Farewell Dojo

If there are no dogs in heaven, then when I die I want to go where you went Dojo

As I awoke this morning, I reached out and shut the alarm cause my legs ached from the fatigue built up over several days of running and sleep deprivation. I skipped my run today and snuggled back into a deep slumber. I finally stepped out of bed and saw you panting, my dearest friend. I thought it was the stifling heat and carried you into the air-conditioned bedroom. I feared then, my Dojo, I knew something was amiss. You looked at me with doleful eyes and refused to lie down. For if you had done so, I'd have worried. You knew I'd be alarmed dear Dojo; you just sauntered out with a slow gait that was telling on how weary you were. I told Minoti to take you to the vet and as I was leaving for work, you came out to see me and say goodbye. I felt the hair on my arms stand out as a dark thought flitted across my mind. I banished it and chided myself for morbid thoughts. You came out of the bedroom to say your final goodbye to me, Dojo. The vet said, your heart slowed down with each passing beat, that the oxygen mask was shaken off by you.........and that you drifted into a blissful and peaceful sleep forever. I have not felt grief like this before Dojo. I surprised friends and family with the way I wept. I will see you on the other side and we'll be together forever. After every run I came home to you. This entire blog speaks so much about how much I loved you. I dedicate my race on Sunday to you. And when tonight is done and the dawn breaks, I will read this poem and feel happy. Farewell my friend. 

I stood by your bed last night, I came to have a peep.
I could see that you were crying. You found it hard to sleep.

I whined to you softly as you brushed away a tear,
“It’s me, I haven’t left you, I’m well, I’m fine, I’m here.”

I was close to you at breakfast, I watched you pour the tea,
You were thinking of the many times your hands reached down to me.

I was with you at the shops today. Your arms were getting sore.
I longed to take your parcels, I wish I could do more.

I was with you at my grave today, You tend it with such care.
I want to re-assure you, that I’m not lying there.

I walked with you towards the house, as you fumbled for your key.
I gently put my paw on you, I smiled and said “It’s me.”

You looked so very tired, and sank into a chair.
I tried so hard to let you know, that I was standing there.

It’s possible for me to be so near you everyday.
To say to you with certainty, “I never went away.”

You sat there very quietly, then smiled, I think you knew…
in the stillness of that evening, I was very close to you.

The day is over… I smile and watch you yawning
and say “Good-night, God bless, I’ll see you in the morning.”

And when the time is right for you to cross the brief divide,
I’ll rush across to greet you and we’ll stand, side by side.

I have so many things to show you, there is so much for you to see.
Be patient, live your journey out… then come home to be with me.

– Colleen Fitzsimmons

Running with Roshni

On new year' eve I prayed for divine assistance in my attempt to run the Mumbai Marathon (the  42 km distance) after five long years since being blighted by Leptospirosis. I'd asked Roshni to pace me; my first and most disciplined student who'd rapidly progressed from running her first half marathon to completing the gruelling 90 kms Comrades in South Africa in a span of four years. Roshni' pace suited my race plan as did her presence alongside since I still had concerns about my heart function.

The day before was exceptionally tiring with an early morning class at the Nike Run Club and then the India Running Summit as speaker on a panel. I reached home rather exhausted and lay down on the sofa with a cushion under my feet, apprehensive about what lay in store for me. Reckless as I am I poured a generous measure of Scotch to calm my anxiety and it seemed to bloody help.

For once the 3 am alarm nudged me gently and I felt a strange calm as I set about my daily ablutions before leaving for the race venue. It was teeming with runners; some lined up at the baggage counter, others greeting each other in nervous excitement and many displaying urgency  in long queues outside mobile toilets waiting to make that last pit stop. Thumping music sent sonic booms thru' a hyper-charged atmosphere.

Roshni called several times to inform that the Star Sports TV crew had lodged her right at the head of the start line. I was lost in the midst of a sea of bodies jostling each other, impatient for the race to start. Roshni was selected by Star Sports from five contenders that made a difference in the world around them. Her program Run with Roshni that seeks to reinforce the identity of the Nepali community as Indians and her bringing talented runners from Darjeeling to run in this marquee event earned her many kudos.

The race began on the dot at 5:40 with a roar from the runners and I soon saw Roshni and Premika her friend, waiting in the wings with a motorcycle escort and mounted TV crew. A Brit materialised from nowhere and ran alongside us while interviewing Roshni with a cordless mike. She was in her elements with her accented English spoken haltingly due to her exertions and her fair oriental looks, as she went LIVE on TV. Strangely at this point, runners alongside seemed to forget their race and instead nearly tripped me with their inane antics in trying to feature on TV. The interview was done in about 5 mins but the motorcycle escort was assigned to us for the entire duration of the 42 km race.

