The Fox And The Hedgehog

A short time ago, I met a friend Sophia, who mentioned that she will be running her 5^th Half Marathon on the 15^th of Jan 2012 in Mumbai.    

I could not understand why she would not move from the half marathon distance to the full marathon distance having already experienced the half marathon 4 times.  I have quite a few friends like Sophia.  They run the distance of their choice reasonably fast but their total focus is to keep improving their performance at that very distance instead of increasing or changing their race category.

I have friends who run a 1:45 half marathon and still insist that they are not ready for a full marathon because they want to first reduce the time of their half.  So they keep training and focusing on the half marathon. They insist on running only half marathons! I also have friends who run the full marathon in a time of 3:45, and yet tell me that they are not ready to run an ultra-marathon or Comrades until they further improve on their time in the full marathon to around 3:30. They insist on running only full marathons until then!

I on the other hand want to run and experience all manner of races (albeit slowly).  I take part in 10k’s, half marathons, marathons and ultra marathons. I don’t focus on any particular distance with the specific aim of running it at my fastest potential speed before exploring other distances. 

Archilochus, a Greek poet once said:

 “The fox knows many things; the hedgehog one big thing”

Nobody knows exactly what Archilochus meant by this.    Perhaps he simply meant that the hedgehog’s simple defence (of curling into a ball, and presenting spikes to the predator when attacked) defeats the fox’s many tricks.  

Perhaps he meant that the hedgehog has one single powerful response to all its challenges. The fox, by contrast, has no single response to challenges, for they ‘know many little things’.  They react to challenges by drawing on a pattern of general experienced understanding, often making mistakes along the way but never committing to one grand strategy.

Perhaps Archilochus meant that Hedgehogs single-mindedly pursue one ideological goal and organize their thoughts in relation to it, Foxes are knowledgeable in a number of areas but do not specialize in any one.

Isaiah Berlin, a famous philosopher expanded upon this metaphor to divide writers and thinkers into two categories: Hedgehogs, who view the world through the lens of a single defining idea, a single specific objective and a single strategy and foxes who draw upon a wide variety of experiences, who are flexible in their approach and for whom the world cannot be boiled down to a single idea. 

Of course, the metaphor for the hedgehog and the fox can be applied to runners as well.  The runner who needs to conquer each race distance, at his/her best possible speed before experiencing other distances seems to me much like a hedgehog. He/she has focus and clarity of vision.

Foxes on the other hand lack such central vision and universal principals; they seize many experiences and pursue many ends.  They don’t have a grand strategy.  They lack single-mindedness – they pursue a range of interests and dabble in whatever they find intriguing at a particular time.  The need of certain runners to take part in as many different races over different race distances as long as they provide new experiences seems to me the characteristics of a fox.

I think that each way of thinking has its strength and weaknesses; neither is superior to the other. 

Of course, the fox seems less consistent and disciplined. Sometimes, as a runner it is very important to create a good base running speed and my friends who master a particular distance before proceeding to the next longer distance may certainly be doing the right thing. Also, the runner who keeps participating in all manner of races rarely gets time to train and focus on one particular race.    

Sometimes knowing one thing exceptionally well (being the fastest you can be at a particular distance) is not a bad thing.  It has always been said that a Jack of all trades, is a master of none. 

I have heard that once the fox was boasting to the hedgehog of his clever devices for escaping his enemies. “I have a whole bag of tricks,” he said, “which contains a hundred ways of escaping the enemy.” "I have only one," said the hedgehog; "but I can generally manage with that."

Just at that moment they heard the cry of a pack of hounds coming towards them, and the Hedgehog immediately scampered towards a bush and curled himself into a ball and presented his spikes outwards. "This is my plan," said the hedgehog. "What are you going to do?" The Fox thought first of one way, then of another, he knew a lot of things that he could do but while he was debating, the hounds came nearer and nearer. The Fox in his confusion was caught up by the hounds and soon killed by the huntsmen. The Hedgehog, who had been looking on, said:

"Better one safe way than a hundred on which you cannot reckon."

I have often found myself wondering, at the 30k mark of the Mumbai Marathon, “What in the world am I doing here.  Why didn’t I just stick to the 21k?”

But on the other hand being a fox is not all that bad. It is good to run different distances and experience different things. It is great to experience the pain of Comrades (or races longer and tougher than Comrades) and at the same time to occasionally run an easy 21k, it is fun to run a reasonably fast 10k and a long slow 42k.  It is great to experience all the different race distances even if one is not exceptionally good at any of them.  It makes you polymathic.    

