed furthermore, trying to find a pace or a posturing. Wishfully, though
idiotically, I took in somewhere like 10 salt tabs. This was not good bodily,
later. Just before the calf crap, I was feeling v confident in how I was performing.
I had played it smart. My pack was fizzling but I was slowly reeling the lead
group in. I felt confident that I could slowly bridge; felt inspired, curious,
proud of myself, playful. And then, in a second, it changed (as it does).
Thought a lot about pros/cons the
next 2 hours. It seemed wisest to drop so that I could curb the worst &
save myself for CIM & the larger goal of an OTQ, but, I bargained: They
think it’s a cramp…can’t let the team down…I ran, entirely compromised,
babying, dragging, single-leggedly, like a fool.
The positive is that I got to
watch the race unfold: the Spaniards’ confident claim, Carla’s feral break of
the lead pack and Andrea’s nearly matching – her concentration. Experienced Melissa
overtaking, her steadiness, the look of otherware on the face of Disney Britney,
the body-clutch and seizing of Alexandra, her 10-pack pulsing; played back-and-forth
with Ildi. A looped Championship course affords observation & the
opportunity to celebrate people in real time.
Carla, my love, dom'd with the win, followed by Andrea a little over 30s later. 3rd was Sarah Webster of GBR a minute's more. Bright spots of humid laud. Scoring forthe US was Andrea (2nd), Melissa (11th), and myself (14th). GBR won Team Gold, US - Silver & Croatia - Bronze. The only other scoring team was India for 4th.
I’m shocked I finished, baffled further
I scored & proud of our Team Silver. It doesn’t feel meritous in that way
where you’ve gone against the best and your mettle is tangible, rather we got
Silver against a field of which near 50% dropped, there ending with 31 total (F)
finishers, with 4 total scoring teams, against a backdrop of smog and volunteers
laying prostrate under the trees and people with so much GI distress drug
testing was basically nonviable…
Individual Women’s Results
Women’s Team Results
ESP swept 1st - 3rd & Team Gold. Silver was India (rad), and GBR was Bronze. Our men were 4th, led by Adam Vadeboncoeur (11th), Bijan Mazaheri (20th) & Mike Katsefaras (22nd).
Individual Men’s Results
Men’s Team Results
*Race Report by Jacek Bedkowski (IAU Director of Communication)
It’s a different kind of post-race
pain when you run compromised for 16+ miles. Though physically miserable, my
attitude was more upbeat than not, likely held in the fragile hug of team
camaraderie, of bonding in misery, in relief. All of us save for Andrea, who
was held up in drug testing, boarded the bus, waiting for her to be done. A round
of beer would have been pleasant here. I looked down to see Smogoleski’s young
son’s foot, which had a tracking tag attached. Made me laugh. Near last to
leave, we bused the hour+ back to Greenpark. I came to find I looked & felt
pregnant. My stomach/guts were so swollen I’m not sure I could see below the
bulge. I think this was due to either a) salt tab overkill b) 0-100 biryani
consumption.
1pm – a lunch spread of pastas, Indian noodle
dishes, breads.
3pm – Awards ceremony in the GP courtyard (top
3, WMA’s, team awards). We encouraged some of our men to find celebratory
beverages, so they risked their lives to cross the street for stock, though
once acquired, no lobby or outdoor area would warrant our imbibe. Had coffee
& snacks at Conçu, a café and cake boutique adjoining GP.
6:30pm – Afterparty on
the rooftop pool deck of the Marigold. Given how difficult it was to acquire
& partake and just the overall logistical vibe of the week, I was surprised
by the Lit nature of the afterparty. Dimlit & adorned in blue-bulbed
blacklight, a bar pouring wine (Fratelli Cab Sauv, Cab Franc Shiraz &
Chenin Blanc) and beer (Kingfishers, etc). An elaborate spread of silver-tin
buffet foods:
Savories
-
Malai Paneer Tikka: mouth-watering
app of paneer, fresh cream, cashew paste, cheese cubes & a mélange of
spices
-
“Cajun Fried Fish Finger”
-
Curd Papad Pickle Mixed Vegetable
Raitha: cool & refreshing curd-based dish
-
Sambar: thick lentil stew made
with toor dal aka lentils, mixed vegetables, tamarind & a special spice powder
known as sambar masala powder
-
Butter Pepper Rice
-
Vegetables Parmigiana
-
“Baked Vegetable Princess” : In research,
perhaps this was a recipe of Chef S Gopu Krishna’s, vegetarian, with creamy
bechamel sauce
-
Mutter Paneer: North Indian dish
of cottage cheese & peas cooked in spicy curry (‘Matar’ is Hindi for ‘peas,’
and ‘paneer’ for “Indian cheese.’)
