Addicted to Hash

My first drag of Hash ever and I am hooked: completely, irrevocably, dangerously, hooked. The Hashers advertise themselves as the drinkers with a running problem. So in a true serious runner-snob fashion, I avoided running with them for three years. The Bangalore Hash was the first club I joined after NewZealand threw me back to my hometown. But back then I liked being a solitary runner and beer was not my favorite brew. The Hash club held little charm for me.

I do not know what prompted me to go for the Xmas hash bash last night, or what dragged me to the Eagle ridge resort this morning to the bike hash, but boy, am I glad I ended my 3 year self-imposed quarantine.I loved the hash run and all the hash runners. They are fun, charming people to be around; and of course, any trail running is a pure pleasure.

Major plus, I got an all important heat training under my belt as well. The run started at around 11 am and I was on my feet for an hour and a half or more. The sun started out being a benevolent dude but around noon bared all his gazillion blinding teeth. We moaned, groaned, cursed our fates and finally tumbled into the resort after an approximately 18K long run. Manoj and Jugy, thanks for ensuring that much of the trail was sans any cover at all.

Since it was primarily a bike hash, it was just 6 of us on the run. Mike, Patrice, Rudolph, Naveen, Sunil and I followed the biker men, women and kiddies around the Eagle Ridge area. TI had sponsored some brand-new awesome Hercules bikes, but my favorite was the Trek that one of the hashers, Robert, had brought along with him. Looked really sleek and jazzy, and I immediately thought of my poor old MTB Thunder with immense fondness. It has been languishing away at home, in dire need of a new seat and definitely desiring a new rider. Oh well, bums on the saddle again one of these days:-)

This Hash run was a historic one as well; I witnessed the fall of an old and rise of a new empire (trumpets blaring, please!). They elected a new mismanagement this Sunday. So there was the usual sitting-the-behinds on a block of ice and chanting of ancient tribal hymns, replete with illustrative hand-gestures (gosh, I very much wanted to distribute some ear plugs to the supposedly innocent kiddos). I like the Hash lingo, they call the little tykes Horrors; and having witnessed the ferocity with which they attacked the Hercules bikes and yelled and screamed their way across the trail, I am hardly surprised at the moniker.

The hash ended with a beer and biryani lunch. A good burrpy time was had by all.

What I liked about this Hash run was that it was a good, medium tough run, and at the same time was such immense fun that I did not feel it at all at the end of the afternoon. Plus I got my favorite runners high, that lovely huge surge of endorphins, that lasted me well into the evening.

Moral of the story: Am and always will be a die-hard RFL girl, but man, I do love the Hash. I plan to Hash as many fortnights as I can fit in, and am hatching schemes as to how to drag lovely Sabine into it as well. Help the tribe grow and flourish and the like. So here's to plenty more Sundays of nice easy running and great company and excellent beer! Hiccing it up!!!!