Down On My Knees

Chicken pox kept me away from school for a month. I was only 6 then and I remember hating it. I'd always been a healthy kid. It felt like I was being punished for never having fallen sick and I was making up for the all earlier years in one shot. I hated missing school more than anything else.

Decades later, the chicken pox had relegated to dark corners of my mind. While I sympathized with others who fell sick or got injured, I stayed away from anything remotely requiring medical attention. How I managed it is beyond me but I took it for granted. I had abused my body with junk food, no food, erratic workouts for years and all I needed to fix myself up was 2 days in bed, recharging. It is amazing how self-healing the human body is.

Cut to 2012.

It all started with a back-ache that I ignored for as long as I could. It was just sleeping on the couch. Or maybe the bad posture at work. It was going to be fine. I just needed to stop doing those things. I would. It went on this way until I landed flat on my back, on the carpet one fine Sunday morning, unable to perform normal physical activities like getting up, sitting or standing without my back complaining. With much reluctance and driven by panic, I saw a doctor. "Weak muscles", he rued. He was happy to prescribe medicines but I brushed it off saying I wouldn't do it if I didn't have to. He wrote me a letter to get a core strength assessment by a physio and handed me a sheet detailing some stretches I could do, to strengthen the lower back muscles.

Once I started the stretches and the back was beginning to feel OK, I forgot all about the doctor and his physio recommendation. I ignored the niggly sensation in my knees for weeks and waved off the protests during my Krav Maga kicks. I continued to ignore it even after I started to feel like I was going to buckle whenever I walked. I should have at least hooked up to the internet to see if it needed attention but I didn't. I was in denial. It was going to be ok. That was until I carried a heavy bag and walked for about 3 kilometres one evening, while on holidays. Soon, the happy vacation turned into a series of stretches, ice-packs, ultrasound and I was pretty much under house-arrest.

By now I had been suffering all sorts of aches for 2 months and I was aware of my weak muscles. The least I could offer my body was a little rest. For someone who has mis-treated the body for over 30 years, it was a concept hard to grasp. Two weeks into the treatment, throwing all caution to the wind, I headed back overseas and started work. Over the next 2 weeks, I was brought down by my knees once again. It was back to square one. Ice-packs, taped knees, ultrasound, rest. The works. Serves me right for not doing the "rest" thing the first time around. Lesson learned. Right?

I'm just back from another horribly expensive physio session (that my insurance barely covers) and feeling better. All thanks to the massage, ultra-sound and knee-taping (ugh) by my Kiwi physio, who told me she had her first physio appointment at the age of 8. The restlessness that comes with feeling slightly more mobile is back. I want to be out and about, doing all the things I would normally be doing. The only thing that is stopping me from caving in, is knowing how crippled I have been over the weekend... after I had started to walk a little just the week before.

The chicken pox phase jumps to the forefront, from the dark hollows of my mind. It's like a headless villain stepping out of the shadows, in a long black cape. Yet again, is this life making me pay for the score and something years of good health I have had? It's been over 3 months since the first signs of the weak muscles appeared and started giving me grief. I can't wait to feel "normal" again!

I feel exactly like I did when I was 6 years old. I was forced to stay in the bedroom so I would not spread the germs around, only being allowed to get out if I needed to use the bathroom. Mum brought me food and water but I was kept away from the outside world. This time, I'm older and the room is a house, but the feeling is all the same. I am counting down minutes to get back to the outside world... to run and to dance... to kick some groin in Krav class... and to grab that elusive P3 patch... and do all those crazy things on my list...

Abseiling @ Kangaroo Point

I had made the poor guy wait half an hour. Yet, when he saw me, he gave me a wide smile and cheerfully said, "You made it!". People who carry such positive energy enrich your life simply by being in it for a few minutes.

By the time Marcelo Paiva was done showing me the ropes to Abseiling, I was convinced there was no way I could do it. He insisted that I should try. I would rather have pushed him off the cliff and run from there. Of course, I did not do that. Instead, I obliged. I had nothing to lose by trying, only by not. 

