Excitement, Apprehension

I am subscribed to a number of whatsapp groups. Like the mobile phone itself, I think back to a time before whatsapp and cannot imagine how I managed to get anything done without it. The child cracks jokes about my 'whatsapp obsession' as she calls it - which angers me - partly 'cause it's true - but it is handy, I cannot deny.

Tomorrow is the Mumbai Marathon. Regulars here know that it's the time of my annual pilgrimage to Mumbai, therefore. I usually use the opportunity to meet students, colleagues and friends in Mumbai when I go run the race. But this time I just plan to go, pick up the bib, run, and return back.

The whatsapp groups are 'buzzing' with excitement. We are a number of us traveling from Chennai so the energy is palpable across the waves and feels great. Unlike the others, I slept deeply and when I woke up at 5 am for my customary visit to Porcelain Goddess, I wondered what day of week it is, what do I need to do, when do I need to wake up, etc. for a second.

I usually run a couple of nice long runs - 30kms or thereabouts - before every marathon. For my first marathon I ran around 3 of them. This is my third time running the Mumbai Full Marathon, and fifth full marathon overall of my life. I remember the goal (one of the) for my first full marathon (at Mumbai), was that I wanted to keep running them.

And that has more or less fallen in place- couple times a year I have been donning the shoes (or vibrams, since last year), and lining up for a full marathon. I have a reasonable handle on training for the same, and when people ask, the thing I recommend the most is being sensible and following the program as much as possible.

This year I haven't followed my own advice, so to speak. I have run, consistently and continuously, through at least the second half of the year. I have kept up my strength training workouts, and done a lot of mixing up of pace - due to various reasons - over the course of the past several months.

But I haven't run the 30km long run. I like that one. It's difficult enough as yet that I can't throw them down at will, and the legs feel 'ready' for the 42km after it. I had one weekend - in the entire year - when it make sense to run it. And.. I fell sick. With a throat infection. I have recovered from it and done a decent number of HM distance runs after it, but that still bothers me!

So much that I almost forget that I ran a 50km run after that tryst with germs! But tomorrow, my goals are laid out. I am carrying a ball point pen to write down notes to myself (on my arms), and am hoping that the slight apprehension I feel, is just nerves and nothing real. If I read enough whatsapp messages of others, perhaps their excitement will nullify it!

Breakfast of Champions

August is Blog Month. Oh yes.

This morning, I woke up. Early. My entire being was concentrated on one thing::

Must Buy Oats.

Oats? Yes. Oats. You heard me. What don't you understand now? No, its not euphemism. (Sow your wild oats, anyone?). I do mean the kind you eat, typically at breakfast. I haven't, not in a long while, but thats not the point.

I boiled milk. Threw the curtains into the washing machine. Crossed my fingers and hoped that the orange wouldn't run into the yellow. Cursed my guy for using up my precious machine washing powder for random cleaning round the house. My house looks unclean anyhow, go use the cheaper powder, you. I told him in my mind. I have to catch him this evening and make this sentence out loud.

Mustn't Forget Oats.

I changed into my running stuff. Trusty Timex. Pink Nike Running Shirt (purple-ish, actually, very comfy and awesome blossom). Cotton Sports Bra (Its a new one from Jockey, works well, I find, though I cannot imagine longer runs in it, thanks to the wetness part. Support-wise, its great. So for normal day exercise, I highly recommend it, girls). The only pair of shorts I could find (Nike, Mens, my 'race' pair, the one I have for years and wear at every race). Vibrams (Ah-Ha What a glorious day, when you are going to run <1.5 hours, and don't need socks). Ratty towel. Red bottle of diluted Gatorade.

Oats, Baby. Take Cash. Rs. 500.

Quick kisses. One stubbly cheek, one soft tiny one. Bye you guys (in my head, I said). I groped in the dark for my bike keys and house keys and let myself out of the house. Still dark outside. Perfect. Hope the guys are there. Of course they will be there. They are rock solid that way. And the nicest guys, really. Most sweet. No hang-ups or airs about them.

So, Oats On My Way Back? Yeah.

