What’s your marathon?

I finished my last run for 2021 this morning. In Manipal winters give you a pass. Except in the mornings when it winks at you as the morning light yawns and nudges out the moon. When I am out there, which happens best once a week, for my longer runs, usually on a Sunday, somedays it is disappointingly warm. On other days there is a lazy chill, not eager to really get on with its business. Occasionally it is somewhat properly cold, with a bit of a tangy breeze slicing through you. One starts in the pitch dark because even if the days are abysmally short, any later would mean finishing when everything is up and abuzz and there is too much sun to be comfortable. It is the golden hour. Few silhouettes in the distance, too early for the street dogs, who will shortly wake up and patrol their domain, sometimes snap at you for no reason. As much as I love dogs, I am afraid of them when I run. Once I was surrounded by an angry pack and one even charged up right to me. But before having to stay alert and watch out for unpredictable, overgrown snarly pups, there is such a time when you can lose yourself on a morning run. The night sky fades away gradually. Like little children unwilling to have their playtime curtailed you have the moon and a smattering of stars lingering in the faint light of dawn. Followed by a riot of colours in the horizon. A light mist rises over little waterbodies like the steaming cuppa in your kitchen. It is the most glorious time. My time.

I don’t get to run many mornings because of our work and home schedules. Except Sunday long runs, most of my runs happen after work in the evenings. Scampering back, zigzagging through the pre-run routine till I’m finally on the run. And depending on the workout, one goes from pure adrenalin rush doing intervals or speed sessions to zen calm on easy sessions. But there is no quiet. Not until you look up. The rolling fields of lush blue are a sea of silence, broken occasionally by a ripple of breeze. On hard days the sky is my solace. It is a treat most days. But especially on tough days when one is reeling from life and running the sky feels like a haven. In monsoons, of which we get plenty in Manipal, the bleary skies often melt into petulant rain. Sometimes when the weight of everything in and around seems too much, the sky seems to understand. The rain pours out and hugs you. On other days you run in sync with its ferocity. You flow like it does.

If you know me now, you know that I run. That I am writing about my running seems surreal though. You would understand what I mean if you knew me from before, especially if you knew me in school and college. How then, is probably not so relevant anymore. But why. That. One certainly continues to unpeel. When I began running in 2020, little distances were my marathon. With today’s run I finished 1500 kms for 2021. I ran a half marathon on Christmas Eve this year but my hardest effort right now, most certainly is an easy run for many runners. But one grows. In running, as in life it is all relative. One of the biggest reasons I am fond of running is because it is the best metaphor for life. I don’t run as a social activity, nor for weight, all though in my head I’ll always be the overweight kid who hated PT in school. Most days I run because it is a habit. But within the ambit of routine, I run to escape the world, to think and process, vent, to feel powerful and sometimes, to melt and become one with the sky and the rain. And many days at work, even in my science I think like a runner. To show up on hard days, beaten down, unsure and questioning. In feeling gratitude for learnings, failings and the opportunity to try again. In the rigamarole of the mundane in pursuit of the extraordinary. Sometimes that is where the power lies. Your marathon, maybe that one step holding you back. From believing in how truly amazing you can be and how much fun is to be had in chasing just that.