The Fogwala Run

Although you’ve said it a thousand times… ok maybe not a thousand  times, or even anything that close. But you have said it several times… you’ll never put yourself through it all again… and by that I mean running an Ultra. Yet here you are, standing at yet another start line after putting yourself through the wringer for the past two months (that too peak summer months), courtesy Coach Dan’s training plan!

You have never considered yourself an ultra runner (you still never will) but here you are getting to ready run your 4th ultra, the second one of the year. Yet you refuse to term yourself an ultra runner.

So there you are, at the start of yet another start line, doing what you trained for. 

You are way behind everyone cause your hydration belt refuses to stay on your waist and keeps riding down. You have this beautiful South Korean runner for company and a guy desperately trying to get his friend to capture his run for social media.

You try your best not let it get to you and keep pulling it up wondering if all this training made you loose your arse, or did it make an arse out of you. You try not to get flustered or hit the panic button and find a way to cope with the situation.

You desperately keep trying to pull your belt up, and doing so you keep pulling your already short shorts up almost up scandalising those behind you with a very cheeky view.

Somehow you manage to balance the gel and everything feels fine and less annoying. You manage to catch Vijay and Ketak and Natty and Adi, almost mooning poor Adi until Natty tells you that you need pull you pants and make an ass of yourself by exposing your arse.

So there you are running in the dark on a route that’s concealed by the fog. The rains didn’t want to grace us with its presence and sent the fog in its place.

The fog in a way was kind of blessing as it was an hindrance. It concealed so many things, along with the dark. But then what you couldn’t see had no chance of scaring you, so that way the fog was beneficial.

Finally you make it to the first turnaround point at the 5K mark. It’s pitch darkness all around and the fog makes it even more darker and errier. Your visibility is kind of hampered and all you can hear is the gurgling of a stream nearby, or maybe it was just water flowing through a gulley. But somehow this doesn’t bother you. You continue going on your way, trudging along slowly and steadily at a decent pace. You make it a point stopping at the water station, siping water and taking pinch of salt and then a cube of jaggery. 

You pass the start line, where you hear music blaring music with the 35k already flagged off and the runners are on their way.

You pass Cloud 9 and make your way to Tiger Point.

You trudge carefully trying not to place your feet wrongly. One wrong placement could mean the end of your race and could push you back by weeks, if not days.

So you run carefully but steadily, and as you have done during your training run keep warning Vijay and Ketak and Ani of any potential holes or cracks in the road, as they do the same for you.

You begin to see runners passing by on the other side of the road making you marvel at the speed they are running in (cause you assumed that they were 50k runners). But then you realise that these are the 35k runners.

You continue on your way with Vijay and Ketak and Ani for company, keeping you in check and ensuring you that you don’t doze off, as only yours truly can do.

So for most part you are having a good strong run. You know you are running comfortably as you are chit chatting like only you can do, trying to keep the morale up (as if it was needed) and in doing so you were doing the same for you.

By and by you reach the turnaround point for the full marathoner. It’s time to part ways with Ketak and Ani who are running their FM. So, you wish them the best and Vijay and you continue onward and forward towards your turnaround near the Airforce base.

As you near Tiger Point you find the road lined with cars, revellers out on a drive, out to have a good time, families with kids, youth leaning out of their cars, men in drunken stupor. You wonder what these morons could see in the pitch darkness? What thrill do they get from behaving like desperate, horny asses.

You make your way through the cars, trying not to get hit by the ones who decide it would be fun to speed and come close and frighten runners and even tease them. You worry for Natty and Adi cause these were type that were forever horny and hormonal and anything with two legs and a breast would excite them. You wished there were more security on the route, especially for female runners. Even reflectors would make quite a difference here.

You pass these spots, finally reaching the airforce base and your second turnaround point. From there it’s now on to Amby Valley.

As you make your way you spot Natty and  Adi. You are happy to see them running strongly and steadily. You cheer them and tell to be cautious of the route ahead, and you continue on your way.

You are glad that you have Vijay for company cause otherwise it would be lonely and scary and the possibility of you sleeping off on your feet. As you’ve trained together, you are totally in sync with each other keeping each other moving onwards and forward, walking up the slopes and running steadily otherwise. 

You once again pass by Cloud 9 as you make your way towards Amby Valley. You both have been running strongly and steadily, motivating each other, supporting each other with a pee break being the only time you pause, other than the brief moments you spend at the water station.

You kind of agree with Vijay when he says the route should have been lit, especially in the forest areas where the tree cover adds to the already darkened and kind of treacherous route, as it was done for TUM. Although you agree with this you still end up stating that TUM was a big ticket race and this wasn’t so you would give it the benefit of doubt even though you know that the route would be safer if it was lit up especially in these dark patches.

As you near Amby you meet the front pack of the 50k on their way back. You cheer as you spot your friends Urmi and Swapnil, who are blazing away making the route feel like a piece of cake. You spot Rashmi and Latish and Mehz and Payal and Dheval, all who are going strongly. You also have the 42k and 35k runners making their way. 

