Sounds of Silence

The weekend was quite a packed schedule for me. I put in a decent long run by waking up a bit earlier than usual for me and then hurried home to wash up and scurry to office. What a life! I really wish I had saturdays off but then I can only wish:-) Anyways, I returned from work at about 2:45pm to relax with a glass of "Ouzo" and a lunch comprising fried fish. I managed to catch some "shut-eye" and planned to take Bryan out to his favorite chinese restaurant, "Mainland China".

The food at MC was very delectable and nearly authentic chinese; though, the prices are quite steep. I enjoyed two large pegs of "Old Monk" and could have purchased 2 bottles for the price they charged me:-) The drive back was relaxing yet a wee bit filled with anxiety, lest I be caught by some breathalizer wielding cops.

Next morning I rose at 4:30am to go to the "Nike Run Club" and I could hug my boy Bryan for waking up this early on a sunday morning to do a workout. It is indeed commendable for a 14 yr old to do this and gets full marks from me on this account. NRC was real good this time as there were a lot of beginners and I was able to introduce, for the first time, an extended warm-up, that everyone told me, they enjoyed. Bryan and I went to my ol' time favorite "Kayani's" and ate a nice breakfast of eggs sunny-side up, chicken frankfurters, bun-maska, Pau and irani chai.

The rest of the morning was consumed in a visit to my mother who stays with my brother in Borivali. I gave my mother a gift of the Madonna, which lit her eyes up. I caught up on Goa' gossip with my brother, while I sipped a beer. The evening was just spent lazing around and musing about the "sounds of silence" that fill my world.

In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestones
Beneath the halo of a street lamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp...

People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
No one dare
Disturb the sound of silence

Coping with changes

Ever since I opted to work with the Nike Run Club, I have been doing an increasingly complex juggling act with my workouts. Like it is always stated: you have to give something else up if you want to add something to an already tight schedule. The guy that has suffered (and I feel awful about it) is Bryan. I have stopped dropping him at the bus-stop since the last one month and poor Minoti, who sleeps the latest, gets dressed to do this chore.

Bryan is now an adolescent at 14 yrs of age and I have spent the last 11 yrs waking up and helping him get ready for school. He acts grown up now and does not absolutely need me to drop him at the bus-stop but I do feel he misses this. And so, today I ditched my workout and spent time making his favorite protein drink and dropping him on the "bullet". He felt nice about it and I could see it in his eyes. I again felt a sense of melancholy as I was consumed with nostalgia at the times I spent with him during his growing phase. I think that my repeated bouts of melancholy are due to the fact that I miss these aspects of being the father that I have been to Bryan.

I went to Aarey and rehearsed the warm-up that I have sequenced for the Nike Run Club. I was interrupted by Rajesh, who has just completed the 50K Bangalore Ultra, for some guidance on how much recovery time he should be taking. I wound up my workout with a quick round of strength and flexibility before returning home. On the way out of Aarey, I saw that one of the dogs that was bitten on its neck, had died. I drifted into a pensive mood again as I recalled my intense love for strays. I truly appreciate the efforts that Rajeshwari does to take care of them. I support the effort financially and feel nice about it. I think I will go to church today - I miss the quiet moments at "Holy Name Cathedral".

Guitar Man

I had a nice time at Bangalore with the Nike Run Club, learning a lot of things to add to my repertoire of strength and stretching routines. They'd flown me down and had me lodged in a swanky hotel, with car and driver at my disposal etc. I had a surprise opportunity to visit the Bangalore Ultra bib collection-cum-pasta lunch venue, courtesy, "Runners for Life". It was a fine afternoon meeting up with runners, some of whom I'd known for years and others that I'd known from mails exchanged. There was Bhaskar, Sunil Chainani, Rahul Verghese, Srini, Amit and others that were introduced with a "Meet danzico" :-). I was really surprised that so many runners actually read posts and remember you. I am now not able to introduce myself, to the running community, as "Daniel" anymore:-)

There was the pasta lunch which had international class to it. There were olives, salads, pickles, aloo tikkis, veg pasta, spaghetti bolognaise, chocolate mousse and a nice fruit drink. It appears that someone with real knowledge of carbo-loading had gotten the chef to prepare this lunch. I don't remember when was the last time I'd eaten so well, with as many helpings:-) Thru' all this I drifted into a reverie as I listened to "Guitar Man", a track I used to play on the guitar at IIT-B, especially since my roomie, Percy used to ask me to play it every night. I felt a touch of melancholy for no apparent reason as I heard the words.