I have heard a famous parable, perhaps a version of it was first uttered by Ramakrishna (1836-1886) a famous mystic.  It is about a Pundit (a learned man) who knew everything about the great religious book The Gita, but little else.

Once, several men were crossing the Ganges in a boat. The pundit was making a great display of his erudition, saying that he had extensively studied the Gita and knew everything there was to know about it.

He asked a fellow passenger, 'Have you read The Gita?' 'No, revered sir, I am a farmer and don’t have time for it in the morning' answered the fellow passenger'.

“Has it ever been read to you?” 'No, revered sir' answered the farmer, “I have to mend all the farm implements and look after my animals in the evenings and can’t find the time.”

'Have you no idea of the philosophy expounded by the Gita?” 'No, revered sir' answered the farmer, “I also fish in this river sometimes at night.”

The pundit was talking in this vain way, when a great storm arose and the boat was about to sink. The passenger said to the pundit, 'Sir, can you swim?' 'No', replied the pundit. The passenger said, 'I don't know about the Gita or its philosophy, but I can swim.'

Sometimes, it seems, it is better to know many things as opposed to one, great thing. 

I think that to be a good runner one needs to be a little bit of BOTH, a fox and a hedgehog.  One can learn a lot from both stereotypes. Sometimes, as the occasion may demand, we need a fox-like flexibility and versatility and sometimes, a hedgehog-like vision and focus. 

But generally one personality trait dominates in each one of us.  Which one are you?

Speed Training : Viewed Through A Perforated Sheet

I have always approached all my marathons with a simple strategy.  I start the race slowly and then I keep running slower and slower as the race progresses. 

This peculiar race day strategy has been adopted not because of some grand insight into distance running but due to a lack of running ability.  I am the ultimate back-of-the pack runner.  When I run the Comrades Marathon, I aim at finishing it in 11:59:59. (12:00:00 being the cut-off).  I get no pleasure in this.  I hate running slowly on race day.  But you can run on race day only as fast as you have run in training.  I no longer want the excitement of struggling against the clock at every cut-off point.   The suspense is more than I can bear.

I have decided to run FAST!

But like the maturation of fine wine, running fast is an art.  It has to be nurtured slowly and with great care.  There are no shortcuts. 

I started by reading about it.  One of the best chapters on Speed Training is in the book: ‘Alberto Salzar’s Guide to Road Racing’.  Salzar explains that first thing to do in order to increase one’s speed is to increase training volume and correcting abnormalities in one’s stride.  However once that is done, the only way to increase speed is through speed workouts. 

Alberto breaks up speed workouts into 4 categories: long intervals (1000m to 1600m), medium intervals (600m to 800m), short intervals (200m to 400m) and tempo workouts.   He explains that each category of workout has different characteristic and physiological goals.  The long intervals boost VO2 max.  The medium intervals not only boost VO2 max but also help improve running efficiency.  The short intervals focus only on running efficiency.  The tempo workouts are designed to boost lactic acid threshold. 

He explains that even for a novice, one speed workout in 7 days is not enough and suggests working on a 10 day training cycle. 

He says that these speed workouts build on each other much like constructing a flight of stairs.  He explains: “When I was targeting on racing 10ks at a 4:25 pace, I needed to run repeat 1600s at 4:20s.  But to do that, I had to be able to run 1200 meters in about 3:08 to 3:10.  That required a background of 800s in 2:02 to 2:04, which in turn required me to be comfortable with 59 to 60-second 400 meters.  Those 400 meter repeats draw on a base of 28 to 29 second 200s.  Without the 200s, I couldn’t have done the 400s, 800s, 1200s or 1600s and 4:25s on the 10k would have been impossible.”

He goes on to further explain that, “You won’t be building this staircase in strict bottom-up order.  Instead, you hop back and forth from one level to another, pounding in a nail here and a nail there until the entire edifice is complete.” 

I love such talk!  This makes complete sense to me. A judicious combination of different speed workouts will add to my basic cruising speed.  I need to run 200s, 400s, 800s, and 1000s and tempo runs.  Pick workouts from any of the 4 categories but to make sure that I shouldn’t always do the same workout.  Do a short interval session on one day and then follow it up with a long interval session which should then be followed by a medium interval session which should be followed by a tempo run.