You chat with another runner friend Kunal, who’s running a 35k. You cheer Ketak and Ani  as they make their way back, even clicking them as they go by. You even give your friends a friendly finger salute as they pass you.

As you enter Amby Valley you quip that if you take another pee break here you would be in a way helping the bio diversity of the place, chuckling at your on silly RJ.

By the time you reach your third  turnaround point daylight has finally made its way through the gloomy, foggy weather. But there’s still no sign of rains, apart from some brief showers. Looks like no one was singing Showers of Blessings.

You spot Natty and Adi running strongly and surely with a spring in their step and joy in their heart that radiates into a smile. You wouldn’t be able to tell that they were running a 50k.

You cheer them loudly and capture their shenanigans. Their joy is infectious and it makes its way to you. But then you have this joy of your own that keeps you calm and chugging on.

As you exit Amby, you spot your fellow RBs Amogh, Amit, Rishi and Amit who are running the 21k. You begin to cross other Half Marathoners, who are making their way to Amby Valley. You are filled with Joy when you spot your dear friends Mitali, the ever smiling and youthful Bimalji, your very own Benjamin Button, Anil sir, Vandy ma’am, Rupal, Srini sir, Manisha, Vimol, Jogesh, Anand, as they pass by you. You cheer loudly your for friends from the BNP Green Runners, MRR, Stride with GB, along with your fellow RBs. In fact, you are cheering everyone on  the route, especially the ones who need it the most.

By now you are running comfortably. The  route doesn’t seem so daunting, and thanks to your familiarity with it. You are running much stronger and better than what you had done at TUM. 

A glance at your watch indicates that you just have a little over 11 km to go and one hour to have spent 6 hours on your feet. May be, just may be, if you push a little more you could go under 6 hours. No matter what you knew you would better the time you took to complete TUM.

Reaching the water station just before you take the road towards Mulshi, once again, you take your gel, sip water and try to pick your pace. You hand your cap and head lamp to Swapnil who has finished his run and is comfortably walking around as if he just went out for a short run and was done.

By now you begin to pass runners who are doing smaller distances. You spot Prerna and give her a cheer as she passes by. And then you see coach Girish and this sight fills you so much joy. You are so happy to see him running strongly and proudly, blazing the road the way only he’s capable of. Seeing him go is such an inspiring sight. You let out a loud cheer as you pass by him.

Now it’s your turn to push through to the final turnaround point and onwards to the finish line. Just when you thought you had everything under control you feel your calves tightening up. Damn, you ran 44 kms without any niggle and now when you are so close to the finish cramps decide to set in. Any chance of finishing within or around the 6 hour mark have now vanished just like the rains that didn’t happen. 

Fortunately they aren’t too bad but they do slow you down requiring you to walk every now and then. You fall behind but try not worry. As if the cramping were not enough your watch runs out of battery (something that you knew would happen).  But there’s no hitting the panic button. You keep chugging along.

The final loop, which was hidden in the dark and fog feels daunting as there a lot more inclines than you thought were there, and this slows you down as you have to walk up them and also because every time you try to speed up your calves begin to tighten and then you have to hobble up the slope.

Somehow the final turnaround feels like a distant memory that only feels farther than you thought it was. But you are determined and nothing gonna keep you down.

Finally you reach the turnaround point and you are just glad to get there. You wonder if this could be the finish line and you didn’t have to go any further!!! 

You meet this cute doggie with a dent in its head. You give it a couple pats before you take off to the finish line, chatting with other runners who are as troubled as you with this last part of the run.

You smirk and flex your muscles as you pass by a few photographers.

As you near the finish line you see Mitali who cheers you on and you are so glad for it. You give one final push that carries you across the finish line.

And just like that you’ve got another 50k in the bag (run and not money, if that confused you). You hobble to the holding area cause your legs are all sore. You are glad to have completed the race but then there’s this nagging, dull disappointment at the back of your head. But then you tell yourself that in ultras timing don’t matter, it’s the distance and the time on your feet (just as coach Dan said).

So with that you have another 50k under your belt and some good memories to cherish and lesson learned and things to implement. You collect your medal, pose for pics and go to the finish line just in time to cheer Rups and Srini Sir as they finish, as well cheering all the other runners. You patiently wait for Adi and Natty to finish who are still making the most of their 50k and having fun on the run.

Oops I did it again… I ran another marathon!!!

Every single time, before, during and after a marathon, you tell yourself “Never Again”, and every time you find yourself doing just that all over again. Cliche as it may sound, but it’s something a runner goes through every time.

So once again you find yourself at yet another star,t all set and ready to go (albeit a bit annoyed because the host was bit too loud and you don’t do Zumba as a warm up for a race). 

You have this quiet confidence in you that you’ve got though, trying not to think about the 42+ kms you need to run. You had a lot of positive learning from your run at Khadakwasla, the previous Sunday. Now it’s time to translate what you did there for the 25k, to the FM, just as coach Dan had instructed you.

