How long till the next?

Now what?

This was the first thought that occurred to me last Sunday morning, the 100th day of running for the 2019 edition of the 100daysofrunning challenge. I had gone past my target of 512 kms on the 99th day. So, I ran the 100th day at peace. I could not comprehend my own thoughts on that day. Is it a good thing to complete a target comfortably and feel empty on the finish line, or is it a good thing to keep the target in sight till the end and feel the finishing touch right at the last moment? Actually, I could've done 550 if I wanted to. I had the days and I had fuel left in me. But 512 sounded fine enough. On retrospect, I could not help wondering that I have felt the same way almost always, all along my life. I'm a procrastinator.. big time! But I somehow manage to finish things on time, in the end. Things have worked just fine, as long as it is on time. What starts to occupy my mind thereafter is 'now what'.

I don't remember the exact moment when, many years ago, in a flash, I felt living up to 50 would be a decent enough life. It's a brief memory, but one that is very deeply ingrained. I vaguely remember my thoughts on half-life that I penned down at 25. I used to write a lot then. A lot of poetry (thank God I've taken out most of them from here), a lot of self-discovered philosophical scribblings. I read quite a bit too - some Russell, some Nietzsche, some Somerset Maugham, some fiction. All of this in the middle of my MBA, with a lot of time still left for family, my first nephew, friends and college life. Nine years later, I'm a changed man, only with the longings of what all I could have done in 9 long years since. There's been a constant hunger for leading a different life. But it's not an insatiable one. Every 30 days, the hunger is fed with salary, and there's a good week's sleep. Then the hunger returns the next week to remain for the further three, and then it's satiated again. This for the last 9 years. Man, what a life!

Now I'm caught in a conundrum between the young and the old. 34 is what? Young or old? At my workplace, I see both ends of the spectrum. In the industry I'm in, 25 is a good start for a management graduate from a prestigious B-school, with no student loans, to call her/himself a consultant (now whatever the hell that means.. many in my encounter have been just dumb! We haven't needed a lot of consulting from our own consultants!). And I see the potential they could reach in 10 years, only if they were sincere and ambitious enough (which is what their prestigious B-school is supposed to teach them!). On the other end, I see 45-somethings, the few friendly and open types, lament about what they could do if they were 34 and had 10 more years to be where they are now, without their many EMIs, of course!

You see, my problem is not wanting to be 25 now again or let the years pass by to when I'm 45, satiated by salary till then, and then start longing for 35! The point is to find a way out of the mess now. I could get out, any moment. Someday soon I would. My problem is passion. I don't have just one, but many, and so I don't have one! A man passionate about many things is not passionate about one thing! Or can he be? Too many passions arise from too much freedom. For the most part, I have been responsible with most of my freedom, and that's taken me on a proper and safe journey with many fellow travellers. But it's not adventurous! It's the little extra freedom that provides for eccentricities that are adventurous and are hard to resist. That's what goes on in my head all the time - which of these eccentric passions to choose and which adventure to take. And if I end up with one, how long it will be before the next one raises its head? Shouldn't life be either one great adventure or many little ones, instead of just proper and safe?

A runner's guilt

There could have been a better title for this post. Still I'm intentionally keeping it this way, for the directional intent of where this is coming from. But it is not all negative. Go on.

As I write, I have never been in a more welcoming environment than where I am now. It's a still, cool evening. The sky is an awesome pale blue, with white patches of paper clouds here and there. A jet is tearing through the sky, leaving a trail of white fog that is cutting the sky into two. Way below that, and just above my head, all kinds of birds are heading home, the sound of pleasure in their chirps. So I'd like to think. My favorites are the cuckoo couple - the red-bead-eyed black male and the white-grey spotted female, and the innumerable companies of parrots that glide past my terrace everyday right about this time. It's a kind of serene calm now even amidst the constant chirps. So that's the setting now in which I'm retrospecting. 

I seem to be in a perennial writer's block when I try to think of a new idea or frame a new social concept or philosophy to write about. Those days just seem to be gone for a while now. I'm trying to operate on that mode of thought and feeling. If I could, I would instill a pace-maker to that part of the heart that works on these areas to beat normally! That is, if there ever is such a part in the heart like the different parts of the brain (as if I'm using those effectively!!). 