So for the past 3 months I have been on my quest to improve my speed.  I run 200x16 repeats on one day and 5 days later run 800x8 repeats.  This is followed 5 days later by a tempo run which is then followed 5 days later by 400x10 repeats. The times of each repeat is logged into my log book and analyzed and dissected. The other week days are taken up by recovery runs, hill sessions, one gym session, one yoga session, a weekly long run and the most important training day, i.e the rest day.

I have fallen in love with these speed intervals.  Each distance is unique.  The experience of running 200 meter intervals is totally different than that of the 800 meter intervals which are in turn is totally different from that of the tempo run.  Each distance is unique in what it brings to me in terms of physical and emotional experiences.  I come back from each such session feeling like I have successfully wooed a beautiful woman.  The quest for speed is like the quest for a beautiful woman.  It needs a holistic approach.  

But the problem is that I don’t know whether the woman, in all her fullness, has fallen for me?  I just know that the 200s, 400s, 800s and the tempo runs are all going well.  Each of them is helping me build and strengthen a different aspect of my running.  I enjoy running them but I still don’t know whether, it will all come together on 3^rd June 2012 when I run Comrades.  I know that one is improving my VO2 max, another workout is improving my running efficiency, and yet another is improving my lactic acid threshold. Yet, what I don’t know is whether it will all finally come together and translate into a faster time on race day.  Will the sum of the parts add up to something bigger than each individual part? I love each part individually but will I love the whole even more?  Will the jigsaw puzzle finally fall into place and be more beautiful that the individual pieces?

It’s like getting ready to marry someone you have only seen in parts without having seen her face which is hidden behind a veil.  The veil only to be lifted after the marriage vows are taken on the wedding day. 

This approach to speed training reminded me of the story of Doctor Aziz from Salman Rushdie’s Midnights Children.  In 1915, Dr Aziz returns from Europe to Kashmir having completed his medical training.  He is called to attend on Naseem, the daughter of Ghani Saheb, the widowed landlord.  Dr Aziz is excited because a rich landlord’s sick daughter is good news to a young doctor with a career to make.

“He is taken to a room at the Ghani residence where he found two women, built like professional wrestlers, standing stiffly, each holding one corner of an enormous white bed sheet, their arms raised high above their heads so that the sheet hangs between them like a curtain.  Dr Aziz stares stupidly at this tableau for sometime at the end of which he makes a discovery. 

In the centre of the sheet, a hole has been cut, a crude circle of about 7 inches in diameter.

Ghani Saheb explains to Dr Aziz that the town contains many good-for-nothings who have on occasion tried to climb into his daughter’s room.  Dr Aziz is still looking at the perforated sheet when Ghani Saheb asks him to proceed with his daughter’s examination”. 

“But where is she?” Dr Aziz blurted.  “Ah, I see your confusion,’ Ghani Saheb said, his poisonous smile broadening, “You Europe-returned chappies forget certain things.  Doctor Aziz, my daughter is a decent girl, it goes without saying.  She does not flaunt her body under the nose of strange men.  You will understand that you cannot see her, no, not in any circumstances; accordingly I have required her to be positioned behind that sheet.  She stands there, like a good girl.’

A frantic note had crept into Doctor Aziz’s voice, “Ghani Saheb, tell me how I am to examine her without looking at her?” Ghani Saheb smiled and replied,     “You will kindly specify which portion of my daughter it is necessary to inspect.  I will then issue her with my instructions to place the required segment against that hole which you see there.  And so, in this fashion the thing may be achieved.”

“But what, in any event, does the lady complain of?” asked Dr Aziz. “The poor child! She has a terrible, a too dreadful stomach ache.”

“In that case,’ Dr Aziz said with some restraint, ‘will she show me her stomach please.’

In the succeeding months and years, Naseem contracted a quite extraordinary number of minor illnesses and each time the tall young eligible Dr Aziz was summoned.  And the poor Doctor fell into the sorcerer’s spell of that enormous perforated cloth.  On each occasion he was vouchsafed a glimpse, through the mutilated sheet, of a different 7 inch circle of a young woman’s body.  Her initial stomach ache was succeeded by a slightly twisted right ankle, an in-growing toenail on the big toe of the left foot, a tiny cut on the lower left calf.  Then there was the matter of her stiff right knee which required manipulation through the 7 inch hole in the sheet....Later the illness leapt upward, avoiding certain unmentionable zones, and began to proliferate around the upper half.  

