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
― Mahatma Gandhi, The Story of My Experiments With Truth
