Rebooted...

Most part of this year I have stuck to the convenience of Facebook posting. I however realize it is better to keep the blog going for better record management. FB is best for photos and one-liners. 

So, a disclaimer. If you have been regularly following my FB posts, the events recorded here from 2016 might be repeat cast. Nevertheless, I hope the musings have stood/will stand the test of time and remain readable even now. 

The other side of Thirty!

Disclaimer: The title of this post is not intended to bluff my age. You, my friends, already know that I look much younger than my profile picture.

Last week, on a whim, I registered for the Bangalore Ultra 50 KM to be run in November. The distance is about 8 KMs more than I have ever run in my life. I walked 100 KM at Oxfam last year in January but then walking is much tougher. Don’t believe me? Try walking for 12 hours at a stretch in a baking Bangalore sun, and you shall know.

Back to the run. I had previously successfully run 42 KM at the Bangalore marathon in Oct 2014 with a not-so-impressive-timing of 5 hours. My second attempt at the full marathon at the SCMM in January 2015, where I was hoping to improve my timing, was a disaster.

At the time I had reinitiated into running about 6 weeks before the SCMM, just after concluding all the rituals post my father’s untimely demise. Obviously, I disregarded the “experts’ advice” of gradually phasing into the running cycle and straight away attempted to go past 10 KM. At around 8 KM a seething pain went up from my right knee to the hip. That was the end of the run, which I discovered later consulting with Dr. Gladson was caused due to stiffness on Illiotibial band, popularly called ‘ITB issue’.

Despite the ITB setback, I was keen to run the SCMM. I went into hyper stretching mode recommended by Dr. Gladson virtually every time I had an opportunity to do so, in office or at home. The situation was made further challenging due to my constant travels to Australia. Come the running weekend, I flew directly from Sydney to Mumbai to run the SCMM. About 2 weeks prior to the event, my body had started giving encouraging signs. Even though I did not run much through the recovery period, the stretches were getting better and the body seemed increasingly flexible. Or, so I had hoped!

On the day of the race, the hope held well till 23 KM. And then ITB resurfaced. I carried on gingerly for another 3-4 KM and somewhere around 27 KM I was barely able to walk. Past 28 KM sign, I was walking on my left leg and the right leg barely supporting the body. And that was the end of it – SCMM 2015.

So, this morning as I sneaked out of the home, it was as much a test of my legs to venture beyond where they hadn’t been in the last 2 years as well as overcome the mental block set since the ITB issue surfaced.

As it turned out, I could go beyond the planned 30 KM. The first 10 KM was done and dusted in 58 mins, the next 10 KM in 60 mins, and the next 10 KM in 62 mins. Fortunately, no sign of ITB, and I am happily moving on my two feet and about to take the folks out for dinner.

I have a renewed hope for Bangalore Ultra!!! 5 weeks to GO!

Double Take

Hyderabad Sept. 17/18 - Attempting back-to-back HM

An idle mind is devil’s workshop.

The week of Sept. 12 saw heavy rains in Hyderabad. Thus, my morning run regime got disrupted. I tried treadmill, elliptical and other gym equipment but nothing bought me the satisfaction as road running does.

With time on hand, I started reviewing the running stats on my Garmin Connect. This year, so far, I have accumulated 813 KMs of running under my shoes. The daily average for the year hovers around 3.2 KM /per day and the last 4-week average was even better at 4.6 KM /day.

Looking at the statistics started a series of thoughts in the devil’s workshop.

All the consistency looks good, but have I compromised endurance for consistency? Can my body sustain and go beyond the daily average running?

I had hit my PB (1h 58m) a few weeks ago on a tough course @ Hyd Half Marathon. What if I were to repeat the same or similar elevation course back-to-back over 24 hours? Can I even go the distance? If so, will Day 2 be better than Day 1?

I feared hitting the wall on Day 2 before crossing the imaginary finish line. Who will cave in first – the body or the mind? Will it be a sprained ankle, an over strung hamstring, a painful knee, screaming gluts or stiff shoulders? Or, will the mind give up before the body itself? May be the sheer boredom of running the same course at the same time over two days will freeze the mind!

This weekend, I set out to seek answers to these questions.

In the quest to keep variables to minimum, aside from the same start time and the course, I decide to munch the same stuff both days before the run. It was going to be Grainny’s Granola Bar (Manas these are good) and 6 raw almonds. In addition, I would carry 500ml water in a running flask.

The weather remained the only variable, the uncontrollable variable.

On Day 1 (Saturday), I woke up to overcast skies with no rain or prediction of rains till mid-morning. By the time I was ready to start, laced up in Adidas Boston Boost and GPS-ready on Garmin VivoActive, rain gods had showed up with a light drizzle.

Bad omen?

Here I was, about to attempt two days of consecutive HM and it already looked like a false start without taking a single step. Going back home wasn’t an option anyway as I had slid the key back below the door after carefully locking the main entrance door. Going to Gym was an option but the dreadful memory of boring Gym machines came rushing back.

I decided to make a start, with a promise to self that I would turn back if the drizzle intensified into a downpour as it had been through the week.

The route was familiar – wind up hill for first 500 meters, and then go down below the ORR flyover. After that it was going to be up up and uphill through Microsoft campus and ISB, and then a bit of a breather till the inclined stretch to Gachibowli stadium, and back the same route. In total, it would be 170 meters elevation gain over 21.09 KMs.

The drizzle stayed with me for the most part of the run, rising in intensity a few times. However, never forceful enough to seduce me to give up and turn back home.

Aside being thoroughly drenched by the time I finished in 2h 6m, the run itself turned out to be quite uneventful. No niggles or pains surfaced in the lower body, and legs post the run felt strong enough for a few squats. The shoulder had stiffened up a bit but nothing to hold me back for the Saturday chores.

