I seem to have picked up something from the travels. Flu-ey if that’s a word is a way to describe it. Another missed run and likely the same for tomorrow too.

As expected, overnight travel back and a landing at dawn meant that I couldn’t run today.

Home, a quiet hour, turnaround and to work.

Monday is normally rest day but with the missed run coming up on Tuesday, because of travel back, I made it up with a quick hour early this morning.

The young boy was fast asleep, exhausted from the excitement of the previous night. I snuck out to a near empty Berlin. Near the Gate, city cleaners and authorities were beginning to dismantle the Euro Cup festivities.

The tangible remains of celebration or despair, depending on the side you supported, littered the streets – bottle caps, smashed glass and barricades askance. A clear, blue sky above marked the start of the week.

I thought I would be much slower than the pace I managed to adapt today. Perhaps leftover adrenaline and gratitude at witnessing human beings coming together to celebrate sport, witness awesome athleticism and fierce patriotism – had me propelling forward.

I look forward to routine as the week comes up ahead on home ground.

This morning, jet lagged and awake, the young boy and I stepped out to a rainy Berlin. It was quiet and empty.

Save for the barricades near Brandenburg Gate, it would be impossible to tell that today was the final of the Euro Cup.

With several detours and unsure of where we were going, we managed to find our way down the Tiergarten. We posed for a quick selfie at the Gate – that has marathon connotations for me – having run the marathon here a few years ago – as also that anyone in long distance knows that Berlin is probably the Mecca of world records broken.

I dropped him back at the famous Ku’damm avenue and turned around for another loop to close off the Sunday long run.

The evening events at the Euro Cup were as exciting as could be but what caught my eye and attention was the players warming up before the match. The drills, stretches, near acrobatic moves, power surges of athleticism, activity and action – this is the way to warm up. I showed this to the young boy who nodded but I could tell was only waiting for the match to begin.

I debated whether to wake up at two forty five, hit the track for intervals and then the airport. I’ve done that several times but this time I took a pass.

The young boy was travelling with me and it was one of those things. While missing runs is never a decision I like to take, this time I told myself to chill out.

At any rate, it is travel for a few days and it seems there might be more missed runs until mid next week.

As soon as I woke up, I hit the driveway for an easier effort today. Friday is usually an optional run day but I prefer that I get it done.

Another round of short travel coming up so perhaps a few days ahead of missed runs.

I arrived a bit late and walked sheepishly toward the track gang – standing in a line – waiting for me for the road run.

We started right away and as before with Coach Ravi on the bicycle. Jeet and Ashwini as always took off. At first they were a few steps further, then fifty, then hundred metres and before long they were a speck in the far distance.

There were new folks today but I was buttressed between Khushbu on one side, the Coach on the other, and Dipasha right behind.

We slowly increased the pace until at the U-turn where we stabilised at a pace give or take a few seconds. Usually it is at this point that Suryansh and I significantly shift gears and run the second half faster. But today in his absence and still reeling from yesterday’s intervals, I kept it at an easier effort.

The last kilometre or two, it was worth pushing and that ended a good session out with the group.

The humidity was ninety percent and each repeat left me, the track group, winded and drenched in sweat. We gulped down water and poured it on our heads.

The boys removed their uppers as they call them, bodies and muscles glistening with effort.

We do our thing – Jeet, Ashwini, Monu, Suryansh and I. For the most part, we stick as a pack, except Jeet who is so much faster. Coach is calling out lap times and telling me to lift my legs. Another lap, he tells me to catch up to Ashwini.

At the end, I am spent. I pushed myself hard and the times showed it. An aggressive workout later rounded off the morning. Later, waves of fatigue wash over me. It was worth it.

It’s been a year since I started this project.

Often, which is to say most times when I run, words formulate, metaphors and thoughts morph about the run, during the run. There is a need, an urgency to record my observations whether tangible in the environs or within me as a state of being.

The kids at the track, the scene at Nehru Park, the idea of distinguishing between regular runs, long runs, hard runs not by way of distance or pace but by the action of the run itself and the response to the environment on that particular day. That in itself can mean several responses – as anyone who works out knows – that you can feel many things in one session and often all at the same time.

This need to record became a daily project and in that a routine that mirrored the routine of running.

The worst days because it’s a Monday and it’s manic. But that just sounds ungrateful and weird. Besides, Juicy lyrics and all – nothing so worst about anything.

Maybe, just maybe, I would have a right to say that if I was an athlete. But at any rate, I do not. I had a mixed bag of a day with some surprises and a pitfall or two. That’s just life for lucky folks.

Life rolls on. Tomorrow run.