26 June 2010
Took a flight out of Bangalore this morning. I am carrying enough stuff to set up a Red Cross camp in Dharmashala. Last-minute stuffing random things in a backpack can do that. Reached Delhi the middle of a heat-wave and melted into the tarmac.
Met Sachin after 3 weeks.He has been travelling through Manali and Vashishth with friends. He looks tanned and gorgeous, and is full of tales of hot water springs and 4-day treks to Kirganga. Glad to note he is not in his usual Mr.Grumpy mode.
Srkanth and Robin have this lovely duplex house in Gurgaon. Smells and looks like a boys' pad and I mean that in the most complimentary way I can. Brought back memories of Symbi and vegging out in a friend's house in Pashan.
We went for a quick lunch and tank up to this drinking hole called Howzzat. Is a microbrewery. Has a cricketing theme, though they were screening the World Cup. The chairs are in the shape of huge human hands. Dont ask me how it goes into the theme, the overall effect is of privacy and luxury. I settled myself into the middle finger and ordered up a wheat beer and crumb fried chicken. Felt like earth mother and Colonel Sanders rolled into one. The crumb fried chicken was decadent, the beer in an impossibly tall mug was surprisingly un-bitter and super refreshing.
Evening time saw us heading out for some more liquid nourishment. Sri took us to Khan market. To the non-Delhiite, that's like a street full of eateries and shops. We went to a place called Chonars (mix of Pecos and Satya Bar). Food in Delhi is stroke-inducingly costly. But since I was not paying, I ordered willy-nilly. A pepper chicken, fish chilly, LIIT, and a vodka and red bull later, I realised I luuurrveeed Delhi.
Do not remember much else about the night. Am told there was a chocolate gelato, not-so-gentle snoring in the backseat of Sri's car and popping of Allegra to keep the sinus allergy at bay.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Life After 5
I have quit my corporate job.June 5th, 2010. I want to say this again and again, a chant, a mantra, till I finally believe it myself. A 6-month thinking about it, a 3-month talking about it, and a 3-month notice period.I think Rome was built faster than my grand exit from the 9-5. I must say, in some kind of perverse, reverse loyalty binge, I did some of my best work in those last 3 months.
What do I do next? I call it my WTF plan: Wedding, Travel, Fitness.
Wedding: Getting Married on Novemeber 11, 2010. Yay for me and Sachin. The Wedding is in Mysore. I am being cajoled, bullied, threatened, enticed and incited into learning the art of making the perfect chapati. I am almost convinced that I will enjoy the supreme pleasures of marital bliss if and only if my chapatis are light, round and perfectly puffed up...
Travel: The first couple of months I dedicate to travelling..and most of it, travelling alone. Never done that before. So it is off to Dharamkot, then to Manali and Ladakh. Rajat is organising the longest Indian ultra, called The High. Am volunteering as a crewmember there. So Gute Reise to me!!
Fitness: The next big plan is to complete my ACE certifications, do a course in Lifestyle and Weight Management, become a fitness professional, and get paid for talking ad nauseam about diets and exercise regimes...el deliciousooo!
The next 6 months are looking a-promising...time will tell.
What do I do next? I call it my WTF plan: Wedding, Travel, Fitness.
Wedding: Getting Married on Novemeber 11, 2010. Yay for me and Sachin. The Wedding is in Mysore. I am being cajoled, bullied, threatened, enticed and incited into learning the art of making the perfect chapati. I am almost convinced that I will enjoy the supreme pleasures of marital bliss if and only if my chapatis are light, round and perfectly puffed up...
Travel: The first couple of months I dedicate to travelling..and most of it, travelling alone. Never done that before. So it is off to Dharamkot, then to Manali and Ladakh. Rajat is organising the longest Indian ultra, called The High. Am volunteering as a crewmember there. So Gute Reise to me!!
Fitness: The next big plan is to complete my ACE certifications, do a course in Lifestyle and Weight Management, become a fitness professional, and get paid for talking ad nauseam about diets and exercise regimes...el deliciousooo!
The next 6 months are looking a-promising...time will tell.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Time of the Year again
Ultra on November 16, 2008.
Look forward to the rebirthing of my blog....
Pray for me!!!
Look forward to the rebirthing of my blog....
Pray for me!!!
Monday, February 18, 2008
Empty Nest Syndrome: Confessions of an Out of Steam Runner
Kaveri Trail Marathon , Bangalore Ultra, Mumbai Marathon...November, December and January zoomed past me in a fast and furious whizz.
