Skin as if leather and bearing a serious expression, I have seen this man for over two decades. We know each other, cursorily but hardly get the occasion to meet. But recently, I have crossed him on the road nearly every time o drive to Nehru Park. There he is running up and down the long sloping Jawaharlal Nehru University stretch.
I’m neither sure of his distances nor his time on feet but it sure feels endless. And from what I know of previous stories and conversations, it’s several hours of running. Whatever the stories of lore might be, I have endless admiration for runners who above all else have uncanny consistency and an unshakeable commitment. For runners like him, it cannot be unlike oxygen, it’s not even training anymore. That word got left behind at germination or perhaps never existed.
It’s a state that I meander in between my goals. In between effective training months of which my current state may be adequately described as the longest since Covid days. This meandering.
Writing about Running 