Feb 23, 2024 – 9:53 AM
I wrote this title first in my diary— it was ready, four years ago. But now… I’m not even sure I deserve to use it.
After my last Tata Ultra 35 km run in February 2020, I haven’t done a long run! I’ve managed just a handful of 10 km runs — mostly to prove to myself that I still can.
Right now, I’m feeling feverish, with a blocked nose.
If this worsens… can I still run? And not just any run — for Tata Ultra 2024 — just two days away.
The route winds through the beautiful, yet punishing terrain of Lonavla. It starts around 2 AM when it’s cold— and I have a history of blackouts when I have fever.
I walked into my room and looked at my medal hanger. Fourteen medals from 21+ km runs, and five from 10-km runs. All from years ago. Proof that I had done it once. Maybe I can still do it.
Now the title feels off, since I really didn’t keep running in these past four years. Something I used to do — almost every day — just stopped.
If I want to give excuses, here goes:
First, I can blame COVID — two full years, gone.
Then came knee pain, ankle pain, and a locked neck and shoulder.
And last year? I focused on flexibility. My legs always had tight muscles — yoga helped a lot.
But beyond that… I want to look deeper.
I want to ask myself honestly :
Why did I start running?
Why did I keep running?
What made me stop?
And… What is still pushing me now?
Indeed a good thought to have just before the run that is trying to intimidate me.
“ Do you remember your 1st run ? “
The very first memory of me running
One of my earliest memories of running begins in primary school, in the army quarters of Allahabad. When the afternoon bell rang — just after the national anthem — I would dash straight home.
I still remember those streets, and me racing back home with other kids. And the joy of reaching back to Amma (My mother) after a long school day — that was its own finish line.
My first medal : at St. Paul’s , Kottayi
At school, I played a lot of games that involved running. One incident I remember very clearly — I was running at full speed with an imaginary steering wheel in my hand, turned sharply near a parked school van, and boom! Accident with another child.
I paused for a moment. I was about to run again — but I saw a few older children and teachers rushing toward me. When I looked down, my cream school uniform had large patches of red along with my red tie.
They took me to a nearby clinic immediately. I got some stitches right above my right eye.
Maybe that’s my first medal, that I still carry on my face.
Vyasa Chapter — 5th to 12th standard
I always wanted to participate in running races. But at home I had bigger “hurdles” than one saw on the track.
There was a reason why Amma didn’t let me participate in school sports. I had mild asthma as a child — especially during 3rd to 6th standard — and I had put on a lot of weight. She herself was a distinguished asthma patient, and didn’t want me to suffer the way she does. Also, Achan (my father)wasn’t with us then — she was my sole protector.
One more thing — Amma also stopped me from going out alone because of my sudden blackouts. We consulted cardiologists, neurologists, and did many tests. But they never figured out the exact reason why I fainted until recently in 2023.
So Amma had full responsibility and control over me.
She was even afraid to board a bus alone — how could she send me to school sports events in public transport?
But things changed. Later, after the 7-8th standard, I lost weight and gained height. I played football at school, cricket at home — and I didn’t face any breathing problems at all.
Around the 8th or 9th standard, I once participated in a running race — 200m or 400m. In one of the trials, I came third, despite my shoe slipping off during the race.
I had qualified for the heats the next day… but Amma didn’t let me go to school that day!
I always admired my friends Pradeep, Kailash who could sprint and the other ones who did cross-country from school to Melamuri. But I never did it myself at school time. Years later, during COVID, I finally ran those same routes — to silence the regret.
But Amma ensured that I crossed the academic hurdles in my schooling life, without which I won’t be the person that I am today.
Vadakara Chapter
After getting into my then dream of Engineering through a merit seat, Hostel life began at Kurunthodi in Vadakara.
Until 11th, I was fairly well-built, thanks to Achan’s push-up masterclass. Then came 12th board studies and entrance exam preps — and I put on some weight.
As part of ragging, one senior — who himself had a bigger tummy — pointed at mine! That’s when I realised I had one too. From that point onward, I got more involved in workouts, games, and gym. We also played a lot of cricket and volleyball.
We walked a lot — none of us had a bike. Running was uncommon — maybe I wanted some company. Now, to the main topic: my first group run, probably in the 2nd or 3rd year of college.
I was the most excited — I planned and organized everything. One fine evening, we decided to wake up early the next morning and run to college hill. Rajeesh, Nikhil, Naveen, Shyjith, Rahul— they all joined. At that time, I didn’t even have sports shoes — most of us ran in slippers.
We might have ran just 2 kms, but as we reached the intersection before the climb started, I vomited. Maybe because I ran on an empty stomach. Nikhil stayed back with me. Everyone laughed — not to mock me, but in that harmless, hostel-fun way. But that first run meant something.
“In Vadakara, I felt like I was becoming myself, cut off from home. But it was in Ahmedabad that I truly started discovering who I am…”
Ahmedabad Chapter — The Slow Start
I wanted to spend time with Achan. That was clear to me by the time I finished B.Tech.
And I didn’t want to follow the usual IT route everyone was taking. Before the end of 4th year, Achan said, “Come to Ahmedabad. We’ll figure it out.” And honestly, it turned out to be a great time.
I was clueless about my career and didn’t know what I wanted to do next. But those 8–10 transformative months in Ahmedabad helped me become who I am today. I explored whether I should do an MBA, as Achan had suggested. I started reading mainly to improve my vocab. But the very first book “The Alchemist” flipped something inside me — a real ‘UNO reverse’ moment. I didn’t want an MBA – I wanted to work in ISRO ! Those books reshaped the way I thought about life. I started going on long walks and having deep conversations with myself.
In one such walk, I walked over 10 km in a single stretch.
Life moved on. I got a job at Adani Gas — where Achan was also working. I got a first-hand taste of the corporate world. I started to drift — and rethink my choices. Achan pushed for an MBA — from his experience, that felt like the obvious step. But I was more inclined toward research, even though it wasn’t a popular or “glamorous” career path back then. Along with my job, I prepared for JEST/GATE to get into Masters/PhD.
But Amma always supported me — whatever I chose. She didn’t have much exposure to these paths, but her intuition and emotional understanding were great. She trusted both me and the gods she prayed to.
This phase of confusion and tension led me to running. Sometimes before or after work, I would run — or at least walk long stretches. Alongside, I did push-ups and pull-ups.
That running or walking time was my self-talk time. I had questions, doubts, frustration.
Running helped clear my mind. It became my form of meditation.
End of Part 1 : Not the End, Just a Pause
I didn’t write this to glorify medals or distances. I wrote it to understand why I even began — and why I still feel the urge to challenge myself.
The answer isn’t simple. But maybe it’s hidden somewhere here — in these scattered memories, across places and years.
In one of my earlier blogs, I had explored the connection to astrology. Interestingly, the next phase of my journey — at IIST — unfolds alongside a new Jupiter cycle.
And they say, when Jupiter returns, we meet our next version.
The art of Slowing Down 