Love in Times of Run

“Shibu, Group G is where all the good looking girls are.”

Thomas’ message a day before the big run was the one that caused a flutter in my heart. At last, after all the years of train rides when every time you boarded and looked at the names in the passenger list, it invariably contained a list of women almost all of them 60 plus. Even before the train left the platform, you would hear, “Beta, mujhe upper berth mila hai…” and before she could complete, I would happily give up my lower berth and jump straight on to my goal upstairs, cursing my luck. But the desire to be close to pretty women never died as I transitioned from train to plane. But luck never smiled on me there as well. But now after 50 years of wait, fortune smiled on me…running the Mumbai Marathon 2015 with babes all around!

So, at 3.30am, I got up even before the alarm went off, took a shower and shaved…can you believe it? Normally on a holiday, I love to skip my bath and here I was ready at 4 am with my best YSL cologne sprayed in abundance. Off to the run for fun.

I reached the venue well before time and stood in a long queue to take a leak before the 21 km run started. Startled by a young lady standing in the men’s line and fighting with the guard there insisting that she would use the men’s loo “kyonki ladies queue toh aagey badh hi nahin rahi….” Then commeth the hour, commeth the man…the run started….for me, with my doctor ruling out running with a history of spinal injuries, it was walking but walking at a brisk pace. And lo what did I see…

You heard as if an army muttered;
And the muttering grew to a grumbling;
And the grumbling grew to a mighty rumbling;
And out of the houses the women came tumbling.
Great women, small , lean women, brawny women,
Beautiful women, big fat women, tall women, short women,
Grave old plodders, gay young friskers,
Mothers, Aunts, cousins,
Cocking pony tails and rainbow nails,
Families by tens and dozens,
Mothers, sisters, mothers-in-law and wives –

Truly a colourful sight, indeed.  Very delightful, indeed, to say the least. But I had a task to complete and a few young and old women to beat. Distracted, but not distraught, I started my Long March to CST through crowds that were running, jogging, walking….the first leg was the crowded walk across the sea link. With sunlight an hour away, darkness hid the beauties from my sight. To add to it, was the crowd of onlookers, it was so much that it reminded me of Xerxes’ army in 300 and I was Leonidas, the Spartan, the handsome, the brave heart standing out, walking all alone battling the Persian beauties.

As I crossed the sea and turned for Worli village, I met her. With the sun peeping out slowly and the light blue hue all around I saw a young girl in her 30s…by the time you are in 50s everyone seems very fair and young. She wore a grey T with a Swoosh and a black bottom till just below her knee. As she crossed me, she just smiled…..’twas a slight simple smile but to me it felt like a beckoning call. As she surged ahead, I upped my speed and caught up with her in the next 200 metres. As I drew near, she smiled again. A friendly smile from her, but ‘twas enough to give me the wings I needed to fly. Happy was I for sure!

An old jungle saying that Walkers can’t be Runners came true and she again moved ahead and gave a sign to catch up, catch me if you can... But by then  I was charged and started walking faster and faster. I could see her meandering through the crowds…you couldn’t miss her…I couldn’t miss her…..Once again I caught up with her and once again she smiled….remembered Dilip Kumar singing Nain lad gayi hain jiya ma kasak hoibe kari… the next 500 metres or so were memorable….matching step to step I kept pace never looking at time or the hundreds of others around.

Around the 10 km mark, I remembered another woman, the woman who had run all the races with me all the past 25 years, the woman, who till yesterday believed, I would be doing the Dream Run of 7 kms only…reluctantly she agreed to my going for the half marathon but with a condition…keep me informed from time to time. It was 7.30am by then and my hand went to the pouch and pulled out the Kala Jamun or simply Black Berry. I keyed in my password, searched for D and texted, “10 done all fine”. This not only brought me back to reality but slowed my pace down. As I looked around she was nowhere to be seen.

Dil hai ki maantaa nahin…since when have we men listened to reason and so began my quest to search the Runner Woman.  I walked and walked, I sped and sped, overtook people by the dozens in fact by the tons but she was not to be found. As Gilbert O’Sullivan sang ‘Alone Again Naturally”. Walking ahead, around Copper Chimney, I met a colleague from office. She was jogging slowly at a neat pace and here I was walking. As I came abreast I raised my right hand to wave and she gave a knowing smile. She would have, however, felt slightly down with an oldie walking and trying to overtake her running. I must have hurt her ego somewhere, so, instantaneously, she changed gear and went ahead.  

I was in the race just to prove to myself that I could do half marathon within 3 hours and 15 minutes which was the time allotted as per age category. I wasn’t racing against anyone. And so I went ahead with a slim hope of seeing the woman in grey if I increased my speed. In doing so, I again caught up with my colleague and waved to her again. She gave me a surprised look and shot past again. Within 500 metres I caught up with her again and then she gave up and let me go. Then came the next and only hill…Pedder Road where everyone started slowing down but my pace remained constant which meant I started overtaking people. This is when I met…

No, not her, but another lady in black with a beautiful check bandana. She too gave me a friendly smile and we started talking as she ran and I walked. By the time Babulnath Temple came, unable to keep pace, she smiled and signaled me to go ahead. This gave me time to pull out my phone and send a text to D…”15 done 6 to go all fine”.  This is where I just took off and walked faster than ever before. I was well aware that my time was good so wanted to set a benchmark for myself and the speed was by all standards near running.  Still she was haunting me…will I see her now or maybe after the run. 

Flying down the last stretch as never before, I clocked 2 hours 42 minutes 15 seconds. I didn’t raise my hands as I crossed the line but put my hands in the pouch once more and dialed home. D picked up and I shouted, “Completed and feeling great.” She said well done and within a minute came a text from the Most Beautiful Girl in the World, “Proud of you Baba”.

Post Script

Today about 55,000 runners took to the early morning run at the Mumbai Marathon. Remembered my two half marathons of 2015 and 2016 when I was happy to cross the finishing line in sub-three hours of grueling walk. This was not an exceptional timing for the true runners but for a man in his fifties and walking instead of running, it was something and, more importantly, it gave me a sense of accomplishment and one more check box ticked. The bad part was that after both the runs, I had to make another dash to my orthopaedic surgeon for I had stretched my back beyond its limits and was asked to take complete bed rest for a week or so. The love at home then declared, “ now that you have done two half-marathons, no more hero-panti and marathons going forward. I can’t have you bed-ridden anymore.” I smiled and said,”One more please. Next year will try and do the full marathon and then hang up my shoes.” “Whaaaat!! No way!” The Chief Justice of the Supreme Court had spoken and Pheidippides lost the Battle of Marathon- another chapter was added to the Greek Tragedies.

This is a repost from 2015. The post script and pictures added are new additions.

SS