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Once again, this Saturday was a rest day for me. Having done the interval session on Friday, I didn’t feel too bad about it but it would be good to have a straight up normal week.

After a brief debate with Suryansh, Nikhil and Coach Ravi whether to do the mile intervals at the track or on the road, we decided to head out. It’s a nearly a mile from the track entrance to Bakhtavar Chowk. We warmed up till that crossing to begin our first interval back towards the stadium.

Straight road intervals feel decidedly different from the track. In some ways it seems easier but at other times endless. All in the same mile. I can’t make out if I prefer one over the other. Probably not.

At any rate, what is certainly true is that company whether at track or road counts for a great morning. A thank you to Nikhil and Suryansh, and of course dear Coach Ravi on the bike.

Lapwings with their awkward gait dotted the track. Large swathes of water logged the infield, the mood and sky gloomy and overcast. It had rained torrentially the previous night and the parking lot at the stadium was submerged in knee high water.

I had a straightforward time on feet that I began in lane nine. This first day of August there is a noticeable change in sunrise and weather. The first fifteen minutes were run in darkness before the hint of dawn crept up behind Medicity.

It was lap after lap done quietly, in solitude. At some point Suryansh joined me, then Ashwini. After a few rounds, they slipped off to do weight training and I carried on.

Not looking at the watch, instead relying on the eastern sky, my sense was correct when I finally did look at the watch predicting there would be one lap to go.

My sense or an innate sense? I’m not sure but when Def Leppard came up on the way back home, all senses lit up.

Short intervals with many repetitions are brutal in their own way. The total distance doesn’t amount to much but the effort put in each repetition takes you right out of any comfort zone.

If you’re not panting, you’re not working.

And so it went today with Suryansh and Nikhil with Coach Ravi at the whistle. Round after round, two repetitions each round. It was head down and hard going. I tried to concentrate on my form which I was sure was flailing compared to the elegance Suryansh exhibited.

As always, the fact that I have the chance to train alongside these young kids is a true privilege and has been a turning point in my amateur running life.

The kids have their day off on Tuesday. Coach Ravi was there with the solitary Nikhil. He decided to join me. Aaj continuous, he said. I nodded back.

After a couple of rounds at the track, we headed out to our usual L-shape out and back. At the U-turn, Nikhil was fading and took over the scooter from Coach Ravi who then ran alongside for a couple of kilometres.

Nikhil switched again to run the last section with me. All this was a bit distracting but I told myself to hold and be patient. After all, I had the company and a scooter that was evidently going faster at the last mile.

The It in this case is sleep and rest. Starting off the blocks tomorrow to hopefully a good week ahead. Keeping fingers and toes crossed.

Meanwhile, it has been good to read a plethora of articles on Caeleb Dressel, his endless medals, internal battles with perfection and his stature at the Paris Olympics. Hats off to say the very least.

I ran. Long run Sunday. Didn’t do the distance I wanted to but managed a reasonable twenty two.

The young boy joined me for the initial eight. When he left I picked up the pace but I struggled. The after effects of Friday night still lingered. The humidity and heat were tremendous and I imagined the toxins leaving the system.

Enough man, I tell myself. Too many weeks of mediocrity. Except this past Friday. Got to get the groove back.

That’s hangover. Need to get into my game. Just as I nailed it yesterday, I lost the plot. Need to get in the game.

Finally. Finally. Finally.

I hit the track today after what seems like eternity. I had hard intervals and after these last couple of weeks, I was sure I would have lost significant fitness.

I made up my mind that I would run according to RPE – keeping it somewhere around the 6/7 mark and settle for whatever time it showed for these maniacal kilometre repetitions.

When I woke up, it was raining down relentlessly, the skies a discotheque of flashing lightning and booming thunder.

I made my way to the track, the pelting rain reducing to a drizzle and reached a near bone dry track.

Coach Ravi ran the warm up rounds with me, chatting about shaking up my routine. He suggested it cautiously. Eilish wouldn’t mind, I smiled to myself.

Monu and a new kid, Nikhil, ran the interval efforts with me. Kilometre intervals at the track always seem longer than on the road.

A piece of paper near the hundred metre mark on the front straight looked like a folded five hundred rupee note. Every loop I watched out for it. It reminded me of back in the day at Friends Club when I swam as I kid. My memory tells me that all manner of small objects or goggles and what not were at the bottom of the pool. I would fixate on one object that I would peer at each time I did a length. That folded paper was a beacon to me today.

I wish I could say kilometre after kilometre flashed by. It didn’t. It was hard work and at the end I was grateful and somewhat famished.

At home, the young boy was missing school, so he ran instead and I took my workout outside – medicine ball in hand – enjoying him go through the paces. Maybe he had his own folder paper to look out for.

After a restless night, an early flight from Madras and a long day, running today was never going to be easy.

I look forward to recuperating over a hot meal and decent sleep tonight – hopefully hitting the road or the track tomorrow morning.