Taming the Tiger

After missing the first two editions of the race due to laziness and your commitment to your beloved Bandra-NCPA, I jumped at the opportunity of running it when it was to be held in the third week of December, instead of the first week. After all I didn’t want to miss out on the opportunity to run in a city that’s close to my heart. No matter how much I thought I had run that area when i was in school could prepare me for the challenge that awaited on that cold winter morn.

So as you start off the race, albeit a few minutes late (which was actually a blessing since your friend got late to pick his mum, your mum and you), you’re trying your best to keep warm. You stand greeting each of the runners you know as a cold breeze freezes the air, making you quip that you should break into Let it go, cause a few minutes more and you would be Frozen (get it!). 

Well you run amidst the sea of reds (or was it maroon), the colour of the official race tee, and cadets, whose enthusiasm seemed to have traveled to their feet, adding a spring to it. They joked and greeted their superiors, took shortcuts (at times making you want to scold them), threw bottles in the air and caught them, while they ran, calling each other names. It felt like they were set free without supervision, just for a few hours, something I could empathise with cause that was exactly how I felt when we had cross country race (as it was call then). But yeah at times they would be unruly and wild and come in your way, but harmless

Now the road ahead was not easy and had its constant ups and downs and highs and low, which is why it is called rolling hills, and the race is called a challenge, but trust me that what would challenge you had not yet come. So you ran through INS Shivaji (first time you’ve been here even though you schooled in Lonavla and students came from there), around Monsoon Lake, and past Bushy Dam (which was without its famous crowd and falls).

You hit the the 10k mark and that’s when your challenge begins. You climb up unrelenting slopes, with its twists and turns, making running up Kanheri seem like a cake walk. Suddenly you have your poor feet screaming at your brains, what the hell were your thinking when you signed up for a 21k, couldn’t you just have done the 10k and gotten it over? But hey you can’t help yourself and walk away from challenge, after all how much would you run in BKC which, let’s face it, has become the most saturated and boring place to run. So you undertake the arduous climb, with your feet cursing you at ever step, and you trying to block them out of your head, commanding them to shut up and move on. You even stop and take walk breaks when it necessitated, counting to 15, under your ragged breath. 

As you reach the top of the Airforce base you’re greeted with some stinging head winds, almost trying to push you off course (well not quite that strong) with your bib threatening to tear off your vest. You finally reach Lion Point, making you wonder where’s the Tiger. So you finally come to the conclusion that you ran up Tiger Hill to come to Lion Point, isn’t it ironic, don’t you think (as Alanis Morisette would have put it).

So by the time you reach the turn around point, which turned out to be a line to touch and go, almost bumping into a bunch of cadets posing for a photographer, you heart is glad it will all be downhill from here. But then you’ve got hold that thought just for a little while longer cause there’s still a couple of kilometres of rolling hills to run on.

So your legs grudgingly make that return journey, hoping to get done with it once and for all, but your soul (not to be confused with the ones beneath your feet) feels free as a bird wafting in the wind, taking in the sights, enjoying the weather, cheering those who are still making the journey up the slopes, who need the cheering the most. So after you run, jog, walk the rolling hills, it’s finally time to descend the slopes. So you speed up but at the same time you try to control your pace, you don’t want to injure yourself. You are urged on by friends and fellow runners who have completed their race. 

Finally you reach that final turn and to your relief, the race is done. You collect your medal and congratulate the winners and friends, as is custom, and wear a wide grin as you chat with the organisers and fellow runners, relieved that you have completed the challenge. As you make your way to the presentation area to meet your mum (whom for the first time has attended a running event) and your friends, you can hear the naval band play Besame Mucho, bringing a huge smile for a childhood memory. 

Now that the race is done it’s time to celebrate and pose for pictures, as well as devour the post run breakfast. For the first time you get to click a pic with your mum after the race. Though your timing may not have been too great, your chest swells with pride, not just for yourself but also for your friend, some of whom have podium (hardly to any surprise). Now you can proudly say that you took up the challenge and successfully completed taming the tiger (hill).

