Why Ironman?

Ironman: a 140.6 mile single day race (or 226.2 km) 

(2.4 mile swim + 112 mile cycling + 26.2 mile run)

We are like a storage attic – yes, there are some very precious memories stored there that can bring our spirits up, awaken our old dreams, help discover the lost ‘us’, help us to move forward at the time of despair; but let us face it, most of the things in that attic are simply junk, accumulated over time. Unless all the junk gets cleared up, we will never see the precious things that the attic stores, may be a Monet painting bought by my great great grandpa – who knows! An Ironman Race (and the preparation for it), for me, functions as that act of clearing up the junk. And see within myself. Let me elaborate on this.

I am not masochistic. At least, I do not see myself as one. I am not trying to prove to myself or to anyone else that I can – i.e., I am not in this race for bragging rights. Then, why am I putting myself in this grueling event? Especially after I have completed one already, I am officially an ‘Ironman’, why am I trying to race it again? In fact, as far as I can see, I am not going to stop competing at Ironman races any time in the foreseeable future. 

More over, I will try to challenge myself with a more challenging time every time I bring myself to the start line. This means, I have to train non-stop with an average of 8000+ calories worth of exercise every week – for the foreseeable future! And, this is not my job! I do not earn a penny! And, I will not earn a penny – I am sure about that.

One of my friends asked me recently what I received at the end of the race. Well, I received a medal, a t-shirt, a water bottle, a cap and unlimited free food and drinks. My friend could not believe this. She asked again, “how long was the race?” I answered, “2.4 mile or 3.9 km swim in open water, immediately followed by 112 mile or 180 km cycling, immediately followed by a full Marathon, 26.2 mile or 42.2 km run. The race I did was on a hilly terrain and it took me around 12 hours to do all these.”

Why do I want to do this?

Let me start with how I started this, this journey of….hmmm….self-torture, as some would say. 

No, this is not self-torture. This was a conscious decision that I took in 2016, when things in my or our lives were not going in the most ideal way. I happened to meet Mustafa Abi (in Turkish, agabey or abi: elder brother), a family friend of ours. He finished several marathons, did Ironman races, and he was in his late 50s. He was trying to qualify for the Boston Marathon. Boston Marathon is a dream for most of the Marathoners with only 0.01% of runners ever making it – runners can get to the Start line of Boston Marathon or ‘qualify’ only with another marathon in their resume, with a crazy fast time. I knew about Boston Marathon. I met a guy few years ago, who qualified to run at Boston by completing a marathon at a pace of 6:50 min/mile (4:16/km). I could not run just one mile at that pace. I was awe inspired – this guy, with pretty much the same professional pedigree as myself, also runs 26.2 miles at that crazy pace, on the side! I came home, talked to my wife, expressed our mutual amazement to each other, and then let it pass. 

This was not the only thing that inspired me, and I talked about it, and I let it pass. Pretty much everything that inspired me, I, perhaps, let them all pass. I always felt, “that is not for me”. Or, I just said ‘no’, it felt too out of the ordinary. These did not feel like something that anybody around me has been doing all through. (I never questioned: if most of the people around me were doing it, then it would not be inspirational, would it?)

But, in 2016, in the midst of my and our personal struggles, something hit me. I said, “no, I am not going to let it pass.” I wanted to experience my inspiration. I wanted to live the inspiration. At least, I would try to go as far as I could go.

So, I stood at Embarcadero, right outside our San Francisco home the very next day, and decided to run. I signed up for a marathon before the end of 2016. This would be my first ever race! I wanted to go sub-3 hours, which means running the 26.2 mile race under 3 hours, considered to be a formidable goal to most of the runners. For this, I would have to run the entire marathon at a pace of 6:55min/mile, which is also called sub-3 pace. I could not run my first marathon at sub-3 pace, but I was darn close. I finished in 3 hours 15 min. I realized a couple of mistakes that I did in my training. I ran my next marathon within three months, and yes, I qualified for Boston, however I did not hit a sub-3 time. By the end of 2017, at my 3rd marathon, I finished very comfortably under 3 hours! Yes, I became a “sub-3-hour marathoner”, I ran 26.2 miles at a pace of 6:45min/mile.