-
Veg Hakka Noodles: Indo-Chinese quick
stir fry noodles w/ onions, bell peppers, cabbage, etc
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“Slice Chicken in Chilly Garlic
Sauce”
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Chicken Dum Biryani
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Lamb Pie: curried shepherd’s pie
-
Grilled Fish with Lemon Butter
Sauce
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Chicken Almond Soup
Sweets
-
Malai Chum Chum: Bengali sweet made
with paneer, soaked in syrup & coated with rich, creamy malai
-
blueberry cheese cake
-
Rasgulla: syrupy ball-shaped
dumplings of chhena dough
We ate, drank, stood
in circles, traded merch in a mass clothing exchange (some pieces more coveted
than others, namely the really sick Japanese gear). Britney did a fashion show
in España-ware. Until too tired to
continue, we departed for bed by 9:30pm.
MON 11/6 – Packed. Down to breakfast to meet with
remaining teammates & Carla. Talked about strategies communicated
pre/during the race. A spouse likened their crewing and the whole of the
experience to Harry Potter’s Tri-Wizard tournament. Checked out of GP; they
kindly stored our bags so we could tour Golconda Fort. Uber’d with Carla, her
parents, Melissa & Irish John to the Fort. Passed a “Free Chai Counter,” a
place where you could set your chai down off the highway.
GOLCONDA - can be traced back to
the 11th c and is regarded as a Monument of National Importance. Originally
began as a small mud fort, expanded upon to defend the western region, then
furthermore into a fortified citadel, further still with each Qutb Shahi sultan.
“It remained the capital of the Qutb Shahi dynasty until 1590 when the capital
was shifted to Hyderabad…The fort finally fell into ruin in 1687 after an eight-month-long
siege led to its fall at the hands of the Mughal emperor…who ended the Qutb
Shahi reign and took the last Golconda king, Abul Hassan Tana Shah, captive.” (4)
distinct forts are enclosed with a 10km long outer wall, 87 semicircle bastions
(some with cannons), 8 gateways 4 drawbridges, royal apartments, halls,
temples, mosques, magazines, stables, tombs of the Qutub Shahi kings.
No lines at Golconda save for a
throng of haggling tour guides. Entry was 30 for locals and 300 for foreigners.
We walked the Fort through, sweating, pigeons and bats cooing and fluttering in
the dark alcoves of the inner chambers. Men hung high by rope held by hand swording
the green growth between the fort’s stones. Everyone gravitated our way or
goggled, which was odd but sort of understandable – all of us there (I’d
imagine) to experience ancient history, but distracted by blondes? We (or more
specifically the milky-skinned & uber-blonde Melissa) had photoshoots. Irish
John stood atop vistas swinging his camera from a string in circles (this didn’t
even draw attention away from the blonde). We hiked to the highest point (about
1km) – to the ‘Bala Hisar’ pavilion and the Jagadamba Temple. Saw a most
aristocratic long-haired white, flat-faced cat on a leash, there, at the
temple.
We drove back to have lunch at
GP, at Concu. A cappuccino, a warm, slow-roasted root veg salad (garbanzo
beans, spicy honey harissa, sour cream spread, root vegetables & toasted
ciabatta). A trio of cakes: Midnight Sonnet (chocolate French biscuit) & 2
selections by Carla. Ate over Darjeeling tea served in a glass pot with 2
petite glass mugs. Said our goodbyes. Irish John’s flight was out early the
next morning & he didn’t have any plans until then, so he became my
built-in 24hr travel-companion.
From Greenpark John & I took
a car over to an Airbnb I had set up for the night. I had wanted to experience
an in-home feel in Hyderabad, and the prices were incredibly low. Chose one for
its quirk and proximity to Hussain Sagar. It could also host like 14 people, and
I thought, perhaps I’d feel monied or that I’d make good friends and invite
them to stay in one of my numerous rooms...A large condo flat on the top floor
of a tall building with a purple kitchen & a big circle bed in the main. We
were welcomed by the host upon entry. Despite all the space, I felt unnerved
& a bit unsafe. I was glad the host had seen me arrive with John. We
dropped our bags and headed out on foot towards the lake.
To Telangana Martyrs Memorial –
built for the 369 students who died during the 1969 “agitation for a separate
Telangana state.”
To NTR Gardens – where we left
our sock & shoes at the front entrance & walked around N.T. Rama Rao’s
Memorial.
Past the Telangana Secretariat. To
the foot of the 125ft golden B.R. Ambedkar Statue. To Prasads Multiplex, whose
entry process included checking our personal bag, being scanned & body-searched
in a curtained room. Within: a movie theatre with popcorn in glass cases & garra
rufa (fish pedicures). Walking around Khairatabad, past vendors & sweet
shops before landing at the Central Court Hotel off Lakdi Ka Pul Rd. for 650 mL
Kingfishers & a bowl of warm peanuts. Men smoked, drinking from a tabled
whiskey. Ordered another round. Walked back to the Airbnb, where we’d hang
until John left for the airport. Slept fitfully on the circle bed, the air-conditioning
unit dripping a puddle on the floor at the foot.
