omg I did it. I still can't believe I did it. Seems like a different life, except for the fact I feel like a paraplegic now so it must be this one. Twas the single most physically, mentally and emotionally draining experience of my life. Ir was the one time looking fwd to post-challenge reqrds was became obselete at one point.

First of all a personal best for the marathon. So yes abit stupid but it gave me the leeway to believe I could finish the second half cos I had enough time to do it. a 5 hour split allowed me 8 hours to do the second 42 and gosh starting out on that second 42 was one of the hardest things to will yourself too. Hardest that is until I was midway through the race. Az one of the 84 runners said aloud to everyone at the halfway mark "the race starts here"

The endurance that you need for this double marathon is crazy. The thought of having so much to complete on the first round was nothing compared to the sheer physical beating you have to endure to get through the second round. At the 10km mark on the second round my run-walk tatic ceased to work as my body just couldn't jog except for 5-10 metre intervals. I tried to keep my mind french by constantly calculating running, or should I say, walking pace but more imptly it kept the belief that I could finish it by cut off going. By the time I hit east coast I was in agony. The soles of my feet had started to blister and every part of my body was starting to ache and putting one foot in front of the other and praying the next route marker would come sooner rather than later the only thing to focus on.

As I was on east coast, one of the caucasian runners in front of me saw his wife who was waiting for him to pass with simply a hug. Up at 3am waiting for her husband was quite touching and coincidentally I also saw him passing his family in the first round about 6 hours earlier when the wife had brought their kids to cheer their daddy on and give him support. I thought about how wonderful it was to have support like that.

At the halfway mark, I passed Kel, who was in sheer pain himself and though it gave me impetus cos I was on the second round unlike him, the bridge over ecp to the siglap park connector dispelled all such, albeit, temporary pride. My junior Vanita who I last daw way back at 7pm jogged past me and stopped to chat when she saw me. Gosh it was amazing she had kept going at a constant pace. I had finish a full half hour before her for the 42 but her consistency meant she was still going (and as she revealed later the conditioning helped). She encouraged me with the fact that her mum was at kembangan mrt with milo and grapes and there'd be extra if I wanted and that certainly got me incentivised to finish the next 3km as soon as possible, which is not very fast at all! Got there and her brother was there as well and the unexpected treat certainly cheered me despite my growing exhaustion.

Crossing over to Bedok, my body really started shutting down. Abrasion on my inner thighs, blisters growing ever more painful, muscles cramping at every step, and my mind was getting tired as well. Thoughts of the finish line relief and my baby kept me going. Plus it helped that this nice uncle gave me some balm for the chafing when he noticed I was grabbing the shorts between my legs "You do like that, can only be one thing. press on" Little things that keep u going..

Finishing bedok reservoir, my ankle and feet had started throbbing uncontrollaby. I thought taking off my socks and lathering deep heat like I did at the midway point but by this time I could feel the blisters were more than sizeable and changing things up like that risked the chance that I couldn't walk on. I rubbed deep heat down my feet as far as my fingers, which were abit retarded now, could go. My hands had started to get swollen and I noticed I couldn't clench anymore. At that 29km rest stop, I didn't feel like getting up. and when I finally did it was more than agony, more than pain, more than anything I had felt before. and I still had 13km to go.

My pace had slowed considerably as even walking was challenging now. The pain on the right of my right ankle was intensifying and the deep heat had stop helping as an analgesic. I pressed on and by the time I hit tampines avenue 9, my muscles took turns cramping up to a bind such that I had to stoop for the simple reason I couldn't move even if i tried to grit through the pain;. My mental functions were narrowing tooand I could only concentrate on willing one foot then the other and trying to block out the myriad of screams from various parts of me. I was an emotional wreck too as all my control was gone in light of my state. I sobbed at one point thought only few tears came out due to my dehydration. The mere thought of my loved ones made me emotional and all my demons in terms of being lonely and uncared for ran rampant as my rationality ran amok. I texted my baby to keep my sanity and focus on the fact she'd be there at the end. Her text at the halfway mark making a world of difference to me, and sleeping now I craved for her to be with me.

On the connector next to the tampines canal, I unexpectedly see Kaijun from my JC council. He runs marathons too and he was there with some running club of his giving support to their club mates. He came to me and offered drinks and support. I patted him thank you but I couldn't even think about stopping and drinking at this point. I hobbled on while but not before he managed to snap a picture. I pressed on.

Crossing the bridge over TPE, I collapsed onto a bench after I got down. I was in total distress. Nothing I did gave me any comfort any more and O pictured how I would be found on that bench paralysed by exhaustion. I made a deal to get up when 5 84 runners passed me. I couldn't get up. So I said 10 84 runners after. I couldn't move. I let myself rest for another 5 minutes then pushed myself up using my arms and somehow my legs supported my weight. Across the footbridge (which shook and swayed under my feet) I trudged on. I passed the 35Km mark. At this point even the thought of it being only 7 more km was no incentive as my muscles were screaming bloody murder and taking each step was sheer torture because of the humongous blister beneath my soles. I was slower than an old man at this point, literally cos an old man witha cane passed me :p

I somehow managed to get through pasir via another rest stop just past downtown east and en route I passed another ex-jc council soon tuck who cheered me to finish it. I could see loyang avenue now but that 800metere upslope was in the way. Step by agonising step somehow I made it and nearing the top I saw a familiar figure. His large frame and arms akimbo was distinct. "Darrell" I called. He didn't hear. Despite my pain I quickened my step, or so it seemed to me. But eventually I got there. It WAS him. It was good to see a familiar face, and someone who understood exactly what I was going through. Together, we hobbled on. One step at a time. It was a good advert for old age friendship, cos we seriously looked worse than the ah pek anywhere.

The sun was up and starting to beat down on us by now. Loyang Avenue seemed like the longest road in Singapore. It was crazy just walking on hoping to see the Cranwell Rd turn. We stopped at the 39km mark busstop. I seriously consideeed not going on bacause I was totally spent. Past energy, dried up the battery reserve and adrenalin was used up going past pasir ris. Although we had a good 2 hours to finish up the little over 3km and that was more than enough time, I didn't think I could get through the distance itself at this point.

Against my better judgment, we got up and inched on. Little by little. All I was thinking was how silly it'd be if I didn't finish being this close to the end but on the other I Knew how possible it was that my body, especially my legs, would shut down and I imagined needing to crawl to get to the end. I tried to think about other things. The pride of finishing, relief of the finish line and seeing my girl that I missed so much there at the end to hug me and take care of me in my sorry state.

Netheravon Road. Never have I been so glad to see a road sign. I walked on the road to avoid the up-and-down of pavements and at this point I was more than gone. I told darrell to go ahead and it became a personal struggle to achieve this. 1km to go but the longest km of my life. My blistered were squishing and swirling as every step. I turned into the final straight ready to hit that narrow footbridge to the end, but no!! They changed the final route. We had to make a right turn and flank for 500metres! Madness!

So close to the end, I just willed myself somehow. Every applause from onlooker giving me that bit of strength. I got to the yellow railing. Vanita was there, all changed up having finish almost an hour earlier, Like a little sister she cheered on the old man, along with the rest of the crowd at the finish. I broke into a jog, a really slow jog, driven by the crowd, and hoping my girl would be there at the end to take my picture. I crossed the line where this bloke snapped a shot. I was spent, I was lost, I was blank.

Ushered to the finishers area, I collected my just-rewards and collapsed. I did it.

It was the most challenging experience of my life. And I overcome it.

I cried, overcome by the emotion and the relief.

I did it.