For a change you are not anxious about cramping and all the aches and pains you will face during the run. These are distant thoughts in your head, for a change. The only thing that you are anxious about is if you would be able to keep up with Yogi and Ketak, running at their planned easy pace. But then Coach’s words come to mind that each one should run their own race according to the way they’ve trained, which meant that you would be behind and by yourself. You try hard not let these thoughts overwhelm you.

So there

you at yet another start line to yet another marathon, patiently waiting for the countdown to the start. The warm ups are done and the national anthem has been sung. Pictures have been clicked and the wishes have been wished. Now all that’s left to do is run.

Once the countdown is done there’s a flurry of fireworks lighting up the early morning sky. You start all your apps at the start line, quickly signing yourself, and off you go, trying to keep up with Yogi, Ketak and Manish.

You follow them for a kilometre or two before you decide that they a running at a pace faster than you could manage. Instinctively Coachs words come to mind that you need to run at a pace that’s comfortable to you, you need to run your own race at your own pace.

Slowly and steadily as you drop your pace they go ahead and disappear in the sea of  runners. You try not to get worked up as you by yourself even though there are others around you.

You let others pass you by as you continue to run steadily at a comfortable pace. You fight the urge to speed up and catch up with them. You just keep telling yourself “you’ve got this”. 

So there you are running mostly by yourself. There are a few runners around you but you are by yourself as you don’t know them and they keep to their run or their friends with them. It does feel lonely being all alone but that’s ok, that’s what running is about, it can be lonely when you don’t have friends around. At the same time it can be quite meditative cause it’s just you and the road. You have the river for company for most part of the route.

So you keep rolling by the river, up and over and under quite a lot of underpasses that are all colourfully lit and seem to have garba music on the speakers, to your amusement, making you wonder if you should run or start doing the garba, which actually puts a smile on your face. 

To your surprise you are actually not overthinking or getting all stressed out about any signs of the onset of cramps. You just smile and  continue to go up and down and over and under, by the river and then over it and onto the other side with your music and the river for company. 

For most part the route feels quite monotonous and kind of boring just a handful of people around to cheer you on, besides the volunteers. After running a challenging but amazingly beautiful route at Khadakwasla the week before this feels like a meh kind of route. Only shows that smaller event that managed by runners can always be better than the bigger ones.

You meet a few known faces along the way who enquire if you had a time you were looking to complete the marathon, to which you quip that you had no specific target time. The only thing you were targeting was to run the race without cramping.

So you continue to run steadily and in control, without giving in to the urge to speed up.

You cheer people you know as they pass you and you pass them making a runner ask you if you were local, to which you reply proudly with a smile  that you are a Mumbaikar.

By the time you reach the halfway mark the morning sun is out banishing the darkness of the early morning. It’s time to get out your pretty pink sunglasses that till now were on the top of your head. You glad that although the sun’s out the weather still had that coolness, what does get you annoyed that there’s no sign of the u-turn even though you have passed the halfway mark, and then a couple of kilometres. 

The route then takes a turn from the river and passes through fields and few houses. Finally at the 25th km you reach the u-turn. From here you decide to push your pace slowly and steadily as coach had instructed. Your legs feel good and strong and like you did the week before at Khadakwasla you can push yourself. 

So you run steady but quicker making up ground to the ones ahead of you, catching up to the ones who had overtaken you. 

You marvel at the fact that you are running swiftly and steadily and strongly tackling the underpasses with a sense of ease while others are huffing and puffing their way on the return. You are running with this smile on your face  and a quiet confidence in your heart, constantly telling yourself you’ve got this. 

You cheer your fellow runners as you pass them, applauding their effort, giving them a thumbs up as you pass them by. In your own way you try to boost their energy, giving some that you have.

By and by you reach the dreaded 32nd km, the one where many runners hit the fabled wall, the one you cramped really badly in Dubai and in all the marathons you have run (except for the one where you DNF or the one where you already cramped at the sea link). For change there’s no signs of any cramps. Your legs feel strong if not fresh and you are doing well and going strong.

You finally catch up to your buddy Manish who’s slowed due to cramps. You check on him before moving on with your run, going over and under every under pass you had previously passed. 

You run past traffic that has swelled thanks to one side of being cordoned off for the marathon runners. You dodge men on bikes trying to make their way to the grounds to join their friends for a  game of cricket. You even manage to catch the fag end of the half marathoners, something you’ve  never been able to do before.

As planned, at the 37th km take your final gel knowing you will need all the energy you can muster for this last few kms.

You pass Yogi and the 4:30 bus, cheering g them on as only you can do. In your head you know you are going to do better than what you did Dubai.

By now the sun is out and the weathers warmer than what it was. You feel yourself slowing down a bit as fatigue sets in, but thankfully there isn’t any signs of cramps or tightness. So you continue to push along, singing  to yourself your Dory song “Just keep running running, what do we do, we running running”, telling yourself “you’ve got this”.

By now you’ve caught up to a lot of the half marathoners, as well a the full ones. It’s time for that one final push. You take a sip of water and off you go. 

