QUEENS, NEW YORK, June 18–August 11, 2000—It’s the Fourth of July, and I have just completed 1,000 miles of my fourth Sri Chinmoy 3100-Mile Race.

I am celebrating Independence Day by singing, as I run, all the songs about America that I know, especially “This Land Is Your Land, This Land Is My Land.” Right now, for me and for three other runners, “this land” is a .5488-mile loop of sidewalk around a school and park just off the Grand Central Parkway in Queens, New York City, a course that has remained unchanged since the race’s inception in 1997. Circling this loop 5,649 times in just over seven weeks will take me to my goal.

HUMBLE BEGINNINGS

I loved to run as a child (so my father relates), but apart from school soccer, my high school and college years were nonathletic. During those years, I spent endless hours sketching and defining my world with a paintbrush.

I started running and meditating at the same time I met Sri Chinmoy in 1978 and began to follow his spiritual path. He has been my inner and outer coach for 22 years, and I credit any success that I have had in my running to his constant love, encouragement, and guidance.

GOING BEYOND

Sri Chinmoy is a man of prayer and meditation who achieves extraordinary things by identifying with the infinite. With his thousands of inspirational paintings, books, songs, concerts, and athletic events, he seeks to encourage people everywhere to go beyond their own preconceived limits.

For Sri Chinmoy, the number “31” has a special significance in that he was born in 1931. The following is an excerpt from Sri Chinmoy’s remarks after the first 3100-Mile Race in 1997:

“These 3100 miles remind us of one divine and supreme reality: we can and we must do everything at our command to transform the world of lethargy and unwillingness to be dynamic. Willingness to give, willingness to achieve, willingness to grow and glow should be the message of our souls. With our soul’s blessing we can and will fulfill our earthly life.”

3100 MILES IN 2000

On Father’s Day, June 18, 2000, three runners lined up with me at the start of the Sri Chinmoy 3100-Mile Race. Namitabha Arsic, 35, a railroad engineer from Yugoslavia, had completed the 3100 in his third attempt in 1999 and had returned for another round. Participating for the first time were John Wallis, 63, a retired educator and veteran ultrarunner from Ludington, Michigan, and Asprihanal-Pekka Alto, 29, an ultrarunning post office worker from Helsinki, Finland. I was the only woman to run.

On this first day, Sri Chinmoy arrived at the starting line and meditated soulfully for a few minutes, offering a silent blessing for our journey. At 6:09 A.M. the race clock started ticking, and we were off, amid the cheers of a few dozen friends and well-wishers. Although this was the smallest field of runners in the four-year history of the race, a very harmonious and supportive team spirit would carry us through the next seven weeks. The four of us ran together for a number of laps, but by the time the crowd of supporters had dispersed, each of us had settled into our own pace. The temperature was moderate that day, with some light rain. My prerace state of frozen anticipation had melted quickly, and I sought to establish an inner balance and peace for the long road ahead.

The last month before the race, because of duties at work, I had managed to run only a few miles a day. Gone this year was any notion of confidence based on a high-powered training regimen. As day 1 went on, just about every part of my body was expressing how it felt to be in constant motion all of a sudden. Yet, by around 9:30 P.M., I had completed 68 miles. I was delighted to see the team of two women who would come to pick me up and take me home for a very short night of massage and rest. For these friends of mine, Sanyogita and Bahula, this was an ultra also. For the fourth summer they were dedicating their after-work hours to my cause. Their cheerful spirits and soothing care I have greatly needed and deeply appreciated.

AGENDA: RUN

Over the next few days, a familiar pattern unfolded. I would cover 42 to 45 laps in the morning, then take a 20-minute break for rest and massage, thanks to my nurse friend Kritagyata. On the hottest days, I would welcome being immersed over my knees in a big, green bucket of ice water. Five minutes was enough to cool my feet and the heat rash on my legs.

In the afternoon I would run 36 to 38 laps, with another break around 5:00 P.M. for 15 to 20 minutes. In the evening, I would run enough laps to bring the day’s total to at least 112 laps, or 61.46 miles. If I could keep to this schedule, I would complete 3,100 miles within the time limit of 51 days.

HELP ALWAYS AT HAND

I was extremely fortunate to have Ivana, a young doctor from Yugoslavia, as my constant helper. She was there with whatever I needed in the way of drinks, supplements, and food—not to mention excellent care and advice. Ivana had also helped me in 1999, when New York had its hottest summer ever.

During that race, she had insisted that I take pinches of salt almost every lap to stay balanced in the 90+ degree temperature and extreme humidity. That really saved me, along with bags of ice that I wore under my hat from midmorning until late afternoon.

