It’s Monday and a rest day. I’m flying back to Delhi after the weekend.

It seems longer than that. As if a lot has happened. Time needs to slow down. I need training, sleep and the normalcy of routine.

I woke up after a very short sleep feeling reasonably energetic to take on the long run session.

Because there was a 10k race in London (that my sister Roshini was participating in) – I avoided the roads that were closed and went straight to Hyde Park.

I have been fortunate to run here many times but normally I run the outer loop. This time, because of the distance to be covered, I tried many paths and different combinations, although I kept the loops counter clockwise which is how I naturally seem to run. I combined the abutting Kensington Gardens and marvelled many times at the beautiful views towards the Serpentine, the Long Water, the Fountains, Henry Moore and simply ribbons of paths through greenery and landscape.

While, the feel of this is romantic, the run was hard. At times I thought I would call it before the thirty kilometres I intended to run. Eventually, and especially the last seven, came easier and became fluid.

After a heavy night, I woke up not feeling very good. I guess it is called a hangover. It had been a long time.

I could hear my sister outside pottering about certainly readying herself for a run. We both had decided for a short time on feet today. We met a friend and did two easy loops of St James Park.

Today, after landing in London, I changed quickly into running clothes. When I travel, I prefer if I can get the run done and finished. It bodes well for the day.

I had intervals – time repeats. St James Park and the surrounding area was packed with tourists. It was the time of the changing of the guard. It’s simply amazing to see the enduring attraction of these age old traditions that bring millions to these roads. The park was simply beautiful, the weather was gorgeous but I had my mind on the run.

Constitution Hill is where I chose to do the repeats. Up and down, again and again. During some, I seemed to have long stretches of road to myself. But often, I was weaving through cyclists, families, couples, and thousands of tourists. It seemed as if hardly any was a Londoner amongst these crowds. Perhaps a runner or two.

When I finished, I crossed over at the park, to see the view that always takes my breath away.

I ran with Mr PS Lamba today at the track. I see him nearly every time I go to track. Sometimes, he joins in for a part of the intervals. Sometimes like today he accompanies me (or I him) on a time on feet run.

At least seven to ten years older than me, short silver hair, built like a soldier, he runs with purpose but effortlessly. From what I can tell he’s a serious man.

We’ve barely spoken a few words to each other in all this time. When we finished, we fist bumped and nodded at each other. That is all we needed to do.

Driving back, a beautiful orb called The Sun was rising. Between trees, concrete pillars, metro lines, wires, it showed up; a large orange disc looking simply magical.

The track gang was waiting for me when I reached. I was late.

The intervals were 1k, 600m, 400m repeated five times with slow running as rest between them. It was brutal – at least for me.

I felt springy at the start and though it was tough, I knew I could make it through the pace targets. It’s a good feeling to begin a run with that confidence. The thing is to stay on pace and not overdo it at the beginning but also push enough. That balance.

The difference between me and the track gang is just that notch of experience. Perhaps because they are used to running shorter distances as sprints, they tend to go all out and end up taking several breaks.

Now that I know them a little better if anything else simply out of familiarity in running together, I have begun to speak to them a bit about pace, endurance and that feel of checking in on yourself.

But even as I imparted some information once or twice in the whole session, I would look at Ashwini and Monu as they ran ahead of me bouncing and bounding lightly, and shake my head in wonder at the beauty of their line, their stride, their arms. Even if they huffed and puffed at times, they looked elegant and strong.

Several times I noticed that their cadence was slightly lesser than mine but their stride length was definitely longer. If I tried to match them in cadence and in pace, I found myself loping forward in a more jumping motion. It was fun to experiment.

And finally, when it came to an end, I was spent. We all were.

When I run an easy time on feet at the track, I am not quite sure if anyone will join in. It always helps.

There was a runner or two who joined me a for a few rounds. But it was Rakshit who kept me company for over half hour.

A quiet serious kid, I hadn’t heard him say more than a sentence in all these months. When he ran interval sessions, he ran fast, intensely. Today, I could tell he was struggling – endurance at that age is probably not common.

But we encouraged each other. By simply running alongside. And his company mattered so much more than he would imagine.

The sky now changes colours so much later. Most of the run is in the dark, save for the one floodlight. But the track is full. The age group must vary from four to ninety.

There would be a hundred and fifty people walking, running, stretching, doing drills, training, running up and down the stadium stairs and at least a half dozen coaches yelling out timings or simply yelling at the kids to move faster.

Kheench, kheench, I keep hearing. Sprint karna hai, dum laga.

The weather is humid, the track is dark, the runners are aplenty and all is wonderful with the world at Tau Devilal Stadium.

I slept and slept. After the Sunday thirty and lack of sleep the previous week, I needed the rest.

It was odd to wake up late. By the time I was ready to leave, it seemed like much of my usual morning had been swallowed up.

No complaints though. I needed this and hopefully the rest day comes through in an energetic week ahead.

Today, on long run day, before the start itself, I felt the burden of time. 

I had slept three hours and started at least half hour later than my usual time. These things tend to throw me off. 

But once I reached Nehru Park, the atmosphere was as festive as ever – if not more – with the Delhi Half Marathon exactly a month away. Everyone seemed to be in training mode. The air had a salty margarita like quality about it. 

After running six kilometres with my friend Gokul and then another two or three with Shikha who had just placed runner up at the Ladakh Ultra, I was on my own. Now it was simply loop after loop of Niti Marg-Shanti Path. At some point, I listened to music during the run. It certainly helped – especially today. 

I felt the pace quicken, the stride lengthen, the cadence increase. Of course, all this could be in my head but the watch seemed to suggest that a faster effort was underway. 

Just approaching the time on feet limit, I decided to round it off to thirty kilometres ending what turned to be an exceptionally satisfying morning.  

Later, the young boy asked me what it felt like after a long run. I countered the same question to him and asked his opinion.

A little sad because it’s over, he replied.

When the young boy and I reached the track, it felt just right. Here, again, together.

The track gang was going to join me today for the 400s. The young boy would do alternate repetitions. We began after a quick and effective warm up.

I started off too fast and aggressively and I felt it in the later repetitions. Towards the end, I had entirely lost my rhythm and must have looked like a flailing middle aged piece of lard making his way around the track.

What was I doing around these beautiful runners who no matter their speed seemed to be imbuing the word grace.

I had put on too much weight. I was sure of it. I could feel it from my cheeks to my stomach which was beginning to have a worrying folded wrinkle across it. Enough, I thought as I began my core workout. What was I thinking, eating, no shovelling, three scoops of ice cream last night. Or was it possibly four?

It was time to train. Or ‘Make a new plan, Stan,’ from the song, 50 ways to Leave Your Lover that my friend Aditi sent me.

This wrinkle must go, I thought, leaving the track, the young boy besides me, who thrashed me in quite a few of the repetitions.