Who draws the crowd and plays so loud, Baby it's the guitar man.
Who's gonna steal the show, you know Baby it's the guitar man,
He can make you love, he can make you cry
He will bring you down, then he'll get you high
Somethin' keeps him goin', miles and miles a day
To find another place to play.

Then he comes to town, and you see his face,
And you think you might like to take his place
Somethin' keeps him driftin' miles and miles away
Searchin' for the songs to play.

Then the lights begin to flicker and the sound is getting dim
The voice begins to falter and the crowds are getting thin
But he never seems to notice he's just got to find Another place to play,
Fade Away. Got to Play. Fade Away. Got to Play.

My beloved watch

I have this digital stop watch that I got when I realised that having a stop watch to track work outs made sense. It is now about 9 years old and I found out the other day as to how much it means to me. I was returning from the Nike Run meet last Sunday and I got a flat tyre. I am glad it was a Sunday morning with thin traffic and a lot of time on hand.

I got the spare out of the boot and went down on all fours to jack up the car and replace the flat. I must have lost my touch for being a handy man with tools cause I suddenly realised I had broken the strap of my watch. I muttered under my breath and stowed it in my pocket. I got the spare replaced and reached home in a jiffy. Bryan, my dear son, on seeing the broken strap said, "Da-da, you can use my stop watch". It was a piece I'd got for him since he too had graduated into a distance runner:-) Also, the numerals on his watch dials are a lot bigger and I don't have to squint like I do with my watch - age! (I'm rolling eyes:-))

That night, I wanted to set the alarm as usual and found to my dismay that Bryan' watch alarm seemed to malfunction. Imagine my plight when I realised that the watch thats stowed next to my pillow for comfort, assured by the certainty that I'd be woken up, was no longer there. I had a fitful night' sleep and had to wake up to a "fire-alarm" ring from a bedside clock that was a spare in the house. I grumbled that morning as I made my coffee since I was woken up rather rudely - signs of becoming an old grouch?

I went to work that day and immediately got a watch repairer to restore my watch to its pristine glory - and he did it for a mere 50 rupees:-))) There it was on my hand that evening and I set the alarm once again that night and woke up to its gentle beep. I smiled as I pressed the start button for the stop-watch before beginning my run. After all, it had tracked 14 marathons so far and I need it around for a while. I am hopeful it will last; afterall, its a Japanese "Casio". While it will keep time without losing too many seconds in the coming years, I am not certain about my own times in the marathons to come. Brace yourself Dan; you will shuffle across the finish line some time - not too soon Lord, please!

The desire to play

In every real man a child is hidden that wants to play. - Friedrich Nietzsche

I look at Bryan going out every evening, lobbing the football with its thumping "Dhup, Dhup, Dhup.." and I am transported to a time when I was in the lane. I used to do the same, arriving at 4:30pm in the hot afternoon sun, waiting for the guys to turn up for a passionate game of football. There were those frustrating moments when some SOBs used to take afternoon siestas and their moms were loathe to wake them up. I used to wonder, "How can these guys sleep when they know we have a match to play and its going to be sun-down soon??" Well, they probably did not share the same passion for football as I did.

I can understand why that game of football is so important to Bryan, even though his exams are round the corner. I know that its his release, his passion, his life! I know that if I stop him, he'd probably go crazy sitting in the house and may even lose his ability for retention and recall:-)) I am in a reverie now and I can see my exertions, my sweat, the grin as we get back and meet the girls who probably found us macho (wink); and, yes the clink of glasses at the local "cold-drinkwalla" where we pooled money for the sherbets. I remember my, now fat, friend Bamoo joking with one of the guys that never paid up, saying, "What will you drink?" and the guys goes, "I'll have a Rush" (an aerated drink in my time) and Bamoo says, "Please rush home":-)))) I am chukling now and the maid is wondering if my overseas tipple has caused me to lose my marbles:-) So much for memories. Time to pour a small one and dream a lil' more. Dojo comes trotting and curls up as he realizes my mood is mellow.

