This motley crew - A love letter

A boisterous gang got together for a Sunday lunch party over the weekend and if you had walked into the restaurant, you would have mistaken this group for any other group of friends you would see in Bangalore or anywhere else. Except for their conversation. Case in point: Zero gossip. No talk about who's getting married or divorced or breaking up. Only alphabets floated - TCS...SCMM...DRHM...BQ... This group while clearly having fun would not have made any sense to anyone coming off the street...

That's because this group were filled with runners...celebrating another runner for achieving something all runners wish they could do. Confused? On Sunday, I was part of a group that came together to hug and celebrate our friend TimTim Sharma. She has been running for 1.5 years now and in that time she has quietly (ok not so quietly) gone and won nearly all the big marathons and races in the country. And in culmination to all that was her running her best during the Standard Charted Mumbai Marathon (SCMM), winning it and qualifying for Boston Marathon (BQ). To the rest of the world this means this girl ran 42.2kms really fast and that's that. To us runners, this means a dream essentially coming true.

One of the most common questions I have gotten from friends and family this past year hasn't been whether I was getting married (although I get a million of those!), whether or not I had a boyfriend or even whether or not I was happy at my job. They want to know why I run. They look at my blisters. They see my lifestyle (which they deem insane) and they ask me what in the world possessed me to run as much as I do. I bite my lips, mumble a reply and change the subject. Because I know they won't understand. And because I know I can't quite put it into words why I love waking up at 4am in the morning to run circles till I finish 10, 15...20kms. But being a runner is as much part of my identity now as my own name.

And that's true for everyone who gathered on Sunday. They were all runners. Some joined to become part of a community. Some joined to get away from people. Some joined  to lose weight. And some like me perhaps began running because they were a little lost. When you run your fears are stripped from you and your worst problems feel manageable. The finish line is a place where there is ecstasy and relief, pain and despair. And on January 2014, one of us managed to achieve something amazing in that finish line...TimTim managed to make us all proud by running the hardest, pushing the hardest and doing her best. It's her achievement. Her moment in the sun and she will get to join the best runners from across the world when she runs Boston.

So, why were the rest of gathered for this moment? Because while the the average person will know that this was no mean feat, they still can't comprehend the effort that goes into running this well. We understand it. We may not all be as good (I know I am not!) but we know what it feels like to run so hard that you can only stumble when you cross the finish line.

Tim for her part is the best representation of what a runner can do and can be. We know that she has sacrificed so much to get here and continues to push herself to go further. We know that when girls her age are pub hopping, she's running intervals. She's doing fartleks (go ahead Rahul, now is your turn to make a fartlet joke and make me giggle). She's cycling. She's gymming. She's pushing beyond what normal human beings think themselves capable of. And because of that we are proud of her. Because of that, we came together to toast her success.

But that isn't all there is to it. She's inspired us all. When she smiles and tells me that I can run faster than I know I can run...I believe her. She genuinely cares when she pushes my friends (people she does not even know well) to do their bests after having met them for 10 minutes. She's that way with everyone she meets in her life. As long as they want to run and as long as they show up to run, she will be your biggest cheerleader. And people respond immediately. And that's why we showed up on Sunday. Not because we were runners but because we were friends too. And I don't make friends easily and I don't trust easily either. But I like this gang. A lot. We show up for the bad times and we celebrate the good ones. We may not all be alike (in fact most of us are as different as can be) but we understand why we wake up at 4am to run circles. So...this is a love letter to everyone in the room. Thanks for running with me and by my side.... And Tim...I know there is a lot more in store for you than this BQ. And we're all looking up to you to keep charging ahead. And we know you can do it all... So keep running. We're all rooting for you <3 

Running your first 10k

So, Pinkathon is just about a week away and that means many women in the city will be attempting their first 10k runs of their lives. I myself ran my first ever 10k at Pinkathon last year and was introduced into the running world with that run. So, I figured I would write about my experience running the distance and how I felt at the finish line.

First things first, if you are running a 10k for the first time in your life, then you need to be prepared for the possibility that you are going to truly suck. I never knew 10 kilometres was that long! I had always been able to run (6.5k being the longest I had ever run before that), so I thought the 10k would be easy. I was wrong. I started feeling knee pain at around the 4k mark after which I had to alternate between running and walking. After 5k, I realised that this was going to be a hard day for me. I was shot and demoralised and I knew I had to do another five kilometres. I ran for what felt like hours only to glance at my watch and realise that I had in fact only been running for 30 seconds. An aunty who was about three times my size easily overtook me and told me to buck up. I tried to keep my head up and put one foot in front of the other. A lot of thoughts crossed my mind. Mostly I was worried about whether I would ever reach the finish line. I had reached the 7k mark.