You no longer feel fresh and fatigue has set in. The sun’s out in all its glory making the weather warmer. You also encountering the end of the Half Marathoners which means you are dodging a through the crowd, weaving your way towards the finish line. Despite it all there’s no sign of fatigue and you running faster than when you started.

With one final push you make it across the finish line, finishing faster than when you started. You raise your hands triumphantly, pumping your fist as you let out a delighted scream. Although you didn’t manage to match your best time, but then that was never your goal, what you did do was run the best FM you had ever run. There was a lot of positive learnings from the race which you could carry forward in your prep and running TMM, giving you confidence that you could repeat what you did here again at TMM and try and do better. 

You stand patiently at the finish line waiting for Yogi to finish. You smile at runner runners finishing their runs, congratulating as they cross the finish line. Your burgers and fries calls you to see how you’ve done and you excitedly tell her all that you’ve done, like an excited golden retriever puppy.

You capture Yogis finish and you both proceed to join Ketak, who had finished ahead of you. You walk a while trying to loosen the tightened legs but then you are also socialising while doing so, clicking pics as you go. 

You collect your medal but decide to skip the breakfast and head back to the hotel and have good one there.

And just like that you’ve run your second marathon of the year, and your best ever marathon run. There’s a lot of positives but at the same time there’s a lot of lessons learnt on the importance of executing the race, something you know you’ll take with you to TMM. 

So you leave Ahemdabad with a happy heart and head held high and a feeling of confidence that marathon are not tough after all when you are well prepared for it.

Rolling down the river… I mean by the lake

When a runner chooses a race it’s either to get a podium or routes where you can achieve a PB (that’s Personal Best for my non-running friends). Since both don’t apply to you, you choose to do a race for the  experience.

Let’s face it, I don’t run that fast, so podium is obviously way out of the question, and then I am not that young to be chasing PBs achieved in earlier days (trying hard not to sound like a grandpa here). So when you run, you run more for the experience than anything else. And yes how much you can push yourself and see how well your training is coming along.

So when your burgers and fries suggests the Khadakwasla Ultra, you kind of jump at the chance, but with caution as you have a FM coming up in the immediate week. But when Coach says it ok to take it as a training run, then you go ahead and register for the 25k. And when coach too is joining you then it’s going an interesting road trip.

Races are always a good place to meet so many inspirations, especially race like these that are small and runners are well looked after and are  used by many as their training runs for their ultras. So you meet many runners using this as their last long run before their Border Ultra (one border you are sure going to keep away from).

So after a good night sleep (another first as this crazy soul is always needles and pins the night before), you wake up, dress up, lace up, and raring to go. But not before you do your warm up.

So you join your fellow runners who are doing the 25k (like you) or a 35k (like coach and your burgers and fries) in going through the motion. The 100k, 75k and 53k have already been flagged off (yes that’s what some of the runners were doing).

Once the warm up is done it’s time for the flag off with the 35k being flagged off first and then the 25k.  But runners will be runners  who are more bothered about the pre-race photo-ops than the actual instructions. So you had almost all the 25k runners starting off with the 35k runners. That leaves just you and few other runners (who like good bacchas paid heed to the instructions) who start off few minutes after the 35k runners have taken off.

So you start all your apps and you are off into the unknown, into the darkness, with just the moon for constant company, lighting your way.

You constantly fight the temptation of giving into the initial adrenaline rush and just speeding up, reminding yourself you need to take it easy and keep your pace below 7.

So you run by dark house with its occupants fast asleep, while dogs come barking to the gate. Then there are those who look up from their slumber to see who are these crazy people running at this ungodly hour, but then they are too sleepy do anything, so they return back to their slumber.

There’s a nip in the air, not too chilly that it would make you shiver, just right to have good run. Again you remind yourself that you need to control and take it easy.

The road for most part is good and you are glad you’re not dodging potholes which would have been difficult in the moonlight.

You steadily make your way past runners, letting the ones rushing pass you  go by. You slowly and steadily catch up with coach and your burger and fries, and glad to see them go steadily and surely.

So off you go on your own, along a few of your fellow runner, running by people all huddled up as they make their way to the temple of their morning prayers, while you run in your vest and your shortest shorts, flaunting your sexy legs (as Adi and Ritu call them). Surly you get those looks from people wondering if you don’t feel cold in what you are wearing. 

As you steadily run, trying to control your pace, you find yourself all alone with just a few runners here and there, and of course the moon and the road for company. Both there with you all the time. And you are grateful for their company as you follow them, or is it they following you. So when the road zigs, you zig, and when it zags you zag, while the moon goes from your left to the right and then to the left and back to the  right as the road zig-zags.

The air nice and crisp and the road is dotted with these beautiful orange wildflowers. Every now and then you get a smell of manure (it smell and not stench) as you pass houses with cattle shed.

Around the 8th km the lake finally comes insight, and there’s not much you can see in the darkness. You can make out the water and the dotted lights of the house in the distance.