Upside: Woweee, what an amazing way to end a year and start the new one. To top it, I am now eligible to be an official Marathon Maniac.
Downside: Am in the deep end of the post-running depression. Almost a month after the Mumbai marathon, the limbs still feel blue and absolutely tuckered out. The unused Gatorade bottles are staring at me befuddled, never before have they been so blatantly ignored. Most marathon pundits suggest that you rest for at least 26 days after a marathon, one day for every mile that you run. Ho-hum, I want to train for another race NOW, my stubborn mind screams.
I have run many fun runs in between, most of them with the Bangalore Hash, but Holy Chameli, I want my mojo back... this Saturday, I dragged my protesting feet for a run around a few blocks. Managed the fattest-ass 24 K ever, where I spent most of my time on feet hurling abuses at the blackguards on wheels trying to mow me down. So much for encouraging sport amongst women!!
The recovery period has had its few moments of glory. I have begun strength training sessions with Rajat at the Manipal Hospital, they are infinitely different from the testosterone laden gym workouts you will get across Bangalore. Resumed my kickboxing classes last week. Still find it difficult to distinguish my left from my right, but my abs were screaming bloody mercy for 2 days after my "welcome back" session. My poor old MTB Thunder has been packed off to the bike clinic to get spruced up again. Time to get back on the saddle.
Fortunately or otherwise, all my runner buddies: Athreya, Sabine, Sunil et al seem to be wallowing in the same murky aftermath of overtraining and overrunning. My biggest fear: the attack of the Adipose!!! The honeymoon period of guilt free carbo loading is over. It is a simple enough equation. From a rich 2500-3000 calories diet that you were allowed during your 80K a week training sessions, you are suddenly forced to be on a nibbler diet to offset the reduced mileage. No way, sister, I want my chocolate cake, thickly accompanied by two gallons of vanilla icecream. So now after days of negligible runs and humongous marathon feasts, I scour the internet lanes for articles that promise me one unique way of instant weight loss.
I know I need a running plan, a couple of races in the near future to get the adrenalin rushing through me again. It will happen soon, yep, but the wait seems interminable.
Upside: Woweee, what an amazing way to end a year and start the new one. To top it, I am now eligible to be an official Marathon Maniac.
Downside: Am in the deep end of the post-running depression. Almost a month after the Mumbai marathon, the limbs still feel blue and absolutely tuckered out. The unused Gatorade bottles are staring at me befuddled, never before have they been so blatantly ignored. Most marathon pundits suggest that you rest for at least 26 days after a marathon, one day for every mile that you run. Ho-hum, I want to train for another race NOW, my stubborn mind screams.
I have run many fun runs in between, most of them with the Bangalore Hash, but Holy Chameli, I want my mojo back... this Saturday, I dragged my protesting feet for a run around a few blocks. Managed the fattest-ass 24 K ever, where I spent most of my time on feet hurling abuses at the blackguards on wheels trying to mow me down. So much for encouraging sport amongst women!!
The recovery period has had its few moments of glory. I have begun strength training sessions with Rajat at the Manipal Hospital, they are infinitely different from the testosterone laden gym workouts you will get across Bangalore. Resumed my kickboxing classes last week. Still find it difficult to distinguish my left from my right, but my abs were screaming bloody mercy for 2 days after my "welcome back" session. My poor old MTB Thunder has been packed off to the bike clinic to get spruced up again. Time to get back on the saddle.
Fortunately or otherwise, all my runner buddies: Athreya, Sabine, Sunil et al seem to be wallowing in the same murky aftermath of overtraining and overrunning. My biggest fear: the attack of the Adipose!!! The honeymoon period of guilt free carbo loading is over. It is a simple enough equation. From a rich 2500-3000 calories diet that you were allowed during your 80K a week training sessions, you are suddenly forced to be on a nibbler diet to offset the reduced mileage. No way, sister, I want my chocolate cake, thickly accompanied by two gallons of vanilla icecream. So now after days of negligible runs and humongous marathon feasts, I scour the internet lanes for articles that promise me one unique way of instant weight loss.
I know I need a running plan, a couple of races in the near future to get the adrenalin rushing through me again. It will happen soon, yep, but the wait seems interminable.