An unusual government

I was informed by an elderly gentleman at the Acropolis ruins in Athens, that the Greek Government cares for its strays. That answered my question about the number of dogs that I saw on the streets of Athens. All of them would wag their tails and turn over on to their back for a tickle in the belly:-) I noticed that the people that walked by were careful not to step on them. The most stiring sight of all was a poor old man that shared his food with one of the strays. The dog seemed to jump up and paw him, as if thanking and acknowledging him for his unselfishness. The man was patiently tearing open, what seemed like a quiche, and offering the contents for the dog. I wish every government would learn to be so kind hearted to animals.

Istanbul Calling

The Istanbul Marathon had all of 7000 runners in the marathon and it began without too much fan-fare. The run begins with crossing the Bosphorus which is so very breath-taking in its vast expanse of a calm but mighty river and tiny houses nestling on its banks. There are up-hills for the first 5K during which I kept a watch on my heart rate. There were no km markers and I was lost as to what pace I was running. I finally saw a km marker a while later and it said “7.5 kms”. I checked my watch and realized I was too fast. From here on there were km markers every 2.5K and I reached 10K in 54:16 – too fast Dan! I found my RPE was just about 6 and there was no need to panic. I then decided that I’d see how things turn out if I aimed for sub 4 hrs. I had no target time in mind when I came for this marathon and decided I’d play this one by ear. I had a horrendous travel schedule during my two week taper and I had one of the most unconventional tapers – with no runs for 7 continuous days, I ran a 29K on the Sunday before the race!

The rest of the course was flat and I ran strong enough to predict a 3:54 – if I could hold, what I think was a scorching and suicidal pace. I was running alongside side an elderly woman who was dragging her feet with a rustling noise and was surprisingly swift, despite it. I reached the half marathon mark in 1:57:26 – very impressive Dan! As you can see, if I double it, I’d get a 3:55; a slow down of only 1 min.

At the 29K mark, as we ran across the chip mats, a Parisian asked the volunteer as to what km point it was and the guy replied, “25 kms”. I laughed and told the Parisian that the guy didn’t know what he was talking about. The Parisian was surprised that I had traveled all the way from India for this marathon. He seemed to be running strong and surged ahead with a, “I wish you good luck”.

The first realization that the pace was taking its toll came at the 30K mark which I reached in 2:49 instead of 2:45. I was hitting the “wall” now because I reached 32.5K in 3:04 – the first sign that a sub 4 hr finish was slipping from my hands. It would be a tall order to do the balance 9.7K in 55 mins; not with my condition. My breath was raspy now and my calves screamed for me to slow down. Well slow down, I did because I was now doing 5:55/km as I reached 37.5kms in 3:35. It was depressing at this juncture to see scores of runners reduced to a walk. It was tempting indeed to join them because I was now wheezing and using my arms to drive my pace. The pain in my legs made me wince and screw up my eyes. Every runner alongside could be heard gasping for breath. We were still 4K away from the finish; an eternity at this juncture in the race.

The Parisian was now way ahead and I rued about the fact that this part of the race was a telling story indeed – about the ones that grooved and those (like me) that gasped. The 39K mark made me look up in consternation as I saw a huge climb and runners were now reduced to a shuffle. I was aware, from the elevation chart that this climb would do me in; however, it was enough to shift the balance and make 90% of the runners walk. I shuffled on with my chin buried into my chest and saw that my chances of even a 4:02 were evaporating. I trudged up the unending climb and cursed the organizers for this cruel joke. I reached a sign that said “500m to the finish” and I found a new strength to my stride. I saw Monsoon and Bryan and waved out; I’d not failed them after all. I crossed the finish line in 4:07:23. A memorable race in the lessons it taught me. I limped and hobbled around reveling in the aches that seized my limbs. They were nothing compared to the challenge I’d endured in the last 7K. It was time for some beers, the Turkish aperitif “Raki” that I’d taken a predilection for and a delectable spread of meats with pita bread. Well, I wouldn’t mind a Turkish bath followed by a look see at some belly dance:-)

The man who can drive himself further once the effort gets painful is the man who will win. - Sir Roger Bannister