Our plan was to finish in about 5hr 15 mins but we seemed to be quite comfortable running a faster pace. The crowd refused to thin out even at the 3K mark and we had to bear with runners weaving left and right across our paths seemingly impatient to reach a finish line that they somehow forgot was a good five hours away. At one point our strides were set to the rhythm of Bollywood numbers as girls dressed like cheerleaders urged us on and at another, a group dancing Bhangra got a runner to stop and do a Balle Balle step. One runner made a sheepish attempt at humour by asking our motorcycle escort, "Oye Enfield, Kitna deti hai?". We cruised past Babul Nath and I murmured a word of caution to shorten stride as we hit the Peddar Road hill.

The first of the elite runners in the half marathon were seen blazing past in the opposite direction. The two women in tow with me shouted encouragement to a few of their own. From Haji Ali and all along the Worli seaface we saw other runners in hordes and waved out to some that we recognized. Before we turned to enter the Sealink I saw Neeta who had worked hard training for her first half marathon. Her face showed lines of fatigue and the pace seemed to be a struggle. I caused a few heads to turn as I boomed, "Neeta!!! finishing is everything!!!" A runner smiled and said, "Sir, those words will remain with her till the finish."

The trio of us glided smoothly on the Sealink, a golden sunrise greeting us against a misty skyline; the city was slowly stirring to life this Sabbath day. Our pace periodically increased and it was Roshni that often pulled the reins on me joking, "Coach, I can see your strides are getting longer, which means we are running fast." :) A gentle descent next got us to Mahim where a crowd thronged the sidelines, handing out candy, Perk bars, oranges, water, and children gleefully begging Hi-5s from us while older men jokingly poked us with, "Bhago, bhago nahi toh African jeetega!"

Past the Siddhivinayak temple at the 25K mark I gasped as a pack of about 15 elite Kenyans and Ethiopians glided past with the effortless and sinuous grace of black Stallions in slow motion; a sight that mesmerizes me every time I see it. Our pace was steady but it was shocking to see almost half the runners reduced to a walk now. Premika stopped a few times to get volunteers to spray Volini.

We turned again into the Worli seaface and did a long snaking loop wherein we could now see runners that were ahead of us. The effort was telling on most; the grim look, bowed head, drooping shoulders and feet barely coming off the ground. I saw Dr Oak struggling and barked, "Doc, you're doing good. Not far now!" He grinned and waved back. We neared the 32K mark and I braced for that dreaded feeling when the body' reserves ebb at this point and your pace can drop to an old man' shuffle.

A blazing sun burned us on the Haji Ali stretch. I called to Roshni and Premika asking, "All good?" and they grinned back with a fresh look and bright eyes that told me we were doing a super strong race this time. The most difficult part of the route, the 35K mark Pedder Road climb came up and residents encouraged us with, "Superb! Superb! You will do it". At this point the TV crew surfaced again and began televising our run and in response runners from all around crowded us, eager to somehow get their mug into the frame. I could hear their feet slapping on the asphalt as though they were wearing Scuba Diver' fins on their feet, as they huddled in a tight heap behind us, hoping the camera pans towards them

At the 38K mark the TV crew told us that we would be going LIVE and asked us to ensure we run faster! Faster?? Are you kidding me? I laughed at their ignorance that the deep set fatigue at this point in a full marathon is debilitating with an over-powering desire to stop and lay down by the wayside. Not this time though; we were on a roll and we dug a bit deep to respond with a strong stride for our viewers. A large group of  Dream Runners that were walking next to the Marine Drive flyover paused to wonder who were the celebrities that were being filmed....har har har :)))

Round the Pizzeria turn and the finish line came up soon with boards announcing 1000m, 800m and 500m to the finish spurring us into a gallop. We waved out to runner friends on the sidelines before crossing that timing mat in a state of bliss. I looked at my Garmin, elation and joy lighting up my face for the strongest marathon I'd executed. It showed 4hrs 58 mins! I crossed myself in thanksgiving to God, shuffling slowly towards the finish enclosure, misty eyed from flash backs of the last five years.

“If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant: if we did not sometimes taste adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome." ― Anne Bradstreet, The Works of Anne Bradstreet