What’s going on… your running a 55k

 “So you wake in the morning and step outside 

And you take a deep breath 

And you get real high

And scream on top of your lungs…

What’s going on?”

.. to which you hear yourself saying, “you’re running yet another 55 kms!”

You are no longer questioning your life choices. You are no longer asking your self why. After doing your third 50 (plus) km this year, life has more or less given up on your craziness or asking why, knowing you’ll do it all again.

But there’s still one thing you won’t do. You won’t call or acknowledge yourself an ultra runner, cause no matter how many ultras you may run you’ll never get to that crazy level of mileage as that of an ultra runner. You just love to run, mo matter the distance.

So there you find yourself at yet another start line, all set and raring to go. But before that you need to start all your apps and watch and sign yourself (after all you are catholic boy) as it’s customary for you to do.

You feel rested and ready to face the challenge ahead thanks to fact you are staying at the resort which is also the start line. 

So you wake up and dress up at ease and step down from your hotel and onto the start line, greeting your friends and fellow runners who are busy warming up while you are being your usual social butterfly.

As the clock strikes 4, it’s off you go, but not before starting all your apps and watch, and of course signing yourself.

You try not to think about the “S” word as you hadn’t had either hot water or black coffee.

You steadily run, keeping a slow and steady pace, cheering your fellow runners as you join them.

The air feels nice crisp against your skin. You do feel a chill but not a biting cold. At the  back of your mind you feel you are under dressed. Where others are in tees and shorts on top of compression shorts, not to forget the compression sleeves, you are in your shortest of shorts and a running singlet with just your hydration bag to keep your warm. But then you are not quite bothered by this thought cause you know you can pull it off with style and not just the justification that if you got it you flaunt it.

You steadily run past darkened houses with their occupants fast asleep, with none stirring, not even a mouse!  The only sound you hear is the bark of a few agitated canines who seem to be complaining about the sound of the patter of feet that seem to have disturbed their sleep.

You are  not worried about them, after all, as the saying goes, barking dogs seldom bite!

So you continue down the road, following the ones ahead, switching your head lamp on and off as pass through dark patches, shielding your eyes from the glare of the headlights of the on coming vehicles.

You make your past Pune’s version of Chowpatty (or so you’ve been told) admiring the waters that’s glistening in the reflection of the night sky (actually not the night sky but an early morning one). 

You run past the NDA and the remnant of a battle tank that may or may not have seen battle but now just a showpiece for the academy.

Just when you give thanks for the race being uneventful so far, you hear a crack of glass and with it comes a fellow runner, tumbling next to you.

You stop to give him a helping hand and check if he’s doing fine and not cut (after all you did hear crack of glass).

Once he tells you (and the other runners who stopped to check on him) that he’s ok, you are once again off on your way trying to stay focused on the road so that you don’t trip and fall knowing what a distracted soul that you are.

Although you keep your eyes on the road trying not to be the next one falling over (knowing how distracted you are, it wouldn’t be a great surprise) but there’s something about the night (or early morn, in this case) that fascinates you. The night is indeed dark, but it isn’t filled with terror.

You are enveloped in this inky darkness, but there’s nothing fearful about it (maybe all those early morning runs have gotten you over the fear of the dark). There’s this hum in the air, the sound of pumps slowly coming to life, machinery being switched on, cattle stirring from their slumbers. You take it all in , a core memory that’s going to live with you forever.

And just when you think that’s all’s good in the world, ok make that the run, you hear a thud, and you have a runner come tumbling down. He’s the one who tumbled earlier. As you check on him, with other runners, and help him to his feet. You figure out why he had a fall, he’s not wearing a head lamp and his shoes have almost lived their running life and somehow his running gait is such that any pothole and speed bump easily become a trip hazard.

Once you ensure he’s alright, you are once again off on your run, running steadily but cautiously, hoping that like Jesus he doesn’t fall the third time! You wonder if this thought would be constituted as blasphemous!

You’re running steadily, constantly checking if all parts are functioning properly. 

For most part it’s just us runners and no one else, after all who would want to be out and about on the road at this ungodly hour and that to when its cold and the bed seems like a nice and warm place to be snuggled in. But you do have a few uncles who have come out for their morning walk, all wrapped in their warm clothing. Next to them you feel quite underdressed, considering your short-shorts and your vest. They give you look as if to say who’s this prick in his chaddi-banyan running on our roads. 

You don’t mind them, in fact you welcome their presence, after all it’s good to see someone else other than runners on roads.

