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During travel, I do my best to adjust and manage the running schedule.

Friday plan said total rest day instead of the optional run that I always do.

This time I took it and looked forward to hitting the track on home ground on Saturday.

Because I had a flight today, I went to the airport straight from track. What was supposed to be an easy ten, turned out to be a tempo effort just for the sake of it.

Some of the track gang joined me, Ashwini and Suryansh for nearly the whole run.

At the end, the sky was changing colours, the morning peaceful, the track teeming and the run most satisfying.

A girl, her curly hair billowing in the wind, her arms around the man riding the motorcycle. Her t-shirt had a Jackson Pollock like splattered print. The sun was rising directly in front. Same road. Nearly the same time as yesterday. Gurgaon and New Delhi waking up.

At the track today, Suryansh, Ashwini, Jeetu and Monu joined me for the 800s.

The 800s have a mystic quality about them. Two rounds of the track. Half a mile. Not yet a kilometre. A tactical race.

It was heart in the mouth running today and for most of the repetitions the boys were far ahead of me. Still, it helped me be faster than I would have had I run alone. Towards the end, I pushed even harder, ending the session with decent results.

The track is full these days. Perhaps Spring is still in the air this early in the morning.

The young boy warmed up with me and then moved on to his training. It was my first run of the week, an easy hour, time on feet.

Midway, my friend Gokul joined me and conversations in lane nine centred around work and ambition. I’ve been thinking a lot about that lately.

When we are on the way home, the sun is a giant ball of fire in the dawn sky, seen momentarily on MG road through leaves and pedestrian bridges on the Gurgaon side, before disappearing again. The city barely affords a view of the rising mass but the sky is slashed with blazing orange. The sun is there even if behind flyovers and housing developments.

I look at it again when we cross over into Delhi although in a short few minutes it is further up in the sky. Just yesterday it was a total eclipse in North America.

We make our way home and I do a quick core workout to begin the week.

It’s Monday and the day off. Today, at dawn, the sun looked like a smidgen of blush behind clouds.

I made coffee and settled down with the English translation of Fire Bird, written in the Tamil – a lyrical and beautiful book by Perumal Murugan.

An old man pedalling a heavy cart, his goods covered in white burlap.

A foreigner in a blue t shirt who I’ve never met but I think I know who it could be.

A Sikh man, perhaps seventy or older, has the brightest smile of them all. We have been waving at each other for ten years or more.

Security guards outside embassies. Some gossiping, some looking bored.

A coach and one of his students. This Sunday, they both look older than I remember. But then again I’ve been seeing them since 2007.

The Shanti Path tulips still wave in the wind while hundreds of runners make their way up or down the road. Some I’ve been seeing for more than a decade and a half. Others recently. Things change. As they should.

On the medians, there are football matches. Families stroll about, enjoying the Sunday morning, this place of repose.

Inside Nehru Park, the regular walkers stride purposefully. Dogs look baleful. The roller skating crowd is out in force. The navy has a cross country race. It seems it is to promote health for their families.

I am finishing up with the young boy just as they start their race. He’s done a blistering run – most of it barefooted- and I pack him off.

I carry on with Ashwini, his first time at the Nehru Park environs. It is too crowded this part of Niti Marg and Shanti Path so we take a longer loop on the other side at Nyaya Marg. A couple of hundred metres changes everything. It’s quiet here. The leaves rustle peacefully. Some bikers gather around for their morning ride.

Our pace quickens and then some.

When it’s over, Nehru Park is still teeming. I leave, making my way to have a well deserved coffee at the very lovely Fig at Malcha.

The track gang ran way ahead of me today during the mile and 400m repeats.

I could feel this week creeping up on me. But after the first mile, I could feel the energy coming back.

The young boy did alternate rounds and did an amazing job of his training.

This is beginning to feel like a full week after a long time.

The air is still cool early morning this time in April.

The breeze rustled leaves and a loud, arrogant peacock announced his presence from a branch at least forty feet above ground. Its long tail is full and there are peahens everywhere. He’s vying for their attention.

Meanwhile, the young boy is jumping with excitement because Chelsea beat Manchester United at a thrilling game while we were asleep. Cole Palmer has captured his admiration and the young boy is already proclaiming him as the greatest.

I listen about the match – he’s read up on it already – and we promise to watch the highlights together

We run with ease, no pressure at all, just time on feet even as the last couple of kilometres go by faster.

Earlier it was lane ten. Now because of the Garmin track mode limitation, there is no lane ten, so I run in lane nine instead.

On interval days, I run the first lane and love it especially when I’m running with the track gang.

They push me, I push them and of course in general they are so much faster than I am in the short distance.

In lane nine, I’m bothering no one. I’m doing my thing. Time on feet. Sometimes a bit of tempo.

Lane one is performance. Lane nine is out of the way from anyone. Lane one you better make sure you’re running.

I wouldn’t know what to do in those in between lanes.

As the night changed to morning, silvery light shone through clouds; all sorts of clouds filled up space in the sky.

When I reached track, I wasn’t sure how the intervals sets would go. I had pushed myself yesterday on the easy run and I had long intervals today.

Today, without my sister and the young boy, the car felt empty and my mind was full of work thoughts.

I hoped some of the track crew would join me. And they did – Ashwini, Monu and a few others. It was timed intervals and the track folks set off at a pace I couldn’t keep up with, but I stayed at my target pace.

By the last interval, the track folks were spent, and I was feeling good, so I ran a blistering set to complete a very grateful and much needed workout.