Because of a Diwali commitment, I did not run today. I could have – and yet again run after a few hours of sleep.

But it seemed that sleep wouldn’t hurt and perhaps a missed run wouldn’t hurt the training.

When I approached the track this morning, a diminutive bundled up figure wished me a good morning and asked me about the workout.

I realised it was Dipasha and told her about the 400s ahead. Two sets of ten each. They seemed like an endless number when it started and more than daunting as we counted them down.

Coach Ravi helped by blowing the whistle at forty seconds just as we crossed the 200m mark. And on it went with second to second precision, repetition after repetition till Monu decided to amp the game.

It is amazing what a couple of seconds would do to recovery. What it feels like – at least for me – to amp it just that much on the track.

Because of pollution in Delhi, I decided to do the time on feet on the treadmill.

I’m lucky enough to make that choice.

The treadmill, convenience and luck aside, which in itself is plenty of weightage, isn’t much fun – at least for me.

It very much remains a test in patience and I fiddled with the speed and incline dials every minute to make time go faster.

Perhaps, on the contrary, it is detrimental in that I am calling attention to time in this manner.

Eventually, I finished strong, began a circuit workout as the young boy began his treadmill run.

I could see his impatience mirroring my own, and reasoned with him, much the way I tried to apply just earlier for myself.

What the philosophies might be, at least we got the job done.

Children playing cricket in a dusty field. Brick kilns. Dhabas and Starbucks.

It has been road trip Monday to the hills of Uttarakhand. Near Ramnagar, I seemed to recall some of the roads from eight years ago.

My friend Amit and I cycled intermittently along the highway, then upwards to Nainital and onwards to Mukteshwar.

I can hardly recall a time when I was more spent.

Today memories of that time came back, a time I revisit often, a time that was crucial in its own way in my running journey.

My friend Gokul was already running. And Shikha too. They had just started. As sometimes happens, we, impromptu, ran together for nearly a couple of hours.

We were quiet for the most part.

Pointing this way and that as we made our way through various roads around the Nehru Park and embassy, high commission area.

To add up more miles a simple, four that way and four back, sufficed.

Or an indicative U-turn with a gesture of the hand.

I listened to them breathing. Heard our steps. Seeing us pass others and many that passed us.

The sky was overcast with the pollution that subsumes the Delhi sky at this time of the year. But Nehru Park was out in its force, not a parking spot available down Niti Marg.

When they left, I continued on. Today, entirely abandoning my usual simple loop and running adjacent and parallel roads – after a long time – felt refreshing and interesting.

And so it came to a close. Almost suddenly, as it wound down, to a close, at my beloved park that was slowly emptying itself from morning runners.

I woke up groggy and tired. Sleepy and unsure. I made a coffee, went through the morning routine and reached the track.

It filled up soon enough – the walkers, running groups, and the special track gang.

We warmed up for the mile intervals and although I felt better than I did when I woke up, I wasn’t sure how it would go.

It’s one of those things by now, running with reasonable regularity for many years, that I can tell how a run will pan out. I ask myself, especially during hard runs, if I can do it, if I can maintain the pace or better it, and I seem to talk to myself and nod or shake my head. I must certainly look like a fool.

And so I did. As the intervals flitted by, we became slightly faster till we were quite a bit faster and ended a strong last mile repetition.

At the second to last interval, Ashwini lay on the ground, saying he would miss this one. I shook my head and helped him up.

Kiya to kya kiya, I said, agar yeh nahin kiya. This is what will give you power, endurance, to be tired and power through it. I partly said it, partly thought it, and certainly say it to myself often. Perhaps an obvious metaphor for some of life.

Well, at the last, Ashwini and Monu became a dot down the track as they blasted a mile that surely seared tread marks on Lane One.

Now, that’s what I call running.

After a late night, (by my standards, eleven PM), I got up with a start. A quick coffee and soon after, I was doing burpees on the mat.

The previous evening wasn’t helping but I kept at it. The circuit training workout was fun and I got into the rhythm quickly, pushing the slight headache away.

After I was done, the young boy got on the treadmill and I watched him run effortlessly. Like me, he kept playing with the dials, an obvious move to keep boredom at bay.

A quick morning routine and done.

I swung my car towards the track for the longish time on feet run because I knew that at least there would be familiar faces, a familiar track – my home.

I didn’t feel like doing this run out on the road in Nehru Park on a weekday. Somewhat cold, possibly dreary, empty and of course in darkness.

Seeing the stadium lights and the silhouette of runners comforted me.

A few rounds into the run, many of the track gang joined me. When I asked how much they would do with me, they said most of it.

I was delighted. It is seldom that I have much company for the easy runs and the track gang are a very special kind of company.

Dipasha ran about ten kilometres with me. Suryansh and Ashwini ran nearly all of it. The older gentleman Mr PS Lamba ran a few kilometres but led the way, pacing us. Others weaved in and out.

We occupied the ninth and tenth lane curving round and round, counting it down.

Towards the end Suryansh said yeh ab pasand hai … 5,4,3,2,1 …

Work hi to hai, said Ashwini in response to Suryansh’s comment.

Suryansh had laughingly bemoaned that there were many more intervals ahead. When I think about the number during training – and I do – it seems daunting – as if they will never finish – or that I won’t be able to keep the pace.

But in a huge part, thanks to this track gang, this lovely little group that we are today, the work goes by with a sense of team spirit, of that very literal shoulder to shoulder. Especially with Monu and Ashwini and Suryansh and seeing them run, our shoulders and elbows often knocking against each other, rounding the curves, going down the straights, pressing the lap button at the end of each repetition.

Coach Ravi yelled out the splits, Ashwini at the last repetition, shifted into what surely was a nitrous oxide burst. He raced ahead, Monu followed on with the pace challenge, until both of them were already a speck, their legs flying and yet their bodies seemingly still and serene.

As I ran and pushed myself to the final home stretch, I couldn’t help but shake my head in admiration and with endless gratitude for these incredible times at the track. Work.

Britney says it best.

After coffee, I decided to run on the treadmill this morning.

It takes me time to warm up on a treadmill and nearly always the kilometres go by much slower than a usual easy run out on the road or track.

I played with the dials, keeping it easy throughout, a bit of incline here and there, listening to music that I wasn’t paying any attention towards.

Afterwards, I dove straight into a longish circuit workout that rounded off an uneventful but pleasant start to the week.