Ran, Mumbai, Ran

And so the Standard Chartered Mumbai Marathon is over and done with. We did a bit of awareness raising, but thats not dope for thirtysixandcounting, so head over to India Helps to read more about that.

What this post is about is my firm resolve, yes, as firm as the jelly that masquerades as my thighs these days, to get into ship shape to at least do the dream run next year. Yes, I have a banner to hold up now. And I will buy industrial strength sunblock or one of those caps with an umbrella attached to deal with my sun paranoia and undoubted skin turned to coal phenomenon which has my child jump back and yelp in fear when he sees me after a day out bareheaded in the sun.

Therefore, I asked the husband, a little cautiously, whether he thought I could do it. You must understand the husband is a national swimming champ. He is used to gruelling schedules and when four pegs down is guaranteed to bore wet paint into drying double quick by detailing his training schedules, the races he won, his records and such like. I on the other hand was a kachcha limbu (remember that term) in the compound of kids gang until I was in my teens. I was only tolerated in teams because I was a very generous child and would hand out chocolates to all and sundry in the team regardless of whether we won or lost, and regardless of the mater’s futile efforts to hide said chocolates in unfindable spots within the fridge including the vegetable and frozen meats compartments. I retain the same skills at sniffing out sweet and fattening foods, age has not diminished the ability. Therefore, twas with great trepidation that I asked the husband if I would be able to get into decent shape to run the dream run. He snorted dismissively. This is a man who goes for a ten km jog before a spot of breakfast on random days when he feels like and then comes home all refreshed and raring to get to work, while I splash water on my face after fainting hearing the distance he covers.  “What is the dream run?” he snorts even more dismissively. “Its a cakewalk. Anyone who wants can do it. Just stop calling the car to the entrance of the lobby and walk your way every where. You will get in shape.”

I nodded wisely with furrowed brow and resolved to walk everywhere. And save some petrol in the process. In theory the idea seemed good. So there I was wanting to get to the supermarket down on the main road from where we live. The walk is a five minute distance away. And so I set out. Cap on head. Sneakers on foot. Water bottle in bag in case of acute dehydration.  Two minutes into the uneven path that links the two buildings, I realised I had forgotten to slather on sunscreen. Convinced I would emerge from my trip as baked as a beach hippie I tried to siddle against the sidelines of the path where miniscule shrubbery gave one some modicum of cover. An errant branch lay out waiting for the prime opportunity to trip me up. And so, like an alcoholic to a wine shop, I went straight into its crooked arm and toppled right over. Picked myself up, nothing bruised but the ego and perhaps the earth mourning with the sheer force of the impact. I hobbled to the supermarket, realising that the twinge of pain in the ankle is Not A Good Sign At All. Looking down, I noticed the ankle had ballooned to twice the normal size, which is milk bottles on growth hormones. Therefore, the driver was summoned on the speed dial, as I sat on the stoop of the supermarket, garnering ice and sympathy and such like from concerned folk around. The next time I think I should do my walking on paved paths. And learn that it is essential to look down at said path before advancing forth on it. And also carry ice buckets with me. Just in case.

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About Kiran Manral

Author of The Face At The Window, ( 2016), Karmic Kids, All Aboard (2015) , Once Upon A Crush (2014) and The Reluctant Detective (2011).
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10 Responses to Ran, Mumbai, Ran

  1. Jira says:

    Hope your ankle is better now.
    But the way you narrated the incident was just funny. Looks like you are not meant to walk 🙂 Start straight with running!

    Like

  2. Sue says:

    Aww milady… you were not born to walk your way down unpaved streets.

    Like

  3. Violet says:

    Awww.. thats sad. I can empathise so much with you, have the same dislike for walk and tumble down at the first opportunity present.. Fortunately or otherwise, I don’t have a driver and no inclination to drive around myself. Hence walking till an autorickshaw is sighted is my idea of a walk.

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  4. Aathira says:

    Hope your ankle is doing better.

    The easier and safer option would be to run madly up and down stairs… at least they are guaranteed to be void of said branches waiting to launch them in between your feet!

    PS: Easier said than done! 😦

    Like

  5. kbpm says:

    oh dear. hope its better now. ankles are a major pain & real weak spot. and what do you mean? of course you can do the dream run (no snorting, really). the sun issue is a pain though i am still itchy with sunburn, i burn a fair bit.

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  6. andy says:

    Awwww, Hope you ankle is better now!!

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  7. dipali says:

    Ankle,ankle,get well soon.
    And walk where ladies are meant to walk- in pretty tree lined parks!

    Like

  8. And did you see the delectable Milind Soman while running? That alone would make me want to work hard towards next years race.

    Hope the ankle gets better in a jiffy. Lay with your feet up for a few days. Asprin will help with the inflammation.

    Like

  9. CA says:

    Hope you get well soon Kiran …
    The narration was so funny though … and I was trying hard to contain myself when my manager barged into my cube 😦

    Like

  10. Abha says:

    thank god you didnt say you will carry some tiles and cement to even up the pavements! :p

    hope the ankle is doing better! 🙂

    cheers!

    Like

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