THE SCENERY

At one end of our concrete loop race course is Thomas Edison Vocational High School. During our summer-long race, we became keenly aware of the school’s schedule. For the runners, the students are moving obstacles to dodge as they head to school in the morning, then come shooting out of their classes in the early afternoon.

At the other end of the block is Joe Austin Park, with a large playing field; courts for handball and basketball; and a playground with swings, fountain, and jungle gym. There is a colorful scene in the summer evenings as the multicultural neighborhood spills out onto the courts and playground. One of my favorite moments while running along this side of the course was late one evening when the park was deserted. Out of the darkness came a deep, beautiful voice singing, “Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound . . .”

Even though the neighborhood scenery—including every crack in the sidewalk—quickly becomes very familiar, the inner landscape is constantly

changing. Much of the challenge of this race lies in going beyond the confines of the analytical mind. To really grasp the idea of covering the entire mega-distance of 3100 miles on concrete pavement would be enough to stop us dead in our tracks.

Instead, we must, and we can, remain focused on a single day at a time. The gradual progress we make toward the goal is a constant source of satisfaction. Life is very pure and simple on the race course. We are free from all obligations except moving forward. It is as if one’s entire being enters into a silent continuum—the timeless circular flow of the 3100-Mile Race.

1999 VERSUS 2000

Each year, the same race offers a different experience. In 1999, New York experienced its hottest summer on record. Nonetheless, I managed to keep to the 61-miles-a-day schedule through the first few heat waves, even when all the men slowed down. I was in the lead for a few weeks until Ed Kelley, the iron man from California, regained his strength. But toward the end, the heat and my exhaustion took quite a toll on me, and I had many falls—to the point that my breaks were like M*A*S*H episodes. Instead of massage, my entire 20 minutes would be taken up with cleaning and rewrapping my wounds! By the end of the race, the course felt like a battleground to me, and my mind was probably even more exhausted than my body.

In 2000, I was determined to have a different experience, and Sri Chinmoy gave me beautiful advice about remaining in the spiritual heart while running. This time as I circled the course, I tried to bring forward the enthusiasm and eagerness of a five-year-old child. When I focus only in my mind, I am aware of the striking of the pavement under my feet, the roar of the traffic, and aches and pains here and there. If instead I go into my heart, I find an endless supply of energy and sweetness. To run just for the joy of it is to discover that the miles are passing faster than if I watch the clock. This advice was invaluable to me as I ran.

THE SRI CHINMOY MARATHON TEAM

Every morning before dawn, the urban race camp is set up efficiently by members of the Sri Chinmoy marathon team, without whose dedication and love of their task there would be no race. Their constant cheerfulness and self-giving inspired me on a daily basis. The camp consists of two vans, a food-storage vehicle, portable toilets, and a lap-counting station under leafy trees. A refreshment table is spread with fruit and snacks. We runners are picked up from our accommodations and shuttled to the starting line each day of this stage race, and camp is “open” from 6:00 A.M. to midnight. After a few minutes to arrange our equipment and vitamins for the day, we observe a moment of silent meditation and then we are off!

A lap counter arrives, the first in a relay of Sri Chinmoy marathon team volunteers to keep track of our laps in three- to six-hour shifts. We start fresh every day, with laps counted from number 1. A scoreboard with our overall race mileage is continuously updated as the sun arcs across the sky.

FOOD: THE “JOY FACTOR”

Meals are brought at regular times during the day, and we usually walk while eating small quantities at a time from paper cups. Our nutritional needs change during the course of the race. Each runner has his or her own preference, but we all start out needing high-energy foods and seemingly endless gallons of liquid. After three weeks of running, everyone requires extra fat. By the fifth week, we all want the simplest, most familiar, and easily digested form of fuel. The healthful vegetarian meals provided by the Sri Chinmoy marathon team are excellent for runners.

Of course, there is always the “joy factor” as well. Ice cream becomes a regular daily feature. For me, soup is the ideal food. Poached eggs, vegetables, tofu and rice, and chapatti bread rolled up with spinach and cheese are all great.

Toward the end, when my weight was quite low, my friends would bring big sandwiches for me to enjoy as I went home at night, along with tiramisu. It is always a challenge to eat and run under these circumstances, and sometimes our helpers have to cleverly tempt us to consume as much fuel as we need.

THE UPS AND DOWNS OF THE ROAD

Two weeks into the race, all four of us were going strong. Asprihanal-Pekka took over the lead from Namitabha on day 14, and both passed the 1000-mile mark on day 16. The next day John and I completed our first 1000 miles on the Fourth of July—when I sang to celebrate my country.

On day 19, John, having inspired us with his two-week stretch of 63 miles per day, experienced back pain that reduced his pace to a walk for several days. The race quota of 50 miles per day was lifted in favor of his recovery. This was a turning point in his race, and he took it in a very positive way. He later commented that he had come to run a race, but instead he had had a life-transforming experience. There is a special strength that comes from cheerfully and bravely accepting what life has to offer.