You take this all in, after all you are here for the experience, and a bit of training. You try not to think too much or too ahead of yourself. You try to put a positive spin that every elevation will be a decline on your way back. You try not to bother about the elevation. After all a rolling route is way better than a flat one cause it keeps the run more interesting. Also for every incline, you can use the momentum to carry up the next one. So not much energy spent.

You try your best to smile for the shutterbugs on the route, after all you don’t want to look all frowny and grumpy in your pics, something you always end up doing.

By the time you reach the turnaround point for the 25k, dawn is gradually breaking with inky blackness slowly residing to a beautiful orange glow.

Now that the sun is up it’s time to put your pretty in pink neon glares on. Not that the sun is harsh, in fact the weather still has that coolness in the air, but then you want to make a style statement. So on comes the glares.

As you make your way back you pass a number of runners on their way. You cheer them on as only you can do cause every runners needs to be cheered on, and who knows your cheer can be the energy boost they need.

You see coach and your burgers and fries on the other side, so you stop to click them, as you said you would. After that it’s off on your way. 

By now you’ve found your rhythm, that comfortable pace that you have been steadily maintaining and building upon. You decide that your legs and body feel strong enough to push it gradually. Most importantly the rolling road doesn’t feel so daunting anymore (in fact it was never daunting). So you up your pace a bit, not trying to overdo it. 

You pass runners who were ahead of you, who are taking walk breaks on slopes. As you don’t feel the need to do the same as you have been handling the inclines pretty well, you continue to run, giving them a thumbs up and cheering them on.

By and by it’s just you and the road with the sun out to keep you company. Most of the runner doing 35k have passed you by in the other side and you have managed pass a fe runners who were ahead of you. You actually don’t mind being along in the road, cause somehow it feels quite soothing having yourself for company, and your music. So you continue to chug along at pretty neat pace with no signs of soreness and tightness or even muscle pain or fatigue or discomfort. So you are definitely doing something right, in line with what coach had instructed.

You even stop to click pics of the sun from the fields and while it lights up the road ahead.

 By now you’re quite comfortable at the pace you are running at. You even marvel st the fact that you manage to tackle the inclines, without getting overwhelmed by it. You pass runner who seem to be struggling with them while you, all fresh, steadily and comfortably handle those inclines (well not entirely comfortably as you feel a slight tightness in your quads). But on the whole you are running quite comfortably, running at a steady pace.

Finally you take the final right turn and you make your way up the gradual slope and to the finish line finishing quite strongly. 

As you cross that finish line, like all good runner me you first stop your watch and all the apps you had on  and then pose for pics at the finish line.

You make your way to the physio as you start to feel the strain on your right glute, for some much needed icing.

You then patiently wait for coach and burgers and fries to finish their run, hoping nothing untoward happened along the way, especially on the inclines and the rough patches. Hoping your burgers and fries didn’t get distracted with any of the kitties on the route.

You marvel at the fact that so many runners kept running beyond the finish line (often in circles) just to ensure they complete their mileage. Something only runners will do.

You are delighted to learn that your good friend Prabha secured a podium, and so happy and excited and proud for her.

By the time you you are all happy for Prabha, coach and burgers and fries make their way to the finish line and you like a happy holder retriever puppy (I’ve been told that I’m one) rush to cheer them and capture it. 

So you Hi Five coach and hug your burgers and fries checking if she is ok and then helping her to the recovery zone for her to ice her sore ankle and body.

After they collect their medals it’s picture time. But not before you refuel yourself with the breakfast. You congratulate all the podium finishers and then it’s actually picture time.

Once it’s time to make your way back to your room to make the trip back home. Surprisingly there’s no soreness whatsoever and so you are able to navigate the stairs easily cause that darn lift stopped working.

You are actually going to return back for a two hours Rueda class.

With that it’s another race in the bag but this one with a lot of good memories and most importantly lessons to take back and work on.  It’s a weekend well spent rolling down the river, I meant lake.

Running that Familiar Route… from Bandra to NCPA

I didn’t realise how sorely I missed the Bandra-NCPA Training Run, after all, for better part of the years leading to the Pandemic, it was my baby. I did feel bad (read guilty) stepping away from it, but it was something that I had to do, I felt I needed to do, to avoid being stressed by something I so loved to do.

But after all this time, standing there, outside Otter’s Club made feel nostalgic and a tad bit forlorn, but also good. It felt good to be back and top of things. Well not really on the top of things, just making announcements and giving instructions, and clicking the group pictures, and whatever pictures you can click while everyone’s doing the warm-up.

So once the warm-up done, instructions given, picture taken, it’s off you go. It actually felt nice running this route, and not running alone, but with Sharad, Manu and Rohan baba, or at least you trying to first catch up with them, and then keep up with them. But then that wasn’t going to be any problem.

So while you try and catch up, you realise they have taken a different turn, something that’s not part of the route you instructed the runners, but a route that would avoid all constructions and diggings and dark patches. It’s a route you know though you’ve never done it before, except coming from the other way. At the same time you also wonder if you should have instructed other runners to do the same. But this is not a simple route to understand and would be confusing to anyone who’s unfamiliar with the Mumbai (which can be confusing, make that disorienting with all the construction).