And so, the simplest thing to get me writing is to do with running. I love running, so I have no block or problem writing about it. Tomorrow would mark the first time in 24 months that I would have run 150 kms in a month. This is the second full month in the '100 Days of Running' challenge for 2019. (I ran 125 kms in May). The last time I clocked 150+ was June 2017 during that year's 100DoR. My mind went back to the circumstances of that year's challenge. It was a run-rage that I took on, in some serious testing times of my personal life. And today I reflect on how much things have changed since. Back then, the running used to cure me of negativism. Now, it keeps me composed and contained from too much positivism. In both cases, it has just helped me stay on track. And this is the guilt that has captured me now. Why is my running becoming a refuge or a neutralizer to just keep me normal? Why is my running keeping me normal and not elevating me as a person? How could I love something that is just normal? Or is it because my running cures and contains me that is making me love it more? Or to simply state - Why am I not running for the love of it, if I truly did love it?

I'm only reminded of Haruki Murakami's golden words that still keep me going about running - "I'm not a great runner, but I'm definitely a strong runner". No one could state it simpler and more powerfully than this, to keep someone like me running. By God's grace, I have never been left wanting for strength, at least when it comes to running since I picked it up as the sport for me four years ago. That strength will be enough to overcome the guilt and embrace love, my love for running. And that strength is enough to keep this lone wolf going! 

How I ran the Bangalore Ultramarathon 2017

I'm writing this exactly a month after I ran the Bangalore Ultramarathon 2017.

Grossly under-prepared is certainly an understatement! The thrill of over-running - my foot! Remember I had a plan on how to complete the 50kms? It was a flawed plan, and I had prepared it way worse than I thought. So I won't tell you what it was! But I somehow managed to finish the 50kms, in 7:30 hrs. For someone who can now do a Half-marathon on tar roads in humid weather in about 2:15 hours on average, taking 3 hours for the first 25kms was disturbing, to say the least, especially in a bamboo forest trail on a pleasant early morning. And you can imagine the next 25! Maybe I bordered on a mix of over-confidence and lethargy. I had expected to be slow, but not this much. The finish was definitely Mother Nature's grace!

So, here is the series of silly events leading to an oh-so-stellar finish! (Sometimes I enjoy ridiculing myself just too much!)

1. Traveling from Chennai to Bangalore on a 2nd class sitting coach in a day train, just on the evening before the run, and so reaching my guest house way later than I should have. Brilliant first step!
2. Lack of sleep - This was the most pronounced part of my over-confidence. 4 hours sleep before a 50Kms run. What was I thinking??
3. Not carrying a sweater - it's 4 AM on a November morning and I had to travel 40kms by van to get to the forest, and wait in the 'Start' area for about an hour. Come on, man!

And that's how eventful the start of the run was! But once it started, it was an altogether different game. On second thoughts, 3 hrs for the first 25 kms was not bad. I had not expected to set a target finish time for this run; just a decent finish. And beyond the 25 kms, it's a new world for me, for I had not run longer distances before that. So I decided to take the first 25 really slow, to keep my legs fit enough for the next 25. That way, maybe 3 hrs was not that bad.

The second half: The most surprising part to me in the second half was that how many runners ahead of me kept running without a break for some food. I stopped right at the food counter at the end of the first 25kms, gorged down 2 idlis and 1 vada, even before changing my socks. Took about 30 mins in all to recoup. But these people ahead of me were surprising, to be able to go on for 50kms with a glass of water or Enerzal, a slice or two of orange or banana! Oops! Must have been real runners! I'm in wrong company!

Lack of sleep was starting to show up, as soon as I hit the 35th km. A stinging headache gripped me, and I thought that was it. The worst thing that can happen to a runner halfway through a marathon is the slightest thought of giving up. The thought is a vice that instantly grips the mind and the heart. 'So, what's the point' is how it proliferates. Beyond a point, it's not the legs that run. It's the mind and the heart together. You tend to forget that legs exist. You don't know what to do to finish. The way I had figured it out when it came to a struggle - 'forget running. If I can't run a step more, I better walk. If I can't walk, I better crawl to the finish'. But now I was at the 40th km and I was done for! I had come to a point when I felt I can't even crawl. I wanted to give up. I so wanted to!

