Wanted to do it in under one hour. Did it with 7 minutes to spare. Results here.
Have signed up to run 8 kms on the 26th with less than 11 days to go. It’s in a picturesque surrounding. Should be fun. What’s more it’s a women-only run. Will let you know how that went. So, how have you been?
Most mornings I’m the only jogger in the park. And that’s fine by me. This morning however, there was one other person out running. And the first time I noticed him was when I heard loud footsteps behind me. It grew louder as he gained ground on me and soon I was left looking at his fast-retreating back. And that’s when I realised how much I disliked running behind someone or have someone egg me from behind. During my college years I was in the NCC and we had to run 3kms in a reasonable time in order to qualify for the state contingent headed for the Republic Day parade at Delhi. There were limited number of places and a fair bit of competition. During the selection camps we had to do a 3km race every other day and our timings would be noted. Those performing consistently poorly would not make it to the next round. Although I would come in the top 6 places, I hated the pressure it put on us.
Anitha was a natural and relaxed runner. She’d finish a few seconds before or after me and would later joke about we were both fighting for the same place in the contingent. Somehow, I could never quite relax while I ran. Especially when I knew that Anitha was at my heels just waiting to overtake. And on days when she did, she would turn her head, smile at me as if to say ‘catch me if you can’ and then jog ahead. I would chase after her not willing to just let her beat me. And if she did beat me, I would be so mad at myself for not trying harder.
Today when I saw the jogger in the distance, for a brief moment I wondered if I could catch up with him. Just then a sudden flash of sunshine from behind me cast a shadow of me on the ground. In my silhouette, I saw a middle-aged woman and her child-bearing hips. When I looked up, the other jogger had already disappeared into the distance. I plodded along.
Time run: 43 mins
Distance: 3 miles or so
Usha’s post in Ageless Bonding reminded me of something I had long forgotten. Back in the days when I used to go jogging in Chennai, I would often hear my parents refer to it as ‘walking’. She’s gone walking, I’d hear Appa tell someone. Or Amma would ask me what took me so long to come back from my ‘walk’. It would bother me somewhat but didn’t really wish to correct them. But when I think about it now, I wonder why they could not say ‘jog’. You could argue that they were familiar with the word. And a casual observation on any morning would reveal more walkers than joggers. So perhaps they really did think I was out walking. But they knew that I was in the NCC where we had to run 3 kms regularly and it was for these runs that I was training. I can only imagine that they thought that running was not a good activity for a girl to be seen doing in public (what with heaving and undulating boobs and all). And that walking was a far more respectable choice of exercise. I jog these days. And if someone wants to stare at my bouncing bosoms, they are welcome to.
Time run: 42 mins
Distance: 3 miles (approx)
So, yesterday I had to climb 88 steps inside a small tower. And I had to carry my little one with me. The young man is not an easy one to carry and my older one would not listen to my protests and insisted that I come along. So with a ‘Jai Bajrang Bali’ off we went. The firstborn leading the way and me puffing in his wake. But I did it. I climbed 88 steps carrying a boy of 13-or so kilos. It’s a different matter that my legs feel absolutely knackered.
Distance hobbled: 3 miles
Time: 45 mins
When you are out at a certain time of the day 3 times a week, you start noticing a pattern. Like the blue van that comes around the mini roundabout. Like the school bus (that early?) that makes its way to the bus stop. Like the mum from school who waves out to you on her way to work (that early?). Like that jogger who barely ever raises his eyes but who you wish ‘morning’ to anyway. Like that pair of Siberian huskies who lead the lady on their morning walk. You wonder if they ever notice you. And if they do, what they’re thinking.
Distance: 3 miles
Time: 42 mins
I have an i-shuffle (or whatever that white matchbox like thing that plays music is called) which has a wonderful selection of music which a dear friend put together for me. I listen to it on when I’m out running. This morning as I set out I couldn’t find it. So I went out without my little matchbox. And what a wonderful blessing it turned out to be. For the first time, I heard early morning birdsong. I failed miserably trying to identify any of them. But that didn’t take away from the joys of listening to birds twittering away noisily. I loved it so much that I was almost sad to discover the matchbox sitting under the cushion on the sofa.
Distance: 3 miles
Time: 40 mins