The images of all those super-fit people on TV crossing the finish line at the Mumbai Marathon, looking exhausted but jubilant, reminded me that yet another year has passed and I am nowhere close to starting my fitness regimen.
The images of all those super-fit people on TV crossing the finish line at the Mumbai Marathon, looking exhausted but jubilant, reminded me that yet another year has passed and I am nowhere close to starting my fitness regimen. No Mumbai marathon for me this year. But, I have told myself that I will be there next year. God promise. Don't get me wrong.
I have already made peace with my 105-kg weight and my inner thin man has stopped his struggling-to-come-out routine. If he is not dead, he is definitely comatose because it has been years since he complained. What is worrying me is that it is time to make my annual trip to the Garhwal hills of Uttarakhand, and I am woefully out of shape to trudge those mandatory miles up snaking mountain paths to visit relatives.
I could see a leaner and more muscular me, casually clambering up those mountains
Few years back, we had a puja in my native place. A cousin from Delhi and I were entrusted with the responsibility of escorting the pujari home. What we did not know is that his village, aptly called Sann (as in Hindi Sann kar degi sansani), was perched atop a mountain and involved a punishably steep two-kilometer hike. There was a foot-wide ledge on a rocky outcrop that we had to cross. Even, as we stepped gingerly on it, we tried hard to not look at the 11-storey fall below.
The 65-year-old pujari, an army veteran, not only crossed nimbly ahead of us, he also added insult to the injury by laughing at us.
Then the climb began. Every five minutes we would ask him to stop while we caught our breath. On our way, we crossed some teenaged girls with wicker baskets on their backs. They stared openly. One said something to the others and all of them sniggered. The pujari swore at them, but could not hold back a smile.
The pujari told us that his house was just round the bend. After, a mini-eternity that comprised many other mini-eternities, the bend would reveal another bend that would take us another mini-eternity to climb.
When we finally reached home, after a three-hour trudge, everyone had a nice laugh at our expense. I decided then, that I would build endurance through running. I could see a leaner, more muscular and energetic me, casually clambering up those mountains. I was going to climb all the way to the top and take in the scenery with eyes of chipped granite.
Hasn't happened so far. But next year, I do the marathon followed by the mountains. No running away from it this time.
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