Run Fatboy Run..

Recently one of my friends posted a scrap on orkut summarising the tale of his life..

ask what does a commando do for a living "push ups"

and what is his routine? "run" stop and run"

ha ha ha ha ha (that is him laughing on himself)

I thought I should share a story too. Sure I am no commando. But yes I have this new found fad for running long distances. I do around 5 kms a day non stop (which might be a little stretched figure, but that is the good thing about bragging), 3-4 days a week. And it is not for getting into shape. It just brings some old memories back and restores my faith in myself.

Following is an account of how I spent my morning today.

Before I begin running(on my way to the start from my home) the only thoughts that occupy me are "how much will I be able to cover today, when will my legs give in". As I enter the museum garden, all other thoughts cease and I take a moment to appreciate all the colous that spring has brought with itself. The best green you can find is sprawled in fornt, dotted with, red, pink, white, purple, blue, magenta, colours from fairy tales. A moment lasts for ever. And then it begins. The sloping road helps to overcome any residual reluctance. I follow the winding track, flanked on both sides by bushes and trees and I am out of the garden and by the riverside.

The air felt cold when I left the house. I have a woolen cap on (fake nike), a sweat shirt (genuine Fila), Reebok lowers (authentic again), gloves (not branded :() and my crap shoes that hurt my feet. It seems I misread the weather. The sun is out now and it is going to get warmer. The muscles of my legs are still stiff from the last day's ?? and the pain in my bones hasn't left me yet. Around 150 m of running and I feel loose again. It is time to increase my strides. I pass a little girl, carrying her doll in a pram, being chased by her mother. The image stays with me for a while and I smile.

Now I am by the cricket field (we use it as one any way, even if it is not meant to be for that purpose). The air smells fresh and I take a few deep breaths. I would soon be needing a lot more of them. I pass a few people, some running, some taking thier dogs for a walk. Some smile, some say HI. It props up my spirits. It amazes me how people here don't find it awkward to acknowledge and greet complete strangers.

At the river landing people are preparing to go canoeing. Two canoes are already in the river, rowing. I remember the day I tried to race one canoe and failed miserably. These guys are good. It is warm. I take off my cap and gloves.

Breathing from the nose is no longer enough. I need more air. My heart is thumping in my chest. But breathing from my mouth has its downside. It dries up very quickly. Makes running harder. I try hard to keep my mind from thinking about it.

The river takes a left turn here. I go over the flood gates and into the open field. This acts as the encatchment at times when the river floods. It is an immensely vast strech of land covered only by grass. Into the horizon you can see a couple of factories. I family has come out to enjoy the nice morning air. A couple of cyclists pass by.

The thought of turning back crosses my mind but I decide against it. There is just another 500m to go to reach my target point. The heat is becoming unbearable. I take off my sweat shirt and tie it around my waist. I reach the back of my office and it is time to turn back. Half of the feat is done. The tougher part remains. I start back without a break. Any stop now would make running again only harder.

The pain in my legs is now on the rise. And a debate is already on in my head about giving up or carrying on. And believe me when you are running alone it can prove to be very loud. I wish I had a music player with me. 90% of my body is forcing me to stop. My legs are hurting very bad and pleading for rest, my lungs refuse take in any more oxygen, my heart feels as if it would burst out of my chest any moment. It is just my mind that urges me to go on. Giving up is too easy. The humiliation of submission would be too overwhelming to bear. I cross the floodgates.

After a while I have to make up stories to keep going. I imagine being chased by a dog at first. It keeps me going for a while. But soon being bitten by the dog feels better than continuing running. So I imagine being chased by a Godzilla. It works for a while but then logic takes over. Even if I were being chased by the Godzilla, I would seek refuge in a nearby bush or jump into the river (even though I dont know how to swim and godzilla is supposed to be a great swimmer, it crossed over from russia to US in the movies. But you cant believe everything they show in the movies), and not continue running to a predetermined check point.

This brings to my attention the fact that I am already by the riverside and about to arrive at the cricket field. The wind here is strong and pushes me back. I see a person give up running in front of me. I dont want to end it like him but I have got to stop at the end of the field. I cant carry on any longer.

At this point it is my tiredness that keeps me going and not my strength. Each step is an effort to prevent myself from falling.

As I arrive at the end of the field and turn the bend I can see the Lendal bridge. The garden is hardly 300m from here. I cant give up now. It will make all the distance I have covered an exercise in futility. I increase my strides. My hearbeat seems to fail me, my breath falling short of supplying requisite amount of oxygen, I wish I could get some water but my legs carry me.

All the while I keep getting close to the museum garden gate, my goal. 10 steps left now.. 5 more.. 3.. 2.. 1.. VICTORY!!! Oh so sweet the satisfaction. The curses from my legs do not make a difference now. As I enter the museum garden for the second time in the day, it seems to have undergone a major change. The colours have become more vibrant, the sights more beautiful.

It is hard to walk with the legs paining. I lie under a tree and stretch my legs. I have a weekend ahead to plan for. And then I have to be back again here tomorrow. The thought is not a pleasant one but I leave it for tomorrow.

For now I am in heaven.