Once he was required to gently rub a powder under her armpits, through the 7 inch hole, and felt the soft secret body shake and quiver under his touch.  She was anaemic in summer and bronchial in winter.  But in all the years she never repeated an illness.” 

“So gradually the good doctor came to have a picture of Naseem in his mind, a badly-fitting collage of her severally-inspected parts.  This phantasm of a partitioned woman began to haunt him, and not only in his dreams.  And yet, he had never seen her face.”       

“By 1918, Dr Aziz had come to live for his regular trips to the Ghani residence.  Now for the first time, after 3 years, there appeared a lump in the right chest.  And the Doctor had to look at and examine, framed in the 7 inch hole, a perfectly formed and lyrically lovely....”

“This was later followed by a pulled muscle at the back of her thigh....and there, in the middle of the sheet hung a superbly rounded and impossible buttock.”  That too had to be examined and manipulated by touch.     

“Finally the good doctor began to hope an illicit desperation for Naseem Ghani to develop a migraine or graze her unseen chin, so they could look each other in the face.” 

He had fallen in love with this woman without even having seen her face!

These speed intervals are doing the same to me! I run and experience each in isolation, as if I am looking at each distance through a 7 inch hole.   I have fallen in love with them!  Each interval shows me a potential of what can be! Each shows me a possibility of the freedom of speed! Each shows me the beauty of effortlessly gliding through the distance! 

Yet I cannot see the whole!  It is like romancing the unknown. 

I don’t know if the 200s, 400s, 800s, 1000s and tempos will all add up to a magical day when I can finally see the finished whole.  Will the new normal cruising speed hold for the length of the race?  Will the edifice be built?  What will be the result when the veil lifts on the race day and the finish line of Comrades beckons? 

Finally the day arrived and Naseem developed the longed for headache.  Dr Aziz hardly dared to look at what was framed in the hole in the sheet.  Maybe she was hideous; perhaps that explained all this performance.......he looked.  And saw a soft face that was not at all ugly, a cushioned setting for her glittering, gemstone eyes, which were brown with flecks of gold: tigers-eye’s.  Doctor Aziz’s fall was complete.

I too am wooing my beloved.  200s, 400s, 800s, tempo runs.......each through a hole in the perforated sheet which will finally rise on race day. 

There is still some time for Comrades, but like Dr Aziz, I too, have already fallen in love...much before the lifting of the veil.

Running Versus Jogging

A few days ago my friend Ria, who is training for her first half marathon, asked me a question: “What is the difference between running and jogging?” 

This was a relevant question because Running and Jogging are profound words for a runner.  

The problem with the answer to that question is that words, in general, and their perceived meanings, cause all sorts of problems.  Communication is difficult business, even when people speak the same language.  We ascribe meanings to words according to our own realities, experiences and understanding.  Words convey and yet don’t convey.  The interpretation of words is where the problems lie. 

I have heard that once upon a time, George was coming home, completely drunk, in the early hours of the morning.  On his way home, he passed a cemetery where he noticed a signboard.  On it was written in large letters: ‘RING FOR THE CARETAKER’ – and that’s what he did.

Being the middle of the night, the caretaker was disturbed.  He came out, groggy, disoriented and angry.  When he saw George, totally drunk, he became angrier.  He shouted, “Why? Why did you ring for me? What do you want?”

George looked at him for a long silent moment.  Then he looked at the signboard and said, “I want to know why you can’t ring the damn bell yourself?”

The signboard had read: RING FOR THE CARETAKER. 

Words can be interpreted in any number of ways.

In fact, the spoken word is as open to misinterpretation as the written word.  Empires have been won and lost because of such misunderstandings.

One of my favourite books is The Histories by Herodotus.  It is considered by many to be one of the seminal works of history in Western Literature.  Written around the 450s BC, it stands as one of the first accounts of the rise of the Persian Empire.  It covers the Greco-Persian wars between the Persian Empire and the Greek city-states in the 5^th Century BC.

The book tells the story of Croesus, King of Lydia from 560 to 547 BC.  In Greek and Persian culture, the name of King Croesus became a synonym for a wealthy man.  Even today, the expressions “rich as Croesus” or “richer than Croesus” are often used. 

