Saturday, March 22, 2014

The 'running' mind

12 kilometers. Decided. Few quick waist turnarounds. Few push-ups. Started. Little steps. Loose body. Part over waist swung. People joined. So many pointed elbows. Too many half closed fists. And folded arms. 15 of us. All running. Talking. Laughing. 


15 turned to 5 by one kilometer. Calves tight; Head swinging; Vision straight. Breathing audible. Two men crossed. Faster. Adrenaline rushed. Speed rose. Brain resisted.No. No. No. It's a Marathon. Don't react. Slow down a bit. Think: It's not about speed. It's all about creed. Save your strength. Cut down few breaths.


7 kilometers left. Saw many quit. Saw many smiling. Rows of sweat beads on forehead. Dry throat. Numb feet. Uncomfortable heart beats. Unending road. Target, kilometers away. A familiar signboard smiles. Gives an idea of distance. Still too far. Doubts surfaced. 5 have turned to 3. Farther than had thought. Unsure. Shall run till 10th KM. Next time I shall make it 12 or 15. No. Set targets. Of counting upto thousand. Achieved. Lied to myself. About the distance. Set a new target. Get hold of breath. Hold it and release slowly. Save some strength. Eluded the brain. Bore the pain. Told it to count the breaths. Told it to think of the old beloved. Told it to count the potholes. Told it to create a story. Let it respond with anything but 'Stop!'. Set my head. Kept moving. May meet mud. May pass heaven. Nothing shall stop. Nothing shall bind. Ah! the foot is aching. The heel is cracking. The sun shines. A passerby smiles. 



The last mile. The toughest. Longest of all. Brain turns hyperactive. Speaks loudly. 'Shall take rest for a moment. Shall wet throat. Shall slow down a bit. Shall stop at all and quit'. 'No. No. No. No 'shalls'. Run. Promise you won't quit. Promise you'll run till the last drop of life. Promise the heart. Run.Just run. Ignore 'shalls'. Lie to yourself. Held you head high. Set the heart free.' Eyebrows strained. Vision focused. Eyes narrowed. A mantra. A chant. Run till you die. A madness. To run. Neither for medals nor for titles. 


The aim is here. I can see it. Joyfully. Feet separated from the brain. Forgot everything. Looked at the finish line. The aim smiled at feet like an old beloved. Speed rose. Every drop of strength coalesced. A lightning of energy struck. Heated body. Sheer joy. Ecstasy. Kept running. Ah! only two of us. Ah! the head is spinning. Every joint paining. Breathed Fully. Calmed. Looked back at track. Smiled. Laughed. Laughed harder. And said to myself "The way was long." An old coach responded "And so is life." I pondered. He made sense.