2017 was a crazy year for us. Our rental lease at our subsidized San Francisco apartment ran out in June. We figured that if we do not rent an apartment, and instead, travel to my wife’s parents’ place in Cyprus and my parents’ place in India, and if we travel in Turkey and India, then, we would actually save money. So, we got rid of our furniture, stored all of our books and our car at two of our family friends’ homes. We moved out of our apartment at 10 AM on a Tuesday in mid June, and were in a flight to Cyprus with one-way tickets at 2 PM. 

Cyrpus, Turkey and India did some magic on us. I felt the Mediterranean life. I felt the flow of humanity while crossing the Bosphorus in Istanbul; touched it while standing in front of the pillar, in Istanbul, congratulating travelers for completing their long journey through Silk Route; been touched by it inside a nondescript cave in rural Goya, in India, at Sujata Stupa just across the river from the cave, and finally under that famous fig tree (Bodhi tree) across the river from the Sujata Stupa: Buddha sat in that cave for several years and came out in utter despair, disappointed with himself, then crossed the river, dejected, and received milk and rice to eat from an ordinary village lady called Sujata. This simple act of humanity brought back his good memories and his spirit. He took a ferry across the river and sat under that fig tree, and could crystalize what he was yearning for, for years, what he left his home, his wife and his newborn child for. He turned from an ordinary man, Siddhartha, into ‘the person who gained all the knowledge’, or Buddha.

In the fall of 2017 we came back to the US, and surprisingly our life started taking very positive turns. When I stood at the start line of the marathon in December, with the sun rising, and I took the very first step across that start line, I knew, this was going to be a sub-3 pace. I looked within myself and felt the abundance of love and support that I have from people I know, and from people I was yet to know. I felt so light! I felt like my feet were flying. And, I could live through the experience of my own source of inspiration – a sub-3-hour marathoner.

Then came Ironman! 140.6 miles with my muscles in a single day! I learned swimming just a few years ago from the internet. If I swam just 500 m, with 20 breaks, I would feel awesome! I never rode a real road bicycle. I am afraid of water. I mean, there is no way that getting into a race that serves a 4 km swim in open water as the starter, is a right direction in life. Especially, not when one can pursue this endeavor only during the spare hours of their days after doing a full-time job. But as I said, I was sick and tired of just putting my inspirations up on the wall in a picture frame.

Thus in August, 2019 I crossed the finish line of Ironman Mont-Tremblant (Canada), when Mike Riley, the “Voice of Ironman”, announced “Siddhartha Das, you are an Ironman, Siddhartha”. The race began with the sunrise at 7:00 in the morning. When I crossed the finish line, it was past 7:00 in the evening. 

I felt like my body had gone through a complete transformation. By the 3rd mile of marathon, my entire right leg became as hard as a piece of wood, a single piece that is, and decided not to bend at the knee any more. The left one was signaling that it would follow suit soon. I had another 23.2 miles to go using those legs. I started calculating in my mind, where  23.2 miles would have taken me had I started from my childhood home in Kolkata – I felt that it would take me much further than my village home in Hooghly (and, later I checked, I was right!). Well, that felt scary. It never occurred to me that my village home is within walking or running distance from our home in Kolkata! So, I started thinking something, you know, less scary, a more manageable distance. I realized that this would be going around the Golden Gate Park three times, and then a walk back to our San Francisco home. Now that is less scary! The Golden Gate Park did not look too big to go around three times – well, in my mind I was visualizing the Golden Gate Park as one can see it on the Google map, and, you know, it seemed to me as this small elongated green rectangle in San Francisco. However, I have run around the Golden Gate Park numerous times, and I know going around the park three times is not exactly an easy stroll. Even on my best days, that run required me to start quite fresh and I would finish quite trashed.

So, what should I do? I realized my preparation for the race was not sufficient. Or, the race is really, really brutal. It is at a different level compared to my only other endurance events, my marathon races. I was physically depleted by that 3rd mile of marathon. Now, I needed to cover all of the hilly terrains for the next 23 plus miles. Mentally – I was scared. I was demoralized. I felt that I am not ready for this. My eyes started drifting, in case I can spot some medical volunteers. Should I give up?

