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I was hoping to get to Nehru Park by or before dawn. But that was thwarted by early morning pollution.

I ended up watching early morning television and then sleeping on the couch. Dragging myself out of bed, mid morning, I made my way to Nehru Park.

It was ten straight rounds of the Niti Marg – Shanti Path loop and a bit of out and back after to finish up at thirty.

When I began, there were still some familiar runners out here who probably had the same idea as me. As the morning wore along, the park exchanged places with the morning crowd giving way to the afternoon family picnickers.

Some of us runners persisted, continuing to dodge traffic on Niti Marg, but running an extremely quiet inner lane of Shanti Path. Thus, the loop today was a parallel of two Delhi’s. The Delhi settling into Sunday fun, and the Delhi of embassies and high commissions with a few guards gossiping eyeing a lazy cricket game in the median.

When I finished, I was well and truly spent. This run had been a long time coming.

Because I switched around my interval to Friday, I jumped on the treadmill for a quick one before heading off to work.

Thinking back on my mental intervals run today with Gaju at Nehru Park, I was struck by the names of the roads around this beloved area.

Niti. Shanti. Vinay. The meanings seemed to reflect a value system that could apply to just about anything.

Today’s intervals were just crazy. They went on forever. They seemed like they would go on forever. It was as much mind as it was the body.

In these roads named for peace, principles, ethics, guidance, Gaju and I went all out, running in step with each other, pushing our limits, doing the training.

The morning was clear, the pollution was low and Nehru Park beckoned for a run.

I asked the young boy to join me for a part of it. We decided to alternate between running inside the park and the Shanti Path loop. It was a lazy Christmas morning with little traffic; lesser than a usual Sunday.

We teased each other calling names chaparganju and chintu and hilarious, mindless ribbing. Round after round went by – teasing, chatting, enjoying the late morning run, the air that was so much better, the rays of sunlight pouring through the trees.

With a couple of miles to go to get us to 15 kilometres, the young boy hazarded he had done perhaps five. I told him I would tell him the number after one more round of the Shanti Path loop. Then he second guessed wondering if it was more – I seem to be running for a long time, he said.

At the end of the loop, when I revealed that we only had a mile to go to round up to fifteen, he couldn’t believe it.

I couldn’t either. We had simply enjoyed a morning out, kept it to an easy pace and built up naturally, pace and distance, to finish the most amazing run of the year, at the most perfect park on Earth.

When I woke up this morning, the air was better. Finally. A much needed respite. I asked the young boy if he would like to join me for the one minute prescribed intervals. He readily said yes. That was simply wonderful.

We did the run and the intervals in the driveway. It was so good to be out, and so fantastic to be able to do some fast efforts.

That the young boy was with me was quite the perfect Christmas Eve morning.

I had read and hoped that the air would be better this morning. I confirmed with Coach Ravi and reached the track parking only to realise the pollution was insane. So I drove back home in bad fog, missed a couple of turns back home and eventually got back forty five minutes later.

I made the young boy do his intervals on the treadmill and then jumped on for yet another treadmill run.

This time I had Silsila music for company, and thought about the recent trip to Madurai, Nainika and I listening to the music, Nainika singing to iconic songs, transporting me to other places.

Rest on Monday after a really hectic weekend but managed treadmill running.

Because I had to coach the young boy for forty five minutes, I only got in five kilometres before getting him on the treadmill. He wanted M. S. Subbulakshmi’s Hanuman Chalisa. We’ve been listening to this quite frequently.

Once he was done, I was back on for sixteen more. I broke that up by getting to twelve, taking a short break to have some water and got back on in under a minute to do another four.

Then settled into a wonderful cello class that rounded up the first half of the day.

The treadmill is a great friend but it can also be a terribly boring friend. I have to admit that with so many runs post Diwali on the treadmill, I am more used to it than before. The tedium, the mind games, the playing with the incline and speed. Perhaps it’s just me, but to put in that 60-70 minutes is never easy – not on the TM.

This time the young boy was in the gym while I was running for about half an hour coaching me, changing pace, changing incline. The positions had reversed.

For the last half hour, I blasted my track playlist and got the job done.

I came back home a bit earlier today and jumped on the treadmill for a run that turned out to be promising. While my chest still hurt a lot at the same location, I am nearly certain that I haven’t broken a rib.

I finished a ten on the treadmill and was again ready for yet late and hectic evening ahead.