And then came the music! No vice can stand the power of music that melts a heart, that inspires, that re-energizes a draining soul, that does what not! It's not the body that then takes you forward. It's a Higher Calling. You don't need legs to run. You don't even need the mind and heart to do it together, for you don't know where they are either. It's a spirit that flies now, unbound from the tangles of every worldly thing there is, unbound from the flesh that couldn't contain it any longer. It's inexplicable, the power of music to drive a soul to reach for anything, big or small! I just kept going and somehow got to the finish line. 4 hrs from the 26th to the 50th km. It was finally over.

Post the finish, a woman came up to me and said with a thumbs-up: 'good one'. She must have been in her mid-thirties. 'I was running a little bit behind you for a long time, but saw you fly away suddenly from the 45th km!'. It was then that I realized the music had done its job!

Thoughts on motivation to keep running - continued

The last week has been pretty decent for training, a mix of both progress and pain. I did a training run of 14 kms in 01:35 hrs. Seems pretty ok, and on track for a sub 2hr target in TWCM, provided I don’t stop training the next 4 weeks. I hope not to. There’s just 5 weeks to the event. But a part of this somewhat tough training (by my standards: at least one 15km, one 10km, and one 5 km runs in a week, aside from the regular walking/cycling stuff) is taking its toll in pieces in my right knee. And worse, the last two days it’s been flowing down to the shinbone (the long front bone section between the knee and the ankle). I don’t think it’s an issue with my technique, for my left leg is as good as ever. So I guess it must be from the right knee-down.

Once I severely injured myself, twisting my right knee and tearing a ligament around it, during the Oxfam Trailwalker 2015 in Avallon, France, in June 2015. I need to write about this. It’s a post long due! Long story short: it’s a 100Km trek in the valleys and dense forests in under 30 hrs straight. (Btw, I cross the finish line at 06:20 mins in the link above! ;-)). I know 2+ years is way too long a time for anything to heal, so the problem now is definitely not because of that. But, tell you what? It’s some sort of a mental connection I have made up and that has stuck to me ever since that day: my right knee is not alright since Oxfam. In a way, I like to keep it that way, because it reminds me of two things: 1) what the tough conditions of a real run/trek mean and 2) the cardinal truth of long distance running/trekking/whatever you put your body through – pain is inevitable. So I’d rather stick to what I have now defined for myself and accepted as a small personal motivation factor – there’s something wrong with my right knee for a while, and I’m ok living with it. But that won’t stop me from running. 

So, the point: associating with an impactful (and preferably painful, for pain is what keeps it going) event is a good way to keep oneself focused on the training. 

Back to the training. What I also realized when the knee hurt too much this week is that I have long stopped training with weights. Stamina is not a problem now, but strength is. Maybe because my muscles are not strong enough for 30 kms in a week, so my body is letting my bones bear the brunt. And those are two entirely different things, stamina and strength, especially for a long distance runner. This may or may not be factually correct (who cares?), but it is definitely true for me. It was a simple thing that I had happily chosen to neglect in the past two months’ break. I need to pick up the weights again. And I’ve got to make my muscles learn that more pain is on the way.

Thoughts on motivation to keep running

A few personal thoughts on motivation to keep running:

Fitter, the sooner the better: I'm slowly but steadily getting back to running regularly, after a gap of almost 2 months. However, the three days I ran in the past week have made me realize I'm very much out of form, worse than I expected. I'm puffing and panting to do 10 kms. I stopped at 7 kms on one of those days. I need to get fitter, the sooner the better. I have the Chennai Marathon 2017 coming up in exactly 7 weeks from now. I ran the Dream Runners Half Marathon in July in 02:06 hrs. Right at the finish line, I put my mind to sub-2hrs in the next. I'm anxious about finishing it now. Certainly not good! Thankfully, it's still 7 weeks to go. So I went about thinking of ways to keep the mind charged for the same. Collecting good memories of the days well run is one. Where art thou, my good days of running?

Messages from the greats: Reading about what has helped some phenomenal long distance runners is another way to derive charge. And so, I went back to Haruki Murakami's 'What I talk about when I talk about running' again. I bought and read the book about a year and a half ago. It's a masterpiece with messages that carry hard truths about long distance running, with much simplicity and brevity. And there's one simple truth in long distance running that I loved from him that comes up in the Foreword itself. I quote him: Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional. And so, here's to more pain.