When the knots were tied and harnesses tightened, I was roped in. Literally! I walked slowly backwards, just as he had shown me. Instead of screaming & grabbing him in terror, I experienced a moment of knowing. There is no better way to describe it. Standing there, on the edge of the cliff and trying to lean as far back as I could, I suddenly realized that I knew how to do this. I knew that I could do it. I leaned back, lifted my feet off the edge, one by one & placed them flat on the vertical face of the rock. Once the first steps were taken, there was no looking back. I found myself concentrating on the ropes and the rocks. It was just the rock and my foot, the ropes & my palms - the rest of the world did not exist. When I landed, I was greeted warmly by another excited instructor from Riverlife. He yelled out to Marcelo and said, 'Hey, she has done it!' 

After I had done it once, I wanted to do it again. Of course, I had an hour and half in which to try as many times as I wanted. I tried looking down at one time and almost lost a foothold. My heart skipped a beat. The third time I tried a slightly different route. I tried a smoother, plainer surface of the rocks, knowing that it was not so much the foothold that mattered as it was my feet walking down the rocks as I lowered down by the rope. That was supposed to be my last attempt but I could not stop myself from going for a fourth. This time, I tried the new route and I looked down. No fear. I had conquered it. Atleast, as long as there was my own rope and a belay to support me. It felt great.

One of the best things I like about going alone anywhere is the new friends I get to make. The interesting people & conversations. The enriching experience. Marcelo told me about Capoeira - a Brazilian martial arts form - and I told him about Krav maga - the Israeli martial arts form. He is one of the instructors for capoeira. Who knows? I might end up there one day, to learn the Brazilian style too. And there's music to it, a bit of dance. I'm almost hooked.

I met a lady whose son loves Terry Pratchett and she was so excited to tell me about seeing him walk down the road during one of her overseas trips. Met a few people interested in my experience of abseiling itself. Then a few who wanted to know about rock-climbing and Riverlife. Without realizing it, I had ended up being an ad campaign for Riverlife and their abseiling, in those couple of hours. 

I found out that Kangaroo Point was a paradise for runners. There's a flight of narrow stairs, starting at the bottom of the cliff, right up to the top. I met 2 men who walk/run up & down - they try to cover over 200 steps each time. There is also a lovely park that I missed the opportunity to explore, given that daylight was rapidly diminishing. Not to mention the lovely restaurant atop the cliff with a fabulous view of the river, the Brisbane skyline and the activities at the cliff. 

Riverlife also does kayaking, night paddling, etc. If I don't go back there for rock-climbing, there are other things in store for me. If nothing else, Kangaroo Point itself has a fair bit I am yet to explore. Just when I thought I was running out of activities in Brisbane, a new part of the city presents itself. A lovely suburb. 

Incidentally, the CityCat ferries are back in service, post the floods. I did about 2 CityCat rides and 4 CityFerry trips across the river today. As if to make up for all the days that I missed? Was not intentional but hey, it happened. The new Groove Train at Eagle Street Pier is strategically located, right at the Riverside Terminal for the CityCat. I had just enough time to gulp down a pint of Tooheys Xtra Dry before I rushed off to take the boat home. It was my first time in the night. Black water below me, dark clouds above and blackness everywhere - the silhouettes of the trees that look so green during the day, the office buildings on holidays... the occasional spot of bright light, in many colours, dazzled in the dark of the night. I closed my eyes and took a mental picture.

Yes, it has been a wonderful day. 