We ran the usual Thursday route, which is about 12 kms in length (urk, Distance). I still stumble about - though I think I am finally clear on the directions - today. KP suggested mixing it up. 4 mins slow. 1 min walk. 4 mins fast. 1 min walk. It felt good. I could push on the fast to a reasonable pace, finally a happy pace, comforted that a walk was upcoming. KP would call out 5-4-3-2-1 to stop and walk. Those were most welcome words, I swear. Vibrams made me a quiet runner today (leave only your footprints behind types). The first sight of the Sea at Elliots beach, gosh, its a beautiful thing. Waves breaking. We continued on though, gasping a bit on the fast, catching our breath on the walk, chatting on the slow.

Bye You Guys. I Have To Buy Oats.

Biked over the smelly bridge. Hit upon another idea. Turned left and meandered through the new running route that my new running friend has shown me. ZiggyZagged to the store, which was open, how awesome is that? I have a funny walk in my Vibrams. I am sure if my stubble-cheeked, sleeping giant of a husband sees me walk in them, he will tease me about it. But hey! Guess who was asleep and guess who was in the store. First customer of the day. Oh yeah.

Oats: Rs.125. Not-Cold-Minute-Maid-Orange-Juice: Rs.20

I fixed up everything on my bike thing. The carrier. Yes. Wrapped my sweaty towel and tied it up good. And, narrowly avoiding honking motorists, I made my way back to the house. Fished key out but the door was open anyhow. In I went. All pink (or purple, depending on how you view it). And jubilant. And endorphined. And just a tad hurting - just enough - to remind me that I had a good run.

The Oats? Were boiled to within inches of their life. Which is how my parents-in-law like to consume them. I did good and handled a domestic situation alongside obsessive running, like a true pro. No one in the household knew that I (& the cook) had messed up and not put oats on yesterday's list (We just forgot yaar). And somehow I felt like Batman when I walked up to my bedroom and the monsters were still sleeping...

Breathe Easy

One of the things that is bothering me of late is the distinct feeling of having slowed down. I definitely felt out of sorts and crazy tired out when I ran the race in Cambridge (crazy posturing notwithstanding). I start off at a particular pace every morning, and find that I have to ease off, pretty soon. Mostly, this is because my breathing is weird. Breathing has been on my mind anyhow.

Recently, when Grandma (not my own, my husband's) was in the hospital, one of the things that was most painful to see was how she was struggling for breath. Even as we talked intelligently with the doctor about ventilators and breathing support and so on, back of the mind was that odd feeling. Breathing? Such a basic thing that is, how is one to go on when its difficult to do so? In a short month, with things slowly deteriorating, Grandma went away from us. Of course, to a better place.

Under the water, meanwhile, the thing foremost on my mind is breathing. Will I run out? Should I get out right now and gasp it in? If I go swim regularly for a few days, jump in and do what I do, pretty much thrashing about, I managed to fight the fear. And control myself, and just come up when my routine demands it (every three strokes). But its easy to lose that control. And I am clear something is messed up because I am still struggling overall, not as comfortable with the whole thing as I should/could be.

In the air, what is the big deal really? In-Out-In-Out : Its that simple, innit? I know this part. And am yet several years away from having to struggle for it.. But still, I have been watching my breath (you know what I mean) a lot lately. Its not so simple. I am doing a new exercise routine (couple of new ones, actually). The e-coach there insists on a certain pattern of breathing. I get it wrong, as in, instinctively, I inhale when he expects exhalation, and vice versa. I feel it going wrong the second I speed up. Of course, because of trying all these years to be a bare-bones runner, I don't really know my pace, or my heart rate, when I run. I just sort of estimate that my feet are moving faster than usual, or not. Except that its more 'or not' of late, because my breathing, which has to get into a rhythm if I have to continue on, doesn't.

"I have gained a few kilos" someone running alongside me said a few days ago, explaining his slowing down (or perception thereof). Well, I have not (nor lost any). I think I have been doing everything I usually do. Meaning, I don't diet or anything. I eat whatever I feel like, and is available. I do eat several meals a day - this I cannot help because of my crazy ass metabolism and my life long inability to eat large amounts of anything in one sitting. I am regular in my exercise, as recommended. Oh hell. I am VERY regular. Other parameters are good. Heart, Lipids (broadly), Sugar, Hemoglobin - yeah its all good. Of course I can train better - more scientifically, more systematically. But the motivation for that is not happening, so, I am not. I have the choice, thankfully. I am not racing anyone but myself, obviously.

