Some thoughts about running

 

By Shevlin Sebastian

A few months ago, I discovered an area to jog which was salubrious. A broad tiled path ran through a large forest on one side and a few houses on the other. The advantage of this was that, unlike running on roads, I no longer encountered traffic. Instead, what I heard were the sounds of nature: birds chirping, the leaves rustling, and the crick-crick of the crickets.

Not surprisingly, there were walkers on the path. A group of four middle-aged women were regulars in their salwar kameez and sneakers. When I go past, I have heard the words, ‘cakes’, ‘pickles’, ‘property’ and ‘vaccine’. There are elderly couples too. Inevitably, the man walks ahead.

There are boys in cycles. A couple of them ride without touching the handle with the casual self-confidence of the very young. A man in his mid-thirties, with his shoulder length hair tied in a topknot, and with white earphones sticking out of his ears walks past, listening to music. Another girl in her late twenties also has earphones, but she is inevitably talking to somebody on the phone.

Sometimes, there are teenage boys and girls who stand on one side and have a chat. If they are in the mood, they play badminton but with no net. Just hitting the shuttle back and forth, interspersed with shouts and giggles. There is a group of seniors, all men with white hair, chatting about politics and the state of the world. The watchman, who is from Sikkim, is talking to his family back home.

In the midst of this crowd, I was the only runner, till recently. Now two youngsters do a bit of running.

I went about my run, thinking about this and that, even as my mouth was wide open, as I drew in gulps of air, whenever I increased my speed. Sweat poured off my forehead, and my T-shirt was drenched. But there were positives: my adrenal flow increased and so did my dopamine.

All was fine, till my wife asked me to drop off some clothes at a tailoring shop, which was just outside the area where I run. Imagine my surprise when the woman who runs the shop called my wife and said, “Oh, this is your husband. He runs like the breeze.”

Did I? I don’t think I am running fast. But it may look fast, because after a year of running non-stop, I have missed about 10 days in 365 days, I may have developed my stamina and endurance. Somebody told my aunt who lives nearby about my running. When I met her, she said, “Please try not to run so much. You are putting a lot of strain on my knees.”

Yes, I too am worried about my knees. So, I tell my knees: ‘please rejuvenate yourself and be healthy and full of vitality’. This is a practice I do often: I thank different parts of my body because of the ceaseless work they do: the eyes, ears, heart, lungs, liver, small and large intestines, arms, legs and the guru of them all: the brain. Sometimes, I will go further and thank the femur, tibia, ankles, soles, teeth, tongue, throat, spine, coccyx and even the anus.

The only alternative to running is swimming, the greatest exercise of them all, but thanks to the coronavirus, the pools are closed to ordinary people. Only competitors can access a pool.

A couple of days ago, two boys, on cycles, who looked to be ten and twelve years old, accosted me and asked my name and age. After I told my name, I asked them to guess my age. The ten-year-old shook his head, unable to think of a number, but the elder one took a shot. It was twelve years younger and I let it be. He would probably get a shock at the true number.

I felt elated that even youngsters had noticed me. But my wife killed me when she described my running style: “It’s like you have just grabbed a gold necklace from the neck of a woman and are fleeing, with the policemen chasing you.”

I had to laugh at this description, but it at least showed I ran fast.

But do I? In a country where very few people exercise, I might stand out. But if I go abroad, what I do, running a mere 3 kms a day, and walking another 3 kms will be regarded as pathetic.

A few years ago when I went to Singapore, my childhood friend Pradeep Paul invited me to go for a 10 km run with the Hash House Harriers Club, a group of cross-country runners. So we ran on roads, on bridges, climbed fences, and whizzed through fields. But there were so many foreigners in their sixties and even in their seventies who ran faster. I finished in the middle of the pack. So, in Singapore, my stamina would be considered not-so-great.

But in Kerala and India, where standards are abysmally low, a bit of speed is seen to be a big thing. So, I am not tapping myself on the back.

Meanwhile, I understood one important lesson from these daily runs. The mind controls the body. On days when I am in a good mood, I run faster. And there have been days when I have been low, and my body quickly got the message. I had to drag myself through the course, unable to get up the usual speed.

So, as author Deepak Chopra rightly said, what you think that you become. And your body responds to your every mood in that manner.

These are some thoughts which came my way on a sunny Sunday morning.