So you continue to play catch with the people ahead while looking over your shoulders if someone followed you, worried they would get more confused.

So finally when you catch with your friends ahead, there’s another catch up you need to do (a side note, we runners run, we don’t jog), trying to catch with all the missed conversations you should have had.

Bandra has always been a beautiful place to run through, rightly owning its title, Queen of the Suburbs. So as you run past graffitis Rohan baba remarks that you should be clicking pics, and trust me I would have loved to have done this, but hey you are running, even though there have been so many time where you have stopped and clicked, but at this moment time is of the essence.

Though you are supposed to run at a steady and easy pace, you realise that the pace is quicker than you thought you would be running at, all thanks to Sharad for going quicker and Manu for keeping up with him. For our part, Rohan baba and I content at running steadily, a little behind them, enjoying the little jibber-jabber as we run steady, keeping pace with each other. So there was no complaints from me and I don’t think Rohan baba had anything to complain about, though we occasionally looked at our watches to state that we were going faster. But we still kept going on.

I have always contended that the MRR route is the way of the Gods, with all the Holy landmarks you pass, like St. Michael’s Church, Mahim Darga, Siddhivinayak Mandir, Haji Ali, Babulnath, and to some extent Mahalaxmi Temple. With this modified route you also had Mount Carmel Church and aJapanese Buddhist Temple, adding to the piousness of the route.

As you run the route you feel this sense of familiarity though so much has changed around you, leaving you a bit disoriented at times. You’ve run this route several times before (if not the exaggerated thousand times) but so much has changed making you feel a little lost, leaving you with a sense of longing to see the things you used to see, the things the way they were before, that are now hidden behind barricades and constructions. You long to see the route the way it was before, but you are also aware that change is inevitable, and for city that’s bursting at it seems, these changes, no matter how tough, are needed.

So you continue to run with Rohan baba, occasionally motivating, pushing each other, but then our dearest Rohan baba has found a better leggy pacer a few meters ahead and so picks the pace, till the pacers goes another way (only to be seen somewhere near our last water station).

The benefit of running this route is the people you meet enroute, many who you don’t see unless you run in these parts of the city. I do love running in the park and meeting friends and fellow runners who run there, but sometime I do miss running in this side of town, maybe not much because of the route, but the people you meet on the road.

Well as you make your to the final stretch from Wilson’s College to NCPA you have to dodge traffic, the vehicular and human kind. You wonder… When did these streets get so crowded on a Sunday morning? When did so many people, other than us crazy runners, take to the streets so early on  a Sunday morning? What happened to sleeping in late on a Sunday? When did this all change?

The roads and pavements from Marine Lines to NCPA are full of kids and youth and the couples and the usual riff-raf(sure makes me feel old saying this) doing Garba, or some strange dance, doing karaoke, or just flaunting their ripped physique, or performing street plays, making Reels and other along countless selfies, So in short, doing total timepass.

What should have been a carnival of runners from various running groups is now a mela of people.

So you weave your way through the crowd, trying hard not to run into people making reels, or taking selfies, or simply gawking at the runners.

You finally complete your 21k (by the time Rohan baba has also done his) so it’s just a cool down walk till you meet your MRR folks. 

It feels good to be back to a place you love so much, around friends and runners. You high five and you hug people who you’ve not seen in a long while, while indulging in some picture take outing (like we runners love doing, after all how will the world know (and if not the world then social media know) that we went for a run), cribbing about the weather (when by now you should be used to the Mumbai weather), enquiring what’s the next race you’ve registered, and shamelessly crashing into photographs like only you could do and get away with (cause you’re not that innocent).

So in the end it’s a Sunday well spent, running a familiar route that’s continuously changing, and meeting a whole loads of friends on the way. What more would runner want!!! And hey did I mention it was Friendship Day too!!!

Running in the Park in the Rains

There’s something magical about running in the rains. You actually don’t mind it pouring, when you are out there running. Any other time it could be a pain, but not when you are  out there running. The rains are a welcome relief, a soothing balm to tired joints, natural coolant that keeps your body from overheating.

You ran through the heat and humidity. You sweated a bucketload of sweat, sometimes even causing your mother to wonder whether that’s sweat or did you pee in your pants. Though your mileage were low and the weather relentless, you continued to brave it through the heat and humidity. And now that the rains are here, you can slowly and steadily build on your distance while still making the most of the rains.

The rain has a way of making everything so magical and beautiful and romantic. The smell of rain on wet mud is simply intoxicating, filling your senses with this beautiful scent that’s oh so divine.

The moment you step into the park you are greeted by all this sound. It’s like every creature in the two mile radius thinks they’re Elvis. What would have been a cacophony of sounds is actually a symphony when it all comes together, nature’s very own orchestra.

Everything looks brighter and cleaner. The rains seemed to have washed away all the dirt and grime, leaving everything so clean and a little less dirty. Yes there’s the muck and the millions of puddles, but then that’s ok, it can be easily be overlooked, or overstepped, or just hopped across!