Monday, December 24, 2007
78 K, 9:57, Yipeee!
Exactly a week after the ultra, I have finally worked up the words to write about 'the best footrace this side of the planet.' But if I sit myself on the psychiatrist's couch and think about why it took me so long to get down to business and write about it real time, as Girish insisted I do, it is not too tough to figure it out. Imagine six months of hard-assed training, living and breathing the ultra. 78Km was part of every single conversation with every single person I knew. Hmmm, that might explain the dwindling set of friends :-); and suddenly it was over. And writing a blog about it is like the final sayonara to it. But I do have to start training for the Mumbai marathon, so I guess I have to let go!
My ultra adventure actually began the afternoon before the event. Carbo loading at Little Italy (where else would it be with Rajat around) was followed by a loooooooong ride to Our Native Village. As kismet would have it, we went through every road hazard, from traffic jams to street fights to accidents to getting horribly lost to of course, the inevitable flat tire. I swear running the 78K was a whole lot easier.
But reach ONV we finally did, around 8 pm and were greeted by a semi-hysterical Sabine. Now I have seen a whole load of reactions to stress, from tears to breaking out into a sweat to constant visits to the loo to fainting spells and the rest. But dear Sabine has the best of them all. She giggles, loudly, continuously and infectiously. So all I can remember of the night pre-ultra is eating a hell load of pasta, and then indulging in prolonged bouts of the nervous giggles with Sabine and Farah. It was a great, fun way to start off the event. Girls, love you!
The next morning started really dark and early. 4 a.m., a few of us were up for a much needed breakfast of bread, jam, bananas, cookies, and oatmeal. We geared up, gathered in the holding area and took loads of photos. Well, we were not really sure we would be smiling at the end of the race, so we quickly gave our best shots right at the very beginning.
5:50 a.m, Nisha Millet, Madhu and Arvind Krishnan gave their ultra speeches, and 6 a.m, flagged off the 78K and 52K events. Heart a thumping the doob-a-doob beat, I set off for my longest ever race.
There are many upsides to doing an ultra, I discovered. The most obvious one is the sheer adventure of it all, the pushing of the human mind and body to levels beyond the fence. What a sense of achievement that alone is.
Second is the amazing people you meet. I ran past and with at least a dozen or more people whose tenacity and resilience will remain with me for a long time. My fondest memories are of a few people: Girish, a runner from Mumbai, who had the misfortune of having the bib number 007 and was running the 78K as well. Imagine being on the trail for 11 odd hours and having to endure Bond jokes/remarks being thrown at you through the entire course. Running with him gave me a steady pace and also made me a Bond girl for the first 39K.
Then there was the intermittent blurring of vision as Madhu and Rajat kept whizzing past me. They are the most motivated as well as motivating runners I have ever known. I cannot forget the immense pride and joy I felt when Rajat completed his 100.6 K.
Sabine and her hysterical giggles escalated to full fledged war screams and whoops on race day. She greeted every runner as if she had not met them for a couple of years. And trust me, nothing , no not even the Gatorade, Electral and Endurolyte tablets buoyed up the runners more than a good old dose of Sabine.
When I speak of sheer dynamism, three names spring to mind instantly: Manoj, Nitin and Satsang. All three were recovering from major injuries, were under-trained, but when put into the race zone, outperformed and outran all of us mere mortals. I kept thinking of this quote I had read a while ago “Human beings are made up of flesh and blood, and a miracle fibre called courage.” These three guys seem to be swimming in that fibre.
Sridhar was the biggest boost ever in the last lap. Looking at him sprint across the landscape made me believe in the supremacy of the mind over body.
There were many more, of course, like this aged gentleman who huffed and puffed and wheezed past Girish and me around the 25K mark. We were pretty much sure we would find him in a heap somewhere along the trail. But he finished the 52K at the top of his category. The best part of it all, when he finished his race, his son was still on the trail trying to complete his 52K.
But my love and gratitude is reserved for lovely Farah, who completed her 26K in a record time (2:14), and then cycled across my last loop with supplies and good humour to carry me across the finish line. I owe my 78K to her. As Sunil Chainani said, people like her are what keep the ultra spirit alive.
The third and immensely blessed part of an ultra is that it is like an exorcism. It cleanses, purifies and makes brightly luminous your innermost thoughts. I felt like my whole life came into sharp perspective over this run. Well, I did have plenty and more time on my hands, and the mind wandered, vroomed and whirred round and round. And as the laps got tougher, lucidity hit the wave of endorphins. Phew, I am still reeling.