Running for the Women and Men in White

There’s always that marathon that’s close to your heart, that’s special to you, that no matter where it’s held or when it’s held you will always make it a point to run it. The WNC Navy Half Marathon is one such race. Let’s face it, for a seasoned runner (or any runner for that matter), BKC is the most boring place to run, it’s the most saturated place for race with so many races being held there, and to have more than 10k runners run on those narrow roads can be quite the task. That coupled with a route that has more twist and turns than a murder mystery, along with a Mumbai weather that can’t seem to make its mind, one time cool and then going a few notches up (and that’s nots because of the runners or the men in white, or maybe it could be).

Inspite of all this what keeps us coming back to do the Navy Half Marathon? Well for starters where else would you get the opportunity to run with and for the men in white? It’s your way of saying thank you for their service and sacrifice and how much you respect them and are grateful to them for keeping us safe. There’s a feeling of prestige, a sense of pride, an honour of running for the men and women in white, and that’s what keep us coming back for more, at least that’s applicable to me. Where else would you have the chance to enjoy the sweet tunes of the naval band. It is also a way of saying thank you to the navy for the gems you’ve gotten the opportunity to know and be inspired from, like the late Raviji, Bijay, Rajat, Nadar Sir and many more dear runner friends, not to forget your best friends of the merchant navy, Ryan, Croydon and Praveen.

Standing at the start line you get the chills when you seem the beams of the tricolour. All through the route you have cadets and officers part of managing the route and manning the water stations along with the volunteers. And then you receive your medals from the men and women in their uniform. You have people clamouring to have a picture taken with them, making them the most sort after people in the race. And that chills you get up your spine when the naval band plays the national anthem, it fills you with pride.

Because of these you are willing to look past the shortcomings of running quite a boring route that’s so twisty and turny, and in a way not too well managed, or the poor volunteers tried to their best ( but then who starts a 10k before the 21k when knowing the back end of the 10k is filled with non serious runners, if we can even call them that, and the front end of the 21 has to tackle them). 

So inspite of all this the navy is one of the run I have always done, though not always  enjoyed, but all the time filling me with a feeling of prestige and honour, brining me back for more.

Ladakh Diaries: The Prelude to an Adventure

When you make your way through an expo (well the running kind), you normally make your way to the bib distribution centre, you collect your bib and you head back to your life. But then this was not your run-of-the- mill expo, it was the expo for the Mumbai Marathon. So in addition to collecting your bib, you socialise with all your runner friends, both in-station and outstation, and international (if you know any) and visit stalls. One such stall had something interesting and challenging to offer, and that was the one for the Ladakh marathon.

Now I would have overlooked it, cause I don’t fancy myself running up slopes, Running in the mountains, in fact, slopes and I share quite the love-hate relationship. But there was something alluring about the date, something alluring about taking up a challenge, that to on your special day. Something that would make you forget your dislikes.

So after a lot of mental deliberations and financial calculations (after all o had just done a vacation), the mind finally said go for it. So the decision was made, the tickets were booked, registration done, confirmation received, holidays applied and approved.

Flash forward 9 months later (no I didn’t deliver a baby, though always was one), struggling to  get my fat ass up and running, feeling a bit blue and under weather, I questioned my sanity about the entire undertaking. But I was all set to run in the highest of highs, a albeit a bit nervous (well make that hell nervous) getting set to run the hills, actually run the mountains would be more appropriate term, to go on a runcation. Although the head is filled with questions  whether I would be able to do it, but then a voice whispers and tells you to chill, you don’t need to race, just go there and soak in the experience, and hey it’s your day, so what better way to celebrate than taking up a challenge and ticking off one more item off that to-do list (that’s if you’re as crazy as I am).

So here I stand, on a cusp of another adventure, another challenge, another experience, all geared, all keyed, all nervous, ready to take on what lies ahead.