So, what gives? My theory is that its old age. Murakami surely says that he has been slowing down as he grows older. & I? Am doing the same. The paces that felt casual last year, well, they have me gasping. And I don't gasp along for long enough for anything to happen, really. I do push myself, but not really that much. I just ease off. I am not in this for the short haul. I am definitely in this for the long haul. Long distance running. And life.

This past weekend I cut up all the old timing chips from all my shoes... They are all from half marathons. The innumerable ones I have run in the past several years. Its time to move on... Not harder/faster, but surely longer... at least that lets me breathe easy...

For my files...

Sometimes I wonder, why do I write this blog? One thing I hate about it is that it lacks a theme. An overarching theme of being about Kenny's life seems quite ridiculous. At times. I love my regular readers, mostly, they are my friends. But most times, I think I write for myself. This post, I want to read later, maybe a year or two later, and bask in the feeling of today.

Despite my reprimands to the effect, I do snooze, a little bit, usually. I was not planning on sticking too closely to a time this morning anyhow, as I was going to be alone, running. But its always helpful to start early - as a visitor from Bangalore recently said - in Chennai. Because of the weather, the cars, and generally, because its more bad-ass to start at 5 am when its still dark, than at 6 am when the rest of the walkers/runners are up and at it.

Nevertheless, it was 6 am. I saw a message from MSB saying he is heading for his run as well. Which was pretty cool, considering the number of miles and time-zones that separate us. Ipod, special blue tshirt from RGI (Runner Girls India), basketball shorts that I was wearing since last night, trusted timex, amphipod with a Gu and Rs. 60 (never seem to use either), towel, socks, and the old pair of asics that I bought a few years ago in a cute store in NYC...

I first turned left, for my daily dose of the Adyar river. My legs, they have suffered this week. They have borne the brunt of my increased mileage, not to mention that crazy fucking plyometrics workout with husband. 40 mins later I was back at the home-base. Except that I went on ahead to the university campus. As I was running towards it, dogs barked at me from the police station. So I crossed the road and was running on the median. Two cars filled with men passed by, chose to roll down their windows, and shout "HEYYYY" in my ear. Fucking assholes, scared the crap outta me. Gave them the finger salute. 45 mins.

I entered the campus, as usual there was a political rally or something going on, right bang in my running route. Damn. Turned right and meandered through for a bit, counting off the minutes, and hoping to see the birds (a bright blue kingfisher two days ago) that I often see. Nothing today. Oh well. I got out of the campus and on the road again towards my own campus. 58 mins.

Great. I am close to an hour now. And maybe the homies are awake and driving to the pool. Would be cool to say hi. Take a break. Drink some cold water if they have it. The sun is not bright, but its humid as hell. No luck. No sight of them. I gave myself a walk break, stepping gingerly as I crossed the main intersection at the end of the road. A quick right, and I am inside my verdant campus. 1:13. Legs feel like lead. My pace seems to be completely off, but I am hanging on, not letting go.

I ran the length of the main road, and into the stadium. There were gazillion kids in there of all ages. Some tournament. I ran three loops, ran into the customary student while at it (Please, can you go ahead, I cannot keep up with you today, I am 1:27 into my run for the day). Gave up the idea of stadium loops and went off to the back to the roads. Nothing fancy, just one foot in front of the other. The shirt holding up pretty good, lack of sleeves a goddamn blessing, thank you Sudha Mani. But I am soaking wet. Just soaking.

Have I miscalculated? Why am I hitting close to 2 hours and still so far from the gate? Oh well. Now there is no choice. Left foot, right foot, left foot. Walk break, please, Kenny, pretty please. Okay, at the gym, not now. Here we are, at the gym. Just a bit more, at the circle. The few sips of gatorade (very very dilute) are nevertheless sloshing. I am beyond tired. The Gu does NOT sound attractive. I have forgotten to eat this morning. My stomach has been cramping since.. oh.. since I woke up (that time of month). Hell. Soldier on, Kenny, soldier on.

