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Third day of missed running.

Better today and hoping to be back into some action tomorrow.

I am surprised that I’ve taken a turn for the worse today. A worsening cold and a burgeoning cough.

I tested for Covid and the recent strains of influenza and that seems to be all clear.

Hunger along with the runny nose is the theme for the day.

While I want to eat that tub of ice cream and snack on chocolates, I am somewhat refraining.

What I simply need is routine.

So, I miss registering for one of the worlds great marathons.

And then I fall sick. When it rains, it pours. Or perhaps I need to remember gratitude and see this as a minor set back the week before the Delhi Half.

The head feels as if of cotton wool, my back is breaking and my voice is hoarse – either with the throat ache or with the number of home remedies I am bombarding myself with.

Come on. I need to climb out of this, back to training, into race season ahead and back to fun.

It is possibly the all time dumbest thing I have ever done. After qualifying for Boston at the Bombay Marathon earlier this year, I forgot to apply during the window of application.

After all these years. After pining for it. How could I. I slept badly last night, and even as I write this today, I am simply baffled. How could this happen.

I set alarms, reminders, to-do lists and so on for much of my life. I plan – or so I believe I do. Suddenly, I am not too sure. What else could I be missing. Then I swing to the defensive – that next year Boston wasn’t seeming like too much fun with back to back work right after – that I wouldn’t be able to enjoy the city. 

But who am I kidding. Onwards and upwards, they say?

Today, fat, useless, forgetful, bad throat, sleepy, disgruntled and feeling an overall ennui, nothing much seems onwards and upwards. 

Today, on easy run day, I decided to run later in the day.

Late afternoon found me and the family playing table tennis that was a fun and reminded me of my childhood, playing table tennis with my cousins.

When I said I would run my sister, the young boy and my nephews joined me for a time on feet session.

It was fun with a bit of scampering and scrambling playing tag.

Simple straightforward fun.

When the young boy and I started, the harvest moon was high in the sky, simmering an ethereal glow at the circumference. By our second lap at Nehru Park, it was lower, bigger, glowering. And then it seemed – as if suddenly – the sky changed colours. I pointed it out to him.

When he left, I carried on with my long run. Today is Saturday but because of a family dinner, I switched around the long run. Perhaps, I should do this more often. For too many family occasions, I have either skipped entirely or I have run on a few hours of sleep. In a sense, not got to enjoy the evening, or been in the present because I am waiting to go home.

I ran a long one at Nehru Park – or NP as I like to call it after ages. It was packed. Nearly as packed as Sunday.

Around the twentieth kilometre, I passed a runner who had passed me earlier. Thank god you are here, he said and caught up to me. I was getting bored.

How much do you have, I said. One more round, he said.

So, we ran that round together, silently. When he finished, he waved a thank you. I still had some ways to go.

For most of the day, I rode on a wave of adrenalin. Johns Hopkins puts it differently. But I believe the magic of exercise can’t be yet pinned down.

I had a brilliant mile repeats interval session today. I woke up feeling a special spring of confidence. As I laced up, I remember I told myself that the session would go well. 

When the young boy and I did warm up laps at the track, the moon hung low in the sky. Between the stadium ramparts, it glowed like a big fat lamp – or so I thought. Later in the day, my friend Aditi, illuminated this further (all puns intended) by sending me this article about the year’s last supermoon.

The track gang geared up in doing the interval repeats with me, and the young boy would join us for shorter intervals through each repetition. It was one of those days when things fall in place. I felt good right from the start. By the third repetition, I started to feel a near state of bliss. Later, through the other repetition cycles, it was simply joyous running.

Most of the track gang did the sets. Ashwini joined me throughout the run. Seeing the boys, Ashwini and Sujit running shirtless a few metres ahead, my arm brushing against Monu’s swinging arms, it was simply magical to be amongst them, in the thick of it. During the reps, as always, it’s infinitely easy to admire their running style, the way it seems to come naturally to them. That added ever more to the morning. That perpetual beauty in perpetual motion.

The young boy started each repetition with us. It is a joy to see him run and he enjoys the track gang. He likes their no nonsense approach to running, their boisterous manner.

When it was all over, it was elation. Now for the long run tomorrow. 

I went to track today after a week. It felt longer than that. It was a simple time on feet run in Lane 10.

The week has been pushed forward by a couple of days because of the jet lag allowing me a bit of adjustment to do the intervals tomorrow.

I’m not sure whether I’m ready for a PB at the Delhi Half. The last couple of weeks have felt topsy turvy.

I hope, fervently, that I haven’t lost much fitness. That a good routine ahead, losing the balloon of water retention that I have formed, will get me back to shape.

Today in Lane 10, the worries dissipated – nothing like getting the job done as to first get it started.

It’s been a historical Sunday at the Berlin Marathon. The women’s world record was broken by two minutes by Tigist Assefa.

Eluid Kipchoge, that king, won a record fifth title at Berlin.

And so today, I thought of them as I ran in new shoes (Kipchoge branded, no less) and completed an easy time on feet run. 

I thought of their astonishing pace – how does a human move at twenty kilometres an hour? I thought about their bodies, the engine within that makes them traverse these distances at that speed.

To see the professionals run boggles the mind. That swiftness with that elegance. For me, it’s human at its utmost beautiful.

And to think that largely anyone can run – perhaps not with that same speed or elegance – but that an amateur, an everyday person, a first time runner can lace up at the same race as the world’s best professionals is one of the greatest highlights of this sport.

It makes this sport an endeavour of endurance that is incredibly unique, egalitarian, equal and bonds us as runners and people, with unmatched simplicity.

Just a run. Just running.

Back in Delhi, with jet lag, lack of sleep and a morning meeting, I missed the run today.

With a couple of weeks to go for the Delhi Half, I’m worrying about missing anything.

I’ve read the reassurances about a few missed runs not causing a loss in fitness but it doesn’t sit well with me. And from what I can tell – possibly with most runners.

With some commitments in the weeks ahead – both social and work – I will have to manage best I can – with some extra effort.

Routine. That wonderful world. At this point, I yearn for my routine.