“All my bags are packed

I am ready to run

I am heading to Ladakh 

To have some fun

I’m so excited 

I could run right now

Cause I am leaving

To run a marathon 

That falls on my Birthday 

Don’t know if I’ll get this chance again

It doesn’t mind if I run fast or slow.

Cause I am going to Ladakh 

To run a half marathon.”

When Pune beckons you

When Pune beckons, you go. When she calls you drop everything and just go. And when you pay heed to her call she plays hard ball, sometimes hot, sometimes cold, with cloudy, overcast skies, occasionally spraying you with light showers. 

As you stand there waiting to greet your friends you can’t help but admire the weather, the skies, the coolness all around. You greet your friends as they slowly stream in to collect their bibs, greeting them enthusiastically, making runners talk like what’s your target time, what’s your strategy, and discuss the race, all the time you are silently hoping the weather holds up till tomorrow, she doesn’t go through the mood swing like her sister city nMumbai does.

True enough she holds her end of the bargain, she’s showered the roads with some light drizzle, which you can tell from the smell of wet grass as it greets you the moment you enter the tracks, as the fastest marathoners pass you by. You can’t help but marvel and be grateful.

She’s set a route that will challenge you, knowing a good challenge is what you like.  She’s cool now, though she’s no longer showering you with those light drizzles. She’s set inclines that test you, continuous  inclines though not relentless. You accept her challenge, ready and rearing to tackle it. You do not want to rush or panic, not let her get into to your head, when runners overtake you. You know what you need to do and you run to the beat of your own tune, or the music playing in your ears.

The route is wet from her morning showers, so you zig-zag to avoid puddles, patches of water, or you just run through them, splashing away with a childlike glee. You steady yourself as you try and keep to the side of the road that’s gotten a bit slippery. So occasionally you try to keep your balance and not land flat on your ass. 

The route is peppered with enthusiastic volunteers who relentlessly cheer you on, supporting you, egging you on, trying to make a tough route breezy. So aided by their support, and light breeze, which she now blessed you with, you make it through the inclines, till the 11th km, and from then it’s downhill. It’s time for high fives and thank yous, as you go, and take in the run, take in beauty of Pune, and you know she’s smiling upon you, favouring you, favouring all the runners. 

So as you approach the finish line you embrace the race, the warmth, you embrace Pune, and she embraces you back. You’re grateful that she held up her end of the bargain through each of those kms you ran, and you in turn ran with your heart, ran from your heart (if not from your core). You are grateful to her, you embrace her, and she embraces you wholeheartedly. 

Now its time for the post run shenanigans. You greet and eat, you even shake a leg and even get to handover the cheque to the podium finishers. You click pics and selfie and pose for pics and enjoy a good hot breakfast. And then it’s time to say goodbye. But you know you will be back soon, cause Pune will always call you back, will always draw you back to it. So it’s one more race in the bag, your first in the city (not counting the dream Run ran in 2007), and definitely you’re going to  return and run it again.

P.S. Thank you so much and congratulations team NEB Sports, the Super Shettyz, Sangeeta ma’am, Sunil sir and Nagraj sir for another feather in your cap, the wonderful volunteers and sponsors, the wonderful city of Pune, and last, but definitely not the least, thank you to the students and staff of AFMC for your wonderful hospitality and support, hats off to you all and join my hands in gratitude to you all for a wonderful race. Thank you Pune, adios till we meet again.

P.P.S.: This turning out to be like the end credits of a Marvel movie. This weekend wouldn't have been possible and fun without these stalwarts. Ashok sir, an absolutely awesome runner, who managed to make it through all our madness (even when I was dossing off riding shotgun), with an awesome song collection (to my absolute glee) and some really great advice on running. Yogi, such a chilled out and awesome mate and fellow runner, who can match and exceed your level of craziness but hell of a runner. Lastly, Sandeep, our Page 3 celebrity, who kept us entertained and was fun company. What more could I ask for to make it one awesome weekend.