I run into a friend, flash him a smile. 2:02. 'Dude, are you crazy?' 'Nah, just training. If its any consolation, I am DYING right now' I tell him. 'You don't look like you are dying, you are looking robust' he tells me. Gives me josh. In basketball, we often say, the important thing is body language. You know, shoulders straight. Eyes hungry for the win. That sort of thing. So Hells Yeah Baby. I got this. I have lost track of time now.

Important points of pain, I count. Arches of my feet/ankles (that went away though, in a couple of minutes). Knees feeling a bit delicate ('Champagne Flutes' I was reminded of Kathrine Switzer on her training run in the woods... Just before she fucked up the knee... Nah, not today, Kenny). The bloody sloshing is driving me a bit crazy, especially since I can hear it in addition to feeling it (since the ipod has died an ignominious death, again!). The stomach cramps are there. I am reminded of a game that Steffi Graf, apparently was suffering from them, in. Gosh, a memory from so long ago (clearly, I need no pen-sieve or vials). I used to love her, and hate her. She had breast reduction surgery, I remember reading, and laugh to myself.

2:20. I give myself a walk break and look around for a 'well deserved tender coconut' as I have been calling it since few weeks ago. Nope. No luck. I start running again at the signal. I am very close to home now, and I think of KP. Should I incorporate a bit of KP and do a Run:Walk Galloway? Nope. Too late for that. Just run straight home. The road to our new place... the bank... the clinic... my friend's store... the baby-products store... the tree... oh yes, baby, thats my left turn. And before I know it, I am home and its 2:30.

Sure, I took walk breaks, for the sake of dogs, to cross the road, and a couple of times for my own sake. I have no idea how much I have run. I figure its more than a half marathon, for sure, based on how the body felt. And since that was the aim, I don't worry any more about it... This week, my legs (and the rest of the body, and mind), have managed the increased mileage well. The hour long nap in the afternoon has me pretty much re-charged, and ready to take on the world. Tomorrow? I let my legs rest, in fact, I might even wash my shoes - all of them...

Keep the feet moving!

The river, I admit, is very attractive. Cross-roads every morning on short runs. Do I turn right and plod through traffic and enter the University campus in 10 minutes time? Or, do I turn left, pass the temple, run over the (smelly) river and loop around watching the commando troops, the canine gang, and the old people (and occasionally, my friend ludwig). Today I chose the river. My smelly neighborhood water body, hatcher of mosquito eggs, receptacle of trash, black as the night.

The bikila blister is a bit, how do I say it, colourful? There is a standard life-cycle of blisters in my feet (& legs & thumb too, one time each, in the recent past). I have tried to break that life-cycle with interventions with dettol, savlon, specialised band-aids, calendula nectar, betadine, and, more recently, gentian violet. I don't think it matters. It goes on to putrid-ness and when I ply myself with anti-biotics, in fear of full-body-sepsis (or whatever other gory denouement), it dries and scabs, and bleeds again one last time, and finally disappears, leaving behind angry scars as a reminder, sometimes.

"Do I feel faster in them?" No, I don't think so. I ran my usual short-run route, stopping myself from 'sprinting home' - which is not on the cards till next week, or thereabouts. They do feel good though. Since I killed my ipod on Sunday's long run, it was just me, my feet, and my vibrams today. As I was getting ready, I remember being excited, 'don't need socks! yes!' They are quiet. None of the heavy clomping. But today I discover that my tread is uneven. Hmm. Revelation.

I try to be as ambidextrous as I can. Does anyone remember a person called Dusty Fog? From way back when I used to read 'Western novels' as they were called. The standard Louis L'Amour and also an author referred to as J.T.Edson, I believe. Dusty Fog was a short guy who had the fastest trigger in all the west, and with both hands at that. So, I try to breathe every three strokes when I swim, coming up on alternate sides. As a rule. Not that I breathe or swim well (yet), but its the idea. I try to write with my left hand, periodically. I did used to take off on my left leg for the long jump, and also, for the sprint starts. But that was then. I even run loops in both clockwise and anti-clockwise directions now when I am in the oval stadium.

