The Marathon Experience

1. Preface: Before the marathon

I had long longed for winning a marathon.

Every part of it sounds amazing, from the thousands that attend to the rarity of the event. It is held once every season, where the top 500 can get a beautiful trophy specially placed on their lichess profile. Even the description of the tournament, saying 'the legendary 24 hour tournament' fails to fully describe the prestige of the event. My last participation ended in a sub-par performance with more blunders than the blitz rating I lost. It was years ago, and I was convinced that I had improved just enough to change the narrative. I wanted to create a deep memory that would last a lifetime, one that would not end in disappointment.

I was lucky to stumble upon, months ago, the date of the event. It was held on the 28th of December, the perfect time when I could leverage my school holiday to do whatever I wanted. I saved the link for the tournament and grew my anticipation as the days drew near. However, marathons aren't easy to win. On average, there would be 15-20k of people joining. To win top 500, you need to reach the <3% percentile (not a love). That requires focus and determination.

---

2. Prerequisites

I must make clear that not everyone wins marathons. For example, no complete beginner can just join and expect a trophy. Unless they cheat, they would have a tough time. The average opponent in the top 500 would be of 2000+ rating, and you need to face them with good winning chances. At the end of the day, it comes down to your ability to play long hours and your ability to endure losses.

The 'prerequisites', or rules to win, boiled down to: play good chess, play slow chess. The rest was up to luck.

---

3. Summary:

I can describe the tournament in two words. Logarithmic curve. Say 80% of my points were earned with 20% of the time. The rest were tons of losses due to growing fatigue. I had a good start, and then I lost many games, becoming the punching bag of the lobby for the remainder of the time. I could have taken a break, and really should have rested, yet my addiction to losing prevented me to do the right thing. I still got the top 500 placement, but I could have gotten further if I managed my time smarter.

4. Greatest losses ranked

I respect my opponents. I do hold them in high regard of them choosing chess even though there's definitely better alternatives. However, sometimes, I hate how my blunders can be capitalised SO EASILY!!! It's really rage-inducing when your opponents play perfectly and see moves I don't see.

When I say ranked, I meant just showing three instances. I lost plenty of times and these two are the only ones that managed to seem 'beautifully disgusting' instead of pure one-sidedness.

The second runner-up goes to my game against Shreyam_2007 (2500)
The mating position speaks for itself.

How did I blunder so badly? How did my king even get there? How did my opponent find this? I'm at a loss for words at how disgusting this checkmate is

The runner-up goes to my game against Arternesq (2040)

Imagine being up a rook. Your opponent has a MATE in 6. He blunders. He doesn't see it, you didn't see it. Now you respond to his blunder, with another blunder. This time, you're handing your opponent a win on a silver platter. -5.6 to MATE IN 1 in one move and you lose up so much material. At least the checkmate was neat. I'm really that bad at chess that the only thing I'm good at is losing.

The champion goes to my game against Lightlike (2500)

When you think being a queen up is enough to secure a win, think again. Imagine saccing a rook to mate with 3 minor pieces. And imagine not seeing that until the last second.

---

5. Long essay

I started the day with a 7-hour nap before 8 am. I remember feeling groggy, remnant mists of dreams lingering in my half-awaken head. As I brushed my teeth and ate breakfast, I felt energy beginning to course through my veins. I was ready to fight all day.

As the 24-hour countdown started, I initiated my tournament with a stunning streak. It was a personal best, winning 9 out of 10 games with a phenomenal performance. Even though I knew that would be hard to maintain, I felt proud of my initial top 50 ranking. Unfortunately, the streaks of wins came to an abrupt end as I kept blundering pieces game after game. Despite the growing frequency of losses, I pushed forward with a steady pacing. Before I knew it, I reached 60 points.

Here is some background information about marathons. Marathons usually range from bullet to 3+2 blitz, 5+3 being one of the rarest time controls. The last time this happened was 7 years ago, where you needed 80 points for top 500. To get top 100, you needed only 210 points. Imagine winning 40 games without relying on streaks in a single day to get a trophy. Sounds easy, right? I felt motivated as I crawled closer and closer to 80 tournament points.

Streaks became a rare occurence at that point, during the 3 to 5 hour mark of the tournament. I would have to lose multiple games before initiating an unimpressive streak, which would then come to an abrupt end. Yet I enjoyed every last victory as I sailed past the 80-point checkpoint. I was more than half-certain to win a random game, to be able to best a random opponent. I felt I could accomplish more than 80 points.

As the trumpets of victory became distant, infrequent hums, I decided to eat my lunch. It was a short break, really. I found it hard to escape my chess addiction, playing even while eating. They were all losses, though. :(

I kept eyeing the leaderboard every so often, hoping for a miracle that didn't exist. Without streaks, I simply could not hold my position. My rank and win rate slipped slowly but steadily; I slipped from top 50 steadily to top 80, whereas my win rate became 60+% instead of 90%. Playing felt like scaling a smooth icy mountain barefoot, each step sliding me further down, and making progress was nigh impossible.

I was extremely lucky to catch a good streak some time after that. I peaked at 32nd out of thousands, before the whirlpool of losses pulled me back and held me breathless, drowning in the sea of zeroes. At the 12-hour mark, I boasted a whopping 130 points even though each point felt harder to obtain than the last. In hindsight, what I needed most was rest, instead of an unrelenting pursuit. I believe that all my points after this point came from separate wins, while I lost 2 out of 3 games.

I remember having to grind hours only for a handful of tournament points, while my inflated elo began to descend into oblivion. I stopped my meaningless chase of rank at half past midnight, seeing as there was no point to keep losing. One thing to note was that I ended my playing session with a win. I couldn't sleep well otherwise.

Before shutting down my phone, I opened an alarm for 5.30 am, planning to play from then on until 8 am when the tournament ends. Once I finally pressed the off button, the dark of the night instantly blanketed my eyesight. Only then had I realised I had been playing for long hours using the light from my phone's LED screen. I closed my exhausted eyes, letting the darkness surrounding me seep inwards...

Before I woke up, I dreamt of chess. I dreamt of swiping a screen of 64 squares, ruminating about positions I didn't know my subconscious generated. My tired mental state refused to believe it was a dream. My alarm went off for who knows how long before an annoyed and lazy hand was sent to slap its snooze button. Deep down, I knew I couldn't play chess any longer. I was too tired, the fatigue invading into spiritual territories. There comes a point where you play too much chess, and I think I had crossed that point sometime during the 17 hours I spent relentlessly playing on my phone in a frenzy.

My journey ended before I even woke up. I ended the tournament with 216 points with a 228th placing. It wasn't bad, but deep down I knew I could have done better. I could have utilised my time well, or focused more intensely in crucial positions instead of premoving everything. I had countless flaws that ruined the dream of getting top 100, including a lack of rest, lack of proper prior sleep, lack of tactical acumen, lack of focus, among many others. Yet I got the trophy, which was still a huge accomplishment to me. YAY!

I woke up late in the morning at 8.03 am. I still was groggy from the poor sleeping hours, trying to make sense of things. Why didn't I gain any points from the positions I played in my dreams? That didn't make any sense at all....

Sometimes marathons aren’t about testing your skill, but how much you want to win. And that day, I wanted to win pretty badly. Even though I suffered more losses than wins.