A run in the park that ain’t a walk in the park

Learning to run may seem quite easy, just like walking in the park, but running in the park ain’t no walk in the park, well unless you do walk in the park, like I did today. The weather in the park can be quite moody, showering with you little drizzles and then vanishing altogether, adding to the humidity. And then you have the slopes and the inclines.

At the start of the race you are all smiles, greeting one another, and hoping, chal atleast ek dang ka picture milna chaiye jismay no t-Rex hands. Around the mid point you have your limbs screaming at you, abhe motay kitna kaam karvayenga tu humse, chal take a deep breath and take in more fresh air. Then at the end you’re limping, you’re crawling, trying to get over that finish lines. You legs are smelling of Violini and have been iced, you try to run but your muscles keep pulling you back, then every ounce of energy left in you pull yourself across that damn line, and even if you have to crawl on all fours you bloody to get over it.

Throughout the race you keep telling yourself to take it easy, taking walk breaks, whose frequency and length seemed to increase. The weather didn’t do you any favour (as if it was going to make it easy for you). You keep cursing with every slope and incline, who plans these routes, who put this incline here, why lord why me... and the list of curses of a weary mind keeps going endless. And when a runner who was quite behind overtake you, you’re tempted to give chase.

They say you should smile all your troubles away. I tried applying that, I am not sure about the success, but I sure did start looking quite freakish, almost like a creepy joker, think Pennywise from It. I was afraid that they would catch me and put me in Arkem. But then you had an awesome set of volunteers who had one time poured cool water down your spine, much to your surprise and delight, and who did an awesome job at it. 

Crossing the finish line (after almost slipping on muck) you begin to analyse your run, especially if you had a run like the one I had, and all I could think of is , abhe sale tu to mota aur budda ho gaya. So now it’s back to the drawing board, but not after preening and posing and screaming and cheering and congratulating.

On a closing note firstly kudos to the BNP Greener Runners for putting together such a well organised and managed event. Thank you all the volunteers and photographers and people who came to cheer. I may be far from my best but I know I can persevere and pull through and today proved just that, I endured through the BNP Endurathon. So now it’s time to drop some weight and train well, but enjoy every run.

Life, Lemons and the Runner

“Everything that happens, happens for the best”... “When life throws you lemons, you make lemonade”... Well if you tell this to a Runner who hasn’t been able to do his weekend long run, be sure to duck the lemons that will be thrown at you.

When a bad back gets you down the only thing that you can do is hope that it better heal quickly and you are able to hit the road and the Gym because face it the whole world seems to be running and you have been putting on weight which you need to loose before your vacation trip (face it, everyone wants to look hot on their vacations, especially if it’s near a beach and you want a presentable beach body).

So dil pay pathar rakh kay rest lene ka decision lay liya (vow I can talk Hindi... woohoo). So I decide I would head to NCPA and volunteer there.

The weather was perfect and the sight was beautiful and met up one of my best gals who I have not seen in ages (except on Instagram). The moonset over the Arabian Sea was breathtaking (see I am also gold at geography). And to top it all it was meeting my fellow, privileged runners (as I was underprivileged if not being able to run), interacting with them, getting to know them, posing for pictures, cheering people who had dressed for the Halloween Run, in short, being in the centre of all the fun, actually took off the edge of the pain of not running. God bless our SPOC and admins and our Angel volunteers and of course our sponsors, breakfast, energy bars, yogurts, energy bar (sadly didn’t taste any).

So returning home with a glad heart but sleepy head (actually dozed off riding short gun with Captain Praveen... I am so sorry). Went on to take a nap with a glad heart cause it was a morning well spent.

But hey it doesn’t end here. Well then your phone keeps buzzing with people who have completed their race and runs, leaving you feeling those guilty pangs (or was that indulgence pangs of over eating). The world was out there running and you were the only one missing out on the running fun.