But my right foot plods and is more noisy than my left. My heel strike tendency is more on the right. My left foot has the blister so today things were a bit even. Pain and discomfort on both sides! Oh yes! Bring it! Yes, after 7 running miles of them, I am still loving them. My calves are a bit tight. I felt my toes a bit more today than the last time. One time, I stepped on the sharp end of a stone but my first thought was not 'ooh pain' but 'oh! hope that didn't spring a hole in my beautiful blue shoe'

In summary? A quiet neighborhood run, 4 miles (ish), people still giving my nose that intense stare (you crazy woman, types), bounciness at bay, loved the quietness & the philosophical musing possibility thus afforded, smell not too bad yet, fit is fine, loving it...

Kennys Day Out with Vibrams

(this image is from google, identical though to my own Vibram Bikila LS)

Preliminary

These shoes are ugly as hell, I thought. The first time I saw them (it was that black and green one), I was like ewww, whats that, please scrape it off your feet, mister. Anyway I saw it more and more around the place, its clearly the latest fad/craze. I thought nike must have made it, based on all the hype. And the fact that their running shoes have really sucked so far (I have reason to change my mind a bit on that one too, but thats for later). Anyhow, I never thought I would get on board the Vibram Five Fingers bandwagon, mainly 'cause I thought it looked ugly, and would be expensive.

Change of mind

I became open to the idea after reading about people wearing it all over the place, like to bars. If there is one thing I struggle with, its regular use footwear. I pretty much hate everything I have owned so far. For different reasons. I obviously am not a stiletto-type girl (or, for that matter, much into leather, not that there needs to be a connection). I rarely rise off the ground in my shoes. Despite the fact that my hunk-a-man is a foot taller than me and we might look more like a couple if I made the effort. Still didn't think I would try it out as running shoes till I did a Yasso-800 workout recently.

Sprint work-out, and Spring trip

The Yasso was fun. I did 6 rounds of it with jog/walk breaks. Every single step of it though, my asics felt like lead. I should be flying, if my shoes weren't weighing me down, I thought. I tried a couple of slightly fast runs with my nikes (which are, btw, better for this purpose than the asics, I have a couple of very basic nikes which have lasted long and look like dung but I do like them). Still, the mind started being open to something lighter on the feet, for the sprint workouts.

I don't like very flat footwear - I have tried them before, as regular use footwear. Hurt like hell. Felt the ground in a not pleasant manner. Balls of my feet felt wooden and burned. When MSB forced me to try the VFF on though, I felt awesome. Its *not* like the very flat slippers you get in Mumbai pavements. Its not like those stylish (meaning, crappy) women's chappals you get in the stores. It has a sole. Which I appreciate. It has some stuff going on in the sole, which may or may not make sense, but I am happy for it, anyhow.

Style statement

I wore them around the house a bit. Wore a blue shirt and wore them to work with that blue shirt one day. People still stared more at my face (and my beautiful nose) than my feet. Someone commented that it looked like prosthetic feet. So what?

My background

I am not much of a heel striker. Nope. I do pronate, I have flat feet, have had flat feet for as long as I can remember, used to be a fairly speedy runner in my youth. I used to run exclusively on my toes in youth, have developed a more healthy mid-foot (ish) strike of late. In terms of injuries, my ankles are shot. I occasionally suffer shin and knee pain. I have increased mileage subtly over the years and its broadly been okay. I lay off and rest when I sense anything going wrong. For the most part, I think I know my legs. And I have a few advantages. Low center of gravity (as I like to say it), for one. Decent musculature (fat calves I inherit from maternal family). Craziness. I am not into speed (yes, I avoid the drug too) much any more. It makes me uncomfortable. Oh yes, my back, for what it is, its strong. I mean, in light of C-section and giant pregnant belly (doc, are you sure its not twins?) a mere (!) 7 years ago.

First impressions

So, for a non-heel striker, why is my right heel sort of doing this? That was a first revelation. That although I assume I am not a heel striker, that I might be one, sort of. Otherwise, I did feel comfortable the entire duration of the run. I was a bit conscious initially but I settled in and enjoyed the feeling entirely. This is not saying much. Happens when I run in the asics/nikes too. But still, it felt good. I had some gravel getting in, was worried about it, but not enough to stop and shake it out. My little toe is disproportionately small so was worried about the fit there, but it worked ok. I suspected that the overall fit was a bit on the loose side for me (I have 'thin' feet but my second toe is super long; I fitted the shoe in the store in the afternoon, as recommended, so my morning feet felt a bit small in them). Didn't feel it though, as I ran. Initially, I felt a bit, uhh, how do I say it, bouncy? as I ran. Strange considering how very small I am in the breasts department. Definitely something different in how I am striking the ground, I guess. But I forgot about, and I feel fine now, no pain/chafing, and we save a review of sports bras for a later post.