The trees too have shaken off all the dust and grime that they accumulated all the year round. They are all green and bright and fresh and light. It’s like a weight has been lifted off them and now they are light and bright and standing all glistening and glowing and green.

It fills your heart with joy to see the water in the stream, which had dried up for the summer. You know that as the season progresses, this would no longer be a little stream, but a flowing river, filled with water and morons, that also includes me.

The rain leaves the park all Misty, making it oh so dreamy, oh so mysterious. You wonder what secrets the park would hide behind that mist, would the furry one be lurking somewhere not too far.

And so you continue to run, with a spring in your step and joy in your heart, letting the rain fall on you, wan all of you, washing away all the sweat and grime, taking away all the weariness of your tired bones, cooling you, healing you, washing away the tears, giving you a cover to hide it from the world. 

You ensure that no puddle remains unvisited, no puddle remains unsplashed. You just run through it, instead of finding your way across it, never minding your shoes and socks is getting all wet, occasionally jumping right into it to create a splash, not bothering about the side eye you get from others, it’s the child in you that’s always going to want to make the most of a rainy day.

So you run, not bothering that it’s pouring, or that you are soaked to the bone (you would have been all wet anyway, from all the sweat), you just run, and let the rain wash away not just the dirt on your body, but also the pain in your soul, ultimately finding a way to soothe your soul. So you run for the joy in your heart, for the pain and anxiety, you don’t stop, you just run, and you just let the rain do its magic. 

What more could you ask from life when you get to run in the park in the rains!!

I ran a 50k.. but I am no Ultra Runner

So I ran a 50k, an Ultra, in running terminology (just in case you were wondering what is this jargon cause the only Ultra you know is your ultra strong beer), but I am no ultra runner. As I mentioned in my Insta post, that’s if you follow me, I.e. rodmandsouza (damn, me and my shameless self-promotion), a single ultra run doesn’t make you an ultra runner. I am neither inclined towards it nor do I have time to train for it , cause it can take the hell out of your daily life, that’s if you even have one thanks to us being slaves to our jobs. It’s never been on my bucket list of things I wanted to do (I did, at one time, toyed with the idea of running the Comrades), but still I found my myself standing at that starting line up waiting for the  click to strike 1:30 (that’s in the am and not the pm, and root cause of my bane).

So here I was at the starting line, waiting for the race start. I had done my stretching, courtesy of Coach, and done all the pre race mingling and socialising, so it was now the time to run. So moment the clock struck 1:30 and the fireworks went off, it was now time to run. So I start off all my apps (well it was three plus my iWatch, damn that’s a lot of tracking devices), make the sign of the cross (though I am not overly religious but these little beliefs I do), and I am off.

I realise I am bringing up the rear, there’s a sea of runners in front of me (surprisingly there are plenty of runners participating in the 50k), but try not to give into the temptation of speeding up. I have this constant voice in my head that sounded like Natty, Maya and my dearest Sangy ma’am , telling me to go slow and start easy and conserve energy, or maybe it’s just my sleep deprived mind playing tricks on me. But whatever it maybe, I am determined to run nice and easy.

So you run pass sleepy villages and sleepy dogs who just ignore you, their sleep way too important than to chase and bark after a group of crazy fools who are pounding the road instead of being tucked up in their beds. You run pass Bushy Dam and reach INS Shivaji, and from there begins your climb.

You decide to walk the slope, paying heed to the advice of Quintin and Ajay, not burning up energy tackling them. And while you run up the slow you take in the moment. The moon’s nowhere to be seen, and stars are out in all their glory. In the distance you have the lights of the town. And if that wasn’t enough, you have the headlamps which you were asked to carry, making it feel like a stream of fire flies slowly making their way up the hill, a kind of homage to the lantern scene from the movie Tangled.

So you slowly make your way up the hill, walking the slopes, slowly jogging where the route flattened. You can heat someone behind you chanting some shlok, which kind of bothers you, but then you are saying your rosary, like you always do (and because you are missing your Sunday mass), you try not to loose focus.

You finally make it to the top, and off you go, trying to run at a steady pace, walking up slopes, but running steadily and constant, not pushing for pace.

It’s a beautiful night, and although the moons is nowhere to be seen, the twinkling stars more than make up for it. There’s a chilly nip in the air that occasionally makes you shiver, making you feel glad you chose to wear a tee and not a vest, like you love to do. There’s silence, except for the feet stomping the road, and the chirping of crickets and the hum of the electricity flowing through the cables above.

You have this constant fear that you may need to crap, since you were not able to do your business in the morning, then you may need to go behind some bush to relieve yourself, like you have done before (shhhhh let this be our little secret). But thankfully that fear doesn’t come to pass.

As you pass by Cloud 9, you miss Srini Sir, with whom you have volunteered so many times in past training runs.

You continue to run up and down inclines and declines, past volunteers who are there in the dark to guide you, past photographers who make you hit your best strides and smiles, running slowly but steadily.