So finally succumbing to the guilt (cause your back’s doing good) so set out on a run. Initially thinking that 30k was doable but then settling to the idea that it is not to push the back ... and the maddening picnickers... who I swear need to learn how to damn well park their vehicles and drive on the right side of the road.

So I went, dodging motorbikes, pedestrians, cars and buses, first down to Marve beach and then Dana Pani beach, just hoping, hoping I get to see the sunset. So I passed the  previously mentioned parked vehicles and our vehicular traffic, often having to walk. But I managed to maintain my arm swings and foot strikes (phew) and no signs of the nagging back pain. So passed couples getting it on (not completely and I wasn’t gawking at them), men enjoying their drinks and dancing in drunken stupor, boys trying to take a selfie  and dance to some weird music. 

Survived all that and maintained a decent pace and reached back home for some stretches... and yes got to see a beautiful sunset. But then the weighing machine hands me some bad news that I piled on instead of getting it off... so now there’s more work to be done.

In the end, I got inspired by each and everyone of my Runner friends and went out for an evening run and did decently well. So that brings an end to an down and up weekend. So back again to the Monday and battling the weekend blues. But hey had a good time and that’s what matter.

The Pacing Conundrum

Well I have been running for a while now (approximately 6 years... I seem to have lost count). Well does that make me a good runner.... well yes... if not good may be decent. 

Today ran my first race as a Pacer Bus... so am I good Pacer... apparently not... as I learnt that today, the harsh way. I have paced friends before but never as a bus. 

Turns out I am better personal pacer than pacing a bus. Today ended up modifying my pace to suit the pace of the people on my bus, totally ignoring my Garmin telling me I am on pace, behind pace and ahead pace (things I am so good at).

The thing is I am bad at planning and getting into the technical minuets of pacing, which in the end I should have done (and that came back to bite my sorry arse). Plus I should have had my watch showing me the time as well as pace. The whole time I was wondering am I going too fast or too slow. My fellow 2:15 Pacer was behind me so does this mean am I going fast (as you well know by now... I overthink everything). When someone asked me if I was in time I just looked at him and said I hoped I was. That proves I wasn’t much of help.

To top it all the route was more confusing than anything that could confuse me (And trust Me I am a confused nut) and went on and on and on (like an Amaron Battery... ting tong (oh come on... I had to get that in)). And then you had volunteers who were confused (can’t blame them... did you see the crowd). One volunteer was asking people... Apke gadi main kitna distance hua hai... 18 phir right jaoo.... poor chappy... made me go what the F... exactly. So many good runners lost their way, missed loops and ran extra. So You see a lot of them got more than what they signed up for, or maybe they were lucky enough to complete their Sunday long run. And then the Start and Finish point had no watch to indicate the time... you didn’t know if that was the Finish point (had a couple of runners ask me that). And then you had people who you would rather give a finger salute, on stage (total useless idiots). Sadly the efforts of all the pacers was not acknowledged, as I thought they would.

Well on the positive side, I had a wonderful time screaming myself hoarse, cheering people on, pushing them, trying to motivate them. I am not sure what was heritage about the Run (or I just didn’t notice it) but I had a good time running with people. I managed to rein my untamed spirit in to run at what I thought was a suitable pace. So in the end I did do what I love doing, running and cheering and screaming, being colourful in my language... in short... being myself. I felt more grateful than the people who came and told me that I was able to push them and help them ( the few who I managed to help). So in the end it made me feel blessed to be able to help. But most importantly made me salute the spirit with which We run with... fat, thin, young, old, able sand differently able, not letting our shortcomings come in our way, making each and every person a winner.

So in the end, would I pace again... well may be, or may be not, the jury is still out on that one. Though I maybe disappointed of not finishing on time and having to pick a faster pace the last couple of kilometres, I realised I have a learning curve in pacing too. Learn from it, soak in the experience and move on. The pacing sometimes needs to be about the Runner, not always about the timing. 

So there you have it... my first experience as a 2:15 Pacer.