Negatives

The shoe is overall slung low on my ankles. As a basketball player (just retired) and an asics-wearer, this is new, plus my ankles are not known for their stability. So I am a bit worried about this. Gravel is another issue as its not as snug a fit, and I didn't buy the socks (yet). Have to see how these pan out! I have one blister on the upper part of my foot. Small one.

Positives

Rest of everything is great. Looks really nice (another change of mind? maybe its just that its blue, the black/green one is pretty blah). Feels pretty comfortable. Didn't sweat as much as I expected it to. Held up okay on both road and mud-track.

Final words

For now, take it slow, thats the plan. Wear it on weekly short/speed runs. Am running a trail half later in September, don't think I will run that in VFF. Its a tough trail, will depend on Asics for that. I don't expect to see any new muscles (I am an old hand at this, people!), but hopefully, I get stronger, even as I age. And yes, maybe I will get one each of the other VFF models at a hundred bucks a pop, to wear to work, and to TASMAC stores...

Don't hit that snooze!

I was particularly euphoric. Which was strange. The past three days have been heavy on the mind. There has been stress, loss, crying, talking, work, family, driving, kids, a whole bunch of things going on. I have kept my equanimity for the most part by disappearing into a world of memories, turning away from the bad, sad ones, and focussing on the positive ones. I am a lucky girl, there is no doubt about it. I have a store of such wonderful memories, constantly replenished, that come to my assistance when I need them the most.

I was cycling past the University. I glanced at that favourite piece of gadgetry on my left hand. 7:45, it said. Its been 15 minutes fast since inception. I like that. Like I like the blue rim. And the fact that I still cannot successfully time my laps with it [seriously, that part is a bit clunky and non-obvious, but I don't mind]. I am reluctant to upgrade to a Garmin, when I know I should, because that will mean relegating my precious Timex Ironman to the sidelines. I might have to wear it to work then, with my matching Adidas flipflops, and that, my mum would object to seriously.

I saw two guys at a distance. Runners, obviously. I mean, although they were walking. When we started in the wee hours, when it was still dark outside, I had seen that the group was some 20 strong. I figured it was two people from the group, couldn't tell yet who it was. When I pulled up close & saw them, I had to stop. The brain was still in euphoria mode, after my own long run [16 ish km; 1:45; 'lost my mojo at IIT' but still continued to run]. One of them is a 55 year old person. He wears a camelbak. Last time I saw him, somewhere near Besant Nagar, I was at kilometer 12 and he was at .. uhh... kilometer 30? He had started running at 3:30 am. This was about a month ago. Yesterday, he was walking, after a 'well deserved tender coconut' he said, having finished his long run - a baby one, in his book.

"You, are such an inspiration" I blurted out.

"Anyone can run, just have to wake up early, thats all" he said.

There you go. He runs a marathon every month. He races too, improving his times every time he is there at the start line. Chennai is not the best place to run. Its super warm, and incredibly humid. People stare a little bit, at your legs, and your chest. He doesn't make excuses for himself. I have had long, winding conversations with him, as you often do when running. I hope to have more of them in the future.

Sure, I am aging. Sometimes, I feel it in my bones, sometimes, in my head. I do hit the snooze, once in a while. I do sleep in, every few days or so, unintentionally, and beat myself up for it. I don't run a marathon every month. I do my best to be diligent with my long runs for the weekend, but I find it easy to redefine things, to suit my convenience. But on Sunday, after a very difficult couple of days, and 4 hours of sleep, I did *not* snooze. I reached a few minutes after the gang (messed up the location of the start, in my hazy state of mind). Did a sprint to catch up with them. Met two new guys, and we suffered through our run together, trading stories. A discussion about gadgets, upcoming races, statistics, 'Born to Run'. When I ran into him near the library, I could hold my head high, and return his smile. Sure, thats the secret. To be able to smile on a Sunday morning after a long run, secure in the thought that you did not snooze....

Hello, Weekend? Goodbye, Weekend.

