I could feel the fatigue build up from long run Sunday. I slept nearly throughout the way home.

A welcome glass of wine at a friend’s house added a lift to the start of the week.

In a few hours, the New York Marathon will begin. I’ve never run it and not really been tempted although after reading this laugh out loud article, perhaps one year we shall beckon each other.

Meanwhile, on home ground, again at Nehru Park, I set off for my Sunday long run. A dusty orange sky began to push out the darkness twenty minutes into the run. Runners everywhere although lesser than before the Delhi half.

I ran alone, waved to several recognisable faces, and stuck entirely to the Niti Marg – Shanti Path loop.

Increasing the pace and putting on headphones during the latter half of the run, I kept it moderate and manageable while just nudging that boundary to round off a classic Nehru Park outing.

I had pegged this week in keeping to an easy running schedule. Writing to my coach earlier this week, I told her that it was Diwali week and interval training would have to wait.

She hadn’t adjusted the training peaks and when I saw the scheduled intervals for today. I was tempted to try. They were long and you could say ruthless.

Last night I had read this article in the NYTimes – to meet big goals, think small – and it made me think about work and unsurprisingly about running. Although, my training has always suggested to break up the goals much the way the article suggests, it’s always fresh perspective to renew, rewire the mind.

Breaking down these long intervals, I hit and outdid the pace targets in some of them. The post Diwali morning felt fresh. The roads largely empty. The people familiar. The intervals were just the start I needed in this block of training.

Give a bit of effort and Delhi, beloved roads of Delhi always give back.

I can see that it’s going to be a winter ahead with many treadmill runs.

Today is the day after Diwali or still Diwali apparently, according to Hindu calendar calculations.

I jumped on the treadmill after a long night of sleep and an hour of taking it easy in the morning. I’m not used to this. When I started running, I felt fresher than usual, as if my body was primed for activity.

Golden light poured through the window.

For no particular reason, Sunrise, Sunset comes to mind as I write this thinking about the quality of the light in the morning, my thoughts of the run mixing with the music I heard in the movie Beautiful Boy.

We woke up leisurely and made our way to Nehru Park. The roads were largely empty and we alternated music on the way.

From Don Giovanni to Rihanna to Def Leppard, it was a spate of music genres.

Because it was later in the morning already, and even as the traffic was low, we decided to run mostly in the park track instead of the usual Shanti Path loop.

A serene light filtered through the trees – the quality of light like a watercolour.

On the way back, the traffic had increased and I could see cars with families dressed up for Diwali. Perhaps they were going to relatives homes, exchanging gifts. I saw the twinkling of sequins and the glitter of makeup.

Perhaps shopping for flowers when I saw long lines of cars parked near the mandi.

The young boy and I, listening to Phil Collins, in our running clothes, were exactly where we belonged this Diwali.

It was right on the treadmill to begin intervals. I can manage an easy run on the treadmill, albeit at a less than usual road speed, so this was a rare time.

At the first one itself, I knew I had to half the distance – from one kilometre to 500m. There was no way I could hold on to what I would have considered the right pace, so I had to adjust that too.

Running by feel and halving the distance did the job. Surprisingly, I wasn’t bummed about it.

Jumped on the treadmill. The pollution will not help for the next couple of months and it seemed easier to run indoors.

I connected to the speaker, blasted Sapiens from where I had left off, occasionally listening and other times tuning off to myriad thoughts and the run itself.

Toggling with the speed dial and keeping it easy, I finished strong and rounded off the morning with a group of new and old core exercises.

The week to Diwali has started with review meetings but no run today.

The two tongas came hurtling down Shanti Path at full gallop.

At first I thought it was a large group of runners occupying the road. Then the objects seem to be moving too fast. Horses? Couldn’t be I thought. Tongas on Shanti Path. No way.

But here they were and as they raced past me, I thought the horse nearest to me looked me in the eye, gleefully and pitifully.

Even with a cart tethered to me, I can eat you for breakfast, it seemed to suggest, as the sound of their hooves faded away.

Meanwhile, all morning, a cyclist, a newbie, swaying side to side, continued to give me the creeps as he crossed me each loop, leering behind clear Oakley style glasses. Eventually, I ran longer than he cycled.

I could eat him for breakfast, I thought contemptuously. How women must feel, I thought, shaking my head.

When I reached towards the end of two hours, I wanted to round it off to a number, and I bumped into a very fast college runner at one end of Shanti Path. I don’t know his name, and I doubt he knows mine, but we’ve done a run here and there together; my tempo, his easy kind of thing.

We exchanged notes on last weeks Delhi half and while he had done a blistering 1:15, he said he wasn’t happy with the outcome. Cramps bhaiya, he said.

He could have the whole of Nehru Park for breakfast.

Satisfied, spent, I headed home to have a spinach omelette and oats for my breakfast.

It’s a few days until Diwali. For me it was another day that I missed at the track.

Tomorrow I must run. I’m feeling off-centre.