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I woke up slightly late because I worked till past midnight. Putting on my Jabra headphones, it was a simple up and down effort. A short core workout rounded up the morning before rushing out the door.

I started the day off early with work and a quick haircut. A long day with multiple meetings and preparations.

This morning I started off immediately at tempo. I settled a few kilometres in and ran consistently for fifteen kilometres, listening to music, enjoying the perfect Sunday spring morning at Nehru Park. So many familiar faces, bonhomie and fun in the air.

The young boy arrived just as I was done. We were off. Talking about aircrafts and airlines, routes and travel, the kilometres and forty five minutes time on feet ticked by easily at a good pace.

Chorizo scrambled eggs and iced frappe at Fig rounded our morning perfectly before heading home.

Today, the day after Holi, the air continues to be slightly nippy. As I write sentences like these, I am always reminded of the Scots I met a triathlon camp years ago in 2016. For them, this would be positively balmy weather. They spoke to swimming in icy lochs in the winter. This would be a joke. But I kept my trusty north face on.

The young boy and I did five rounds in lane nine as warm up and I had an intention to carry on with time on feet. But on a whim, I decided to join him in his short spring training – 120s, 80s and 50s. He beat me squarely in all but he can be faster. Training is everything.

The young boy and I were running on Holi day, up and down the driveway. He said, Papa, isn’t this the best. The birds are chirping, the trees are rustling, what else could we want.

Nothing at all, I thought. What else could I want.

When I got to track today, I knew I had to do what I had to do. What my head and body wanted me to do.

Because I had nothing inputted in, I made my own interval sets. The track gang was doing four kilometers tempo on the faster side. I did a couple of 400s and then joined them for a kilometre. Then a 200. Then a reverse repeat.

I was panting. I was panting.

But I was coming back.

This felt like coming back.

Just as the light began to come up, the sky shifting its colours, the birds in the thicket of trees near the 300m mark started twittering. Perhaps complaining

I wonder what they thought of the sound of pounding sneakers before dawn. Whether it disturbed them or if they didn’t care. They must think something.

The young boy was doing 200m repeats with a 100m walk in between with the track gang.

Gaju and I ran a gentle six kilometres together. I’m able to run after these days of injury, inflammation and medication.

Spring is here. The dawn is lovely.

Not wearing the boot today. Feeling so much better than the past few days. Can’t believe the kind of pain that was there on Friday and how much this has improved. I’m reducing my painkillers. Tomorrow perhaps a very short trial to see what happens. Fingers and toes crossed.

Waiting to get better and on my feet. Meanwhile, a short kickboxing and specific push up training for the young boy.

Because of my injury, the usual Sunday Nehru Park excursion is missing. The young boy and I agreed that he would run in the driveway while I sat on the ledge.

Instead, when I woke up, I thought I could sit on the guard’s motorcycle and give the young boy motivation and company.

That is exactly what happened. We stepped out just before 8 AM to a lovely spring laden March morning. After a short warm up, off he went and me riding pillion.

It was possibly the most fun morning I have had in recent memory. He got faster and faster, with me yelling out splits for each driveway length. I yelled that Not Like Us was playing in the stadium stands while he was running, I yelled that his competition was catching up to him. He got faster, the bike got faster, and his sister clapped for each round looking mesmerised.

Personal best for six kilometres for him at the end – absolutely flying in the last few rounds.

A perfect morning.