New York New York

When AI Flight 491 finally took off after a delay of sixteen hours, I let out a sigh and leaned back in the plush seat. I hadn't slept for 35 hours and it was a blessing that in this 15 1/2 hour long flight to New York City, I'd have a chance to catch up on sleep in first class; an upgrade that was the kind courtesy of a runner friend. The tall glass of champagne chased with a Heineken, followed by prawns malabar with rice, did the trick to lull me into a 10 hr slumber.

I was on my way to the Nike Global Coaches' Summit to be part of a 105 strong contingent of coaches from all over the world. A rare honour that I'd somehow notched up with hard work in all these years, training runners and studying hard to get my certifications. My profile was just the one selected from 5 others in India. There were at least two coaches from all other cities but I was the lone ranger and at least 15 years older than the oldest coach out there. The only guy I could identify with was coach Chris Bennett who was leading the event. When in his lectures he made references to Paul McCartney and Cindy Lauper and mentioned that his favourite runner used to be Sebastian Coe, I felt a kinship with him.

The flight delay caused me to land at midnight in NYC and the taxi ride to Manhattan at that hour with a black taxi driver was not exactly comforting. The chap was a good soul though with his sing song lilt chatting me up. I didn't forget to tip him well for gently nudging me with a poignant glimpse into the travails of living a taxi driver' life in NYC. He helped get my bags together as I looked up at the swanky hotel they'd put me up in Manhattan where the charge was a whopping 350++ USD a night. The blast of rap music from the lobby with its long line of scantily clad women and men in 'Devil wears Prada' outfits, waiting to get to the night club on the roof top, caused me to wince yet smile. My casual attire purchased at Infinity Mall, Malad ensured the sleek suited bouncer discounted me as a possible customer. Welcome to Manhattan Dan!

The next six days were memorable with a dawn to dusk routine of group discussions and workouts at various places in NYC, including Central Park and Icahn Stadium. There were coaches from Australia, NZ, Japan, Taiwan, Korea, China, Malaysia, Indonesia, Singapore, Dubai, Turkey, Algeria, Egypt, Berlin, Milan, London, Rio de Janiero, Toronto and of course Boston, Portland etc; a veritable United Colours of Benetton :) The NIKE RUN CLUB in NYC has a budget that allows them to hand out Power Bars, Gatorade and large towel napkins at every workout; and there are 6 workouts in a week!

Each workout has a set of pacers with the fastest pace being 04:00 / km and the slowest being 06:15 / km. With my blunted endurance from all the health set-backs I'd endured in the last 4 yrs, it was all I could do to hide my pain even in the slowest pacing group. The last day had us doing 200s, 300s, 400s at mile pace on a track at 12 noon in blazing sun, after which we had lunch. I was aghast when coach Bennett asked us to repeat that workout at 3 pm, warning us that throwing up our lunch of Tacos on the track turf was not an option and that we could do it on the grass :) And just when I'd thought I'd survived that one, he herded us into a bus where we got off in Brooklyn to do a 7K Tempo thru' the streets of the not-so-well-off neighbourhoods....Madre Mia!!...I was hurting!

On the final day I had some spare time which I used to shop for people back home and of course to indulge myself with all the dark Ales on display at the local bar. Toned, muscled and a spring to my step from all those workouts, I got into the Uber taxi finally heading for Newark airport and the long flight back home. I played in my mind the events of the last few days and rued that I'd probably be pacing in a faster group if I were well. How fast is faster pace Dan? And who do you want to prove anything to? Well ok, maybe I didn't want the women pacers to think of me as slow :)The humility that I've been imbued with in these years, trying to stumble back to running like a beginner, has made me realise that the pure pleasure of running again is enough to make me feel whole. If we did not have slow runners, how would others consider themselves fast?.....speed is relative. Einstein said that, not me.  I decided to close my eyes in a silent prayer of thanksgiving before the on board beverages dull my senses.

“When every hope is gone, 'when helpers fail and comforts flee,' I find that help arrives somehow, from I know not where. Supplication, worship, prayer are no superstition; they are acts more real than the acts of eating, drinking, sitting or walking. It is no exaggeration to say that they alone are real, all else is unreal.” 
― Mahatma Gandhi, The Story of My Experiments With Truth