It was 3,2,1 x 3 times day. Doesn’t sound like a lot. Wasn’t insane. But was a lot in itself.
Per bhar gaye, as Gaju said to me during the last set.
It was good to be back. The track was abuzz with the usual folks. Coach Ravi’s cast was off; instead a crepe bandage around his arm. He had grown a beard. Other than that, and that the summer humidity was here to stay for the foreseeable future, everything was just the same.
A lot had happened in the world in these past two weeks. I am sure a whole lot had happened in the lives of the folks at the track. But it seems just for this hour or so, this is a pattern of life that is predictable. It’s cocooned in its own ebb and flow of putting in the training, an expectancy to see many of the same folks. There are no nasty surprises here.
There were ten lanes yesterday. Same today. Oh you could have a bad day but that’s just you and your body. Most likely you will have a great day. Just out of consistency. Perhaps the kids who are training to get better feel a deeper sense of frustration if their timing doesn’t improve a whole lot. But still. There is peace here. The whistle blows. You run. You stop and rest. You run again. You trade a few words with coach and compatriots. You stretch and go home. Or rather this is home and you got out into the world.
Writing about Running 