Running the Highway

I have been running now for well over eight years, and not once have I run the highway. Ok, not in its totality, maybe just partially. Well today I can tick that box off.

When you run the highway you keep your ears open for the vroom of those pesky bikers who keep racing their machine. You keep ears open as vehicles zip by you at well over 60 miles an hour, should you misjudge (or they misjudge and knock you down). So you run in a single file, keeping pace with each other, constant lookout for each other, cause on the highway you are each other’s support.

As long as we are in the vicinity of Aarey, the air has this coolness about it, there’s a nice light breeze in the air (all the more reason why we need to save Aarey from the greed of the politicians and builders). But the moment you moved away from it , the heat and humidity begin to hit you, gradually at first but then like a ton of bricks falling on you out of no where. Despite the heat you soldiers on, you continue going, even though your vest clings on to you from the sweat, and sweat drips from your pants as if you have peed in them, you continue on, running in a single file constantly on the watch out for each other , constantly supporting each other, at least till you join the MRR runners at Mahim. 

Now there was a plan to take every flyovers. So you crossover and take the slope, keeping a lookout for traffic, trying not to be run over. They seemed to go on and on, once up you run for a km or more, or say it may seem, before you got off before taking the next one. You thought you would have muttered some curses or hexes under your breath, but surprisingly you made it through. Maybe it was thought that it would make running on inclines simpler. But then Peddar Road would sure be a pain in the back.

So after running over 12 km your see the first MRR Runners (it wasn’t that we hadn’t see runners on the way) the water station felt like a relief, cause the heat seemed to get you, and your legs felt sore and tight, almost lead like. You greet your friends as you see them, sometimes even passing them, only to be passed when you slowed down.

At Haji Ali you are greeted by tea runners as they go by. You see a group of trail runners who seemed to have lost their way and found themselves on the road instead of a trail. After some light moments and selfie clicking, it was off to face the dreaded Peddar Road.

Now reaching the inclines of Peddar Road the leadden legs refused to run, so you walk your way up that slope, but then that was the plan after all the flyovers. The sun slowly reaches its apex making you pull your cap down to avoid its glare. By now, thanks to the heat and humidity, fatigue sets in and it seems like you have hit the wall well ahead of the 30th km. So you have to resort to walk and run, more like more of walking and little jogging.

On Marine Drive you begin to feel the brunt of the October heat. You are now more walking than crawling (cause you’re no longer jogging either), afraid to pull a muscle but the determination to complete it fuels you in. So you walked, crawled, jogged right up to NCPA. Having slowed down meant that I had to miss the group pic and show Sammy all the love (but then that’s for the women to do).

Finally reaching NCPA all you wanted to do is collapse and fall a sleep at the very spot Where you collapse, but Sunday’s meant that NCPA was a Runners mela. So you meet greet, enthusiastically talk with friends, be introduced to new runners, strike conversations, socialise, smile and preen for photos and selfies (more of selfies). So after having one crazy time, and helping rid off the trash it was time to join your fellow runners at Pizza by the Bay for breakfast and then head back home, with your head held high for the mileage you achieved despite the heat and humidity.

LMR - Last Minute Running

This Sunday morning felt like being back at school doing some last minute cramming before that all important paper, trying to revise as much as possible and hoping against  hope to remember all that you crammed. Only this time that important paper is the Mumbai Marathon and the last minute cramming is the last long run before you should ideally begin your tapering (of which I know nothing).

So after the customary group picture And showing Sam all the love we could, and keeping a moment of silence honouring the memory of our dearest Raviji, it was off to run on a cold January morning. Well not quite off, there was still some last minutes instructions and handover to do. So by the time I began my run most of the runners and volunteers had dispersed. 

The weather was nice and cold, ideal for running (just praying to the weather Gods to keep the weather the same till after the 21st). But then there was the problem of the popping out handsfree that just refuse to sit in the ear, and a jack that was loose. So whenever I tried to put my phone in my water belt, it would come lose and the music would stop, much to my annoyance as I run with music which helps to distract me from the torture and effort of a long run. So after some anxious frustrating moments, and almost a km, finally managed to get it right and pick the pace.

So off I went at a steady pace, a bit better than an easy pace, cheering and encouraging and greeting my fellow runners. I even surprised myself at the pace that I had managed. Now I must admit that very often I don’t quite know the people who greet me. I know them by face and not by name. It’s not that I am a proudy, I just blame it on the fading grey cells that make it difficult to remember names. But one thing I do remember are faces and always happy to see the familiar ones as well as the new ones too.

Wanting to do 30 plus kms (as I said this would be my last long prep before TMM... though I miss calling it SCMM), decided to take Malabar Hill, after Peddar Road, instead of going down Babulnath (and after seeing the state of the Babulnath Road, I am glad to have taken that detour).

After doing Peddar Road, running up a constant slope of Malabar Hill caused my poor legs to scream (you see slopes are bette noire but I still run up them). “Rodman, what have we done to you? How have we offended you? Answer us!” They seemed to wail, to which my Head responded, “abhe nautanki sala, jyada natak mat kar, chup chap bhag” (I swear sometimes I do think in Hindi ).

So without any further grumbling, continued the climb. Seeing many runners go the other way got me a bit worried if I was going the right way, or would I have to take a u-turn and return the way I had come. Somehow managed to calm a over-hyper mind and continue on past those posh Walkeshwar localities.

Finally came to a turn, a road leading down and met a familiars face in Sukhi who was very sukhily going about his run at a brisk pace. So after very enthusiastically waving at each other it was off towards Girgaum Chowpatty. 

Seeing the sunrise, with its reflection on the wet shore, caused me to reach for my mobile and capture the world as I saw it, only to be irked by the earlier ear bud situation. So out of frustration took my phone in hand and continued on my run.

Now part of the road from NCPA to Chowpatty was kept for cyclist, but it was now besieged by runners, especially the ones with their gulabi tees, who forever I shall call gulabos. Now the gulabos were behaving quite prickly and not easily conceding way to other runners. Even the poor cyclist, for whom the lane was created, had to ride on the road. Running among the gulabos made me feel like a bee in the sea of gulab (how I wish I could have stung some).

Somehow managed to wade through the gulabos and made way to NCPA. On the way greeted some more runners (some of whom are so contagious with their enthusiasm), clicked selfies and continued to wade through the gulabos. 

Reaching NCPA quickly gulped water and some Fast and Up at the final water station and once more made my way to Wilson’s College with the knowledge that I still had six more kilometres to go. 

Though the sun was out, the weather was still quite chilly, or was it cold or cool, well whatever, the weather was nice and pleasant, and the gulabos were slowly being guided towards Fountain side (or I assumed that’s where they were heading to). For my good luck the water station at Wilson’s was still open. So once again hydrating myself and a brief chat, it was return journey to NCPA.

By now my limbs began to grumble. Though they seemed to refrain from wailing for the fear of being fatkoofied by the Head once more. But they we solely tightening. So had to walk, crawl or do anything, but I was determined to get to that elusive 30 kms. Finally reached NCPA  right in time for the photo op with the volunteers. Sat down on the pavement and just wanted to be there unless some got a big enough spatula to pick off the pavement.

Nike Run Club said I had completed 32 km in 2:56 where as Garmin gave a similar distance for 3:06 ( as NRC pauses when you stop running/moving). Whatever the time may have been I was glad to get that distance under my belt, right in time for the Mumbai Marathon.So breathed a sigh of relief for finally squeezing in a 30 plus run, bringing a sense in confidence that now I was ready to face the 42. The only hope that the weather Gods held up their end of the bargain and the weather didn’t do a 360 just before race day.