Horse with no name

It seemed an exhausting journey at the end of it all. Amit and Srinivas had discovered a new trail in the Aarey forest. Yes, believe you me, in the concrete jungle that is Bombay, we live close to a veritable treasure trove of flora and fauna. It was decided that we meet up today for our weekend saturday run and they would show us the trail.

We started out at 6am and as we hit the trail, it seemed to be a rutted track in parts with dense stones strewn around, making it difficult to stride without the risk of an ankle twisting. To be fair, in parts it was dusty with the red mud and sharp inclines that tested the strength of your quads and achilles tendon. After a while it opened out into a table top that offered a breathtaking panoramic view of the city sky line, making you want to throw up at the pigeon hole apartments and the dense concrete structures. Of course the panorama was of a green valley with the rutted trail track we had traversed and a mist hanging over it like a cloud.

The trail run was exhasuting and some of the steep inclines forced most of us to walk and proceed. It would no doubt be a beautiful route to take in the monsoon on a mild rainy day with dark clouds and a drizzle to give you that blissful sting to your face upturned to the sky, like that of a wonderstruck child. I would do that run with a song in my heart; however, today, it sapped us. The loop back to the start point was done and there was that unspoken question as to whether we would do the 30K we were scheduled to do today. The inclines had drained everyone and there was one person that bit the dust; Ashwin, who had an ankle twist.

After hydrating, we set out for the second loop and this told its own story by the time we were half way thru'; we had to stop at the Gaundevi temple and drench ourselves with water from the cooler. The return journey, thru extreme heat and humidity took its toll on most by the time we had finished the second loop. Most thru' the towel into the ring and there was just Srinivas and I, heroically wanting to finish what we started:) We set out once again and it was halfway thru' this that I became delirious with fatigue.

Srinivas too was speculating on the lunacy in not heeding the other people' decision. Every step brought wincing pain in the calves and a burn in the throat that was parched to tinder. I remembered the song by America entitled above and the words rang true in my mind; in the desert you can't remember your name. This was my state for we both had our chins buried and like brothers in arms, we knew how much suffering we were enduring. When we staggered home we gave ourselves away by the way we leaned against the car and swayed as if on the verge of collapse. I guess, if I had eaten even one of the gels that Aravindan so kindly and thoughtfully offered me (a whole bunch actually - I must repay him in kind) later, I would have been able to stave off such mind numbing fatigue. Aravindan' sister gifted him the gels and he was selfless in sharing it with me and some other friends. Running has brought to me the more beautiful facet of human nature and true friendship. And now, I must share with you the song (altered to suit) that somehow seems it was meant for the trail and my exhausting junket.

On the first part of the journey
I was looking at all the life
There were plants and birds and rocks and things
There was sand and hills and rings
The first thing I met was a fly with a buzz
And the sky with no clouds
The heat was hot and the ground was dry
But the air was full of sound

I've been through the trail on a horse with no name
It felt good to be out of the rain
In the desert you can remember your name
'Cause there ain't no one for to give you no pain
La, la ...

Farenheit

It seemed the perfect way to wakeup. My eyes popped open and I lay breathing easy, looking out at a dark sky, wondering whether it was an unearthly hour or close to dawn. I reached for my digital watch. It glowed to show 4:27am; just 3 mins short of my wake up alarm. I also felt well rested and wondered about Venkat, our RFL member' theory, about sleep waves and that waking up in the gamma phase causes disorientation and headaches: there was none of this.

I had too many things to do before Srinivas picks me up at 5am. This included the wash up ritual, my cuppa java, getting blocks of ice set in utensils, out of them and into an ice-box and putting together the paraphernalia I need for running a full marathon. Yes, we were scheduled to do our fourth marathon in as many months. The heat and humidity made it a daunting prospect.

We began our run at 5:40am and the first 28K were a breeze, in that, we had cerebral discussions on training requirements for running an Ultra-marathon (Comrades), real estate and of course the banter involving jokes from Kavin' repertoire. We had our angels in Madhumita, Pramila and Puneet; they have been selflessly manning an aid station for 4 - 5 hours; and, besides the usual ministrations of serving us electrolyte, or energy bars or handing out ice-water, they encouraged us with applause and cheering for every loop of 7K that we did. This time there were others that joined in to help us. There was Natasha, Ashwin, Allen and Kavin.

We started for the last but one loop and there was animated discussion about how we could do the same before 11am, which was 2 hrs away. Amit was like, 'Do gante mein aaram se ho sakta hai boss' and I replied, 'Amit, the game suddenly changes'. That became the catch phrase for all later; "the game changes":). We were still fine as we had done just 28K and since I am convinced that physiologically, the wall really does not disappear, I was the lone cynic. Then it happened: Srinivas' legs buckled at 30K and he announced, 'Dan, I'm plastered man. Don't know how I'm gonna finish this one!'

At 34K I felt as if lead was being pumped into the blood vessels in my legs. This was the cold and icy clutch of fatigue gripping me. A sense of impending doom made me feel desolate, as I still had a long way to go. At 35K, with one last loop to go and feeling a bit faint, I decided to tank up on electrolyte fearing cramps. It seems to have reached a part of my innards where it mattered most, as I felt a brief spell of freshness. Then at 38K, I felt my legs buckle, but the very thought that there were just 4K to go, allowed me to hang on to Amit (who felt the strain too and was also slowing down now), so that I could finish with him. When we had 400m to go, Mahesh was ahead, but turned around and came back to run alongside me saying, 'Sir, ke saath finish karna hai.' Courtesy, humility and simplicity are the terms of endearment that define these true friends of mine.

We staggered to the finish and had our angels give us a thumping welcome. My relief was ineffable but clearly evident from the way I hobbled and sat on a nearby bench:) A while later, I felt as good as new:) There was ample post run carboloading comprising a delectable selection of fruit, sandwiches, a box of turkish delights that were aptly called Harem' Delight and a sinful looking chocolate cake; the later being a celebration, both belated and advance, for Madhu', Puneet' and Supriya' birthdays. The classic finish to the whole event was the ice cold can of TUBORG and KINGFISHER DRAUGHT, thoughtfully cooled to perfection by our angels, who leave no stone unturned to spoil us:). The 4/12 was done and in the bag, but it was one hell of a run in rising mercury. I felt the faint strains Phil Collins' song in my heart;

I call out to the woman on the street
She can see I've been crying
I've got blisters on the soles of my feet
Can't walk but I'm trying

Oh think twice, it's another day for me in paradise
Oh think twice, it's just another day for you and me in paradise