It all began with a comment
during the Nilgiris Run in December last year. “You know, when you run, your
feet fall like this.” Kavitha said this while gesticulating with her palms
facing downwards to show how my toes pointed outwards and away from the other
foot. “No wonder you pull the ligament in your hips on the long runs.”
I tried to smile and summarily
dismissed what I had just heard as something unworthy of even second thoughts.
And so rested matters.
But its different with Kavitha.
She just says something, points things out and lets it be. She doesn’t nag; she
simply expresses her opinion and that’s it. And because she doesn’t irritate me
into agreeing with her point of view, it doesn’t give me the opportunity to dig
my heels in, let out a howl of protest, take a firm decision to not do what I
am being told to do or throw other such tantrums. I don’t know if Kavitha has
come across the magic formula to deal with a difficult person like me but on hindsight,
she somehow manages to get me to do her bidding without shoving it down my
throat. And I guess that’s how things will remain till I find a way out of this
situation – of somehow drawing Kavitha into an argument, digging my heels in,
letting out a howl of protest, taking a firm decision to not do what Kavitha
tells me to do or throwing other such tantrums. Having said that, I must admit it feels nice that I have the freedom to do what I want, even if my Chief of Crew doesn't necessarily agree with me.
Upon joining boot camp, I had a
brain overcast with thoughts as I ran. The disaster that the past year was, the
runs that weren’t, the DNF at Hyderabad, the personal issues to tackle head-on,
the professional problems that needed to be addressed, the running related
matters that had to be taken care of, my social activism…the list was endless,
the problems to be sorted out all queued up. The first few runs would be on a
full mind and I knew I would feel quite light (at least not feel as weighed
down as I was feeling) at the end of the first week’s run.
Ten minutes into the run, my mind
stopped and the legs continued running. Why was I running? Certainly not to run
away from problems. Certainly not to find solutions to the problems I was
facing. And as I ran, I realized I was once again running for all the wrong
reasons. I realized there was no celebration of running in my runs anymore. And
there and then, at that very point, I decided that running would be nothing if
it wasn’t a carefree trot. Running would be nothing if it weren’t a source of
unbridled joy. Running would be nothing if it weighed me down with the problems
that weighed me down when I was not running. And if at the end of each and
every run, my mind did not say “YIPEE!!” to me, I was running wrong and needed
to check my premises. Finishing strong was something I had heard, finishing
with a smile was something I strived for.
As if on cue, the sun threw off
its blanket of darkness and emerged on the horizon. Was that a sign? No, not
really. The practical me did not believe in such old wives’ tales. Then the sun
winked at me and smiled. A smile that turned it all pink which gave way to a hue
of orange. Okay, so that was a sign
after all.
I had been so busy looking at the
sun that I wasn’t looking at the road at all. Not the best of things to do
while running on the highway, so I looked at the road. Then I looked down to
see the road where my feet were falling and all I could see was my paunch. The
road simply wasn’t visible. Maybe, I should invent a contraption like a bar
which could be attached to my head. The bar would have a mirror at one end and
when I looked into the mirror, I would be able to see my feet exactly where and
how they hit the ground. Right then, I stumbled and almost went flying. Thanks
to all the gymnastic moves I had seen on TV, the Akshay Kumar and Jackie Chan
movies I had seen and memorized, I did a double sommersault, a half twist, a
backflip and landed on my feet, saving myself from a fall. After that, all that
kept playing in my head was ‘Humpty Dumpty…’
On the second run, the cold
brought back memories of the Nilgiris Run. “You know, when you run, your feet
fall like this.” Kavitha said this while gesticulating with her palms facing
downwards to show how my toes pointed outwards and away from the other foot.
“No wonder you pull the ligament in your hips on the long runs.” I bent over my
paunch to look at my feet and made an effort to see that fell straight. It felt
strange; something new. No, it wasn’t painful at all. Just strange, new and
different. So I continued to run that way, watching every step. Then it started
to pain. The lower back. But of course it would. What else was to be expected
if a person, while he was running, bent over his paunch to look at his feet and
ensure that he got them to fall straight? Then I realized I must also have
looked extremely stupid running while bending over my paunch to look at my
feet… And if that doesn't sound embarrassing enough, I was struck by even
higher knowledge. That I did not need to see my feet to get them to fall
straight. I just needed to consciously place them straight as they came to touch
the ground.
And I continued running, always
conscious that my feet landed straight, straight, straight. The next few runs went by in the same way. I
was conscious of my feet falling straight. The soreness in the ankles also made
me conscious; so long as it did not pain, it was okay but I needed to keep a
watch.
This went on for about two weeks
after which I only needed to check once in a while that the feet continued to
fall straight. Never disappointed, I would now try increasing my pace, I
thought.
In between this and in course of
the run, some thought was spared for serious issues like where to pee. The
importance of this cannot be overstated, especially if the run passes by places
like public conveniences that are missing or are closed, a railway overbridge
with electricity cables passing under it, the Gujarat High Court, a civil
hospital, etc. I have already blogged about it in detail earlier so I will not
dwell further on this.
However, after I blogged about
it, I couldn’t help wonder how akin I was to dogs who marked their territory
and their route and sniffed their way back home. Then I thought about dogs in
general, how they lived a dog’s life, really, their mindsets, their outlook,
their philosophy, etc. A dog’s philosophy towards life??? Yes, a philosophy
which suggested, “If you cannot eat it, if you cannot play with it, pee on it
and walk away.” What a wonderfully cool philosophy to have! Damn! If only I
could live my life that way some day. He who said, “It’s a dog’s life” probably
did not know his ass from his elbow and therefore, did not know what he was
talking about.
During all these runs, I have
realized that my mind is a superlative DJ. There is a song that is always at
hand for any situation. If I trip, "Humpty Dumpty" starts to play on its own. On
days when it is chilly in the morning and people are sitting around bonfires,
my mind automatically starts to play “We didn’t start the fire”. On days when I
cannot think of anything, I think, “Why this Kolaveri Di”. Emerging from yet
another man-dog face off, I always find myself singing, “Who Let the Dogs Out”.
I could go on and on…
Of late, I have started to not
just think, but use logic as well to give my puny brain some exercise. Before
reading further, let readers be warned that theoretically, when a person runs,
the blood supply is more to the legs than to the brains and so the logic may be
quite… well… illogical. (And actually, I now have a logical reason for the way
I behave – its all because of the ultraruning I do.) No wait, I’ll leave that
for the next post. So that's something to look forward to.
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