I awoke to a dark sultry dawn and sat hunched on the side of the bed. I looked out at the sky and a silvery moon seemed to smile, reclining on a carpet of stars. I smiled back as if I acknowledged its tacit encouragement for my longest run since I took ill. The schedule, that I'd drawn up to script my recovery, showed a two hour run but I'd decided I'd slug this one out for 3 hrs. I had good ol' Amit for company as he'd promised to run alongside. I thought it was time I'd upped the ante on my training rather than submit to my flagging strength. Better to resist like a man than conform like a slave, Dan!
It was one of those days when a whole lot more runners turn up at Aarey. I accomplished my ritual of feeding the strays that lunged impatiently at the biscuits thrown to them. After this, greetings hailed and water bottles in tow, we set off. I strode with a pack that seemed to do a pace that was more than I would be able to handle. Thankfully, the pack broke off into two, with the slower one comprising Amit, Rohit and me. The first loop of 12.45K was accomplished with a few jokes and trivial banter on the recent attack by a Leopard that had sprung on the back of a park official somewhere in India. Amit remarked that his wife warned him that a similar fate would befall him soon at Aarey; her way of getting him to spend a little more quality time at home instead of indulging in a useless and enervating pastime like running:)
Back at our start point, I stopped to drink up in an effort to stave off dehydration, that I felt was setting in. I felt a wave of exhaustion hit me briefly warning me that the second loop may well be my undoing. The decision was made though, and I set off with Amit, a wee bit at a shuffle this time. We cruised down the Aarey hill when it became clear that this one was going to be tough. Not only was there no hint of rain, but the sun peeked briefly, as if mocking our wager on the second loop. Amit was listening keenly, I could see, to my breath coming on as a gentle wheez, an indication of my distress. He endeared himself to me even more when he whispered, 'Dan, let me know when we should walk'. I nodded silently, unable to speak as hyperventilation prevented me.
At the 17K mark, I relented to the soft cry of 'slow down Dan', in my subconscious. Instinctively, as if I'd spoken to him, Amit slowed to a walk. I realised then that it was my muttered 'shucks' exhaled in resignation, that was the signal for him to do so. We recovered and picked pace again to complete another 5K before we arrived at the hill, looming impossibly before me. I walked up the hill, completely spent with Amit for company, the heat sapping us completely. The last 1.5K brought excitement and I smiled as Amit, having completed his brotherly chore of hand holding me within pissing distance of home, set off at a gallop. It was then that I saw his larger sacrifice of pulling back the reins just for me. I speeded up the last 400m to reach our start point and sank to my knees to cross myself and thank the good lord for helping me accomplish this feat. It was the 23rd of August, a saturday, exactly three months since this very day when I'd touched the hand of God and he'd said, 'No Dan, its not your time now'. I rose to Hi-5 Amit and a few runners that were waiting for me to finish. The feeling was overwhelming as I remembered the words from "America".
When the last eagle flies over the last crumbling mountain
And the last lion roars at the last dusty fountain
In the shadow of the forest though she may be old and worn
They will stare unbelieving at the last unicorn
When the first breath of winter through the flowers is icing
And you look to the north and a pale moon is rising
And it seems like all is dying and would leave the world to mourn
In the distance hear the laughter of the last unicorn
I'm alive, I'm alive
It was one of those days when a whole lot more runners turn up at Aarey. I accomplished my ritual of feeding the strays that lunged impatiently at the biscuits thrown to them. After this, greetings hailed and water bottles in tow, we set off. I strode with a pack that seemed to do a pace that was more than I would be able to handle. Thankfully, the pack broke off into two, with the slower one comprising Amit, Rohit and me. The first loop of 12.45K was accomplished with a few jokes and trivial banter on the recent attack by a Leopard that had sprung on the back of a park official somewhere in India. Amit remarked that his wife warned him that a similar fate would befall him soon at Aarey; her way of getting him to spend a little more quality time at home instead of indulging in a useless and enervating pastime like running:)
Back at our start point, I stopped to drink up in an effort to stave off dehydration, that I felt was setting in. I felt a wave of exhaustion hit me briefly warning me that the second loop may well be my undoing. The decision was made though, and I set off with Amit, a wee bit at a shuffle this time. We cruised down the Aarey hill when it became clear that this one was going to be tough. Not only was there no hint of rain, but the sun peeked briefly, as if mocking our wager on the second loop. Amit was listening keenly, I could see, to my breath coming on as a gentle wheez, an indication of my distress. He endeared himself to me even more when he whispered, 'Dan, let me know when we should walk'. I nodded silently, unable to speak as hyperventilation prevented me.
At the 17K mark, I relented to the soft cry of 'slow down Dan', in my subconscious. Instinctively, as if I'd spoken to him, Amit slowed to a walk. I realised then that it was my muttered 'shucks' exhaled in resignation, that was the signal for him to do so. We recovered and picked pace again to complete another 5K before we arrived at the hill, looming impossibly before me. I walked up the hill, completely spent with Amit for company, the heat sapping us completely. The last 1.5K brought excitement and I smiled as Amit, having completed his brotherly chore of hand holding me within pissing distance of home, set off at a gallop. It was then that I saw his larger sacrifice of pulling back the reins just for me. I speeded up the last 400m to reach our start point and sank to my knees to cross myself and thank the good lord for helping me accomplish this feat. It was the 23rd of August, a saturday, exactly three months since this very day when I'd touched the hand of God and he'd said, 'No Dan, its not your time now'. I rose to Hi-5 Amit and a few runners that were waiting for me to finish. The feeling was overwhelming as I remembered the words from "America".
When the last eagle flies over the last crumbling mountain
And the last lion roars at the last dusty fountain
In the shadow of the forest though she may be old and worn
They will stare unbelieving at the last unicorn
When the first breath of winter through the flowers is icing
And you look to the north and a pale moon is rising
And it seems like all is dying and would leave the world to mourn
In the distance hear the laughter of the last unicorn
I'm alive, I'm alive