Mind is funny. Apparently, Buddha said that mind is like a monkey, jumps around restlessly. Well, I suppose sometimes it jumps to a very good brunch with a lot of fruits! My mind shifted to the earliest of my childhood memories – how I used to run to the village school with our neighbors – I was not old enough to go to a school – but our neighbors, who were my playmates were going to school – so I just used to run behind them to the school when they would go. There was no formal school admission during that time. After all, it was just a shade under which two or three teachers were teaching a bunch of kids. The teachers knew the age of every kid. They would sit them accordingly, and teach them according to their level – needless to say, I just used to get a small black slate and some chalks to write whatever. But the fun part was that I would run with all my friends to wherever they were going. With this thought, I think, I started chuckling, perhaps, with some tears in my eyes. These were the tears of nostalgia. I remembered that our village home did not even have a bathroom in the house – and from there this is where I have come to: from being taught under a shade, to being taught at the hallowed classrooms at Yale. From running with friends, many of whom, now, are peasants back in the village, to dining and sometimes exercising with Nobel laureates. It has been a long way. But, will I be able to continue?

And then, my mind drifted to the thoughts of my wife. I saw her just about 20 minutes before, after my cycling and at the start of my marathon. But now it felt like I saw her in another era. An era, when I had two, kind-of-moving legs.

I realized that my parents did give me my limbs to pull through, to climb the hills, cross the water. And, my wife gave me eyes to dream the future, inspired me to be inspired with nothing but a dream. A dream about a future that could be completely vague, but just a shining light. She inspired me to accept the fact that I have no clue about the future. Does not matter how meticulously I plan about a future, that is just good to boost my ego. Future is unknown. I can only dream. And as I am dreaming, it is good to dream of shining lights. This would give me the strength to strive, diligently, with the task at hand. And, this would also keep me smiling as if I am just having fun, like she does.

No, I did not think so clearly at that moment, but I felt the strength in my limbs and drawn towards that dream of shining lights. Truly, I do not remember much of the rest of 23.2 miles of road. I just remember that I told myself that I should strive diligently, pushing through all the upcoming hills. The current stage of my life sucks, but if I strive, I would move to the future, and I will touch the dream that will no longer be a dream, but will be a door with shining lights.

Thus a simple race helped me live through my inspiration, to see inside of myself. Since then the life has never been the same for me. My training now has become a preparation for having a clear mind during the next chance to see within myself. My training has become a preparation to become that person whom I always find inspiring – put everything that they have to strive forward and do better than how they have done before. Yes, I know, I will not win an Ironman – I might find Chrissie Wellington, or Daniela Ryf or Jan Frodeno inspiring, but most of us will never become them. No, the sight of them is not inspiring because they are the winners. It is inspiring, because it is a show of a human being giving everything that they have, going through all the difficulties in their mind and body, and striving through it. Digging deep and finding something deep down themselves to tell themselves to strive diligently. Digging deep, so that they can find something with which they can do better than how they ever did, better than how they or anybody had, even, imagined doing.

The Ironman race is simply a race to me. As I said, I will never become an Ironman Champion. Therefore, in one sense, I do not have any expectation of any commercial return from this endeavor. This helps me release myself from my professional endeavors where, the hope of returns and disappointment or fulfillment, often, steer what I see in the mirror. A mirror, just by itself, does not make one pretty. It is a platform based on which one can make changes as they wish. The same applies to meditation – the rule of meditation is emptying one’s mind first; if we try to be rational about this, shouldn’t we, instead think, all the time, about the problems? Meditation, just like a mirror, provides a platform. The Ironman and the training becomes a platform like meditation or a true mirror. A ‘mirror’, which strips me off all my armors and pushes me to see within myself – do I have what it takes to live my inspiration? Do I have what it takes to strive with all my strength to better myself? Can I overcome the wrong thoughts that I have garnered and considered precious for too long?

And, from what I see in this ‘mirror’, hopefully, I will make myself an inspiration in my life. From what I see in this ‘mirror’, hopefully, I will find the strength to strive for the dream of future with shining lights. And, finally, indeed finally, I hope the inspiration in myself and the lights from that future will inspire and lighten up some more, other than myself.