The end of the third week marked a turning point for me as well. Because of weakness from ongoing stomach problems and a strain in my upper left thigh, my pace was slowing down. My daily mileage began to duck under 60 miles. It became clear to me that this year I would not be able to stay on pace like clockwork.

A new challenge was emerging: not to give up on the goal of 3100 miles but to accept my slower pace and maintain a happy state of consciousness in the face of my smashed pride. Gradually, the importance of how many laps I could complete each hour was being replaced by how much gratitude I could feel just to be a part of the race and how much gratitude I could offer to all those who were helping me through it.

As in the other summers I spent on this race course, I would pass much of the time singing as I ran. Sri Chinmoy has written many beautiful devotional songs and songs about running, and these made up my repertoire. However, this year I added a few compositions of my own. Some were fun, written for the friends who were helping me. One listed all my helpers by name and ended with the words: “They come to pick me up and take me to the race in the morning; without them I would still be snoring.”

One song in particular was significant because I had transcended the mental exhaustion of my 1999 battleground experience. The words of that song were: “This is sacred ground, not a battlefield. My Lord Supreme has walked this path.” As I ran, I was trying to feel God’s love and compassion with all my heart.

One Saturday toward the end of the race, I was running the slightly uphill stretch along the Grand Central Parkway when a young boy started walking next to me. Since we were moving at the same rate, I joked, “Either you’re walking fast or I’m running slow.” Then I added, by way of explanation, “We have been running for 41 days.”

The boy replied, “I’ve been walking for 14 years!”

Encounters like these with neighbors and even some pets from the surrounding community—some curious, some sympathetic, some strongly supportive—enlivened our rounds considerably.

THE END IS NEAR

Asprihanal-Pekka crossed the finish line first in 47 days, 13 hours, and 29 minutes. Namitabha was second in 48 days, 4 hours, and 18 seconds, transcending his 1999 time by an amazing 36 hours. John completed 2700 miles in 48 days, 14 hours, and 27 seconds.

It has become a tradition at the 3100-Mile Race for all the runners to stop running when one of our compatriots crosses the finish line. I felt tremendous delight and pride in each of my three running-brothers’ victories, though I had many miles still to run. The race time limit was extended for me to finish, and the last five days were almost like a separate event, as I was the only runner left on the course. Along came a heat wave, with three days of temperatures in the 90s and high humidity. My heat rash returned, and I was back in the big, green ice-water bucket during breaks.

Friends came out for my last evening of running and decorated the course with colorful banners. They set up festive candles to light the stretch before the finish line, which had been our starting line all those weeks earlier.

At 9:45 P.M. on August 11, 2000, I completed the Sri Chinmoy 3100-Mile Race in 54 days, 15 hours, 51 minutes, and 34 seconds, a very happy runner.

Inspiration

Sri Chinmoy, the founder of the Sri Chinmoy marathon team, is a perfect example of his own philosophy of continuous self-transcendence. When he turned 65 years old, his motto became: “Don’t retire, aspire.”

Throughout the summer of 2000, while we were running the 3100-Mile Race, Sri Chinmoy, at 69, was inspiring us as he lifted weights of 500, then 600, then 700 pounds. In October he set a record for the double dumbbell bench press by pressing 500 pounds with each arm simultaneously—a total of 1000 pounds.

He says: “There are no limits to our capacity because we have the Infinite Divine within us.”

This is one of his poems that inspired me during the race:

Run, run with your soul’s
Dynamism river flow.
You are bound to succeed
In everything that you want to do
And everything that you want to become.

& What I Learned From It

Run Not Alone. The most significant thing I have learned from running 3100 miles is that if I rely on my own capacity, I am nowhere. My mind struggles with fear and doubt and the seemingly endless distance. When I bring forward my heart’s enthusiasm and eagerness, a beautiful miracle takes place. I am not running alone! My friends—gratitude, faith, and humility—accompany me, and God’s compassion descends to carry me through the miles.

Spiritual Running. For me, these ultra races are not just athletic events but an integral part of my spiritual life. Learning to cope with pain and exhaustion is part of the process of reaching deeper and deeper within for the strength and determination to reach a long-sought goal. The difficulty is always surpassed by the inner thrill and joy that I feel while running. With his constant encouragement of my ultrarunning efforts, Sri Chinmoy is helping me to discover and fulfill my role in life. A greater satisfaction than that, I cannot imagine.

Editor’s note: While Suprabha’s story was being typeset and laid out, she was back on the 3100-mile course for the fifth time, becoming the only runner to have competed in all five of the mega-ultra races. Her time for 2001 was 52 days, 10 hours, 37 minutes, and 42 seconds.