Do you dislike Mondays? I don't, so much. I used to hate Sunday evening/night more than any other thing. This was when we were in our long distance thing. He would leave back to New York on Sunday, in the evening. In anticipation of that, we would be at each other's throats the whole day (or nearly). I also had to cook stuff to send with him (the guilt, it hangs heavy on this one). As a rule, I enjoy cooking. But sometimes, it was just sad. I was sending him tupperwares filled with Sambar and Rasam and so on, and thinking, Shi-ite, he is going to have to make this last till wednesday at least (Thursday being Happy Hour day and no one eats old Sambar when you can play ridiculous games involving beer pitchers and such like, not even vegetarians. And Friday is when he would drive back up to College Inn - Seriously, I lived in a place that was called College Inn).

Now that we share a postal address, and have spawned a child, Sunday nights go very differently. We hang around. We polish the white shoes for Monday school. We eat leftovers (some things don't change, eh?). I cook sometimes, feeling very enthusiastic and driving up the house temperature by several. We go out and meet friends, sometimes, always telling ourselves that we ought to be back early because of school. I teach early class on Mondays, often. So I wake up super early and read and so forth. I wake the homies up and head off. I don't mind Mondays, its nice to have an early, fresh start to the week.

Since coming to Chennai, weekends have gotten fairly busy. There are the exercise orgy weekends sometimes - Long run Sat morning, Basketball Sat evening, Swim Sun morning, Basketball Sun evening. Those are lovely. Even though my eyelids start to droop by 8 pm. There are the social butterfly weekends - Long run Sat morning, Party Sat evening, Dehydrated Sun morning, Get Together Sun night. Then there are weekends like the last one, where I (a) cooked for several hours for several people (b) slept for several hours in several bursts. Not much exercise then, especially since there was a contagious jet lag type situation. He was genuinely, I think (having returned from parts West on Sat wee hours and Splish Splash Surely He Knew There Was A Party Going On and his grandmother was here too?). I was, just, in a zone.

I like to get my long run out of the way on Saturday. Its best for the household. My overall state of meta-stability means I get to avoid basketball for a few more weeks. I just went there and hung out on sidelines. The monster was running a bit of fever on friday so we did not bring her to the pool this weekend, which is just as well. I tried to sleep a bit extra this morning since it was a late-ish Saturday night (by my standards), but was rudely woken up by her. At least we sat in the garden for a bit and talked about Energy and so on for a few minutes. I am helping out with a summer camp for her school so that helped with some calibration. I cooked a bit. Veggie shopping combined with the dance class for monster. Lunch followed by a fairly long meeting about one of our upcoming trips. And a birthday party. Lots of new people met! A sprawling old house filled with heavy old artsy things!

So, on tuesday last, I posted the challenge. Here is how I have fared::

1. Running: 50 + 40 + 90 = 180 total mins. Possibly 18 miles, maybe a bit more.

2. Abs: 1 + 1 + 1 = 3.

3. Biking: 2 miles

4. Swimming: none

5. Interval w/o: none

This leaves me behind schedule. Definitely. By now, I should have run 25 miles. And done 5 sets of ab workouts. Other things are still handle-able. So, now I have to run 6 miles everyday this week to make up for that. The ab workouts I won't try.

Anyhow, what is left is: 57 miles, 12 ab workout events, 13 bike miles, 15 swim laps, and 2 interval workout events.

Till later then...

Indulgence

Gah

8.1 km

Saturday evening. Mar 5th.

I hate running in the evening. I will do whatever else it takes. Basketball. Swim. Veg. Eat murukku. Eat Horlicks (yes, my friends, I do. I love it. But someone please stop me; my tummy is grumbling and asking for Eno).

Here is how I am training for this race:

1. Trying to remember how much I ran it in last year (Cannot..Remember..)

2. Visualising the route - because last time, it felt surprisingly long for 8.1 km (Duh!)

3. Considering some sort of intervals/tempo etc. runs (and promptly dismissing it)

4. Swimming with the child, using a board (no, seriously, it was lots of fun and make me feel very...sleepy...through the day)

5. Thinking about p90x youtube thing that this kid forwarded to me (the guy looks super weird though)

The things that are demotivating me are:

1. No Other Female person runs it. At least, there were only two of us last year.

2. The average age of the runners is..uh...20 (there were five of us that were 35+ last year, rest of the 100 runners were...uh..18-22 years of age)

3. I can never never ever win or even come in the first ten (see points 1 & 2 above)

4. Evening run! Ugh!

Why am I still going to do this?

