Why do I run?
I was bruised and battered; I couldn’t tell
what I felt
I was unrecognizable to myself
My reflection in the window, didn’t know my own
face…
In early November, I was, hobbling
and cramping, trying to run my first international marathon at New York. On the
windswept streets of five boroughs, I could hear this song, On the Streets of
Philadelphia, by Bruce Springsteen echoing in my head.
In last few years, I have added
recreational running to my daily life. It hasn’t been a seamless integration
and has led to many significant lifestyle changes. I have been attributing
running to my mid-life-crisis (to a large extent it is true!). Most of my friends
feel that I run almost every other day and I am dying to go out and run.
Reality is far from it.
Let me rewind the clock a bit and go
back to where it all started. Not so long ago, I felt that I have been caught
in an unending spiral of incessant work, occasional socializing with the same
group of people and mind numbing cribs about the same issues. I was looking to
break away from that routine and serendipity led me to running.
I have never, ever played any sport
in my life. I tried playing Squash, Badminton, Tennis, etcetera (looked very
easy!) but I couldn’t even make it to a basic level of competence. I tried to
analyze my performance and the only logical reason I could come to was that of a
micro second gap in my eye-hand coordination. I was just that crucial split
second late. Compared to racket sports, running is quite a linear exercise. You just go out and run. You don’t need any
fancy equipment or access to special sports facilities.
So, in last few years I have done 5
full marathons including one international (New York) and countless Half
Marathons. I am still a very average runner but I think I know now – at least
that’s what I feel in last two months post NY run – what it takes to better
your time; run fast and run in an efficient manner.
Running has led to many interesting
changes. I have a social circle now where we fret about dinnertime and socializing
on weekends. Most of the time, we end up meeting on Sunday evening. My running
mates and I can talk incessantly about running injuries, carb loading, hill
run, fartlek, and interval-workouts for hours. Early morning at 6 o’clock we
behave like bunch of teenagers laughing our guts out for no reason.
On a serious note, it has led me to
think of life and running from a very different perspective. A friend of mine
recently made a profound observation about how running is not at all about
strong legs. Just like everything else in life, it starts from your head. You
need to be mentally strong and disciplined to stick to a plan for more than six
months to make any progress. You need to have a good breathing technique to
ensure that your cardio vascular system works in an efficient manner. You need
to ensure that you have strong core and back to support you when you are on the
road for more than 4 hours. Once you have done strengthening of your mind,
cardio, spine and core, legs come to play.
Another friend of mine brought in a
counter intuitive knowledge to bridge a gap between meditation and running.
Humans are born lazy. It takes us very little time to get used to comfort of
any kind. It requires discipline to push away the instant gratification. Running
forces us to abandon our comfort zone and consciously push ourselves to a
position where short-term pain will lead to a long-term benefit. At the same
time, our mind is constantly active. Meditation brings in a sense of order to
the chaos in mind. So, there is a connection between running and meditation where
there is a reward at a much later date.
Running also introduced me to a
wonderful writer, Haruoki Murakami. He wrote a fabulous book called, What I
talk about when I talk about running? From his book:
“…
running is both exercise and a metaphor. Running day after day, piling up the
races, bit by bit I raise the bar, and by clearing each level I elevate myself.
At least that's why I’ve put in the effort day after day: to raise my own
level. I am no great runner, by any means. I am at an ordinary – or perhaps
more like a mediocre – level. But that’s not the point. The point is whether or
not I improved over yesterday. In long distance running the only opponent you
have to beat is yourself the way you used to be.”
It’s a bible for every runner. For a
very long time, I read it every Saturday night before my long run on Sunday. It
is a small, thin book but every single page opens a new window to the running
and writing. Murakami brings in a monk like discipline to his running and
writing. As a reader, you can see how his two worlds are entwined with each
other. In both cases, progress is painfully slow but it is very much there.
Running is a simple, linear
ritualistic exercise. Simple repetition of one step after another can create a
space where you will confront your demons and see life in a new light. One of
my running friends introduced me to a National Geographic fellow, Paul Salopek,
a Pulitzer award winner. Paul has decided to trace the human migration by
walking for 21,000 miles over 7 years. He is a fabulous writer. His posts from his
long walks have a genteel sense of humor. Informative and full of wisdom in a
world that is hell-bent on speeding up things, Paul’s writing and his simple
act of walking brings a new clarity.
I used to listen to music during my
run earlier but now I try to hear my own voice and see things around me. Mumbai
is a crowded, dirty city. The only saving grace to Mumbai is its sea. Thanks to
my running, I have been fortunate to see Mumbai in its most glorious moments. I
try to run in every city that I visit now.
Most of the athletes strive to get
in a zone where their body merges with their sports. That must be a pinnacle of
leaving everything behind and be in a trance. I haven’t experienced such trance
in my running but I have felt some pure unbridled moments of joy and happiness
while running in monsoons. It might be messy for few but water filled shoes, totally
drenched clothes and incessant rain is something that I treasure from the core
of my being.
I hope this is just a beginning of a
long journey. Every year, much to my wife’s chagrin, I am adding some new
marathon to my bucket list. Let’s see where does it go…
