The Missing Point

I have stopped running. For the time being. The holidays are here and it is time to indulge.

But just like when you suddenly quit something addictive, it has come with its own set of withdrawal symptoms. For starters, my day suddenly found an excess two hours. In the first week or so, I felt super active at around 8PM and didnt know what to do with my arms and legs. I have since decided to put them to the task of lying on the couch. I have never received so much complaint from them, not even while I was running.

I am also eating a lot more. If it is not on my plate, I have taken to salivating. And if it is not in my stomach, I have taken to growling like a really bad ventriloquist. Really bad because everybody around can figure out where the noise is coming from. But like a really good actor, I go on pretending like nothing is wrong. I may have a future in extreme comedy.

My sleeping patterns have redesigned themselves as well. Unlike before, I am able to sleep as soon as my head hits the pillow. But unlike before, it is also accompanied by live 70MM colorful three-dimensional visions. And also unlike before, I do get up in the middle of the night for a midnight snacking. Well, it is not really snacking, it is more like having a double-storey burger with fries on the side. The other day, I turned up at Zouk-out at 1230 after a late sumptuous dinner, and then I ate two chilli-burgers before licking my fingers clean. They shut down the shop shortly thereafter which is of course completely unrelated to the two burgers I ate there but that is besides the point. The point, as my faithful readers have repeatedly pointed out, has never failed to miss me whenever I write. Sometimes, I feel I can hear its mocking chuckle as it passes me but it could very well be my stomach and so I hurry up to the nearest cafe before it shuts itself down.

Life is not easy and I continue to strive to overcome these challenges that riddle my path to pointless greatness. Meanwhile, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all of you. Wish the coming year is easier on you than mine has been.

Run Beta Run # 4

Many a weeks of practice and a few injury-induced drop-outs later, I found myself running at Penang Bridge Marathon....by myself and seventeen thousand other strangers. I reluctantly decided against a road-trip and barely made it to the Saturday morning flight 32 minutes before the departure (my personal best). Predictably, I forgot to pack running gel, earphones, cap and socks among other non-essentials. Spent the major part of the morning in procuring the afore-mentioned. Also collected the running kit (Had forgotten the registration slip as well but my iPhone came in handy as I flashed the email confirmation on the screen). The queue to the half-marathon consisted of just me. Clearly, folks were either committed or having fun. There were not many serious amateurs (Lionel - Thanks for inspiring me into coining this term) around.

Then the realization. I WAS IN MALAYSIA. No even better. I WAS AT GEORGETOWN. One of my favorite destinations. So I did the usual. Went upto the monkey beach, took a dip, threw pebbles at a couple baby monkeys (Somebody had to straighten them up), ate at Nando's and spent the major part of the afternoon and the evening sleeping. You see, my run was to start at 3:30AM in the morning and I had little time in trying to hit an entirely different timezone.

The hotel group coach was due to leave at 2:00AM. A gastrointestinal urgency made sure that I could make it only by 2:16AM. A Hongkong dude pointedly showed his watch to me as the words escaped him. Or he thought I was incapable of understanding English. I found it insulting but apologized nonetheless. The van started moving. An overly friendly French dude engaged everybody in a conversation. I followed suit and asked around for target timings. It turned out that the HK dude was targeting a 1:20 something. I thought he looked down upon the rest of us as he said that. When I was asked, I said that I normally didnt run a half-marathon but I did clock a 3:04 when I ran the full at Richmond, Virginia a few days ago (This incidentally is my superboss's timing). He found new respect for me and exchanged running tips with me for the rest of the journey. I must have added a few minutes to his target timing.

I had my first gel about 15 minutes before the start. Started the race from the back to gain psychological advantage of overtaking (Dont I love such tactical masturbation). Soon I realized that it was more than offset by having to manoeuvre around, especially, some of the kids who were alternately sprinting or standing still. Some had decided to unzip themselves of performance anxiety on the side (I was glad I took that trip to the loo beforehand). I was feeling good and hadnt allowed anybody to overtake me so far except two Kenyan women (Their race actually started 15 minutes after ours. Who says women arent better than men?). Covered the first 10kms easily in 49 minutes despite the bridge incline (I would guess it at around 15 degrees) before having my second gel. By now, breaking the 2hour barrier looked within reach. Overtook an old uncle. Now, I had a lot of space as the better runners were far ahead and I had left all others behind. I told myself - herein lies mediocrity. Another 5kms rolled under as I did the mental math of the remaining distance and the time left.