1. I am bored of my usual routes for running - the Boat place, yes, even the campus, this one and the other one, I am bored of. Beach? I wish someone would drive me so I don't have to worry about parking.

2. I don't run to win, duh! I run because its fun! And I love white rangoli marked courses

3. Everyone else is doing it (I mean, like, three of us oldies, the young kids run it because it wins them points and medals and so on)

4. Its just here. Its just February. There is nothing going on till like August now. I mean, really, nothing but sun.

5. I am hoping it will make me stop eating Horlicks. Seriously, I have to stop. Its not even mine, its the monster's.

Anyhoo.

Daily Grind

About a year ago I remember reading someone talk about how long they can go without running. I cannot remember who it was - probably Ultra Marathon Man Dean Karnazes - but I remember him (or her, could have well been) claiming that the maximum number of continuous days they have spent without running is something like 3. At that time my mileage was abysmal, I think, so I was amazed. I was also not in any type of routine thanks to the move from there to here and so on. But now that I am...

This number seems very very realistic. Granted, not all of my running is 'good' running. I have no specific goals in mind. Nope. No weight loss. No targeted race practice. No aim of switching to barefoot running (yes, that friend of mine, I mean you). I do try and sign up for races on a regular basis and try not to be too chill the weeks before the race. I swear about a month prior that I will kick ass on training with intervals, hills, abs, core, and what not. But it all never happens. I just sort of run (my base running component of training is always reasonable) and nothing else works. Intervals hurt my knee. Hills are not easily available here. Abs and core, are, well, just a royal pain in the gut (literally). So I plod on, goal-less for the most part.

Coming back to the number 3. I occasionally spend about 3 days without any particular exercise. Occasionally, as in, pretty rarely. For the past year, I think I have gone 3 continuous days without exercise (mostly, running), two times. Maybe three. In September, post the Chennai Marathon, I was in a bit of a funk, so I hung around and slept in the mornings. And then this past week, I have done the same. The excuses are varied, even the occasional planned run that I manage to miss, are for varied excuses. The main one in 2011 has been my shoulder. I invariably wake up with a searing pain in my shoulder, searing, not enough to worry that a bone is broken, of course, but just enough to make me want to curl up and go back to sleep - not that the sleep is restful either thanks to the shoulder.

Anyhow, this past week has gone that way. On Saturday the husb. and I went to the campus. He ran for a bit and cribbed incessantly until we reached the car and I handed him the key and said 'Fine, you go on to the gym, I will join you shortly' . I then proceeded to run around the place, telling myself to wrap up and head to the gym soon so I could get some pointers from him about which machines to try out. Then on Sat evening we played basketball, only, I had some work to do so I joined the game late and so only got a bit of sweating done. Sunday was a busy day with lots of goings on related to the monster (acted in a play! was very cute and has a great booming voice on mike!) and extended family. So nothing there. Monday is my early am class so that was a good excuse. Tuesday I woke up (the shoulder's behaviour notwithstanding) and decided to make myself useful by reading something I was sitting on for a while. Wednesday I shut the damn alarm off and slept happily. Which brings us to today, Thursday.

Thankfully I had the foresight to set up a meeting with the world famous ludwig for a run this morning. And that was sufficient motivation (aside from the past so many days of lolling, and the fact that my legs and hips are aching a lot because they dislike all the rest I have been handing to them) to get out and go. I was feeling supremely lazy though. I biked to the place, although I knew ludwig would run from home and so should I. I parked the bike and walked around looking bored. Finally I started off at an amble as everyone was giving me strange looks. It was miserable, that run. Thankfully I saw ludwig loom on the horizon shortly thereafter and I chatted and chatted and chatted and forgot that I was running and that my hips were hurting and my leg was acting funny. But when he said he would like to stop, I was all over it.

All in all, I finally opened the week's account, better than nothing. I hope to eke out some inspiration for something tomorrow morning. Swim? Run? Bike? Gym? Something. I think I want to take a class. Kickboxing or Krumping maybe. Find me one, people, find me one.