“4 mins walk, 1 min run or 3 mins walk, 2 mins run”
I started seriously running when I was 22. I was in love with a guy who liked running so I attempted to run with him. To be accurate, I ran many steps (kms!) behind him. He’d often meet me on his way back after circling the Melbourne Zoo while I’d just be making my way into the underpass leading to it. We even trained together for a 10 km run, but he broke up with me just before Run Day. That year, 2008, I would officially run eight 10km runs and numerous training ones.
I would eat a giant bowl of pasta the night before, pedal my sports bike over to near Federation Square, find a public toilet for a final nervous pee, and join thousands of people to be flagged off for a grand Sunday morning run that wound around the Melbourne Cricket Ground. The ninth kilometre was almost always uphill! My best time that year was a proud 50 minutes: 5 minutes per km! The results of the last run I ever did in Melbourne was printed in The Age, Australia’s daily newspaper, it was my worst time all year: 57 minutes.
To this day, I have a couple of faded t-shirts from those runs. My runner’s chest number painted onto the surface, is entirely frayed. The red t-shirt now leaves little crumbs on the floor when I pull it out of the washing machine. Even the reflector patches on the back have faded rendering the garment almost entirely useless. Thirteen years later, I still wear it as a sort of youthful testimony for when my heart and legs were sprightlier than now.
Frankly, I ran like a maniac in 2008 largely to manage a broken heart. What I got out of it was muscular thighs and intense shin splints. By the end of those 12 months, I was banned from running by my physiotherapist who legit doubled up as the official physio for the Indian Cricket Team while they were on tour in Australia. I consulted him for free since he was a friend’s father. He told me strictly that I was only allowed to swim, cycle, or do yoga for at least a year.
It would be seven more years till I ran, semi-seriously again, out in the open. Defying my physiotherapist’s orders, I had tried running when I moved back home but was unfailingly chased by street dogs every morning. I then became a journalist with the most erratic timings and the rest, as they say, is history! I guess all I had to do was wait till 2020, voluntarily quit my job, get locked down at home due to a global pandemic, and feel some strange motivation to text a random number on the internet.
On August 27, 2020, I texted a man: “Hi…I am curious if Chennai Runners Bessie chapter is still meeting through this pandemic? I’d like to sign up to run…”
“Hi Sowmiya, we aren’t meeting for runs since the govt guidelines does not permit. But in general individuals run on their own near their neighbourhood, where they feel it is safe. We will be glad to welcome you…”
I had not left my apartment in months, so this exchange was rather thrilling. A stranger was welcoming me into a secret neighbourhood running group. Perhaps only the trees know our secret?
“Have you been running before?”
“I used to run in college. I have to admit I am pretty unfit, but I want to get back to some decent level of running.”
“You can try this: 4 mins walk, 1 min run, or 3 mins walk, 2 mins run. Twice or thrice a week. Depending on how you feel, we can increase the duration of the run.”
Depending on how you feel, he had said. For most of September last year, I felt like I was dying! I started slow, strictly kept to the 4:1 strategy and didn’t even attempt the 3:2 strategy. I built momentum slowly, I congratulated myself for small triumphs more than I really should have, and I shamelessly considered myself a serious runner once more. But, just for context, I started thinking about running for the same reason I ran throughout 2008. I was miserable! The pandemic had left me lonely, irritated and with no comprehension over when international travel will ever open for me to see my parents.
So, I took to running with a sort of vengeance. It helped tire me out, I wasn’t crying at night anymore, well, I was crying while out on a run, so the hours were just advanced really. I was also sleeping through the night which was great since I had convinced myself I was 70 given I was waking up every morning at 4 AM to use the toilet. I was also starting to learn to stretch properly after every run, something I did not do properly when I was 22!
As the months wore on, I religiously ran the same route around Besant Nagar. I made friends with the man selling tempered glass, a stray dog would run 150 metres with me at the same spot every day, and I’d use the road reflectors on Blue Cross Road as motivation to finish the loop. My phone acquired a running playlist with mostly Vijay sir and CardiB songs and the 4:1 strategy was replaced by complete frikkin kilometres.
Through the second wave, I ran every day like the Chennai Runners’ person told me “…in general individuals run on their own near their neighbourhood, where they feel it is safe.” It was definitely safe, there was never anyone around, except at the rice batter shop which I was convinced was hosting raging underground parties. Though I ducked behind a tree if I ever saw a police patrol vehicle.
Every day I noticed the same sights: my security guard Prem and his Nepali gang, a black cow, an old woman sitting on her haunches, three security guards chatting outside a shuttered jewellery store, a nervous pet waiting to be taken into a dog clinic, a man with only a gate for company, and delivery workers hanging outside a bakery waiting for fresh bread.
I ran past the same walker who wore double knee-caps, past the house where my high school crush lives, past a bunch of boys playing badminton, and past a small temple which always had at least one devotee visiting. Everything seemed dark and lifeless for weeks. Yet, I enjoyed the solitude, my mask hanging from my chin, my ears blaring with Tamil film music.
Next month will be a year since I texted a stranger who generously gave me running tips on Whatsapp and started me on this journey. Now, there are 15 songs on my Running playlist largely dominated by films that star Actor Vijay.
By the time Vaathi Coming is through, I have breezed through the 2km mark, just as Arivu sings ‘Muttal oru mannar aana yenna thozhar?’ I am pumping my fist in the air in full public view as I cross 2.8km and as Vijay asks Samantha to come live with him in an Instagram village, I have hit 3.5km. Today, I ran 4.2km in extreme humidity, and primarily as research for this piece. On non-humid days (aka Bangalore) I am capable of running up to 5km without collapsing. This is still half the distance for my 22-year-old self, but quite a smashing achievement for my almost 36-year-old self.
This evening, I ran past four sets of couples in Besant Nagar most of them hiding behind very mediocre foliage. I thought to myself: I wish I was that woman snuggled up to her boyfriend enjoying an orange ice cream, but instead I am this woman looking like she is about to die any second!
Cardi B blared from my earphones: “Yeah baby, I like it like that!”
(PS: Today’s 4.2 km was solely for research purposes and was not pleasurable in the least!)
