What was it that made me register for the Hyderabad Heritage Marathon? Perhaps it was the need to challenge myself to another such distance. I have been training and putting in 30k run since February, after I completed my first marathon. I had been erratic but since June, I was more consistent and wanted to run a 42k.

In July, I called my friend and colleague in Hyderabad and he told me October would be a good month. I quickly registered and assessed I had little time, but wanted to squeeze in at least two 35k runs, hopefully on back to back Sundays. But after my first 35k, the next week was KTM and thereafter was Raj’s 100k. I wanted to run 18 kms with Raj, instead ended up doing 33.

I was set for Hyderabad and after putting to bed the first edition on Friday, I took the Hussain Sagar Exp from CSTM in second class sleeper. The journey was difficult, but I had an upper berth and I slept (or lay flat) as much as possible.

After reaching Hyderabad, collecting my bib in a jiffy, checking into the Fateh Maidan Club, I wandered in search of Hotel shanbhag. I was hungry after a long time. I was sent this way and that, finally after 30 minutes of walking, I found the place and found it good. The veg thali was sumptuous. A good two hour sleep later, I was feeling fresh.

A visit to my Hyderabad office was followed by tucking in another Shanbhag thali, I ready to retire at 9.30pm.

But sleep is always at a premium the night before the marathon. I finally dozed off and woke up at 1 am. But thereafter, I hardly slept as I fiddled around.

Finally woke up at 2.35 and started doing things. At 3.00 I was almost ready, and realized I would be too early. Finally I left around 3.30 am and found that there were no buses from Nizam College. Frantically I was flagging down every rickshaw.

One rick finally stopped a little ahead and I met this occupant who told me I appeared a runner and wanted to help me. The world is so small indeed. The gentleman (Rajesh) turned to be from Mumbai and from Mulund, my neighbouring suburb!!!

We reached Chowmohallah Palace and it was breathtakingly beautiful. It was a quadrangle with little domes with lovely lawns laid out in the centre. It was dressed for a wedding, only that guests were in their dri-fit shorts and vests!

I met Vishwas Bhamburkar and his friend, Piyush Shah (who is running a 25km distance everyday for 100 days). Just then Milind Soman walked by and our greetings made him stop and talk to us as if we were his long lost friends.

Finally at 5.10 am, we were off and the first sight was that of the Magnificent Charminar. We runners were dwarfed by the hundreds of years of history the monuments had locked in its walls. The brilliantly lit Charminar came perhaps too early, within the first 500m.

As we made our way through typical lanes, which only hours ago must have been selling delicious kababs and malpua, I realized that this will be only of the most lonely marathons. Only about 70 had lined up and about 20 odd were elite athletes whom we are not going to see again.

Around the 2km mark, I entered the compounds of another monument. As I slowly shuffled around, darkness was the only company.

Soon that too would vanish as I was more east in the country than Mumbai. Sun started its morning run far to early for a man who lived all his life on the west coast.

I was looking forward to run on the necklace road, the road adorning the Hussain Sagar lake, but the Dasera revelers made it horrible. But runners are a tough breed and the more they are heckled, the more determined they become.

I was soon running behind two women and a man. They were Anu, Sunitha and Ram from Hyderabad. Ran about 5-7 kms before Anu took off. By the 17kms mark, the sun was out in its morning glory. I stopped at a water station and the eager volunteer offered me a sweet-lime (mosumbi) and said: ``Sir, have an orange”

I finally caught up with Anu and realized that I was running very well. I had never had a plan to run this marathon and I went by instincts. I was feeling good and strong.

But from Km 18, began the trouble with traffic. I was at a cross road a biker went agonizingly close. A little ahead a car almost brushed past me. Then, a tum-tum, cut into my path and he got a bucketful of abuse from the cops.

Usually, marathoners hit the wall around the 30k mark. As we waded past the horrible traffic, I started feeling the similar woozy feeling at around the 20k mark. By now the little elevations had started appearing, making it more or an irritant.

But I had the strength and ploughed on. By the 24^th or the 25^th km mark, we were in the stretch that had no shade and the sun’s version of stir fry had begun.

By the 26^th km, I had started a run-brisk walk-run routine. By the 30^th Km, the sun was really beating down. I felt cooked and ready to be devoured.

Km 32 mark gave me hope: I would finish this marathon somehow. Dipping under 4.30, doing my personal best were now out of my minds. The only satisfaction remained in doing it under 5 hours. But FINISH was paramount.

As I turned, and headed into the sun, the slight headwind worked in my favour. When I passed Km 35, I felt a strange kind of energy. I felt good enough to increase my strides in between the smaller brisk walks.

Km 39 mark was welcome. As I took the final left and turned to run past another magnificent monument, I knew I had 24 minutes to run the remaining 3.2 kms and I could do it. But Km 40 to 42 was eternally long. As I plodded uphill, the problem was finding route on the twisty roads that lay ahead. I had to ask at every turn and turns were coming thick and fast.

Finally, I met some runners and they guided me through a gate. How much more I asked: ``Only 200m more’’. I was glad, I could easily dip in past my PB.

But I was to get four or five more such replies. 200m seemed like a mile.

PB was put to dust. I agoinised at every step, more out of frustration than pain. Finally I saw another gate and saw the finish arch and knew for sure this was the finish.

I missed the PB, but for the subtly-tough route, it was good going.

City marathons are all about its residents. Mumbai takes the cake, the residents whether they are from the fishermen’s colony in Worli or the elite at Peddar road, come out in full force and even wait for the 6-hour finishers.

Hyderabad was dead, nay hostile also at times. I was cheered by six people through the 42km journey, or was it seven: Two cops, two servicemen and two volunteers.