Bridge To Brisbane - My Best Run

Unlike back home where the papers are all abuzz with celebrities running (Deepika Padukone and Rahul Bose for the Sunfeast World 10K run, Gul Panag and others at the Mumbai Marathon) where that's all one gets to see - i.e. pics of celebs encouraging one to run and after the run, pics of them having taken off - this was different. When the flyers in my goody-bag said Adam Gilchrist was the Community Ambassador for our bank, I did not expect to actually see him there. Surprise, surprise! He was there, standing behind the sunscreen stands, chatting to people. Walk up to him and ask for a picture, he obliges like he's there just for you! Of course, it helped that nobody was mobbing him at the stands.

Even though I started off by talking about 'Gilly', that was not quite the highlight of today's run. Well, the highlight of Bridge2Brisbane was charity for Autism, among others. For me, the brightest moment was the dash across the finishing line. To simply realize that I had run the entire 5km without stopping, on an empty stomach, was exhilarating! I was not sure I could do it. I was unprepared, insofar as my gear and bag were not in order, I woke up a good half hour late this morning, the coffee spilled in the microwave and I was late. So late that I made it to the Square, just as the rest of them had paid for their coffee and were about to head off as soon as I arrived. However, that was to be the end of my bad moments. 

Arrived well in time for the run, had enough time to slap on some sunscreen at the Sunwise station, a quick piccie with the Aussie cricketer and plenty of time for warm-up or relaxation, whatever one chose to do. I chose to take pictures and gawk at the multitude of colours and people around me, of course. 

The original plan involved running the 5k in 30 minutes. Considering that I had had beer and champagne yesterday, no breakkie this morning and no bananas in my bag, I changed my plans. Plan B was to run the 5k in 40 minutes. Plan C was to run the usual 3.5k and walk a while before taking off again. The first 1k was the hardest. I overheard someone at the finish saying, "I saw the 1k sign and thought "Fuck, that's all?"". That was exactly how I felt. The sun did not help. Hunger definitely did not help. I gulped some water and kept pushing myself. I could do it, I could do atleast 3k. The orange pacer balloons for 30 minutes was ahead of me. Way ahead but I could see it from the far end, the while 40 minutes balloons were behind me. I meant to keep it that way, till the end.

At the 3k mark, I nearly gave up. The weather had lifted up a bit and gotten better soon after the start. Around the 3k mark, the road got steeper and the sun came up over our heads again. The cap was not helping. Water was not helping. The only solace was the electrolyte at the 2.5k mark. "Don't stop, keep going", I repeated to myself. In my head, I could hear my husband saying, "Run slow if you must but don't stop". That was it... a slow run... almost 200 metres of walk...

The people running past me was too much motivation to not run. I broke into a jog and picked up speed again. The large red sign that screamed, "Congratulations! Only 1k to go!" was a thrill to sight. There was going to be no slowing down anymore. Just before the last 300 metres, there was a volunteer holding a large placard that said 'Reduce Speed'. I almost did. I knew it was the right thing to do, one has to reduce speed. Nobody cared. We had neared the ending, we have to make it to the finish line, that was all was in everyone's minds. People started to pick up speed. 

That was it, I could hold it no longer. My legs found life of their own and I dashed. Ran like my life was at stake. In just under 35 minutes, I had made it. Not too bad, not too bad. I could not stop right away, of course, after that mad rush of adrenalin. It was totally worth pushing myself. My best run so far. 

The water stations, the spray tents, fruits and breakkie at the finish were a blessing. We picked up another tee that said that we had finished the B2B, returned our timing chips and grabbed the free copy of Sunday Mail. At the train station, everyone seemed to have run the B2B. So much excitement among the kids. I was beat, I wish I had their energy. I could not wait to get home and jump into the shower. Warm water. Paradise found.

Sunfeast 5.7K Majja Run 2010

So I did the run again this year. The Sunfeast World 10K Bangalore (2010). It was an adventure, compared to the 2009 run. That was a run-walk-walk-run that ended in a photograph of me and a colleague in one of the local newspapers. This was a different story altogether.