This being my first ultra ever, I messed up quite a bit with my nutrition and hydration. My paranoia of having to use the portaloo kept me away from all the food at the aid stations (peanut butter sandwiches, peanuts, chips, bananas). I survived on Gatorade and 2 jujeps till the 65 K. By then I was famished, dehydrated and completely wiped out. I sent word through all the runners going towards the main podium area to get me some plain white bread. The last 13K was a picnic with watermelon, oranges and lovely, lovely white bread. With proper nutrition, who knows, I might have bettered my time to a large extent and finished strong. Oh well, lessons learnt the hard way last the longest, too.
I finished in 9:57, 33 minutes shaved off from my target time of 10:30. I could not help but get really teary eyed at the end of the race, I hugged one and all fiercely. These were the guys who had worked with me patiently for the past 6 months, helping me move from a maximum distance of 21K to an ultra distance of 78K. Madhu, Athreya, and Sabine, you guys are my ultra superstars. Thanks for all the patience and love.
After-effects: a twinge in my right foot that persisted for a couple of days, an immediate loss of appetite for a while and a small wave of depression. But I went on a beautiful long run this morning, my first training run for the Mumbai marathon on Jan 20. Manoj, Girish and I plan to do a sub-four, Inshallah!!
Sometime back, a new runner girl asked on the RFL website, “How do you guys run?” and a whippersnapper replied with “You take your right leg forward, and then your left, and then your right….” I found the post hilarious when I read it, but that is what running is all about, I guess. It ain’t easy, but it sure is simple.
My ultra adventure actually began the afternoon before the event. Carbo loading at Little Italy (where else would it be with Rajat around) was followed by a loooooooong ride to Our Native Village. As kismet would have it, we went through every road hazard, from traffic jams to street fights to accidents to getting horribly lost to of course, the inevitable flat tire. I swear running the 78K was a whole lot easier.
But reach ONV we finally did, around 8 pm and were greeted by a semi-hysterical Sabine. Now I have seen a whole load of reactions to stress, from tears to breaking out into a sweat to constant visits to the loo to fainting spells and the rest. But dear Sabine has the best of them all. She giggles, loudly, continuously and infectiously. So all I can remember of the night pre-ultra is eating a hell load of pasta, and then indulging in prolonged bouts of the nervous giggles with Sabine and Farah. It was a great, fun way to start off the event. Girls, love you!
The next morning started really dark and early. 4 a.m., a few of us were up for a much needed breakfast of bread, jam, bananas, cookies, and oatmeal. We geared up, gathered in the holding area and took loads of photos. Well, we were not really sure we would be smiling at the end of the race, so we quickly gave our best shots right at the very beginning.
5:50 a.m, Nisha Millet, Madhu and Arvind Krishnan gave their ultra speeches, and 6 a.m, flagged off the 78K and 52K events. Heart a thumping the doob-a-doob beat, I set off for my longest ever race.
There are many upsides to doing an ultra, I discovered. The most obvious one is the sheer adventure of it all, the pushing of the human mind and body to levels beyond the fence. What a sense of achievement that alone is.
Second is the amazing people you meet. I ran past and with at least a dozen or more people whose tenacity and resilience will remain with me for a long time. My fondest memories are of a few people: Girish, a runner from Mumbai, who had the misfortune of having the bib number 007 and was running the 78K as well. Imagine being on the trail for 11 odd hours and having to endure Bond jokes/remarks being thrown at you through the entire course. Running with him gave me a steady pace and also made me a Bond girl for the first 39K.
Then there was the intermittent blurring of vision as Madhu and Rajat kept whizzing past me. They are the most motivated as well as motivating runners I have ever known. I cannot forget the immense pride and joy I felt when Rajat completed his 100.6 K.
Sabine and her hysterical giggles escalated to full fledged war screams and whoops on race day. She greeted every runner as if she had not met them for a couple of years. And trust me, nothing , no not even the Gatorade, Electral and Endurolyte tablets buoyed up the runners more than a good old dose of Sabine.
When I speak of sheer dynamism, three names spring to mind instantly: Manoj, Nitin and Satsang. All three were recovering from major injuries, were under-trained, but when put into the race zone, outperformed and outran all of us mere mortals. I kept thinking of this quote I had read a while ago “Human beings are made up of flesh and blood, and a miracle fibre called courage.” These three guys seem to be swimming in that fibre.