As an aside:

I'm no plagiarist: Usually, when I read, I underline my takeaways so that when I feel like re-reading the book, I can just read these messages and walk away with the feeling of having read the book again. For some reason, today I wanted to re-read the full book itself. Just when I was halfway through the first chapter, to my shock, I found a striking similarity in his message (which I had not underlined) and my approach to running a few tough days of my 100DaysofRunning. It must have been a subconscious recollection of the message (unlikely, for I would have underlined it!) or a pure coincidence (which is an exhilarating feeling since I then get to share one trait of long distance running with a great runner! How about that?!) Eitherway, it felt like it was so much in me those days, but I was sinking into his message for the first time. I quote Mr. Murakami:

"When I'm criticized unjustly (from my viewpoint, at least), or when someone I'm sure will understand me doesn't, I go running for a little longer than usual. By running longer it's like I can physically exhaust that portion of my discontent. It also makes me realize again how weak I am, how limited my abilities are. I become aware, physically, of these low points. And one of the results of running a little farther than usual is that I become that much stronger. If I'm angry, I direct that anger toward myself. If I have a frustrating experience, I use that to improve myself.  That's the way I've always lived. I quietly absorb the things I'm able to, releasing them later, and in as changed a form as possible, as part of the story line in a novel."

And I had said last week: "Some days, I ran longer, proportionate to the intensity of anger I felt, to the point that on a few occasions, sheer exhaustion would beat the anger".

[The one point where I'm now aware I have failed is 'That's the way I've always lived'. No, I have not. In fact, the days (sometimes weeks) I have not run to drive away the anger/discomfort have cost me badly, both personally and professionally. I should've known better. I need to work towards that]

Anyway, someone pointing out the true source/origin of an idea or a thought is the death bell for the plagiarist. He should know better to protect the source/origin than his efforts to polish and present the message. So, if I were really a plagiarist, I wouldn't dare quote this. But I have. Hence proved that I'm no plagiarist!

How I ran my 100DaysofRunning

The first thing I need to do to keep this place alive is to stop planning and committing to write. 'Will come back for more', or 'watch out' have not helped. Not to mention the latest - which is now a year ago! - coming back with more on my running journal. Not surprisingly I still have not done my first full marathon. I won't be doing it this year. And personally, that's a disappointment for having boasted quite a bit about my running. I procrastinated hard training till the thought of hard training faded away! So much for bragging that I'm a runner.

That said, 2017 has indeed been better than 2016. And 100DaysofRunning is definitely the main reason. It's no big feat by any measure, still, for once I would like to take pride in what I accomplished. For it revealed not how much I can take, but how I can take it, and keep testing my limits. How much is nothing. 5 kms a day, on average, for 100 days in the runners' world would probably not be that much different from 'hey, I've got a job in IT' 20 years after the industry has come about, and especially after it's past its heydays! (Occupational hazard, you see!). That's all there is to the how much really. But the how was definitely more interesting and revealing than I had anticipated. For, the moment I push towards how much, the mind competes with just about anybody I can think of. But when it comes to the how, it competes with just who I was till then. At least, that is how I want to take everything. I would like to live as if I have no competitors except myself, want to be better than the man I was yesterday. And running does help in its own way, help change my life, help change one small perception or motivate to do one small positive thing at a time.

So, here goes the mildly adventurous story of an amateur runner's 100DaysofRunning:

The first 10 days were easy because of the adrenaline of having gotten started and counting the initial excitement in days. The next 10 were again easy because I did the first ten without a break. At this point, I was also at the 100 kms mark. Then, as it is a common belief that anything you do continuously for roughly 20 days becomes a habit, the next few days, till the 50th day, were more or less routine. I mostly struck the run off as a daily chore. The days when I missed the mornings, I ran in the night. Some days, I missed the planned night runs also, thus scrambling at around 11.30 PM or so, to run  the min 2 kms/day mandate. From 20 to 50, the daily kms started trickling down, but a couple of professional half-marathons helped fill the gap in the average. Actually, I took the liberty of cutting down on the 5km/day just because of this. (And that definitely would figure in as a disappointment to a true runner to whom consistency is everything!). But you have to listen to your body. Some days it just cannot move, and it will not. Those were the days of just meeting the minimum mandate of 2 kms/day. And thus went the first 50 days. The 50th day was, as expected, a psychological barrier, for I was literally at the 'half done' point of a job well begun.

