Rest as usual on Monday except that I woke up a bit groggy after an exceptionally unnecessary binge watching TV night lolling about.

After nearly two decades of running in Delhi, one would think I would be used to the humidity and heat that come as a partnership during Delhi’s summer.

Perhaps, this Sunday was one of the first of the season where it has felt this terribly hot during a long run.

I was baked and cooked. I took my first break after eleven kilometres and doused my head and neck with water. Then after another seven. And then at the end of the twenty one. Furnace running.

I tried to play all the mind games – especially how great this is for training. Did it work? I’m not sure considering how desperate I was to finish the run.

In these years of running, I have come across all sorts of everyday debris on the road including needles, syringes, catheter and IV bags, condoms, road kill, a full wallet come immediately to mind. I have, of course, been chased by dogs and monkeys. Which respectable Delhiite hasn’t?

But today towards the end of the run, a myna swooped in front of my face and I felt the vibration of air, my face fanned by the beat of its wings. That was a first and distracted me temporarily into thinking about the probability.

This morning at track, the heat and the humidity had me for breakfast.

I had 400s and young Gaju joined me for all. There were sixteen of these and it felt like forever.

There was no choice but to be conservative and to go by feel rather than timing alone. Before we began, during the warm up, we decided on a strategy that would keep us ticking along a couple of seconds within each interval.

Start fast. Let go. Ease into it. Finish strong. Rest. Pour water on the head. Repeat.

Finally job well done.

Back home it was on the bars and a strong circuit workout to round up Saturday morning.

Only work today. No run. No workout.

Because of a late night at work, I couldn’t run in the morning. But I had the good sense to carry my running clothes and managed a run inside Nehru Park.

This time in the evening, around 530 PM it was still but not surprisingly quite hot and I think I was the only person running on the track. The dogs looked lazily at me, their tongues lolling about. I stopped for water at least twice and by the time I was done, I was drenched.

It was 3,2,1 x 3 times day. Doesn’t sound like a lot. Wasn’t insane. But was a lot in itself.

Per bhar gaye, as Gaju said to me during the last set.

It was good to be back. The track was abuzz with the usual folks. Coach Ravi’s cast was off; instead a crepe bandage around his arm. He had grown a beard. Other than that, and that the summer humidity was here to stay for the foreseeable future, everything was just the same.

A lot had happened in the world in these past two weeks. I am sure a whole lot had happened in the lives of the folks at the track. But it seems just for this hour or so, this is a pattern of life that is predictable. It’s cocooned in its own ebb and flow of putting in the training, an expectancy to see many of the same folks. There are no nasty surprises here.

There were ten lanes yesterday. Same today. Oh you could have a bad day but that’s just you and your body. Most likely you will have a great day. Just out of consistency. Perhaps the kids who are training to get better feel a deeper sense of frustration if their timing doesn’t improve a whole lot. But still. There is peace here. The whistle blows. You run. You stop and rest. You run again. You trade a few words with coach and compatriots. You stretch and go home. Or rather this is home and you got out into the world.

Upon a return back from any trip, I find it quite amazing to think that just this past week I was in two countries.

I began my run on the TM today with old school 90’s music blasting in the gym room. It was steady going and I thought about my training last week with Gaby. Damn, that was good.

After the treadmill, I went through some of the training routines that I did with her. Weights and mat work. A good way to start the day.

By the time I crawled into bed it was nearly 3 AM. It was a full day back to work.

It was an early flight back to New Delhi and there wasn’t much of a chance to do the Sunday long run. I could have – had I started at 4 AM – but running that early in London is no fun. The last time I did that here, it was positively eerie. At least for me.

So it was three movies on the circuitous route back and plenty of dessert.

The Thames river run today involved twists, turns, up and down staircases, avoiding bike paths and construction sites. More than scenic, it was to get the distance done. Perhaps I should have thought of it like a video game but I didn’t. It was a tad tedious, with many roads blocked off for the trooping the colour.

Later, while at Hyde Park, with the young boy accepting a Muay Thai kicking challenge, I saw the Red Arrows finish the parade with a fiery trail of red, white and blue.