Today, Sunday was probably one my longest runs this past season. What is season though? I run and train year round.

But perhaps the time from July onward becomes about race possibilities. It’s a great challenge to do a PB or sometimes to just run a race without looking at the watch. But over time, the training, the track, the track folks, Nehru Park, regular running days, just the rhythm of running routine is what means everything to me.

As I exited the car, I saw Shikha race past. It was a 35k day and the company would be helpful to say the least. It took me nearly two kilometres to catch up to her. She was already on her seventeenth kilometre. Hers was a 40k run so that meant I could run the next couple of hours with her.

After a very short exchange, we ran quietly, alternating between Shanti Path and Vinay Marg around Nehru Park. We saw the pink blush of the sky come up and in the next loop the same horizon turned into a ghostly pale white.

For no reason it reminded me of the Galliano show for Maison Margiela. Or perhaps the sky within two rounds perfectly reflected the make up possibilities of a couture show.

On we went then towards the arc of Niti Marg to Nyaya Marg, past the usual dogs outside the American embassy and then around towards the parking for Shikha to complete her run with a quick high-five and bye.

I put on headphones, had a swig of electrolytes and started off again to complete my run. Picking up pace but keeping it comfortable, running the familiar loops, I finished the Republic Day very long effort.

Or so it felt after finishing these four mile repeats. Thank goodness, I did these on the road. Coach Ravi, Gaju and I stood around at track debating whether to them at track or road.

I’ve done all sorts of workouts on the track – including long efforts – but these were definitely better done on the road.

With Coach Ravi on his white scooter and by our side, Gaju and I set off for these long efforts. Ever grateful – a fantastic morning – blistering, rambunctious, mad running.

After the double run yesterday, took the day off.

Raat mein gaye aur raat mein hi aaye, said Coach Ravi as we approached the stadium after a fourteen kilometre loop. True, I thought looking at the dark sky around us.

Nearly the whole track gang had joined in for a road run but eventually splintered into smaller groups taking different routes. Jeet, Suryansh, Khushbu and I stayed together. Coach Ravi on the trusty bicycle by our side. It was a familiar route until Bakthtavar Chowk and then down towards Taj Gurgaon. After that, into unfamiliar territory, turning left towards the national highway and then banking left on the highway itself.

Taking an exit, a narrow road through residential area that seemed even darker, colder and quieter than the main road, we ran back towards our original route. Finally, joining the Taj road, we ran back to the stadium.

Khushbu chatted quite a bit, if only to herself. Suryansh, laughed occasionally, ribbing at her, and Jeet didn’t say a word. Coach Ravi was busy driving away dogs or checking in on the distance with me.

In the evening, it was on the treadmill to complete the double run effort. As much as a trusty treadmill is a great friend, this evening run was boring and I counted it down to complete it.

It was interval day at the track and I had fifteen repetitions of one kilometre.

At first the session was daunting – to say the least – but after a couple of repetitions, I seemed to get the hang of it and I got into a good rhythm. I kept checking in on myself, staying within a couple of seconds for each interval.

Gaju joined me for the full session and Jeet for most, although Jeet ran faster than I did.

The rest of the track gang were doing their training – possibly 400m or 800m – so they would burst from behind – legs, arms flying.

Towards the end, the sky just about started to turn pink at the horizon and I gunned down the last interval ‘like a train’ said my kind Coach after reviewing my timings online.

Quick up and down when you wake up late is only possible because of the driveway.

So while it can be playing games on my mind – this up and down – it is a friend.

Landed late night, early morning. Monday so day off. Exhaustion seeping in my bones, sleep sitting in my furrows.

The Doha Corniche reminded me of Marine Drive as I looked out my hotel window, sipping a Nespresso and watched the tinge of dawn seep above the horizon.

I made my way down and began the run right outside the hotel. One kilometre later and I was at the top of the Corniche start at the Sheraton. From here until the point I ran was five kilometres – intersecting ribbons of rubber track, bicycle lanes, and pavement by the crescent bay.

Wikipedia says that the corniche extends for seven kilometres, but my u-turn point at the beautiful Museum of Islamic Art (that I visited later) was the perfect five kilometre stretch for a back and forth long run Sunday.

I thought about the on-going Bombay marathon and that energised me only further.

Because the corniche is next to the main highway, the sounds of the whoosh of cars, and the wind is near constant. These sounds and a sudden silence of the early morning was only noticeable when I passed a red light with waiting cars and the wind dropped at the exact same time.

I don’t know quite what to make of new cities with their shiny impossible skylines but today Doha and the long run Sunday blended into wonderland.

I had to hit the track for a quick one because I had a flight to catch.

I called Coach Ravi en route. Within a few rounds into the run, he was there. As was Gaju who had done the intervals with me yesterday.

Coach Ravi joined for alternate rounds, Jeet came at some point, and Gaju ran throughout with me. Steady, slow, easy running. Grateful for their company and ready to catch the flight.

1 2 Ka 4, and so it went today in this pyramid mile work around the track. Relentless with short breaks between mile sets. I had a blast doing them although a four miler around the track – well – phew.

Jeet joined me for most of it, but it was another kid Gaju who gave me solid company throughout.

But the star of the show for these forty rounds was Coach Ravi with his stopwatch call outs, encouragement, admonishment and the seriousness that he brings to the game when work is to be done.

Coach Eilish, my light and guide, Coach Ravi, the on-ground, all-round companion.