The Kaveri Trail Marathon is round the corner and although I now need, as a seasoned marathoner, a taper of 2 weeks, I am still contemplating starting my taper 3 weeks before. The "Nirvana" run was a blast on the endurance front and the crowd of runners showed how much the group has grown over the last one year. I somehow miss my solitary long runs though.
I am in much better shape now, both physically and mentally. It has been a stressful two weeks. I am glad its behind me now and I can handle anything that' thrown at me now. The bright spots were the meetups with Bamoo and Russell. Nothing like a few tipples with good ol' buddies from your youth. There is the mail from Val and Mal urging that we do some pubs but then they too agree that the loud music gets to you after a while. Well, I cannot handle loud pubs and I don't understand the people that go there. I'd rather that the music was a soft jazz piano playing the blues.
After KTM, which I will run as a long run rather than race, there will be the Ultra in November and the Nike Run Club (NRC) too will begin. I guess I will to give a miss to the runs that the group plans in Amby Valley or elsewhere. I think it is better to mingle once in a while. Besides, I have to plan a trip to Mahabaleshwar with the family including Dojo. This will mean I have to give NRC a few misses but then I'd rather miss these for the family than for the runs. I have had my fill of fraternizing and its better that way. I have taken a break from work as I am feeling a little under the weather and listening to Bob Dylan seems like deja vu and is also making me feel good;
How many years can a mountain exist,
before it is washed to the sea?
How many years can some people exist,
before they're allowed to be free?
And how many times can a man turn his head,
and pretend that he just doesn't see?
The answer my friend is blowing in the wind,
the answer is blowing in the wind.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Monday, August 30, 2010
Nirvana run for the soul
It is important for me to draw parallels with a quote that defines our collective experience on Sunday (29th August); an august gathering (though we qualify for this adjective only by virtue of inhabiting a Masonic lodge) of passionate runners of varying ability, bound together by a common thread of “aim for the sky and you will at least land among the stars”.
The quote:
"It's elevating and humbling at the same time. Running along a beach at sunrise with no other footprints in the sand, you realize the vastness of creation, your own insignificant space in the plan, how tiny you really are, your own creatureliness and how much you owe to the supreme body, the God that brought all this beauty and harmony into being."
- Sister Marion Irvine, 2:51 PR and 1984 U.S. Olympic Marathon Trials qualifier
The run was conceptualised, a recce led by Ashok, to draw up feasibility and logistics, and to put in km markers, and a detailed plan for transport, accommodation, meals, water-stations and safety, drawn up a with meticulous fervour that only a die-hard, selfless runner like Venkat can.
The bulk of our runners arrived the previous evening to a damp and dusky sky and a Spartan but clean abode reminiscent of a Scottish dwelling, complete with red-brick walls and a fire place. There were introductions followed by the usual banter and then an enthralling screening of the movie, “The Boston Marathon”. It left everyone with hope in their hearts – there were many in our midst aspiring to graduate to the full marathon; a daunting prospect. It portrayed people from regular walks of sedentary life, suddenly but surely elevated to the shocking realization that they had finished a marathon. The tears of joy and embraces that the worst was over and the achievement securing their positions, admittedly in the elite list of those that crossed the finish line in a 26 mile foot race, left us all determined to give our all to the long run that is the single most important ingredient in our training mix for the full monty.
A sumptuous dinner of chicken curry, vegetable, rice, bread, salad and bananas and we wound down for the day. Pre-dawn alarms rang with varying intensity, stirring everyone from their fitful sleep and even though I tried snuggling in bed, the sounds of ablution, murmurs of restive runners, tinkle of ceramic ware made me shrug of the quilt in resignation. Refreshed with a morning cuppa, we all started out in a drizzle from our start point. Runners like Raj, Allen, Kavin, Dr Oak and others that had set out that morning from Mumbai, started out a while later. The first 4Kms being a steep and winding slope hit our runners the hardest and such pre-warm-up palpitations brought on a fearful foreboding about their fate for the rest of the way. But it all turned out to be superlative.
Runners passed each other on the return leg cheering each other despite contending with their own exhaustion. Each runner emerged intermittently from a glorious medley of rolling wispy clouds, cool gushes of wind, flashes of green landscape, dark woods and the rain coming down in steel grey lances. The grey heavens pregnant with boundless rain and the black undulating asphalt disappearing into the mist brought an exciting mystery about running into the realms of the unknown – a long run is just that. Each foot strike caused a splatter from tiny puddles even as water run-off over the lips brought the taste of salt from your sweat. As we ate up mile after mile, each slap on asphalt brought pain that rose through the arch, ankles and shins. The water, bananas, Lucozade and jam sandwiches handed out by angels such as Malini, Vighnesh and Venkat’ chauffeur (I reserve my deepest respect for these selfless non-runners that stood hours in the rain and chill to hand out water to even the last runner) were received with gratitude by exhausted runners, running on pure mental strength. Along the way there were limps from low electrolyte cramps, sprained ankles, glycogen depletion, ITBS and plain exhaustion. But this carnival of pain dissipated in the chilling rain; in fact, it distilled each runner to his essence.