Soon you become kind of restless. You want the the u-then to appear soon, you already past the 35k u-turn, but your u-turn is nowhere in sight. It doesn’t help that you know when the turn will come and your apps doesn’t make it easy by telling you how far you are.

Then you see the first runner go by you, then a second and a third , and so and so forth. You gradually see all those fire flies coming your way, bringing you hope that the much awaited u-turn is coming up soon, but again your apps tell you to be patient .

You try to make out your friends, as they pass you, wondering if you could just turn there and joining them instead of running all those kms. But you continue to soldier on. When you you finally reach the u-turn, it’s like a great relief, you finally reached the halfway mark of you crazy adventure.

And then it’s hits you like a ton of brick. No, no, it’s not the infamous wall, but it was sleep. You begin to doze off, like only you could do, veering treacherously off the road, like a drunken runner who’s had one too many beers before going for a run, or a zombie that’s decided to take up running.

I try hard to wipe the sleep off my eyes, but that doesn’t help. I even put off my music and put my earbuds back. I constantly keep

pouring and splashing water on my face and my eyes, but that doesn’t quiet help either. For a few moment I am wide awake and then I am off in another world, only to find myself in the bushes, like only this sleepy head can do  (just ask Natty and Rups about my capacity to fall asleep). I even approach an ambulance hoping there’s someone who could help me, or even offer me a place to sleep. I even toy with the idea of just going off the road and going to sleep (after all the beautiful cool weather didn’t make it easy in my fight against sleep). I even contemplated about giving up, but then Greens don’t give up, oops I meant D’souzas never give up. So I once again soldier on, constantly battling sleep, constantly veering here and there like a drunken running fool.

A few runners stop by me asking me if I was ok. I sheepishly tell them, well make that sleepishly, tell them that I am ok, just damn sleepy. My head starts to question myself why did I even take up this stupid silly endeavour and at this ungodly hour. But for now there’s nothing I can do but like Dory, but on land, I have to just keep running.

I pass by water stations who by now have run out of water, making you feel the pain of all the slow runners, making you feel worried for the ones behind you. But you can only keep running and hope nothing untoward happens.

By now the suns up but you are grateful that it’s not hot but rather pleasant. The sounds of the birds chirping is like music to the lonely ears.  But every rustling sound in trees makes you attentive least something should leap out and surprise you, and not in a good way. 

By now your sleepiness has gone but there’s still quite a lot of road to cover, and you have miles to go before you sleep (couldn’t resist adding this) and inclines to cover. But now you can proceed steadily.

You finally reach then airforce station, knowing that now it will be just declines and rolling hills, things you can easily cover. So you grab a gloucose water and you are running steadily and strongly, knowing there’s roughly just 10 more kilometres to cover.

By now you are passing your well wishers who had stopped and checked on you when you were sleepy, who marvel on how you were able to make up time. You cheer your fellow runners on, like you love to do, and having conversations too. But once you hit downhill you run steadily and strong and focused knowing there’s just few more kilometres to go. And you got this in the bag.

You marvel at the fact that you haven’t felt s single cramp or muscle pull or soreness. So you definitely did something right. And touchwood, that wouldn’t happen for the last part of the race.

You surprise yourself that you are running at a pace that you started, and though it maybe slow, you don’t feel sore, just you feel a bit tired.

You finally hit the last part and you are even able to speed up and overtake runners, speeding down the ramp and to the finish line, without a single cramp.

You give yourself a cheer and a pat on your back for pushing through sleep and the urge of wanting to giving up, persevering on and getting the run done.

Well no run is complete without gratitude for the people who got you there.

So a big thank you to my dearest coach Jayesh, who has been pushing me and keeping me on my toes, and bearing with all my whining and grumbling (I can be quite the grumpy old man) with regards to my fitness and strength training, which is very important for us runner. 

To coach Girish for your constant motivation and inspiration and your tips and guidance on tackling TUM and not to forget the training runs (although I ran only once and volunteered for the remaining, which is more like me).

To my dearest Sangy ma’am, your advice is my blessing. 

To my support system, my backbone, my constant North Star, Nikhil, Natty, Maya, Rups and Yash, you all gave me so much positivity, and encouragement, even when I doubted myself.  You believed me more than I believed in myself.

To Quintin and Ajay, I learnt soo many things running with you both, so many things I could apply in the race and that worked well. 

To Dyloo l and Panks, I am because I was  able to run with you. 

And to my Stride with GB and MRR family, I am each day grateful that I am part of such wonderful group of runners who have constantly inspired and motivated and cheered me on.

And finally to my family, for being there for me (if my mum was there she would have scolded me for running s 50 and not a 35).

So to answer the question I started with, would running a 50k make me an ultra runner? The answer still is a resounding NO. Cause even though I was able to attempt and complete an ultra, I don’t see myself doing one again (although I am not quite shutting the door on that one), I don’t plan to run another. But then who knows, if some crazy pagal kutta may bite me and I will attempt another. So till then I will savour the fact I ran a 50k and was able to complete it.