Sridhar was the biggest boost ever in the last lap. Looking at him sprint across the landscape made me believe in the supremacy of the mind over body.
There were many more, of course, like this aged gentleman who huffed and puffed and wheezed past Girish and me around the 25K mark. We were pretty much sure we would find him in a heap somewhere along the trail. But he finished the 52K at the top of his category. The best part of it all, when he finished his race, his son was still on the trail trying to complete his 52K.
But my love and gratitude is reserved for lovely Farah, who completed her 26K in a record time (2:14), and then cycled across my last loop with supplies and good humour to carry me across the finish line. I owe my 78K to her. As Sunil Chainani said, people like her are what keep the ultra spirit alive.
The third and immensely blessed part of an ultra is that it is like an exorcism. It cleanses, purifies and makes brightly luminous your innermost thoughts. I felt like my whole life came into sharp perspective over this run. Well, I did have plenty and more time on my hands, and the mind wandered, vroomed and whirred round and round. And as the laps got tougher, lucidity hit the wave of endorphins. Phew, I am still reeling.
This being my first ultra ever, I messed up quite a bit with my nutrition and hydration. My paranoia of having to use the portaloo kept me away from all the food at the aid stations (peanut butter sandwiches, peanuts, chips, bananas). I survived on Gatorade and 2 jujeps till the 65 K. By then I was famished, dehydrated and completely wiped out. I sent word through all the runners going towards the main podium area to get me some plain white bread. The last 13K was a picnic with watermelon, oranges and lovely, lovely white bread. With proper nutrition, who knows, I might have bettered my time to a large extent and finished strong. Oh well, lessons learnt the hard way last the longest, too.
I finished in 9:57, 33 minutes shaved off from my target time of 10:30. I could not help but get really teary eyed at the end of the race, I hugged one and all fiercely. These were the guys who had worked with me patiently for the past 6 months, helping me move from a maximum distance of 21K to an ultra distance of 78K. Madhu, Athreya, and Sabine, you guys are my ultra superstars. Thanks for all the patience and love.
After-effects: a twinge in my right foot that persisted for a couple of days, an immediate loss of appetite for a while and a small wave of depression. But I went on a beautiful long run this morning, my first training run for the Mumbai marathon on Jan 20. Manoj, Girish and I plan to do a sub-four, Inshallah!!
Sometime back, a new runner girl asked on the RFL website, “How do you guys run?” and a whippersnapper replied with “You take your right leg forward, and then your left, and then your right….” I found the post hilarious when I read it, but that is what running is all about, I guess. It ain’t easy, but it sure is simple.
Monday, December 10, 2007
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!!!!
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!!!!
Saturday, December 1, 2007
Fasting and Feasting
Nutrition and a good night's sleep, there cannot be enough stress on these two ingredients for a good mindblowing run.
I remember the first time I attempted a 32 K, around three months back, along the absolutely sultry trails of GKVK. A dinner of a cupful of rice and a tiny portion of veggies rested lightly in my stomach, I had decided to stay up all night watching an ancient kung-fu movie, had drunk hardly a litre of water over 24 hours, I was dressed in thick cotton track pants and a T-shirt for the run, I was definitely destined to keel over and die; and guess what, I did so quite successfully. The sun beat down mercilessly as well, and suddenly I was seeing mirages of huge vats of hot chocolate fudge, my breathing was more labored than a three year old solving an intense 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle, and the run simply stank, stank, stank!!!
I have never made those horrendous mistakes again. I eat like a pig; I would rather eat like a pig than run like a sumo wrestler. I dress light, I have steadily got on to the Climalite bandwagon, I sleep like a 2 month old baby. Actually I picked up that last habit from my favorite running partner, a gorgeous German lady, Sabine. As most Germans go, she is a disciplined little girl.The very whiff of a long run sends her scurrying off to bed at the crack of dusk. 5 pm, she has had her huge pasta dinner, and by 6 pm she has tucked herself into bed and is in la-la snoreland soon after. Mighty admirable! I still cannot manage the 6 pm lights out, but I honestly try to get the 8 hours of much needed slumber.