Each runner crossed the defined finish line to applause and high-fives and embraces. Steaming vada-pavs were handed out, from a wayside eatery to grateful hands and beaming smiles. All had come home, revelling in the deep satisfaction that - the long run puts the tiger in the cat. Several returned to the lodge to a breakfast of eggs and Poha and to plain put up their legs. Others had a longing to return home and relax. Monsoon and Bryan paid me a pleasant surprise by driving down to cheer me on but were hampered by a traffic jam in the Ghats. As I relaxed in the car, on the way back, sipping from my hip-flask, I mused as to how well our runners had trained this year to keep their endurance on a razor’ edge in preparation for SCMM, hitherto not experienced by many of them. As the buzz in my head made my eyelids droopy, I remembered another quote;
"There are people who have no bodies, only heads. And many athletes have no heads, only bodies. A champion is a man who has trained his body and his mind; who has learned to conquer pain for his own purposes. A great athlete is at peace with himself and at peace with the world; he has fulfilled himself. He envies nobody. - Coach Sam Dee - The Olympian
The quote:
"It's elevating and humbling at the same time. Running along a beach at sunrise with no other footprints in the sand, you realize the vastness of creation, your own insignificant space in the plan, how tiny you really are, your own creatureliness and how much you owe to the supreme body, the God that brought all this beauty and harmony into being."
- Sister Marion Irvine, 2:51 PR and 1984 U.S. Olympic Marathon Trials qualifier
The run was conceptualised, a recce led by Ashok, to draw up feasibility and logistics, and to put in km markers, and a detailed plan for transport, accommodation, meals, water-stations and safety, drawn up a with meticulous fervour that only a die-hard, selfless runner like Venkat can.
The bulk of our runners arrived the previous evening to a damp and dusky sky and a Spartan but clean abode reminiscent of a Scottish dwelling, complete with red-brick walls and a fire place. There were introductions followed by the usual banter and then an enthralling screening of the movie, “The Boston Marathon”. It left everyone with hope in their hearts – there were many in our midst aspiring to graduate to the full marathon; a daunting prospect. It portrayed people from regular walks of sedentary life, suddenly but surely elevated to the shocking realization that they had finished a marathon. The tears of joy and embraces that the worst was over and the achievement securing their positions, admittedly in the elite list of those that crossed the finish line in a 26 mile foot race, left us all determined to give our all to the long run that is the single most important ingredient in our training mix for the full monty.
A sumptuous dinner of chicken curry, vegetable, rice, bread, salad and bananas and we wound down for the day. Pre-dawn alarms rang with varying intensity, stirring everyone from their fitful sleep and even though I tried snuggling in bed, the sounds of ablution, murmurs of restive runners, tinkle of ceramic ware made me shrug of the quilt in resignation. Refreshed with a morning cuppa, we all started out in a drizzle from our start point. Runners like Raj, Allen, Kavin, Dr Oak and others that had set out that morning from Mumbai, started out a while later. The first 4Kms being a steep and winding slope hit our runners the hardest and such pre-warm-up palpitations brought on a fearful foreboding about their fate for the rest of the way. But it all turned out to be superlative.
Runners passed each other on the return leg cheering each other despite contending with their own exhaustion. Each runner emerged intermittently from a glorious medley of rolling wispy clouds, cool gushes of wind, flashes of green landscape, dark woods and the rain coming down in steel grey lances. The grey heavens pregnant with boundless rain and the black undulating asphalt disappearing into the mist brought an exciting mystery about running into the realms of the unknown – a long run is just that. Each foot strike caused a splatter from tiny puddles even as water run-off over the lips brought the taste of salt from your sweat. As we ate up mile after mile, each slap on asphalt brought pain that rose through the arch, ankles and shins. The water, bananas, Lucozade and jam sandwiches handed out by angels such as Malini, Vighnesh and Venkat’ chauffeur (I reserve my deepest respect for these selfless non-runners that stood hours in the rain and chill to hand out water to even the last runner) were received with gratitude by exhausted runners, running on pure mental strength. Along the way there were limps from low electrolyte cramps, sprained ankles, glycogen depletion, ITBS and plain exhaustion. But this carnival of pain dissipated in the chilling rain; in fact, it distilled each runner to his essence.
Each runner crossed the defined finish line to applause and high-fives and embraces. Steaming vada-pavs were handed out, from a wayside eatery to grateful hands and beaming smiles. All had come home, revelling in the deep satisfaction that - the long run puts the tiger in the cat. Several returned to the lodge to a breakfast of eggs and Poha and to plain put up their legs. Others had a longing to return home and relax. Monsoon and Bryan paid me a pleasant surprise by driving down to cheer me on but were hampered by a traffic jam in the Ghats. As I relaxed in the car, on the way back, sipping from my hip-flask, I mused as to how well our runners had trained this year to keep their endurance on a razor’ edge in preparation for SCMM, hitherto not experienced by many of them. As the buzz in my head made my eyelids droopy, I remembered another quote;
"There are people who have no bodies, only heads. And many athletes have no heads, only bodies. A champion is a man who has trained his body and his mind; who has learned to conquer pain for his own purposes. A great athlete is at peace with himself and at peace with the world; he has fulfilled himself. He envies nobody. - Coach Sam Dee - The Olympian
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