The Run

It was 3pm, the final mail regarding ‘the Run’ had just popped up. Like any other major event in the company, there was a mail from the Admin stating bus timings for pick up from Kancheepuram to Chennai. Boarding at 1.30 AM! I pitied the ones who would board the bus at 1.30 am to start the run around 5.30 am. The Chennai Marathon was the most talked about event at office for the past few months. Training had started almost four months earlier. The trainer could easily win the award for ‘the most pronounced female name’ of the quarter, thanks to my good friend whose day would never pass by without once thinking of the trainer. The Marathon was close to my heart (or rather head!), not because I was passionate about running, but because I was releasing the PRs.

I felt proud to be part of an organization that took health and fitness so seriously as to sponsor the registration fees, training for runners and arranging transportation. The energy and spirit of the health freaks at office was inspiring. But the most fascinating thing I noticed was the visible energy among the people in their forties who had run previous Marathons and that was spreading to the others like an epidemic. I was awestruck when I heard our directors in their 60s never miss the run. They remind me that age is just a number for the healthy minded.

It was the day before the D day. I offered Teja a lift, and all along the 15 km drive, he enlightened me about his Marathon experience. His excitement was infectious. The Marathon kit in the back seat was equally anxious as the runners. Teja explained the plans, Suyog would take a cab at 5 and pick the rest enroute to reach just on time. Going to bed at 8 pm would be a good idea to start afresh and keep the energy levels peaking. He spoke about his previous run and set my spirits high.

The alarm beeped at 4.30 am, how I wished I could curl up and cuddle my little one. But no, this was not the time, I had miles to run before going back to sleep. I grabbed the Marathon T-shirt and my running shoes and was all set. I opened the balcony door, and felt the chill air. This was going to be my first Big Run; the last time I ran was in Dubai a couple of months after a knee surgery, where the physiotherapist had advised me a month of running to get my ligaments back in tone. Ever since, it has been only the small runs behind my four-year-old. We reached the venue just in time as planned. It was a pleasure to watch the sea of people pouring into the ocean of crowd already gathered. I could see familiar faces all dressed up in similar attires and wearing their proud beaming smiles. This was undeniably one of those Wow moments of life. Should I have opted for the 21km rather I wondered? Maybe next time!

It all began like a dream, and just as I was about to reach the finishing line, I felt a strong punch on my left cheek. It hurt badly; but the punch was a familiar one. I turned to look at the one who dared to stop my run; but she was too busy sleeping. Alas! it was all a dream. I rubbed my jaw and realized the punch was getting stronger these days. It was high time I got an armour to protect me from the bedtime punches.      

I turned to the other side and tried to recall the details of the dream. How I wish I had yielded to my friend’s request and registered myself for the run, rather than using my Karate Kid as an excuse for skipping the practice sessions.

I made up my mind, the Marathon was definitely going to be the next entry on my Bucket list.

  

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