Monday 24 January 2011

Places I remember...

I was thinking about my first time running long distance. It has the quality of a dream, going back in time. I have always been running, all my life, pretty much. And I *don't* mean running behind my maid and ensuring she cleans behind the door [not that I would judge you if you do it; I am not like that, thats all]. But I would run a maximum of 5 km, in a maximum of 25 minutes. Really, I started in earnest in 2004. Yes, the year the monster was born. She was 6 months old when I ventured to the local gym. Which means, it was after (9+6) 15 months of no exercise [not counting the yoga, duck walks, and such like that was doing in my second and third trimester of pregnancy & the leg lifts and so on that my Ob/Gyn had given me to do post delivery. Again, if you are lapping this stuff up, I am not going to judge you, but that stuff was just not cutting it for me. Not enough aerobicity]. I was also considerably heavier than I was used to. I tipped the scales between 42-48 kilos for most of my adult life. Suddenly, I found myself at 54, 55, and so on [post delivery]. I always had tight muscles, now I actually had flab I could grab on to, in my mid-section [well, I still do, but just not as much, and I still weigh something like 54 kilos - not very sure about the number].

Mum read Robin Sharma and said, Kenny, you should try it. I was apprehensive about it. I mean, I don't do those things, you know. Self-help books and the like. But mum was insistent. I was very, very sleep deprived. I had a headache constantly. I was worried about my students. I was still worrying about squishing the monster in bed. I was worried about the flab. I was hungry. I was eating industrial quantities of horlicks and this awful vegetable [dill, suva, sopsige]. I was worried about my milk. I was worried that I would have too little but bothered that it was too much. I was worried about everything. So, I gave this a shot. What did I get from Robin Sharma? Waking up at 6 am.

Wake up at 6 am for 15 days at a stretch. This was the simple aim. And I did it. I sat around and pretended to breathe deep and focus on something those 15 days. Then I got out, nearly crying as I tried to fit into my exercise pants. I went to the 'forest' as its called [its man-made]. Mum was walking her walk, fast. I was trying to run. I was DYING at the uphill section [it is about 10 meters in length, not more, I swear, I could EAT that forest trail now]. I let myself die for a few more rounds, even as I worried about the milk, the monster, the diaper, the solids, the formula, my students, my classes, and the distinct lack of clothes to wear.

In 2005, in Jan, I signed up for a 7 km. I could run on the treadmill - 4 - 5 km, somewhat easily by then, thanks to 6 whole months of that. The husband, always supportive. We still had a night feed to contend with. I don't remember how I got to Azad Maidan. I don't remember what I wore. I don't remember the shoe I used. I remember that I had to walk part of the distance, and it was crowded, and I finished in reasonable time. And returned home to monster.

Before I knew it, I found myself spending an extra hour at work, changing into running clothes and running by the lake. 'You have to be able to do 10 km at a stretch; do that, then we can train' said my friend, who read a book which said that. I could do that. 10 km. No problem. By the lake. We drove around and discovered that from Guest House to Temple was 0.95 km. We included an extra loop so that we could have our own 2 km circuit for training. We added 2 km every week to our long run. We did 5-7 kms through the week (once or, at most, twice a week). I dealt with a coughing child. A child who refused formula milk. Work. Traffic. 'How will my running affect my family?' 'Can you see my tummy jiggle when I run?' thoughts through my head.

Jan 2006, the husband drove me to Azad Maidan at wee hours for my 21 km race. I was nervous and excited. It was not such a big race back then. I wore three quarter length cotton pants. A cotton tee. A hat. Shoes that were 0.5 a size too small [pregnancy made my feet grow, I swear]. These were bright blue nikes. Very cute looking, but... My toe nail fell off... My calves cramped up at 14 km. I walked. I dragged. I thought about monster. And husband. And Pongal [Mumbai Marathon is always filled with thoughts of Aviyal and Pongal]. I met some fantastic people. I ran again from km 18. Somehow. I finished it! There was a line for certificates. I stood there. That is all I remember...

This is why I think a 30 day challenge will work. I feel that those 15 days of waking up early, no matter what. Not doing much beyond getting myself awake, I feel that that is what helped me latch on to this running business with intensity. And its been a totally fun ride, especially this past year, I have really discovered the joy of it. I don't think about it constantly. But everyday a trigger goes, at some point, Hey Kenny, its the 24th today. Drop down. I do wish I had a less achy body. I do wish I could get a more tangible benefit [tighter abs] from it, but hey, there is February just round the corner! For now, this is good enough...

5 comments:

Perakath said...

Aaaaaarggghhhh toenaillll..... !!!1!

Parul said...

Incredible. How do you do it?

In other news, I think I am ready for my round two of weight-loss and strength training. Hit me, gym!

dipali said...

I need to start something more than my walks. Something do-able for a lazy kind of person.

Choxbox said...

Go girl!

wordjunkie said...

Even a month ago, this post would have had me quaking in fear. But then they went and shut the pool down , forgot to open it up again and I thought I would kill myself with all the excess energy that walking was not using up. And decided to try running.
Considering how ungainly I felt the first few days, how utterly out of element - and it still ain't swimming - am beginning to get it now.