So you carry on with your run. As it’s dark and the only light is that of your lamp, you run by feel, and in the moment you begin to feel the route take an upward trajectory, which means it’s time for some brisk walk.

As you steadily walk up you stare at the city and the dam below. You notice two glistening diamond like orbs staring at you. You wonder, is it possible that the furry one from the park decided to keep an eye on you? But then you realise it’s not the furry one but just a miniature version of it, something that you know that your burgers and fries would be fascinated by. You smile at this thought and continue on your way.

You marvel at the glistening lake below, all inky blue, reflecting the colour of the sky above. The houses dotted like fireflies around the lake.

You take it all in, the part of the experience of running on routes less taken. So you go where the road takes you, or in this case the route designed by organisers.

As you continue on your way, nature begins to lighten up as dawn slowly breaks, banishing away the darkness that enveloped you. And although the sun is slowly rising in the sky, its light still doesn’t cut through the mist that still hangs in the air, which mean the the glare that you had put on  goes back cause your breath been fogging up the glass making the road ahead less visible.

You don’t mind the light fog, as long it doesn’t feel like the Mumba smog.

You finally catch a glimpse your burgers and fries running ahead of you. You slowly make your way to her and as always you check on her. You know what this run means to her and to her alone and no one else. You know struggles she’s been through and you are proud to see her pushing through despite the conditions being tough on her. You are proud of her.

After checking on her and knowing that she has company, you continue on your way.

So you go where the road leads, where the set course takes you. Through the twists and turns and rise and falls and the climbs and descend. You run on kaccha roads, with fields on either sides, on bridges that’s on stream that have been dried up.

Over time the sunlight has managed to cut through the fog lifting the curtain on that which was hidden, making visible that was hidden behind the fog. A sight that takes your breath away.

For most of the time you have the company of few runners, some of who have over taken you, a few who you have overtaken. But then there comes a point where there’s no one for company, and for most part you are running by yourself, with just the sun, in all its glory, for company, which has now found its light and has begun to shine bright.

There are points where you do cross a few runners  but most time it’s just you and the road and Taylor Swift crooning Opalite, and Chappell Rowan singing Good luck babe, and Adele, and so on, to keep you company.

You make it a point to stop at each water station and thank the volunteers manning them, after all they have been on duty from the earliest of morning for the runners running greater mileage. And they have been taking good care of every runner. This is one thing that makes races organised by runners standout from big time marquee races.

After what felt for the longest time, you being your own company, you begin to see a few runners who have been running the 35 and 25k. 

From being mostly unfamiliar, the route now seems to be more familiar after having done a 25k the previous year. 

You are no longer all by yourself, you begin passing villagers who begun going about their day. You have buses and tempos zipping by, people hanging around ready to start their day.

You breathe a bit easy knowing you are close to the finish line, just a few more kms to go. But then those few more kms include an uphill. And even though you walk up it feels like it’s just going on and on with the descent not coming anytime soon.

This is your very own Everest that you need to surmount. And if that wasn’t all you begin to feel your muscles tighten making the progress even more slow. 

You pass by variety of shops that are now full swing catering to those who have come to buy what they have to offer. You pass by street vendors and cattle and dogs who are all set to greet you. You even pass a group of bathing the mortal remains preparing it for its final journey. You sign yourself and mutter a pray as you continue on.

When you finally begin to descend you try to run cautiously as you begin to feel the onsets of cramps, so you progress is slow and steady.

You finally reach a point where you see the volunteers ask you to take the lane on the right, after water station.

So you make your way up a kaccha road while a few kids begin to cheer you on and ask for hi fives.

Once again you try to run cautiously as you don’t want to trip and fall or twist your ankle.

By this point you feel the weariness and the fatigue that has already set in. Your body, especially your feet seem to be yelling, wanting to just give up, but you tell yourself that you didn’t come this far to give. So you just keep running.

You take one final turn and you know you are close to the finish line. You dig deep and give it your all, that one final push. You can see the resort, your finish line. You break into quick stride, and make it over that finish line.

And just like that you’ve run your longest distance. You punch the air and let out a squeal of delight. 

From being a reluctant full marathoner to running your third 50km of the year, you’ve come a long way, but you still don’t think of yourself an ultra runner.

You hobble over to the medal counter to collect your personalised medal from the youngest volunteer.

And with that you have an another race under your belt, a feather in your cap. Though this was a really tough one, a challenging one, you know you’ll be back once again, to accept this challenge and run this route once again.

You smile at this thought and head down the route to help bring your burgers and fries across the finish line.