We enjoyed Musician’s day at Kabir’s school and later my evening stretched in to late night as I decided impromptu to go watch the movie Pink. I finally shut down at 1130pm, anxious about Day 2.

Sunday morning, today, the cloud cover seemed a tad less thicker than Day 1. Plenty of breeze and low probability of rains motivated me to get out there quickly. The run started around the same time as Day 1.

Day 2 wasn’t going to be easy especially in sections of hills that have gradients of 3.5-4.0%. By the time I was scaling the first hill my body had already warmed up nicely and GPS showed KM 4.

Though it felt onerous compared to the previous day, I was still holding on to my regular pace. Things though started looking gloomy around the 10 KM mark near Gachibowli stadium. I felt a bit twitchy around the knees, and the shoulders were beginning to get stiff much ahead of 15 KM I had experienced on the previous day. I still had Microsoft Hills on the turnaround to deal with.

I think some long-distance runners like to run in groups to chat around and divert attention from the pain. I like to run alone – no music, no pacers. I take my mind off the pain by thinking of the next 300-400m of the road. Myopia tends to work for me during the long runs – break it into small segments and keep the stride going.

By the time I was under the ORR turning onto the last two major uphill sections, the Sun was beginning to break through the clouds. This was KM 18 and the twitchy knee issue was gone, though the soreness around the shoulders continued to build up. I had tried relaxing the shoulders by letting my arms hang straight for a few paces and did Gomukhasana on the move to restrict the swing. This gave some instant relief before it got hurting again.

Once the distance starts getting closer to 19 KM mark (for a HM) the mind takes over the legs and the rest of the body. Almost as if saying that “it’s a matter of a few minutes now, not the distance”.

And invariably the mind tricks the body to keep it moving!

I closed the Day 2 HM @ 2h 6m - the same time it took me on Day 1, with a fraction of pace deterioration by 0.01 min / km.

Post-run niggles look slightly higher than Day 1, though just about. With a packed agenda, this afternoon, it wasn’t until now – at the time of writing this piece – that I had a chance to sit down.

For the rest of the evening I will let my body and mind relax with some soulful music and a glass of Auchentoshan scotch, till the devil’s workshop opens again.

Will finds the Way

Olympics Rio 2016 are on. 

Last week I met Mr. Sai Baba, who runs an NGO called Sports Coaching Foundation, along with some other corporate teams. With Indian Shuttlers on the court now @ Rio, the discussion veered towards the state of sports infrastructure in India. This took me back to school time when I was growing up in Delhi.

We, a bunch 6-7 teens in the locality, were perpetually under served by the sporting infrastructure and had limited options to play, especially during the moronic summer holidays. Badminton was one of the popular options and a lot of kids would end up occupying the roads chalked up as court. But that wouldn't always work thanks to ongoing traffic and lack of fully functional street lights if one wanted to take advantage of the cool summer breeze.

I don't recall how it happened but we figured out an alternative solution around the infrastructure issue. I suspect the phrase "PPP Model" wasn't coined then but that's what it turned out to be in some ways.

Delhi during late 80's/early 90's had lots of open spaces and plots awaiting a monstrous multi-story pack to be built. The civic sense those days was no different than today. Open plots were well leveraged by people to either toss-in a bag full of garbage or utilize these dark spaces for shady activities. Invariably such open plots existed between two constructed homes, much to the chagrin of inhabitants of these homes.

We figured that most plot were 20 ft x 50 ft or around that dimension - a reasonably good fit (slightly tight on the breadth) to put together a badminton court. 

We, as a private enterprise interested in the available public space, would strike a deal with house occupants on either side of the shabby plot. We would pool in our pocket money to clean up the rubbish from the plot, and in return the occupants would ensure uninterrupted power supply for a couple of hours every evening. It was a win-win for both the parties. 

If there was a good looking neighbor around the court you can rest assure that smashes flew thick and fast.

Looking around now, I see there are no more open plots available and the sporting infrastructure hasn't kept pace. I wonder how kids in these localities keep themselves occupied now - hope not on Playstations and X-boxes. Otherwise, we can only hope and pray for sportsmen worthy of competing on international stage.

Chak De, Indiaaa!

Musing on Olympics 2016. 

Summer olympics spectacle allows viewers to check into sports that haven't got commercialized and are rarely on our radars- Javelin, Gymnastics, Weight lifting and others.

Back in the school days, it wasn't uncommon to find Shot put, Javelin arrow, Discus in the unimaginatively titled 'Sports Room'. 

During annual sporting events Hockey was played with as much regularity as the Cricket. Gymnastics was always a part of the track and field events. And so were some of the other Olympic-bound sports. 

It's another matter I wasn't particularly sporty back then and closest I came was to get into trials for the school Hockey team. The team eventually folded in a couple of years though.

Back to the present, I haven't been into the sports room of any school these days but given the exposure and demand from parents and kids, I am certain that the odds of finding a Javelins arrow or a shot put in our schools is next to an asteroid missing Mother Earth. 

Obviously therefore creating champions in any Olympic event starts with a very low probability. Add to this internal mis-management of funds and infrastructure (I didn't say lack of it), limited coaching talent and factional politics, the medal winning probability waters down to an asteroid actually wiping our planet.

Regardless of my cynical belief, the Oly narrative in the Indian media is jubilant. Each year the contingent is being picked on merit, as not much of foul play has been reported. There is a hope of medals, and not just participation and a foreign trip. All good.

I hope we get to see some cheerful images of Indian sportsmen and women winning against odds or defying the world. If not, like me, you can always dust up the archives to indulge in "Chak De India" or the latest money spinner "Sultan".