Around this time I found another female runner who was also struggling like me. I knew her from a previous run and she looked like death warmed over. We decided that we would finish together. Another elderly woman on her final loop (much much ahead of us), shouted us words of encouragement. I just wanted to cry. At this point I was limping and running. So this girl and I decided we would talk and walk and jog and get our minds off the run itself. We spoke about our lives. She told me about her husband. About how much she loved sports as a kid and wanted to take up running now because of it. I told her I loved football and that I was not happy with my job at that time. Despite being utter strangers, we divulged rather intimate details of our lives. We reached the 8k mark.

At this point, Cubbon Park started looking ominous to me. I was shivering and was in more pain than I had ever been in life. What I didn't know at that time was that this was due to my IT Band getting so tight that my knee could barely take it. I didn't know at that time that this problem would haunt me for months and would take tons of physiotherapy to set things right. All I knew was that I had been running for ages and I was still at the 8k mark. The road stretched ahead of me endlessly. My new friend was encouraging me to keep going. She told me not to focus on the pain but rather focus what I was going to eat at the end of the race. Weirdly enough that's the strategy I use even today when I feel a run is killing me. I think about my breakfast and I know the sooner I finish, the faster I can get my hands of whatever unhealthy meal I plan on eating that morning.

That day I dreamt of double cheese pizza. I reached the 9k mark. My friend turned to me and said that we should pick up the pace a bit. I thought I was dying. I knew that if I wasn't so exhausted I would have broken down and cried. The final 500 metre mark approached. At this point my friend told me she was going to turn up her pace and went ahead. I was barely able to keep my head up.  I entered Kanteerva Stadium. I was completely limping at this point but I summoned the last bit of energy I had left on me and I ran as much as I could. I crossed the finish line. I was dazed. In pain. And it was about one of the happiest memories of my life. I had completed the 10k in 1 hour and 16 minutes.

I may have recounted my first 10k like a horror story but the truth is that day I learnt a lot about myself. I realised I don't give up even when I am in pain. That's a trait that running has instilled me in the past year. I didn't know anything about running itself. I didn't have drifit clothes. My running shoes were a pair of beaten down Reebok Easy Tone shoes that weren't even my size. I ran wearing two different socks stolen from my father. My shorts were also cotton if my memory serves me right. It wasn't about the timing or the whether or not I looked like a runner (you know those girls from Nike ads). I got to the finish line. That's what mattered. I was a runner. I had earned my pizza. I had earned that grin that slowly enveloped my face as I realised that I had done it. At that time I only knew two runners - Dharmendra (the ultra man extraordinaire) and Brojen (the sweetest person you would ever meet). Both came and gave me a hug and told me I had done a great job. I got a glimpse into how amazing and encouraging the running community is. I was in pain but in that moment everything was forgotten. I wanted to do more. I wanted to keep running. I had made friends with the exhaustion because I knew there was exhilaration at the finish line. I never saw that girl again in my life. As I got more and more embroiled into running events and became serious about running, I think she may have given up entirely. I hope she is running somewhere though...where ever she is.

A lot of people ask me why I run (mostly non runners). I don't have fancy running clothes. I buy what's necessary. I buy good shoes but only when they are on sale. I only indulge in buying good drifit socks. Over the past year I have done three half marathons, one 25k and four 10ks. I was also forced out of running for a good two months in between when my ITBS problem became too painful to handle. But I kept running if only in my mind. I knew I wouldn't give up on this because of the pain.

Running is one of the most honest hobbies you can adopt for yourself. It makes you confront your own demons. There are no shortcuts in running. You can cheat on your exams, you can bribe corrupt officials and you can get ahead in work by sucking up to the boss. But you can only run when you have trained. You can only run when your body is ready for it. You can't lie about your run. Running clears your head. It keeps you fit. And it keeps you positive. You end with more energy than you can manage and you start day dreaming about running where ever you are.

My only advice to first timers is this - forget about things like podiums and timings. Just run the course. Grab a buddy if you can and encourage those behind you. Use the person who is ahead of you as inspiration. Don't be greedy and mean and rude. Smile a lot. Wear comfortable shoes. And when you get to that finish line, the distance, the pain, and the sweat will be entirely worth it. Never give up. I hope all you have great run next Sunday, 23rd Feb. Oh and do not forget to bring a scrunchie for your hair. Like an idiot I left mine at home and ran with my hair open last year. It makes your neck itch. It becomes rather heavy and you will fantasise about wanting to go bald in the middle of the race. So, yes, please wear a freaking scrunchie!

Like I said, wear a scrunchie!!!