Bib No. 42420… excuse me please!!!

 जिसे मेरी याद आए, जब चाहे चली आए

रूप महल, प्रेम गली, खोली number ४२०

Excuse me Please

Just my thoughts when I saw the bib number assigned me, and I couldn’t help but smile, chuckle a little.

Running a full at Hyderabad was never on my bucket list. Having run two halves (to think of it, two halves makes a full) you aren’t quite inclined to running the full. And knowing the challenge the route provided kind of kept you away from a full here.

However, in the past that would have deterred you but after running a few ultras on tougher routes, it didn’t seem too daunting. So, when your burgers and fries suggested running it as an easy training run , you jumped at the opportunity. Then you hadn’t seen your cousins in years, it would be a good reason to visit city where you had your roots. And more importantly you get to run with coach Dan joining you. Now that was the cherry on the cake.

So once again you wake up at an ungodly hour (to be honest, you never quite slept in the first place with your mind racing with the pre-race jitters). You give your burgers and fries a wake up call and head for a quick shower (as part of your ritual ) and get ready. You click the mandatory selfie and proceed to the reception to catch the cab and head to coach’s hotel which is closer to the start line.

So after meeting up with coach and Dinesh, it’s off to the start to the line we go along with Shabana, a dear friend and fellow runner (of course she would have to be a runner to be up at this ungodly hour).

In a sea of unfamiliar faces you are actually glad to see a few familiar ones from Mumbai. You try to wam up as you go through the motion along with your burgers and fries and coach. 

You follow the runners  as they make their way to the start line trying not to get too annoyed with the noise from the speaker which you feel is too loud.

As the race is finally flagged off you make your way to across the start line but not before trying to fumble your way to find the start on your watch and your  various  apps on your phone. By the time you get going you have quiet a bit of catching up to do. So you zig and zag your way through the sea of runners till you finally catch up to coach and your burgers and fries.

As you make your way around the Hussain Sagar you can’t help but be mesmerised with how beautiful and all lit up The Secretariat , building, standing there in all its glory. You take out your phone to capture it only to have it not open as your phone’s memory with all the pics you click. You desperately try to create space by deleting old pics, but it still doesn’t open which means that you need to restart your phone (oh the drama of it all, and  you’ve only just started). 

You worry that if you restart your phone you will loose the mileage that the app has covered which would mean that you’re getting inaccurate readings. But you can’t help but restart it and to your good luck nothing has been reset.

You’re doing all this while still trying to keep up with coach and burgers and fries, who have gone ahead of you. You increase your pace just to ensure you catch up with them.

Although coach tells us to carry on as he’s following a walk-run plan, you still stick with him and do the same as this meant to be an easy run, only to later to realise that even when coach is doing a run-walk approach, it’s not easy or simple keeping up with him (which is why he’s the coach).

You steadily make your way around the Hussain Sagar, something the full marathoners need to do before the half marathon is flagged off. 

There’s something enchanting about the lake. It’s all inky blue with the Indian flag and its reflection at the far end. You stop and capture the site (breathing a sigh of relief that your phone allowed you to go that without flashing memory full!). 

Running around the Hussain Sagar brings so many memories from your first visit to this place, along with your aunt and cousins. You smile as you reminisce on the memories.

As you continue make your way around the Husain Sagar you begin to hear strains of tunes that you are so familiar with, songs from your childhood, songs that take you by surprise as you  are not used to hearing them. Being played out loud during a run. It’s a nice change to hear some Boney M instead of the usual Bhaag Milkha!

You look around to see from where the music is coming. You notice a  gentleman carrying a Bluetooth speaker, who would so fit as one of the henchman in a 80s masala movie.

You can’t help but smile as you continue to run.

As you continue to loop around the Hussain Sagar, something happens that gets you all worked up. You  begin to yawn, which gets you worried. After all, cramps se darr nahin lagta jitna run ke time pe neend ana!

You start to get flashbacks of TUM 2023, and more lately your 45km training run. You desperately try to stifle your yawn but it just won’t go, after all sleep has a yawn sambhan  with you. 

This means you have to keep splashing water on your face to keep the sleep away from your eyes.

To a good extent this helps. You manage to keep sleep at bay. But this also means that you are playing catch up with coach and your burgers and fries. You actually don’t mind cause it lets you scratch that itch of wanting to speed up.

So you make your way around the Hussain Sagar and once again pass the starting line to join the half marathoners which had already been flagged off.

From there you climb your first flyover, to the strains of the dhols that’s been played around the start line, and then it’s on to the next one and then next while you roll along the route.