The Women's World 10K Runners

It started off just like last years did - catching up with friends outside the stadium, checking out people in costume, watching the World 10K women return, hooting & cheering, mobile photographs and finally running out from the stands on to the tracks when the gates opened (as my sister-in-law said, "like animals released from their cages"). If it was not for the lifeless crowd ahead of me, I might have even pushed and shoved (erm...crowd mentality... uh). 

Somewhere in the middle of this, the Open 10K run started and we searched desperately for my brother. He should have been easy to spot, in his fluoroscent green & red attire. Not easy but spot him we did and photographed him too. Look for him in the picture below.

The Open 10K begins

I took off on a sprint right at the start, leaving my friends behind within seconds. I knew I was unfit, untrained, unfed and thirsty, so I was pretty sure that my run would not last for long, I wanted to make the most of it when the energy levels were still high. That led me to throw caution to the wind and run right away, instead of starting slowly and picking up speed later. That was one of my many follies of the morning.

About 800m from where I started off at 09:02 hrs, I ran out of breath. Running on the hot roads in the blazing sun with no cap or sunglasses, what could I expect? More examples of lack of preparation. I hoped to walk a bit and start jogging again. I intended to jog as much as I could and I was counting on the electral/glucose supplies at the water-stations to help me. Sorry to note, no such thing. All that was available was water and sipping on it did not help at all. So, try as I might I found myself unable to do more than walk. Tired, hot, sweaty and uncomfortable. 

Pic courtesy marathon-photos

A friend passed by and egged me on, so I ran with him for a while. He left me behind as he kept running & I kept slowing down. I caught up with another friend who was doing a slow jog too and very soon, even she had overtaken me. More walking. At every kilometer, there were volunteers and non-participant public egging us on and each time, I felt encouraged and ran a few meters. Maybe 20? Maybe 50? Could not have been more, I am sure. 

"Come on Bangalore, Run. Do not run with your legs, run with your heart", one of the volunteers was screaming. 

"Odi Odi, race madi. Avrigintha fast agi neevu odbeku. Odi odi", a fat middle-aged enthusiastic woman jiggling and clapping.

Cheering from cops holding the boundaries, traffic, dog-walkers, morning walkers, photographers, reporters, the cacophony of voices and noises were encouraging in a weird way. Yet, I found it a struggle to run. Except at corners, milestones and other places where the cheering just could not be ignored and the feet took off by themselves. By the time I reached the half-way mark, the pre-existing ache in my shoulders had aggravated. When a friend of mine asked me the previous night why I was running in spite of my shoulder aches, I said, "I'm running with my legs, how would that affect my shoulders?" Now I know.

I was grateful for the first-aid station that finally offered some electral. A bit of that powder in my bottle and I was ready to run some more. A lot of running and walking later, I covered 4.5km, where I met another friend of mine. She suggested we run the last bit. That and the fact that the stadium was in sight was enough drive for me. I ran the last 500m and turned around to spot my friend. She was gone! I waited up for her and we picked up another bottle of water, as I tried to get in touch with the rest of my crowd. 

An apple, bun and a couple of biscuits later, I felt alive again. Achy shoulders, achy neck and the promise of achy legs but I felt alive. All I needed now was some cool air. A wait for my sister-in-law and an elaborate search for my brother, which included walking around the stadium, calling random people, munching on some puri and announcing from the DJ console, later we headed to where our car was parked. Another search for the car in the parking lot (like sister, like brother, we can never remember where we parked) and finally, we returned home in the heavenly atmosphere of an air-conditioned car. 

Two days later, I am still nursing my body aches as I hunt down the official photographs on the marathon-photos website and squeal in delight, each time I find one from our gang. 

I might have run about a kilometer and walked the rest. It was disappointing until I saw the pictures. They tell a different story. I have run. That is what counts. Looking forward to the next run. When will that be? Where will that be? 

Sunfeast 10K World Run 2010

My first post on this blog was on 2nd June 2009, called the Majja Majja Run. It was after the run and I spoke of my experiences. This time I find myself writing an account before the run. 

