It had been a pleasant hour of running together. But now, I was on my own with seventy-five minutes ahead of me.
I quickened the pace, feeling the effort but keeping it at a manageable threshold. What did this feel like, I asked myself. About seven out of ten.
Niti Marg, Shanti Path. Loop after loop. As I progressed, I became faster. I wanted to get it done and I wanted to reach a number by the time I finished this long run session.
Alone, mindful of pace, distance, and effort, I found focus on the task at hand – the run – the mindfulness of effort – the calculation of time left, balance kilometres, present pace – faster kilometres resulting in more time in the bank but the trade off with effort. The slightest of adjustments leads to keeping it at a seven, a bit of pick up edges it towards eight.
At the end I finished the distance within the prescribed time with seconds to spare. The overall effort was a six-seven. The precision that running can bring – that what the mind and body working together can make happen – is one of the most astonishing joys of this sport.
When I drove back, I noticed the fountain from yesterday at the Satya Marg Niti Marg roundabout. There was no white-throated kingfisher this time, but the fountain was switched on, spouting sprays of water high into the morning air awash with Delhi’s monsoon summer.
Writing about Running 