The thing about running slow it lets you notice so many things that you really don’t notice when you concentrate on pace and timings and targets. Mind you, it’s not easy running slow, when every moment you get this itch of wanting to speed up, to catch up to the ones on the other side of the road. But you’ve got to control that urge.

The benefits, you are not stressed about your pace or timing or the fear of cramping. You get to take in the route, to marvel how much the place has grown and developed and how modern it has become in terms of its infrastructure. You also note the presence of the number of breweries in a once dry state. You chuckle at this thought.

You join your burgers and fries in admiring and complimenting runners on their running shoes, checking on other runners if they are doing ok, cheering them on.

You get to enjoy the music that the various bands are playing as they cheer you on. You give them a huge shoutout. You soak in all the people who have come out there to cheer you on, something that wasn’t there when you previously ran here. 

You admire how much the race and the route has management has improved, and how much better the race has been organised and managed compared to the other races you have run. 

You make it a point to thank all the volunteers at the water stations and on the route for their support without which any race or even a run would have been a nightmare.

Just when you are enjoying the run along with your burgers and fries, you have the 10k runners (walkers would be better term) join the race and with that you are running in a sea of so-called runners. You try to make your way through them at the same time trying hard to not let your family jewels not get damaged from the swinging hands which seemed to be everywhere.

You and your burgers and fries try to not loose each other in the crowd and at the same time trying not to loose sight of coach.

Though you had heard about how the route for the full marathoners deviated into a lonely stretch through the university campus, at that moment you really start hoping that you would come to that part of the race soon and move away from the crowd of Half Marathoners and 10k runners.

Finally, you come to that part where they move towards Gachibowli stadium and to their finish line while full marathoners have around 15+ kms to complete as you run through the university campus.

As you run through the campus  you see your friend Neha on the other side of the road. You hear your burgers and fries call out to her “check out the cutie”. “Who Roddy?” She asks  back. “No the doggie” your burgers and fries tells her, making a popat of you. You notice a doggy for comes to you whimpering as if complaining about being disturbed by all the runners. You give her a couple of rubs as you continue on.

This part of the route is lonely but thank god there are volunteers guiding you otherwise you would have definitely have gotten lost.

In the distance you can hear peacocks call, now that’s something new that you had never heard or experienced in any races before, there’s always first.

You continue running with your burgers and fries on a route that feels endless and going on and on, with so many twist and turn. Just when you think you are reaching the exit you get another turn.

After being on your feet for well over five hours you begin to feel the areas above your glutes tightening, so you try to release it by massaging the area, much to the charging of your burgers and fries as doing meant you were mooning the runners, giving them quite the eyeful.

You pick up a spray as your burger and fries is cramping. You try to nudge her and cheer her and encourage her to move on, you can see her struggle but at the same time showing the resilience to push through the cramps.

The going is slow as you can’t speed up. You are actually grateful to the well stocked water station something that’s very important for the slow runners who are struggling and need all the support to push through. You are glad for their presence and support and cheers and motivation.

Finally you exit the campus and realise you just have a last few kms to cover. You look at your burger and fries to see if she’s alright. You tell her to take it easy and you going to pick up your pace for the last few kms.

Just when you start quickening your pace, you get hit by a two-wheeler who decided  to gatecrash and crash into you. Though you are annoyed snd pissed, you are pretty ok. So you continue speeding on your way as the motorist speeds on his (without any apologies).

As you enter the route to the stadium you have the finishers cheering you on, marvelling at the fact that you literally sprinting to the finish line.

As you enter the stadium, you feel that surge of adrenaline running through your veins propelling you forwards and onwards to the finish line.

You can feel the eyes are on you. You smile for the shutterbugs as you continue sprinting without any sign of discomfort. 

As you finally cross that finish line you let out a squeal of delight, happy to get another marathon under your belt, albeit your slowest one, but you don’t mind that, this was supposed to be  hours on feet rather than pace. 

You congratulate coach who had finished well before you . You patiently wait for your burgers and fries who finishes strongly. 

Then it’s time for pictures to commemorate the moment and for the mandatory insta posts. 

Although you head to breakfast counter it feels bland. So you say good bye to coach and head yo your hotel with your burgers and fries as your mum waits for you.

With this you’ve completed yet another marathon. Though the idea was to run a slow one you realise that it’s not that easy to run slow. It takes a lot of control and patience to keep your need for speed at bay and stop yourself from wanting to speed up.  In the end you had a good run and yet another one for the memories.