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After the double run yesterday today was total rest day as inputted by my coach.

A big plate of chole bhature at the legendary Bengali market rounded up the rest day perfectly well.

Perhaps the sun has started rising just a minute or two earlier. Shyly, slyly.

The bluish tinge of the sky in the eastern horizon, just about reveals the earth inching away from winter. At least in our part of the world.

The run in the morning saw Jeet, Gaju and I on the road, running quietly, the occasional sound of traffic, and the nonstop singing of Coach Ravi in the most besura voice.

I wanted to beg him to stop, but then again, the man was cycling along us for over an hour.

In the evening, because I wanted to just get on with it, I put on my running shoes and ran in my work clothes. It’s possibly the first time I have done this. Surprisingly, it was easy. Nothing officious about it.

I’ve written about Yasso 800s later and remember reading and then writing about these intervals being honest.

It was a good effort with Jeet and Gaju and as the intervals went by, the time reduced – by mere seconds – but I know how tough that was.

Towards the end of these twelve repeats, it took some digging into, to get into the zone, to feel that I can do it – Gaju egging me on, Coach Ravi shouting out splits, that’s track morning.

Gaju and I ran about five kilometres at the track and then with Coach Ravi on his scooter – a recurring theme these days – we took off towards Bakhtavar Chowk and straight on.

This neat line from the parking lot to the T point is exactly three kilometres. It never changes. It is just so. Sometimes I wonder if life should be like that too. Exactly predictable. But perhaps these are all the predictable waypoints that life needs.

A core workout rounded up the morning and prepared me for the day ahead.

I watched a movie last night, slept late and gleefully thought I was playing hooky since I didn’t have training today.

Today, Sunday was probably one my longest runs this past season. What is season though? I run and train year round.

But perhaps the time from July onward becomes about race possibilities. It’s a great challenge to do a PB or sometimes to just run a race without looking at the watch. But over time, the training, the track, the track folks, Nehru Park, regular running days, just the rhythm of running routine is what means everything to me.

As I exited the car, I saw Shikha race past. It was a 35k day and the company would be helpful to say the least. It took me nearly two kilometres to catch up to her. She was already on her seventeenth kilometre. Hers was a 40k run so that meant I could run the next couple of hours with her.

After a very short exchange, we ran quietly, alternating between Shanti Path and Vinay Marg around Nehru Park. We saw the pink blush of the sky come up and in the next loop the same horizon turned into a ghostly pale white.

For no reason it reminded me of the Galliano show for Maison Margiela. Or perhaps the sky within two rounds perfectly reflected the make up possibilities of a couture show.

On we went then towards the arc of Niti Marg to Nyaya Marg, past the usual dogs outside the American embassy and then around towards the parking for Shikha to complete her run with a quick high-five and bye.

I put on headphones, had a swig of electrolytes and started off again to complete my run. Picking up pace but keeping it comfortable, running the familiar loops, I finished the Republic Day very long effort.

Or so it felt after finishing these four mile repeats. Thank goodness, I did these on the road. Coach Ravi, Gaju and I stood around at track debating whether to them at track or road.

I’ve done all sorts of workouts on the track – including long efforts – but these were definitely better done on the road.

With Coach Ravi on his white scooter and by our side, Gaju and I set off for these long efforts. Ever grateful – a fantastic morning – blistering, rambunctious, mad running.

After the double run yesterday, took the day off.

Raat mein gaye aur raat mein hi aaye, said Coach Ravi as we approached the stadium after a fourteen kilometre loop. True, I thought looking at the dark sky around us.

Nearly the whole track gang had joined in for a road run but eventually splintered into smaller groups taking different routes. Jeet, Suryansh, Khushbu and I stayed together. Coach Ravi on the trusty bicycle by our side. It was a familiar route until Bakthtavar Chowk and then down towards Taj Gurgaon. After that, into unfamiliar territory, turning left towards the national highway and then banking left on the highway itself.

Taking an exit, a narrow road through residential area that seemed even darker, colder and quieter than the main road, we ran back towards our original route. Finally, joining the Taj road, we ran back to the stadium.

Khushbu chatted quite a bit, if only to herself. Suryansh, laughed occasionally, ribbing at her, and Jeet didn’t say a word. Coach Ravi was busy driving away dogs or checking in on the distance with me.

In the evening, it was on the treadmill to complete the double run effort. As much as a trusty treadmill is a great friend, this evening run was boring and I counted it down to complete it.

It was interval day at the track and I had fifteen repetitions of one kilometre.

At first the session was daunting – to say the least – but after a couple of repetitions, I seemed to get the hang of it and I got into a good rhythm. I kept checking in on myself, staying within a couple of seconds for each interval.

Gaju joined me for the full session and Jeet for most, although Jeet ran faster than I did.

The rest of the track gang were doing their training – possibly 400m or 800m – so they would burst from behind – legs, arms flying.

Towards the end, the sky just about started to turn pink at the horizon and I gunned down the last interval ‘like a train’ said my kind Coach after reviewing my timings online.