At around the 16km mark, I started struggling. The incline was steeper, the wind against and the breathing hard to come by. I slowed down to stabilize the breathing. People were overtaking me now but I was helpless in doing anything about it. Tried to busy myself by looking around at the blackness of the ocean and the partial moon upstairs. To boost my ego, I conjured up a new record in being one of the few who have crossed this bridge on foot, by car and by plane. The old uncle had just overtaken me.

Tried to have my third gel of the morning but it wouldnt go down my throat, not without promise of serious retching after. By now, I was crawling. The 20km mark flashed by. I took my speed up a notch but was pretty much stopped in my tracks by another flyover and this one was even steeper. I must have made a miserable picture as I crossed the finishing line. I kicked myself as the clock showed 2:14.

My target time was 2:15 and I made it within that. But I could have paced myself better. Or may be not. As Vincent says in Gattaca - I guess I didnt leave anything for the way back.

Run Beta Run # 3

Given the strong and polarizing opinions (On and off the blog) on application of game-theory to manipulate the body into submission, I am laying down some hopefully funny ways of doing so. The usual disclaimers apply (I may not have tried all/ any of them; I get no pleasure, humanitarian or sadistic, if they do or don’t work for you; List was current at the time of printing; Subject to change without notice; Postage will be paid by the addressee; Parental guidance recommended; Colors may fade; Slippery when wet; Coffee is served hot; Objects in the rear view mirror appear closer than they are; Real life may suck):-

1. Run as far as possible before the body wakes up. Ideally, run towards an area where the only way back is by foot. If it’s raining, even better.

2. Body loves inertia. Trick it into believing that the inertia state is defined as rotating knees. Do this by running continuously for some time. Thereafter, allow it the pleasure of staying in inertia forever.

3. Body also loves procrastination. Define procrastination as delaying the next break.

4. Don’t carry more than the minimum change required to buy a drink to avoid the possibility of taking a cab back home.

5. Before the run, don’t do any stretches or any physical activity that is more intense than what is absolutely necessary to stay alive. This is so as to avoid giving the body any signal about the impending run. Thereafter, let it play catch up.

6. If the body is still not budging, perform some stretches to trick it into believing that the run is over. As soon as it relaxes, run away. You are allowed to chuckle to add to its confusion.

7. While running, don’t give the body any idea as to where it is or how long the remaining run is. Avoid looking at landmarks or the watch. Focus on the rolling 5-feet stretch of ground immediately ahead of you as if it were the last thing connecting you to this planet. If possible, develop amnesia.

8. Develop the ability to call upon an out-of-body experience whenever you want it. Have a well-deserved rest up above while your body toils below. Whip it away while you are at it.

9. For severe pain, do a Joey and mentally calculate the cubic root of 13 down to 7 decimal points. For unbearable pain, try to spot the largest prime number in the vicinity.

Run Beta Run # 2

I am convinced about the duality of mind and body. In fact, I have a feeling that they started off at the same place set way back in time but one has evolved much more than the other. Humor me if I ask you to imagine the body as a separate specie altogether; one which is far down below in the evolutionary chain, one that doesn’t even have a language and only responds to physical signals. In fact, as I write this, I am convinced that my body is none the wiser still for it is blissfully unaware of this manipulating conspiracy.

No. I am not smoking dope. In the past month or so, I have experienced this in action. I have cajoled, conned, and coerced my body into partial submission. Partial because I have not mastered the art yet.

As I tried to increase the running distance, my body started to harass me with varying and irritating difficulties. It was either the knee or the shin or the lungs. I have come to know of more scientific terms for these troubles in the past month than I care. Firstly, all these terms are glamorous. I mean how cool it can be to admit that I have an ITBS (Iliotibial Band Syndrome) condition or Runner’s Knee or shin-splints. Glory aside, it did get irritating that I was simply not being able to move up from the 13.2km mark.

