Because yesterday I worked out after a while and aggressively did a set of deadlifts, I must have pulled and pushed my back and hamstrings. I woke up nearly as stiff as a board.

I started off earlier than usual for the long run today. Gaju said he would join me. By the time he came, I had run just over a kilometre in the darkness. But there were already a dozen cars at Nehru Park. The skaters were there too. With their coaches and parents following them in cars. In half hour, this place would be swamped with the usual Sunday rigmarole.

After a loop, I decided it was time to go towards India Gate and hopefully catch a less busier Sunday morning. Evading some obvious Saturday night cars, down Teen Murthi, then cutting to Safdarjung Road, and a left down Aurangzeb Road, it was finally all peaceful. Not a soul in sight. The dark sky was just giving way to a pre-dawn dark indigo.

The wide avenues led to roundabouts and more lengths of empty tarmac. Occasionally, a car zoomed by.

We came up to the India Gate hexagon, harked right, past Pandara Road crossing, and turned into Dr Zakir Hussain Marg. Down the straight and left towards Khan Market and Lodi Gardens. I expected to see a whole bunch of runners here but it was quiet down the Amrita Shergill Marg. One dog lounged lazily in the middle of the road.

Took a right at Lodi Road, joined back Safdarjung, taking the L shaped road to join back at Racecourse, passing the Prime Minister’s residence, and joining back at Nehru Park. All this in a near silent run.

We still had eleven more kilometres to go.

It’s surprising nearly always, how long a kilometre is. The loop I described was just fifteen kilometres and that too after making a round around Shanti Path as a precursor to heading out.

Then we ran a tangled shape in the embassy area, going this way and that, by now both of us desperate to finish the run.

On the way home, I had a litre of electrolytes which gave me enough charge to put in half hour of circuit workout – twenty exercises x twenty repetitions. Then I settled into a big, hopefully well deserved breakfast.

I attended a culture festival in Bombay a couple of days ago and one session (as of course it would be on today’s times) was on artificial intelligence and the performing arts.

After the interval session at the track, I thought, might there be a future where machine learning or artificial intelligence can do the intervals for me. Ludicrous? Perhaps literally.

Could a device tethered to the body, perhaps a next to next generation Oura ring or Whoop bracelet, make my heart beat faster and mimic the exhaustion of intervals even as I lie down and watch a season on AppleTV?

Imagine that. Sitting on a couch, breathing heavy, panting, and letting some device control your body. Sounds like bad sex.

But to imagine even further, a device that it is autonomously programmed to make your cardiovascular and other systems do work or rest or sleep as it monitors what should be the best outcome for your body and mind. That you set it on autopilot. That perhaps it can give you micro-doses too – an upper or a downer depending on the chemical (im)balances of your body.

But hey man. I just want to run with curly haired Gaju. I just did ten hard 500s with him. With every walk back to the 100m start point, feeling exhaustion and exhilaration with doses of impatience, wanting the session to finish.

No way I am letting any robot do the work on my behalf on a couch. Perhaps I am just old school like that – I don’t wear a Whoop or let Garmin or Apple Health tell me if I am in optimum mode or I need recovery or more sleep.

That’s just me dumbing me down. One way or the other.

Back from Bombay today to a rest day.

I had a flight later this morning to my favourite Indian city other than Delhi – Bombay.

I also had a 16 kilometre run. Gaju, another young boy whose name I don’t remember, and I started off with Coach Ravi at 5:03 AM.

The Bakhtawar Singh Marg leads to the Satyapaul Mittal Marg which ends neatly at the three kilometre mark at the T-junction. A left at Vikas Marg takes you down to a four way crossing at a perfect six kilometre milestone where the road becomes St Thomas Marg which at exactly eight kilometres joins at a T-junction at Golf Course Road with the imposing Camelia apartments looming in front of us.

A U-turn from there and it was back to home base well in time. Home, cup of tea and to the airport.

Because of a late night, I woke up late. But I couldn’t bear to miss today’s intervals so I went to track in the evening. I shared with Coach Ravi that I would come and not only did he appear but so did Gaju.

At 415 PM in the afternoon, it was searing hot and in parts of the track the stadium cast long welcoming shadows.

Gaju and I had the track nearly to ourselves. There was a group of kids doing some drills on the side but other than that, the red track shone empty in the afternoon sun.

The intervals were short but felt brutal. Surprisingly I managed them within the stipulated times.

Today we went straight out instead of turning left at bakhtawar chowk. At the end of the road is the three kilometre mark. At the T junction, we took a left. Another kilometre down another left to make our way back to the usual road. The name I don’t remember.

It’s the road of Taj, Reliance House, Unitech Business Park and the HUDA metro. Another right until three red lights down. Then a u-turn back to the stadium.

It was good to see Gaju. It had been at least a couple of weeks. He had a new haircut. He spoke about a good steeplechase run and a not so good 1500m event at a recent meet. He also said he broke his spikes.

Back home I thought I would workout but I put in a few lazy minutes doing some core work rounding up the morning with an ice pack and a cup of tea.

Today, day off and started the week a bit tired from yesterday’s long run. Constantly hungry as well.

I woke up late this Sunday morning. Because of that, the young boy came with me, instead of joining in later.

It had been raining much of the morning. A light misty feeling permeated the Nehru Park area.

When we started, it was nearly 730 in the morning. I couldn’t even find parking and found a spot in one of the side lanes.

Nearly throughout the time that he ran, he made up a story about civilisations and ancient writing, about dragons and 70000 BC, about paranormal events and magical swords. The time and distance ticked by. When we parted, I still had a ways to go and the humid weather clung to my skin.

Half hour later, Ravi, one of the fastest runners at Nehru Park joined me for his cool down. He had a few kilometres but I convinced him to do a couple of rounds instead. He complained about his shitty job and the terrible workplace environment. About his dreams as a runner and an opportunity to become a running coach. But he was an engineer – what was he supposed to do. Follow your dreams, I insisted many times in our run.

When we parted, we both knew each other slightly better. He remarked that the weather was beautiful.

I wasn’t sure about the weather but the way he said it made me feel immediately optimistic about the last leg of today’s long run.

By now, it was so late in the morning, I had the roads to myself that final twenty minutes.

It was a beautiful morning.

Because I changed my routine this week because of a social commitment, it was Saturday as an off day.