Almost a repeat of yesterday. I did a short one today on the treadmill while the young boy put in an abs and core workout.

The last ten minutes I did short bursts of speed – whatever that means on the treadmill (for me) and called it a morning.

This morning while the young boy did a solid legs workout, I ran steadily on the treadmill letting time and pace take care of themselves.

I got back earlier this morning and was too sleepy to put in a run in the morning. It was work and back.

I must certainly be very lucky in that I have run by the sea in two cities, in two countries, in two wide landmark promenades.

A few days ago I ran on Marine Drive in Bombay and today I ran on the Corniche in Abu Dhabi.

Not a true corniche, but who is to say what is what in the evolving world of words, the coastal road in Abu Dhabi runs for eight kilometres. Paved like Marine Drive, although the Corniche is much longer, it was the perfect dawn run. For me, Marine Drive is far prettier, but then again Bombay, especially town, remains one of my favourite places.

I did half hour in one direction crossing runners and walkers. The atmosphere here was muted, more quiet than the livelier Marine Drive. The people at Marine Drive, almost largely Indian, and most certainly local was different from at the Corniche where the crowd although local was full of expats.

The weather in both cities has been perfect and accorded the most pleasant and satisfying experience.

I took an early morning flight to Abu Dhabi and had a full day of museum visits. It is a Monday, but I thought I might sneak in a run. Eventually the day was a rest stop even though I went well above twenty thousand steps.

The air is somewhat better although the temperature in the early morning is around five degrees. I went much later and even then with the sun shining, it was about seven or eight.

I did a longer loop and then a bit of back and forth to meet the young boy at the usual parking spot.

He and I ran first inside the park on the soft track and then a loop to finish up under the midday sun.

On the way back, Prince, Pantera, Djo, Coldplay, and Timbaland gave us good company.

This morning the young boy had a run and so did I. To keep it fun, we decided to alternate on the treadmill. While one was on the treadmill, the other would do a strength workout. This way time passed wonderfully.

The last twenty minutes, I rounded up by hearing Suprabhatam. A peaceful start to the day ahead.

I woke up this morning in Bombay with an urgent need to run. It was of course propelled further that I was in Bombay in relatively much cleaner air and good weather.

I headed to the Queen’s Necklace that was already teeming with people. A running group seemed to be doing intervals. Many runners wore t shirts from previous marathons. I would imagine that most runners here were preparing for next Sunday’s Bombay marathon. But there were also plenty of walkers, yoga groups, smattering of early morning couples and families.

From one end of Nariman Point to the other, exactly where the sidewalk gave way to a busy intersection, in that perfect arc of Marine Drive, it was exactly 3.4 kilometres. I did two back and forth’s and with less than a mile to go, I rounded it up to a very satisfying fifteen kilometre run.

Because I was travelling today, I had to wake up early and put in a treadmill run. Emboldened by my “first“ run yesterday, I was feeling lucky. I also wanted to keep it going.

Suprabhatam it was once again. But this time the complete song. I played it twice over and then some before finishing up for the morning, ready to go to the airport.

It is a direct result of reading Diana L. Eck that I find myself approaching this week long break and the fact that I will drop out of the Bombay marathon with peace and equanimity. What does it mean to drop out?

I ran this morning on the treadmill with a version of Suprabhatam that was just under ninety seconds. The actual devotional song is over twenty minutes. But here it was, these ninety seconds playing as a loop and it was quite a while later that I realised this.

I tried to focus on my breath, tried to focus on a spot in the garden, at the base of a tree. The circular mud shape, the kiyari, a loop of its own.

I cannot say whether this hour passed quicker or slower or whether that itself should matter in anyway.

Later, when I was training the young boy, it seemed fitting to ask (when he was impatient) that what if an hour was not called an hour as constructed by language? Defined in another manner would it matter to the impatient mind?