I had hoped to train and run the open 10K this year but as a lot of other things go, I never got around to it and I find myself gearing up for the Majja Run again this year.

Last year, I registered to run for an NGO called Dream-A-Dream and collected donation for them. This year, the fees have been hiked up by a 100 bucks and I'm just running for me. 

Last year, I picked up the bib from work. This year, I went to the stadium and it was good to see the stalls and arrangements. 

Last year, the goodie bag was full of biscuits, chips and crap that I did not care to use. This year, the goodie bag is a lot better. Sunscreen, facewash, hair gel, biscuits, chips, sugarfree, and so on, two sachets of each... except for the energy tablets, it was all useful stuff. 

 

Last year, I did not even know there was a fancy dress part to the Majja Run. This year, I not only knew but I wanted to participate. I wanted to be a cute yellow chicken. Agreed I'm no cutie but the yellow chicken part should be do-able right? I was not even able to convince the rest of the family to co-operate. Not enough time, that is my pathetic excuse.

Last year, I ran with a colleague from work. This year, I run with family and a friend from school.

All these differences apart, one thing has not changed. Last year, I ran* with no training at all. This year, I run* with no training at all.

* When I say ran/run, I may mean run a bit, walk a bit, run lots (ah-em), walk lots, wish I could sit down, try to run, walk, jog, walk, sweat like a horse, walk, walk, walk, oh thank god we're here!

Run or walk, I need to be up early and be well-rested for some 'majja' tomorrow. Here I go...

Bib Numbers 392, 393 and 637

We have a biker and a runner in the family - the husband and the brother, respectively - which means that every weekend, there is atleast one cycling or running event that somebody is participating in. Recently, thanks to all the encouragement from the husband and a friend, I took up cycling seriously. I did my longest ride, so far, yesterday - 31k in an hour and twenty. When bro asked me if I would like to do the 5km run on Women's Day, I said why not.

Bro could not do the run as he had a bigger event to participate in, at work - Toyota Greenathon - and the wife backed out, for she fell sick. The husband and mum stepped in, to do their runs. At 5.55AM, we set out by car and reached the venue, minutes in advance of the kick-off. 

The plan was that mum would walk the 5km, I would run the 5km and the husband would run the 10km. The 10km runners took off approximately 10 minutes before the 5km runners. Mum started with her walk and I broke into a slow run. 

The last time I ran in the Sunfeast World 5k run, I had taken off at the beginning and tired soon enough. The 5km run had consisted of a number of fast runs, slow runs and walks interspersed as I tired and picked up intermittently. This time, the plan was to maintain a uniform pace, a slow run and keep going as much as I could. I was hoping to run atleast 3km of the 5km run. 

I managed the half-way mark, running all the way, stopping only once for a sip of electral-water. It got harder towards the end but I was determined to make it. The stomach was wobbly and a wee distracting but I ignored it by helping myself to the myriad sights around me. I took a few pics but not of very good quality, some even shaken as I did not want to stop to click and break my run. 

There was a father and son, in a striking similar attire. Brown shorts and white tee. The father was struggling to run, so when the son took off he went, "Don't run, don't run!". That was funny because aren't we doing the Women's Day Run?

There were a host of people, running in the T-shirt of the Sunfeast World Run. Mum, the husband and I were among the first 500 to register, so we got an Adidas event T-shirt. 

Closer to the start and end points, there was a band, indicating that the destination was closer. It was like a sign of encouragement, "Keep going, you're almost there"

Finally the half-way mark, the 2.5km sign where the 5km runners had to make a U-turn. The 10km runners had gone past this and had to do three 'rounds'.

As I turned at the half-way mark, my stomach was aching unbearably. I had to slow down, so I started to walk. It was disappointing to have to walk back. I had not even done my 3km target. I was disappointed but so be it. A few minutes into the walk, approximately 1km later, I heard someone calling out my name. Mum! She had walked and how fast! Just minutes behind me! I clicked a picture as she kept walking (look for the woman in the long white tee and black tracks) and then broke into another run, the stomach ache forgotten. I had to run.