The days from 60-80 were the most challenging. By then, the routine was fully set, a habit was more or less in place, and the 'motivation thrust' had completely died down. So why would I run? To make matters worse, my body just wouldn't budge. Those were the days of intense pain. Some days, my legs would just keep trembling for hours at a stretch. I still ran. I just ran. In fact, I ran with the 80th day as the finish line in mind, for I knew the last 20 days would again be a period of intense anticipation and excitement to get to the finish. It's like the last couple of miles to the finish line in a half marathon, where one would forget the 18 kms already done, but run these 2 kms as if one were chased by a pack of ravenous wolves. At least, that's how I have run all my finishing miles in every half marathon till date.

Come 80. It's just amazing how the mind can rewire and the heart refresh when the finish line is in sight. It's like coming a full circle. The mind has its own way of teaching patience, not to hurry or be overambitious to do 10 kms every remaining day. Stick to the basics. It's not a race. By this time I had built more than the target average of 5km/day. All I had to do was just keep to the minimum of 2km/day and I would make it past 500. Thus, 80-100 was a breeze.  I wrapped up the 100 days with 511 kms. So, there!

On the 100th day, I felt a mild sense of satisfaction and pride on how I had come to finish it. More than that, I felt peaceful. And peace was what I was after, because these 100 days happened right after a crisis. In fact, I wanted these 100 days to help me stabilize my mind and heart, to help me beat the crisis. Anger and rage were getting the best of me, and I HAD to run to keep the anger away, to beat it to pulp. Some days, I ran longer, proportionate to the intensity of anger I felt, to the point that on a few occasions, sheer exhaustion would beat the anger. I ran. And thus passed the 100 days.

I heartily thanked Mother Nature, the God Almighty, for taking me through all this. For, many days it would have been impossible to move if I had not felt the invisible hand that woke me up from bed, that patted on my shoulders to simmer my anger and put the shoes on, that lifted me up in the middle of the road, that high-five'd when I finished running on some testing days, or stood at the finish line on two of the professional half-marathons during the course of the 100 days. It was all worth it. It was worth every one of the 100 days.

All of this points to the simplest of truths when it concerns both the body and the mind. No pain, no gain. I took a long break, for more than a month, and now I'm back on the road again. So, here's to more running! (Oops. I shouldn't say that, rite?)

My running journal

From the start of the year, I feel I have come quite a long way in my running journey than I had hoped to. Not letting that pride get to my head, here I go, with more on my running year-to-date.

Year-to-date, I have completed five half-marathons – all organized professional runs – and tens of 10Km and 5Km runs – a few professional ones, but most of them my morning runs. I feel good, but I also feel I have barely scratched the surface when it comes to long distance running. Till I picked up running as a serious ‘thing’ casually on one fine day in 2014, I did not know I had it in me. I can’t even call this ‘long-distance running’ yet, as I haven’t even done one full marathon till now. Maybe I might do one this year.

I have always been a restless, do-it-fast, sprinter of sorts – both in running/sports and in life. But somehow, that ‘one fine day’ changed it all. I don’t even remember now or didn’t even care then to note down which day that was, probably because I might have felt it would not amount to much when I would look back on that day from the lens of today. But I clearly remember the flurry of emotions, agonies and pains I endured in the initial days, even for a 30 min 5Km run. It has been two full years. What a journey it has been! 

Going forward, I plan to maintain my runner’s journal here, capturing each and every one of my runs. Now and then, I have felt like doing so, but kept pushing it off, thinking why do I need to capture it. How is my running going to matter at all? But the last five days of brutal pain I’m going through made me sit up today and want to capture my running journey in detail, so that whenever I feel down, I can relive some of my precious moments of running, and pick myself up from that again. Another noteworthy thing that has prompted me to plan to write about it going forward, is the book ‘What I talk about when I talk about running’ by Haruki Murakami, in which I’m thoroughly enjoying every bit of the author-runner’s journey. Who knows, years from now, some day, I might come back to enjoy my own journey! That is the feeling.