Croesus, like most men, wanted more power and more wealth.  He wanted to declare war against the Persians.  However, before declaring war against Cyrus the Great of Persia he turned to the oracle at Delphi and asked whether he should go to war against the Persian Empire.

The oracle answered that if Croesus attacked the Persians, he would indeed destroy a great and mighty Empire! Feeling secure with these words, Croesus attacked the Persian Empire in 547 BC.  An initial inconclusive battle was fought.  As usual in those days, the armies would disband for winter and after the battle, Croesus did accordingly. Cyrus however did not disband his army and attacked Croesus again and captured him. 

Tied to the pyre, to be burned alive, the words of the Oracle at Delphi must have finally become clear to Croesus: The great and mighty Empire he was about to destroy by going to war was his own!

Hindsight is 20/20, one can easily assert that when the oracle told him that, if he attacked the Persians, he would destroy a mighty empire, he ought, if he had been wise, inquired which empire was meant, that of Cyrus or his own? He neither understood what was said, nor took the trouble to seek enlightenment.

Words cause a lot of problems and misunderstandings. 

Ria asked, what is the difference between running and jogging.  I knew the answer and was willing to share it with her. 

A few Sundays ago I ran a hard 21k and was very satisfied with my time.  Monday was consequently a rest day and towards Monday evening, I called my friend Sushant to ask him his Tuesday morning plans.  Sushant told me that he had run a hard 25k himself and planned to run an ‘easy’ 10k.  This perfectly coincided with my plan to run an ‘easy’ 10k.  We met exactly at 6:00 am on the beach and started our ‘easy’ run.  Sushant set the pace for our ‘easy’ run.  By the time we reached 4k, I realized that I was on pace for a personal best 5k time.  Sushant was flying.  I was dying.  As far as he was concerned, he was jogging. As far as I was concerned, I was sprinting.  For him an ‘Easy’ run meant running at 5:15 min/km, for me that speed would mean I am running at my fastest possible pace. 

At 4k, I abandoned my run and bid him goodbye.

Words can cause a lot of misunderstandings.

What is the difference between running and jogging? I knew the answer. I had learnt it the hard way. 

Like a wise old man I answered, “One man’s jog is another man’s sprint.”

   

Greed Is Good !

Yesterday, I was looking at my log book and analyzing all my plans.  Everything has been planned from now until the 3^rd of June 2012, when I hope to run and comfortably finish the 89km Comrades Ultra Marathon.

There are some short term goals and some long term goals.  I want to run the Delhi Half Marathon on the 27^th of November in 1:59. As the official pacer for the Mumbai Marathon on Jan 15^th, I want to bring in the bus in 4:55.  I want to run the 106k, Three Cranes Challenge, South Africa in February 2012.  I want to run a yet unplanned marathon in California sometime in late April 2012 and then I want a comfortable finish at Comrades on the 3^rd of June 2012 in South Africa.

As I analyzed the log-book, I realized that I 'want' quite a bit.  Perhaps I am too greedy!

There is a story I remembered about a King and a beggar.  One day, very early in the morning, a great wise King, was taking a walk through his Capital.  He came across a beggar who was sitting in the street.  The King asked the beggar, “What do you want?” The beggar answered, “Are you sure that you can give me what I want?”  The King got a little peeved at this and said, “I am the King, what do you want?” The beggar said, “Ok, if you can, then fill this begging bowl”.  The King laughed and said, “You think I cannot fill this little bowl of yours?”  The beggar said, “Ok, I will hold you to your word, after all you are the King. But you must not stop until this bowl is completely full, all the way to the brim.” 

The King simply laughed at the size of the bowl and then to impress the beggar with his wealth and power, called for his treasurer and asked him to fill the beggars bowl with diamonds.  The treasurer brought the diamonds and poured them into the bowl, but they disappeared.  Shocked, the King asked that more be brought.  More and more diamonds were brought, when those ran out, precious stones were bought and yet they disappeared inside the bowl. Then gold was brought from the treasury and then the silver and then the jewellery.  Everything kept disappearing inside the bowl.  By evening the news had spread all over the Capital that the King and the Kingdom were ruined.  The treasury empty. The King folded his hands and fell onto the beggar’s feet and started crying.  “What is this bowl?” he cried, “it has made a beggar out of me!”

“I found a dead man’s skull at the cemetery”, explained the beggar, “and since I am very poor and did not even have a begging bowl, I fashioned one out of the skull.  And now, no matter what I put into it, it wants more and is never satiated.  It keeps asking for more.” Man, the beggar went on to explain, is never satisfied with what he has.  He always wants more. His greed knows no end.