Either the walk was the rest I needed or mum, the encouragement, for I ran to the end from there, stopping once again for a sip of cold water about half a kilometer from the point where we had started. On the way, I met the husband running his last round of the 10km run - sweating profusely. I took another picture (Superman is the guy in the centre) from behind, for both of us did not want to break our speeds.

Entered the gates to a round of applause and cheering from those present there, encouraging everyone who finished the race running. Suddenly, the cheering turned crazy with people calling out "Neera, Neera". I turned around, just in time to click the first of the women's 10km runners (girl in pink). 

I collected my certificate and waited for mum, as I tried to cool down before I went for the water/banana/biscuit/juice available in the various stalls setup for the runners. 

Mum arrived, running the last 50m in the spirit of the run (she can't run because of a painful uterus condition). I led mom to the queue that had, by then, formed for the certificates. As we stood there, I was getting restless, for I wanted to click the husband running in. I was so proud of him! He ran the 10km, with barely any training. Before I could head back, he had finished. Ten kilometers in under one hour. Bravo!

Water, a banana & biscuit and juice (Booster Juice - an awful mix of flavour, preservative and water) later, we clicked a couple of pictures atop the stage with the background announcing the organizers, sponsors and the NGO being supported. 

We waited around to watch the winners being announced, bought some groceries on the way back to the car and headed home. I bought my mum flowers to tell her how proud of her I was. A beautiful way to start a Sunday morning.

We ran... DNA has proof

It turns out that I was wrong, after all! Somebody - one of the scores of photographers at the Sunfeast Run - caught Jeena & me in a moment that gave us our 15 seconds to fame! He didn't just give us a frame but caught us during a run... the 15 minutes of run in the 5K race! He threw in our photo with a catchy line and put us in the centre of the page - mind you, there's no mistaking who the runners are! Without further ado, behold page 8 in the link to Monday's DNA Bangalore
http://epaper.dnaindia.com/dnabangalore/epapermain.aspx?queryed=9&eddate=6%2f1%2f2009

Majja Majja Run

My exhilaration of participating in the Sunfeast World 10K Run, in Bangalore this Sunday, is by no means comparable to either the 10K runners or the wheelchair event. In fact, I wasn't even in costume. I was merely a runner - one among the 1000s of people of all ages and sizes who chose to partly jog, partly walk the 5kms that was charted out to us. Therefore, invisible to the media and even the amateur photographers who brushed us aside as 'unglamorous'.

Optimist that I am, I refuse to fret. I picked up approximately 7000 steps on my pedometer (go GCC!), met a couple of old friends (it's a small world after all) and most importantly opened my eyes to the level of (or lack of) physical fitness I had. In short, it wasn't a vain effort after all.

The sheer number of participants in the stadium took my breath away! This was just a fraction of the city's population, willing to spend their Sunday morning running for various causes... some, of course, simply for the pleasure of running. The sponsors and charity organizations were plentier than I'd expected. I learnt of the existence of run clubs in Bangalore, of book reader groups I'd never heard of and of child-help organizations whose volunteers unleashed the children in themselves as they ran, jumped and laughed with the young ones. A unique experience, it was!

What really disappointed me, however, was the litter that was strewn along the way. On one hand, everyone claimed to be running for namma Bengaluru whereas on the other hand, no one was really giving a second's thought to cleanliness! The KF bottles being handed out at the water stations were dropped off on the roads as people ran along. Some kids even played footy with the plastic on the streets. What a pity that neither children nor the parents seemed to care!

Next time around, I hope people are more responsible and the sponsors take just a little more trouble to ensure they have enough trash bins and volunteers around, to avoid the mess.

Yet, all in all, it was a nice experience. The colours, the excitement, the energy levels, the myriad of people... very nice! Very very nice!