Thursday, November 17, 2011

Blue Winter

The faint glow of dawn
A crisp nip in the air
Glistening dew covers the earth
It is winter

I woke up from a soothing dream
An angel whispered "Please....continue your dream"
Will this be a long winter?
I hope not; I'm aching for summer already

Mon - 10K time trial! No! It should be a 21K time trial! Adjust the long run for 'training load'! Is the race plan right? Will he bonk? Is she jaded from over-training? Will she survive the distance?

A maelstrom of training schedules clutter my dream and flit across my mind like a ticker tape in a news channel on TV. A dream in which I run the SCMM strong; flanked by a fleet of smiling angels. I know nothing can go wrong. From the swirling mist comes a clutch of fear and I drift up from the calm and dark bottom of a lake to a restless surface. I lie in bed, staring in the dark. Did I skip a beat? Did my heart race? Is it because I fear being left in the lurch.....insecure? Is it because my faith is shattered?.....and I'm running scared and wild? Or, is it that trust is a utopian value? Will the Goan adage of 'when the patient is cured, the doctor can go to hell', ring true?

I realize I am in Guntur, on tour. I make out the dim outline of the spacious suite; a luxury affordable in the hinterland of South India. It is 3am and I am unable to sleep. I brood about the past few days. The Bangalore Ultra just went by and the excitement of completing a race, personal bests and podium finishes fills the air. Eulogies and approbation rant the air. Animated but foolhardy discussions on speed and distance. Pictures of beaming smiles and stoic resolve. Some making a statement. High fives and welcome hugs. They elicit a cynical smile on my countenance as I ponder the vanity amongst runners. I shoved aside the sheets and padded to the bathroom. I turned on the shower and lounged in the tub to soak myself in the warm spray, willing the flurry of troubling thoughts to subside.

Judgments, value judgments concerning life, for or against, can in the last resort never be true: they possess value only as symptoms, they come into consideration only as symptoms - in themselves such judgments are stupidities.
Friedrich Nietzsche