Today when I drove out, I regretted it. The fig was bad enough that I couldn’t see more than a metre or two, using the sidewalk as a guide to drive to Nehru Park. Regret might be the word, but I still persisted and drove on. What else.
When Gokul and I started we couldn’t see much in front of us. A round or two in, the light started to come up but the fog barely lifted.
But Niti Marg and Shanti Path were filling up with the stubbornness of runners through the mist, pollution, wintry temperatures and fog.
Writing about Running 