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Today was travel from Spain to France. It was many hours of stopovers, flights and drives.

Nothing much to report for today other than that it didn’t feel like much of a rest.

Today I ran alone. I took the same route as yesterday. At the café which was the turn around point yesterday, I pushed on. But it was good to see the cafe – Chameli – I wondered if there was an Indian connection. The kind of café that spilled into the pavement – muffins, croissants and assortments in the glass cases. Regulars sipped their morning coffee and read newspapers. I pushed on ahead. It was quiet and still, save for few walkers, cyclists and runners and the occasional car flying past at European speed.

A few kilometres on, I picked up a snickers bar and a bottle of water at a gas station.

The pavement designed for cyclists and runners seemed to extend for miles. Ribbons of tree lined asphalt punctuated with glimpses of the Balearic sea and sunrise behind snatches of cotton wool clouds was my view until I reached the next town.

Within a couple of miles I had crossed this dreary town that seemed to have a rundown look about it.

Onwards, the port of Palma and the city stretched before me. Massive cruise ships dwarfed the hundreds of sailboats and yachts in the harbour.

One titled Mein Shiff, that I guessed translated to My Ship from the German, must be exclusively for German speaking guests.

I reached the port, ferries and ships glowered above me, and I decided to u-turn back. Towards the end, I ran a few extra kilometres before finishing with another u-turn back to the hotel, rounding off a satisfying and rolling long run this Sunday morning.

One way to see a new place is to run through it. It always surprises me how in a few kilometres, the landscape and terrain and towns change.

One can see the mish-mash of a place come together, beautiful buildings and equally absurd architecture. What would these architects have been thinking.

At roughly the five kilometre mark, my sister and I turned around. It was continuously rolling. Not easy would be one way to describe it.

Coming back, one again notices things that were missed earlier. Of course – this can always be the case – no matter how familiar the surroundings. Just the other Sunday, I saw an embassy on Shanti Path that I hadn’t noticed before. I have all but forgotten the name again.

It was a bit on the fun and frolic last evening. After sleeping in slightly, I met up again with my sister and off we went for a short run. It was good to make it happen, with the inclines coming in a bit easier today.

Later in the day, I went to the steam and sauna for ten minutes – probably the first time I have really been. Not quite my thing but it was good to sweat it out.

My sister Roshini and I woke up determined to finish the run outside. Familiar with the surrounding and the terrain buoyed the easy decision.

Undoubtedly, this is cycling paradise. Not so much in this particular corner for runners unless of course I have missed a route.

It’s still fun, it was a great out and back and it is a privilege.

Exhausted from the hike yesterday, perhaps the travel in general, my sister Roshini and I met up at the appointed time in the lobby. Shattered, off we went at a slow pace, a beautiful morning enveloping us, near silence in the air.

We ran until the head of the trail, that we did the day before, where nearly the first words we said remarked at how beautiful and still it was. U turn and on the way back, rejuvenated and awoken, we hit the gym, each to our workout routines to round off the morning before meeting the rest of the family.

Usually in a new place, I enjoy engaging with a running guide. For example, I would have found Venice impossible to run had it not been for the Go Running tours. It’s an idea that has to come to New Delhi soon. Here in Mallorca, I assumed we would find pavement and figure it out.

But, my sister and I found ourselves faced with highway traffic quickly and turned around to complete the run at the long hotel driveway that was a steep uphill one way. I rounded it off to an approximate hour on the treadmill.

Later in the day, a four hour circular hike led us through some paved roads that we made a mental note of for tomorrow’s run.

Writing at the Palma airport on a Monday rest day, waiting for family. I have an urge to run but I probably won’t get the chance today.

I remember reading articles by the jet setter Tyler Brûlé, where he always seemed to go for a five kilometre run to wash off jet lag.

I’ve followed in that practice several times but perhaps that will have to wait till tomorrow.

After trying to join Piyush and Ravi, I quickly realised that they were going much too fast for me.

But that made me step on the gas and get to a pace that I had hoped I would manage for the long run thirty kilometres.

While on one hand, the numbers matter to me – especially pace in the interval training – on the other hand – I believe that running should often have an element of freedom from all metrics and rely on checking in on yourself. RPE as it is called. One day, perhaps not even – simply running.

Fortunately, there is enough room to practice the latter as my training often is time on feet.

Today wasn’t that day though. I wanted to do a specific number at a specific pace. That’s just the idea I woke up with.

It wasn’t easy but it wasn’t too hard. Hard enough for today, I thought, as I changed out of my soaked T-shirt and shoes at the parking area, catching a few breaths before driving back home.

Bakhtavar Chowk ke bad shuru karenge, said one of the kids.

The track was booked for a private event today so we decided to run the intervals on the road.

Bakhtavar Chowk. It’s not possible for someone of my generation who grew up watching the Bollywood of eighties and nineties not to remember the villain Bakhtavar in the legendary movie Hum.

I didn’t quite expect these kids to know so I didn’t make a mention of it. Of course I could be wrong.

At any rate, we did a slow run till that chowk and did our usual exercises at the crossing itself before we set off.

The dogs were aplenty, the traffic is always something to look out for when you’re doing road intervals but it was fun, different and seemed a while since I had done an interval session on the road.

It was Suryansh and me together with the others scattered along the route.

It was a pyramid style workout that had us both spent at the end. Once again, I was reminded of the gratitude I feel to have the privilege of the company of this group.

At the end, cooling down the last mile, Khushbu and I ran alongside, quiet, in step with each other and wrapped it up to a round number at the parking lot of our stadium.