The full moon was hanging like a lamp in the sky. Low, just above the horizon, framing the outline of trees. I know I use the same simile often. In my head, that is what it looks like. Perhaps I could say paper lantern.

After a busy week, heading to Nehru Park with the young boy felt like much needed normalcy. It had been two weekends of racing too. Now, simply training. Phew. Just bliss.

After a bit, when I was on my own, I turned up the pace dial. Maybe slightly more than I should have. The morning felt perfect, the air was cool, runners aplenty and the kilometres went by with ease.

I wonder, if I can find in anthropological studies, that running back in the day, in the savannah was done for simply enjoyment. I am sure I can ‘look it up’ but that’s for another day.

Today was just all out at the track. It was one of the longest interval sessions I’ve done this past season. A pyramid mile interval session.

I didn’t feel an iota of impatience. It was simply blissful running.

The young boy ran with me in alternating rounds, in varying distances. The track gang ran most of it with me, although it was Ashwini who had put in consistent and hard effort.

I believe he would do extraordinarily well in the long distance formats. His running style is purposeful as he moves from side to side in an oscillating motion that is just so enjoyable to watch.

When I finished, I was exactly where a runner should be after a session like this. Beat but a bit of juice in the tank.

On the treadmill again today for an easy run. It was a packed yesterday and although I didn’t sleep very late, my dreams were technicolour, vivid and full of stories.

It was a short run and it went by quickly and was reasonably effortless.

The workout afterward was vigorous with varied circuit training interspersed with resistance band glute work.

Tomorrow, intervals, and that helicopter better have vacated my house.

Sometimes, because of a state helicopter that lands in the middle of the field, the track is closed.

This time I got advance warning, so I decided to run on the treadmill. It was pitch dark outside.

There is something meditative of the thump thump of shoes against the whir whir of the treadmill breaking the silence.

The week has been in some ways extraordinary at work. Diwali is coming up and there has been plenty on my mind.

After warming up for about a kilometre, I kept turning the speed upwards, moving eventually at a somewhat quick pace.

Strides at the end, on a treadmill, I find, can be ungainly and strange but I did get winded enough, so perhaps the job was done.

To the intervals today. With the track gang in full form. Half a dozen of us racing 500m repeats with easy running between each effort.

Finally. Sheer bliss. I felt strong, didn’t overly exert and kept it smooth and in control.

But, the privilege is all mine. To run with these boys and girls who’s grace I could never match, who train at that tender age at this time of brahmamuhurtha.

I have only the highest admiration for this young crowd. And it has the deepest effect on me to return, to run, to know they will be there.

Today is Dussehra. Because of the holiday, a late evening and an early work commitment, I ran later in the morning.

How can this finish faster, the young boy asked me. Well, in a time on feet run, you can run faster, but time will move just the same. Or is it? Intervals and speed drills seem to take care of time in themselves. But here we were, an easy run.

I worked out later – after a long time – and it felt wonderful even as I felt unbalanced and wobbly during the combination exercises.

One step at a time in this build up week.

The week is slated to build back. I can’t wait to build back. The journey, the training, the tempos, the intervals, the long runs, the time on feet. I can’t wait to imbibe the training again.

I know it will be an adjustment with training in near darkness throughout.

The winter is coming fast. The air has changed. The light has changed.

Let’s go, as I keep hearing from the young boy these days.

Not a PB. Missed it by ten odd seconds. Still not under 40 minutes officially. But who’s complaining? Getting the facts out of the way.

The truth is the run was simply fabulous. The kind of stuff that hard runs should be about. At least for amateur me. Hard. Running. Organised by the incomparable Coach Ravinder, who everyone affectionately simply calls Coach.

Niti Marg. Nehru Park. Couple of loops in my hood, at my temple, where I call running home. The track boys came first, second and third in the 5.6k event. The girl won the gold in the women’s category. An outstanding morning.

Knock on wood.

A short run again before the 10k race tomorrow. Eilish, my coach says to approach it as a really hard effort. Not to think of every race as a PB. True. Especially after last week, I am definitely not thinking it as such. 

The air is crisp with a winterly feel. When I run, I feel good. The legs are moving, the strides feel good. I am certain that I look comical racing down to the 100m mark. But at least not in my head. Perhaps that’s what counts – at times. To feel alright about yourself in your head. 

I will approach this day without the care of the pre-race routine. I want to be free of personal bests and such encumbrances. At least for today. And then who knows what may happen. 

It’s too many rest days. I know rest before races is important but I want to find the rhythm of hard training.

Or perhaps – and most likely – I am not enjoying the rest because of the disaster of the Delhi Half.

On the other hand, it was something else watching the young boy train. It’s joyful to see his legs kick up in that rhythmic style that I see with the track gang.

That movement and motion that seems to come out of its own volition.