I am fixating on food and sleep today cause I saw what the lack of it can do to even the most seasoned of runners. Athreya, another of my constant and much admired running partners, went out on the town last night, tanked up till 4 a.m. this morning, and whoopsie daiseee (lord,does anybody use that expression anymore), was ready to run a 36K with us at 7 a.m. He managed just fine for the first 23 K and then his poor abused body just crashed out! He was nauseous, had a side stitch, his left leg cramped. Now he is the most effortless runner I have ever had the pleasure of seeing in a marathon. So it was quite weird seeing him this morning so down and out. We were in an isolated part of GKVK, with no mobile phones, and nothing to drink but Gatorade. We did stumble along and manage to complete the loop to finish a 31K, but it was quite a nightmare run for him.
It just drives home the fact that it is so essential to listen to your body. Alcohol severely dehydrates the body and that definitely is not a good start for a long distance run. Now there are articles aplenty on how beneficial alcohol is for runners. And of course, the story of the ultramarathon man, Dean Kanzares, having started his career of running after an all-night drinking binge is being totuted as the reason to indulge some more, but they definitely do mean that you limit your consumption to a glass or two.
A lesson to learn there for the ultra. Stay awaaaay from the bottle. And if you do go for an extra tipple or two the night before the run, make sure you eat plenty and hydrate yourself throughout the night.
It was our last big run before the ultra, a bit of a disaster, but if every run was a runaway success, how would we learn what not to do. A teeny bit wiser now, we are going to begin tapering off.
Tomorrow is a scenic run around the Bellandur Lake. A pleasure run for me, there will be a zillion and more Runners for Life meeting up early to do various distances. Looking forward to just running for the sake of running. Will post the details on that tomorrow.
I remember the first time I attempted a 32 K, around three months back, along the absolutely sultry trails of GKVK. A dinner of a cupful of rice and a tiny portion of veggies rested lightly in my stomach, I had decided to stay up all night watching an ancient kung-fu movie, had drunk hardly a litre of water over 24 hours, I was dressed in thick cotton track pants and a T-shirt for the run, I was definitely destined to keel over and die; and guess what, I did so quite successfully. The sun beat down mercilessly as well, and suddenly I was seeing mirages of huge vats of hot chocolate fudge, my breathing was more labored than a three year old solving an intense 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle, and the run simply stank, stank, stank!!!
I have never made those horrendous mistakes again. I eat like a pig; I would rather eat like a pig than run like a sumo wrestler. I dress light, I have steadily got on to the Climalite bandwagon, I sleep like a 2 month old baby. Actually I picked up that last habit from my favorite running partner, a gorgeous German lady, Sabine. As most Germans go, she is a disciplined little girl.The very whiff of a long run sends her scurrying off to bed at the crack of dusk. 5 pm, she has had her huge pasta dinner, and by 6 pm she has tucked herself into bed and is in la-la snoreland soon after. Mighty admirable! I still cannot manage the 6 pm lights out, but I honestly try to get the 8 hours of much needed slumber.
I am fixating on food and sleep today cause I saw what the lack of it can do to even the most seasoned of runners. Athreya, another of my constant and much admired running partners, went out on the town last night, tanked up till 4 a.m. this morning, and whoopsie daiseee (lord,does anybody use that expression anymore), was ready to run a 36K with us at 7 a.m. He managed just fine for the first 23 K and then his poor abused body just crashed out! He was nauseous, had a side stitch, his left leg cramped. Now he is the most effortless runner I have ever had the pleasure of seeing in a marathon. So it was quite weird seeing him this morning so down and out. We were in an isolated part of GKVK, with no mobile phones, and nothing to drink but Gatorade. We did stumble along and manage to complete the loop to finish a 31K, but it was quite a nightmare run for him.
It just drives home the fact that it is so essential to listen to your body. Alcohol severely dehydrates the body and that definitely is not a good start for a long distance run. Now there are articles aplenty on how beneficial alcohol is for runners. And of course, the story of the ultramarathon man, Dean Kanzares, having started his career of running after an all-night drinking binge is being totuted as the reason to indulge some more, but they definitely do mean that you limit your consumption to a glass or two.
A lesson to learn there for the ultra. Stay awaaaay from the bottle. And if you do go for an extra tipple or two the night before the run, make sure you eat plenty and hydrate yourself throughout the night.
It was our last big run before the ultra, a bit of a disaster, but if every run was a runaway success, how would we learn what not to do. A teeny bit wiser now, we are going to begin tapering off.
Tomorrow is a scenic run around the Bellandur Lake. A pleasure run for me, there will be a zillion and more Runners for Life meeting up early to do various distances. Looking forward to just running for the sake of running. Will post the details on that tomorrow.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
