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As soon as I woke up, I hit the driveway for an easier effort today. Friday is usually an optional run day but I prefer that I get it done.

Another round of short travel coming up so perhaps a few days ahead of missed runs.

I arrived a bit late and walked sheepishly toward the track gang – standing in a line – waiting for me for the road run.

We started right away and as before with Coach Ravi on the bicycle. Jeet and Ashwini as always took off. At first they were a few steps further, then fifty, then hundred metres and before long they were a speck in the far distance.

There were new folks today but I was buttressed between Khushbu on one side, the Coach on the other, and Dipasha right behind.

We slowly increased the pace until at the U-turn where we stabilised at a pace give or take a few seconds. Usually it is at this point that Suryansh and I significantly shift gears and run the second half faster. But today in his absence and still reeling from yesterday’s intervals, I kept it at an easier effort.

The last kilometre or two, it was worth pushing and that ended a good session out with the group.

The humidity was ninety percent and each repeat left me, the track group, winded and drenched in sweat. We gulped down water and poured it on our heads.

The boys removed their uppers as they call them, bodies and muscles glistening with effort.

We do our thing – Jeet, Ashwini, Monu, Suryansh and I. For the most part, we stick as a pack, except Jeet who is so much faster. Coach is calling out lap times and telling me to lift my legs. Another lap, he tells me to catch up to Ashwini.

At the end, I am spent. I pushed myself hard and the times showed it. An aggressive workout later rounded off the morning. Later, waves of fatigue wash over me. It was worth it.

It’s been a year since I started this project.

Often, which is to say most times when I run, words formulate, metaphors and thoughts morph about the run, during the run. There is a need, an urgency to record my observations whether tangible in the environs or within me as a state of being.

The kids at the track, the scene at Nehru Park, the idea of distinguishing between regular runs, long runs, hard runs not by way of distance or pace but by the action of the run itself and the response to the environment on that particular day. That in itself can mean several responses – as anyone who works out knows – that you can feel many things in one session and often all at the same time.

This need to record became a daily project and in that a routine that mirrored the routine of running.

The worst days because it’s a Monday and it’s manic. But that just sounds ungrateful and weird. Besides, Juicy lyrics and all – nothing so worst about anything.

Maybe, just maybe, I would have a right to say that if I was an athlete. But at any rate, I do not. I had a mixed bag of a day with some surprises and a pitfall or two. That’s just life for lucky folks.

Life rolls on. Tomorrow run.

When I parked this morning, I saw my friend Gokul’s car as I do many times. Just as I was beginning, he came bounding up and I started my run with him. Another loop in, he left off in a different direction and I ran solo.

Coming down the long Shanti Path straight, I could see my friend Kapil. We ran a solid forty five minutes or so, before I started another solo sojourn. Soon enough, I saw a fellow with whom I had run with in a group a few Sunday’s ago. He seemed to be going a faster pace but I asked him if we could team up.

We ran nearly an hour together. He was quick and hummed along to Hanuman and Shiva bhajans playing from his phone. Eventually, I dropped off – I couldn’t keep that pace anymore but my average pace was now exactly what I had hoped for.

Solo yet again, I completed two rounds of Nehru Park. The parking lots teeming with cars, families making their way for Sunday picnics, the sun glaring, the humid laden morning bustling with activity.

A lonesome peacock with a full tail perched high above on a tree devoid of leaves. Mostly bare, its branches and shape reminded me of anatomy drawings of the lung.

I see this between pull up sets. I used to be fairly decent at pull ups, now not so much. Which means I need to get back to it.

The temperature is much lower than two week ago but the humidity is at ninety percent. I checked this later but while running at the track, I did think that the overall conditions felt better than before.

It was hard going, staring at the back of Ashwini and Jeet as they jettisoned down the track at blistering pace. Suryansh, Monu, the young boy and I followed completing repetitions of 400s, 300s, 200s.

Effort is everything. I thought this at the track, thinking of the movie Road to Boston. How much to push, I wonder, thinking these thoughts down the hundred metre straight,

Because the flight was extraordinarily delayed, there wasn’t much of a chance to run today with a long day at work too.

Tomorrow, hopefully, back to track.

A long journey with stopover and flight delay today. This meant I missed the run and will likely miss tomorrow too. But I am thrilled to be travelling back.

No place like home.

I ran a similar route to yesterday except that I was solo this time. I was also more fresh and faster and quickly marked my territory. The two kilometre point at the corner of the vineyard cut neatly into the mountain, the three at a signpost that said ‘baggry‘ and nearly at the five kilometre mark, the narrow road widened to an enclave of homes.

A U-turn at a parking lot and I made my way back to our location, the trusty Garmin picking out the kilometres, as I admired the endless valley views, the parallel rows of grape vines, the bougainvillea, and felt the cool morning breeze on my skin finishing up satiated and energised.