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On Independence Day – I should have gone to run to Nehru Park. If anything to just see the festive atmosphere. I guess the break was needed because of my back.

Before my eyes the air went orange merging with the ochre of the track. For a hundredth of a second. The air around me flashed with lightning. Surely, I thought, the lightning had flashed just above Shiva and I, running lane nine of a near empty track. The thunder followed a few seconds later roared with aggression.

It poured throughout the run. Lightning and thunder twinned around us. Coach Ravi and Coach Nikhil clapped and cheered on the few runners that made it on the track.

Normally, I would have loved such a run. But the saga of my back continued. Every loop, I whimpered at some point as my back reminded me of its presence and pain. I tried to focus on good energy and vibes and for a moment or two, it seemed better. Then again thwack – something would jam and I would limp to get back to pace. Twice I stopped.

But I continued on. It wasn’t a big deal really. Perhaps what got to me was thinking about it constantly and not enjoying the weather and the rain like I should have.

It was awesome to have Shiva for company. He ran in a loping style even though we were running easy and slow especially by his standards. Tall, good looking – what’s with all these runners at the track?

Meanwhile, I limped beside Shiva’s youthful energy. An apt name, I say, and an apt run with the Gods above thundering down until all was washed out.

With my back in a jam, the intervals were not easy at all. But I found out the hard way – while doing them.

The lower back kept going into a weird spasm every now and then, resulting in me making strange noises and a sort of hop, slip, skip and jump to get back into a painful rhythm. A tingling sensation ran up and down my right leg.

I finished the intervals in some misshapen fashion, beaten but not broken.

Today I started with Gaju and a young man named Shiv Sharma joined us. I hope I have his name right. Gaju peeled off after a few rounds of the track. The other young man and I continued on in lane nine. It was a continuous easy run.

Clearly bored, we asked Coach Ravi if we could head out. So we did. About 32 minutes of running at track and 29 minutes of running on the road.

Gaju joined us on the road again. He pointed to his right IT band. I nodded.

Back at home, I stretched and did a quick and hopefully effective core workout.

Because yesterday I worked out after a while and aggressively did a set of deadlifts, I must have pulled and pushed my back and hamstrings. I woke up nearly as stiff as a board.

I started off earlier than usual for the long run today. Gaju said he would join me. By the time he came, I had run just over a kilometre in the darkness. But there were already a dozen cars at Nehru Park. The skaters were there too. With their coaches and parents following them in cars. In half hour, this place would be swamped with the usual Sunday rigmarole.

After a loop, I decided it was time to go towards India Gate and hopefully catch a less busier Sunday morning. Evading some obvious Saturday night cars, down Teen Murthi, then cutting to Safdarjung Road, and a left down Aurangzeb Road, it was finally all peaceful. Not a soul in sight. The dark sky was just giving way to a pre-dawn dark indigo.

The wide avenues led to roundabouts and more lengths of empty tarmac. Occasionally, a car zoomed by.

We came up to the India Gate hexagon, harked right, past Pandara Road crossing, and turned into Dr Zakir Hussain Marg. Down the straight and left towards Khan Market and Lodi Gardens. I expected to see a whole bunch of runners here but it was quiet down the Amrita Shergill Marg. One dog lounged lazily in the middle of the road.

Took a right at Lodi Road, joined back Safdarjung, taking the L shaped road to join back at Racecourse, passing the Prime Minister’s residence, and joining back at Nehru Park. All this in a near silent run.

We still had eleven more kilometres to go.

It’s surprising nearly always, how long a kilometre is. The loop I described was just fifteen kilometres and that too after making a round around Shanti Path as a precursor to heading out.

Then we ran a tangled shape in the embassy area, going this way and that, by now both of us desperate to finish the run.

On the way home, I had a litre of electrolytes which gave me enough charge to put in half hour of circuit workout – twenty exercises x twenty repetitions. Then I settled into a big, hopefully well deserved breakfast.

I attended a culture festival in Bombay a couple of days ago and one session (as of course it would be on today’s times) was on artificial intelligence and the performing arts.

After the interval session at the track, I thought, might there be a future where machine learning or artificial intelligence can do the intervals for me. Ludicrous? Perhaps literally.

Could a device tethered to the body, perhaps a next to next generation Oura ring or Whoop bracelet, make my heart beat faster and mimic the exhaustion of intervals even as I lie down and watch a season on AppleTV?

Imagine that. Sitting on a couch, breathing heavy, panting, and letting some device control your body. Sounds like bad sex.

But to imagine even further, a device that it is autonomously programmed to make your cardiovascular and other systems do work or rest or sleep as it monitors what should be the best outcome for your body and mind. That you set it on autopilot. That perhaps it can give you micro-doses too – an upper or a downer depending on the chemical (im)balances of your body.

But hey man. I just want to run with curly haired Gaju. I just did ten hard 500s with him. With every walk back to the 100m start point, feeling exhaustion and exhilaration with doses of impatience, wanting the session to finish.

No way I am letting any robot do the work on my behalf on a couch. Perhaps I am just old school like that – I don’t wear a Whoop or let Garmin or Apple Health tell me if I am in optimum mode or I need recovery or more sleep.

That’s just me dumbing me down. One way or the other.

Back from Bombay today to a rest day.

I had a flight later this morning to my favourite Indian city other than Delhi – Bombay.

I also had a 16 kilometre run. Gaju, another young boy whose name I don’t remember, and I started off with Coach Ravi at 5:03 AM.

The Bakhtawar Singh Marg leads to the Satyapaul Mittal Marg which ends neatly at the three kilometre mark at the T-junction. A left at Vikas Marg takes you down to a four way crossing at a perfect six kilometre milestone where the road becomes St Thomas Marg which at exactly eight kilometres joins at a T-junction at Golf Course Road with the imposing Camelia apartments looming in front of us.

A U-turn from there and it was back to home base well in time. Home, cup of tea and to the airport.

Because of a late night, I woke up late. But I couldn’t bear to miss today’s intervals so I went to track in the evening. I shared with Coach Ravi that I would come and not only did he appear but so did Gaju.

At 415 PM in the afternoon, it was searing hot and in parts of the track the stadium cast long welcoming shadows.

Gaju and I had the track nearly to ourselves. There was a group of kids doing some drills on the side but other than that, the red track shone empty in the afternoon sun.

The intervals were short but felt brutal. Surprisingly I managed them within the stipulated times.