So the first thing I did was to give up on lapping. Instead, I have since started running up and down the East Coast Park (ECP). It’s an 18km round trip. The first time I gave it a go, I easily covered the first 9kms in an hour. I stopped over for a drink from a vending machine and then my body simply refused to budge. After multiple starts-stops-starts, I somehow got back to my place in 2:40 hours. Yes. You got the math right – it took me a good 1:40 to cover the same 9kms back. I might as well have been crawling. It didn’t help that during one of my very special moments of vulnerability, I was spotted by a colleague. Damn.

Two days of soreness and self-loathing later, I tried for a second time. Everything was going smoothly till my right knee gave way. After 1:30 hours, I decided to take a cab instead.

Some more days, soreness and self-loathing later, it was now the turn of the shins to splint. Only metaphorically of course. Total running time – only 40 mins.

I seriously considered giving up running except for one side-benefit that I hadn’t bargained for – my squash game had improved by leaps and bounds. I was still losing as many games as before but at least it wasn’t because I was running out of gas. This coupled with something somebody mentioned somewhere propelled me on. Here is how the saying goes – The body gets used to what you give to it.

So, I decided to send the body some strong signals by adhering to simple rules – a) I have to run up and down the ECP and b) There will only be one stop for drinks. The game-theory and past history suggested that my body would laugh at my face at the mention of these rules. So, the only way was through demonstration. And demonstrate I did. I am now at 18km covered in about 2:05 including the break. The body has internalized the message well. It knows that the only way out of that running track is through running that distance and the faster it runs, the quicker it will be back at the couch in front of the TV. Now, there are no aching knees or splint shins. It’s almost like how one trains a wild but dumb animal through a combination of carrots and sticks. For me, sticks are working well. For the time being anyway.

Next – An 8 hour-long road trip to Penang, Malaysia and a half-marathon run at Penang Bridge. I have invented a term for it – Motorathlon.

Run Beta Run # 1

In the past month and a half, when I didnt post any article, my hit count has more than doubled. Taking the hint, ideally, I should not be posting at all. Instead, I should just monetize my blog and make easy money. But I have been inspired otherwise in more than one way. More on that later. Meanwhile, if you are real people, please join my sparse but exclusive followers list and/or leave comments. If it is too much pressure, dont run away and at least continue to visit this space.

So, I have started running again. Not sure why as yet which is quite ironic because just recently I totally psycho-analyzed a friend who had taken up running after investing a life-time into cultivating a vain, shallow and incoherent life style consisting of largely drinking and eating, in that order (Thats a typical Malay for you anyway). He was also not sure why he had suddenly started running. Roles have reversed now. Thankfully, so far he has restricted himself to providing me with running tips only. Quite likely, he is subtly passing me the message that one should always mind one's business. Message taken and would be ignored only selectively.

The first day (or more like night), I ran for 4.4 kms or 2 rounds of a lap which was carefully measured the next week. It told me many things. First and foremost was that I am not fit at all. Second was that it is very difficult to run without music (You see my iPhone was playing the same song over and over again and I had to switch it off. Later I realized that it was a simple case of changing the setting to 'Dont loop' but that was in future). Third and the most important thing is how still your mind can be when your whole body is screaming in cacaphonic agony. Your legs are at a breaking point. Your heart is about to burst. Your hands are shaking uncontrollably. But your mind is hell-bent on trying to achieve that harmony in this chaos. It is focussed on breathing in and breathing out in a rhythmic manner that you can use to tell the time. Pretty soon, nothing matters except that next step that springs from the previous one.

The second evening, I improved upon my distance. I was at 8.8 kms or four rounds of the same lap. The first two laps were easy. It also helped that whenever I felt like giving up, I ran into small crowds and I felt compelled to show off my stamina. I actually increased my speed then. It was only by the third round that I was able to attain that stillness of the mind again. And it felt so good that I continued on for another round after that. Funnily, I couldnt sleep at all that night and the following day, I could have used clutches.

As I write this now, I have increased the distance to 13.2 kms covered in about an hour and a half. It could have been that many kms but really, I still think in terms of number of laps which stand at 6. I really think that if I had chosen a bigger lap in the beginning, I could have covered more. Looks like, I am the victim of my own underachieving myopic vision. I need to find another bigger stretch.

Now, that my breathing is pretty much on auto-pilot mode, I am also thinking of including music in the mix. Tomorrow, I will put together a playlist of angry, anti-establishment rock songs. The body is evil and it needs to be punished.