TUE 11/7
Woke in the circle, the hazy
skyline from the open window. Quick cold shower, Uber to Taj Krishna to drop
bags and meet Kallin & his dad for further explore.
To Charminar: “four minarets,” a
monument constructed in 1591. Popular & thickly busy. The Laad Bazaar, the
richly ornamented Makkah Masjid. Sweet green cane juice.
To Chowmahalla Palace: of the
Nizams of Hyderabad State. Seat of power of the Asaf Jahi dynasty (1720-1948). Converted
to museum (the family still owns it). The grand Khilwat (Durbar Hall) with its
19 enormous chandeliers of Belgian crystal. Afzal Mahal, Mahtab Mahal, Tahniyat
Mahal & Aftab Mahal are built symmetrically opposite to each other, and are
in the Neoclassical style. Each have double heighted verandahs/facades lined
with European-style columns (Iconic order and Corinthian columns). The clock
tower or Khilafat clock, 3 storeys high, in Mughal style & ticking since
1750. “An expert family of horologists winds the mechanical clock every week.”
A collection of vintage cars includes a 1911 yellow Rolls-Royce & a 1937
Buick convertible, used by the Nizam Kings.
To Salar Jun Museum on the
southern bank of the river Musi: 50 for Indians, 500 for Foreigners; 39 galleries span 3 buildings. Originally the
private collect of the Salar Jung family, it was endowed to the nation after
the death of Salar Jung III. Collections range from 2nd c BC to
early 20th c AD. 46,000 art objects, 8,000 manuscripts, 60,000
printed books. Indian (miniature & modern paintings, bronzes, textiles,
ivory, jade, bidri ware, arms & armour, stone scultpures, wood carvings,
metal-ware, manuscripts), Middle Eastern/Persian (carpets, manuscripts,
ceramics, glass, metal-ware, furniture, lacquer, a range of figurative &
narrative Persian carpets depicting stories of “Khusrau” is “among the prized
possessions of the museum,” Nepalese, Japanese/Chinese (porcelain, bronze,
enamel, lacquer-ware, embroidery, paintings, wood & inlay work) and Western
art (oil paintings, glass, ivory, enamel-ware, clocks). Considered to probably
host the largest collection of Bidri ware in the world. “The most treasured
masterpiece of the museum is the ‘Veiled Rebecca,’ a marble sculpture by G B.
Benzoni bought by Salar Jung I when he visited Italy in 1876.” There’s a
children’s section with a myriad of objects (train from the early 20th
century, toy armies, etc). In trying to absorb, exhaustion set in.
Uber’d from the Taj to the
airport. Flight 1 – HYD to DUBAI. Dinner of lentil & bean chaat w/ savory
mix, Hariyali murgh with steamed basmati rice, vegetable kadai (mushroom,
cauliflower, paneer, potato in spicy gravy with coriander rice, Kesar chum chum
(saffron flavored cottage cheese sweet) & chocolate. Watched Scrapper,
winner of the Grand Jury Prize at Sundance. Napped across empty seats.
Marhaba Lounge for 8 hours
reading Rupi Kaur’s The Sun & Her Flowers over a red wine, a white. Hummus,
grilled tomato, a small bowl of olives, flat whites, a nap. Washed face. Light
breakfast. Tech store for a battery pack, India having killed the juicing
powers of my phone, or the cords. Explored Dubai airport. Throat growing sore.
The last flight DUBAI > SEA.
14 hours 40 minutes. Purchased extra leg room. A cold plate of houmous, anari
& red Leicester with tomato & cucumber, grilled chicken medallion and
scrambled eggs with sauteed mushrooms, tomato-pepper sauce and shredded
potatoes, crepes with custard, berry compote & fried raisins, cashews,
pistachios, fresh fruit, shell pasta salad with sun-dried tomato pesto, olives,
peppers, chicken joojeh kabob with tomato sauce & saffron rice, bhindi
masala with spiced okra, ghee & curried lentils with garlic. Dessert of
apple caramel mousse & vanilla ice cream with biscuit crumble. Finished
with the Emirates vegetarian pizza.
After a week of no progress with
my calf, I went in for imaging. They made me do (as they do) the dumb ass XR
first, then an MRI which showed a Grade II tear of both the soleus & gastroc.
Wild the gastroc went too, as friend of the sprinter, and sprinting was the
opposite of what I was doing in India. Best case scenario – I’d be out for a
few weeks. Worst case scenario – I’d be out for a few months, and my shot at
the Trials standard would be over.
Extraneous Notes:
At the time of this trip the Indian Rupee (INR) is:
1 INR = 0.012 USD
1 USD = 83.01 INR
*1 INR is subdivided into 100 paise