I wonder if I too want too much.  Don’t I already have enough?  Am I too greedy? Should I not be satisfied with whatever I have?

But, I reasoned that all that I wished for was to run more.  Running is the source of my pure and happy thoughts and if I am tuned to happiness, then there is no need to ask less of it.  Running is my way of celebrating life. It has become a source of goodness in my life.  It helps me to live life intensely and passionately. I think it is OK to be greedy for more running. 

I think, we get that which we want for in life.  Happiness and positive thoughts can keep growing if that is what we wish for.  There is an endless supply.   If, on the other hand, I was to tune into unhappiness, then it too would keep growing.  It pretty much depends upon the tuning inside me, much like the wave-length of a radio.  Tune in and run towards happy thoughts and they follow, tune in and wish for unhappiness and it follows. 

But, this is too much philosophy and I guess I will stop my analysis now. 

Osho once narrated a joke: Mulla Nassruddin was walking into town one evening when he suddenly came across a pile of cow shit on the path.  He bent over slightly and looked at it carefully. 

“Looks like it,” he said to himself.

He leaned closer and sniffed. “Smells like it”.

He cautiously put his finger in it. “Feels like it”.

He then tasted it!  “Tastes like it. I’m sure glad I didn’t step in it!”

“Beware of too much analysis!” warned Osho. 

Running is my source of joy.  It is good to be greedy for more. No need for any analysis. 

The Agony and Ecstasy of Multi-Tasking

In the few hours that I spend at work, in order to earn my living, I am simultaneously looking at e-mails on my laptop, messaging on my bb, reading the Huffington Post on my ipad, answering questions from my colleagues, and thinking about my companies finances, marketing and sales. I am also looking at the price of gold on Bloomberg and regretting that I did not buy some when the price was $600/ounce. 

In those few hours at the office, I am not really there.  Thousands of thoughts fill my mind and I am tired after a few hours of this juggling act.

On some days, I treat my runs much like my work.  I am quite spaced out.  My mind is multi-tasking. I am thinking about past runs or dreaming about future runs. As I run, I am listening to music, I am also thinking about work, family and friends.  I am planning my future runs and races. I am thinking about future training programs and the status of the current ones. My mind is all over the place expect where I am.  

Some days ago, I bought an air gun for my son Aryan.  He had wanted one for a long time and I had delayed buying it for as long as possible.  However, as a kid I had owned one and had enjoyed shooting at discarded battery cells, plastic bottles and such and so I thought it was only fair to buy him one.

We decided to sit in the garden and shoot at a can of Coke.  After sharing the Coke we put the can about 20 feet away and as I handed him the loaded gun, I decided to ask him the question that was asked about 5000 years ago by Dronacharya to his pupils during a lesson of archery. 

I asked Aryan, “What do you see?” He gave me a ‘look’ and said, “Coke Can!”  My question had seemed so bizarre to him that I had to tell him the story about Arjuna from the great Indian epic, The Mahabharata.   

The great master archer, Dronacharya, used to teach a great many princes the art of war, amongst other things.  Archery was his favourite subject and his favourite disciple was Arjuna. 

One day, Dronacharya had asked his disciples to shoot their arrows at the right eye of a dead bird he had hung on a tree. They were all ready with their bows and arrows but he said, “Before you shoot, I want to ask a question, and each one has to answer.”

He asked the first student, “What do you see?”

The student answered, “I am see everything: the tree, the dead bird, the sky, other trees, the birds flying, I see you my Guru and my fellow princes, I see everything”

Dronacharya went on asking the same question to the other disciples. Each disciple gave almost similar answers. 

Arjuna answered, “I don’t see anything except the right eye.”  Of course, it was only Arjuna who managed to shoot the target.

I envied young Aryan the clarity of his concentration because when it was my time to shoot the air gun, I realised that I had my eyes on the Coke can but my minds eyes were on the red blinking light of my Blackberry which meant that I had either an SMS or a BBM or an e-mail to attend to.  I realized that this was pretty pathetic.

Sometimes however, I do a bit better with my concentration when I run.  This happens when I do my speed intervals or time trials or during the race day when I want to achieve a particular time goal.  On those days I focus purely on my pace with the help of my Garmin watch.  Every few minutes I look at the display screen showing the distance, the average pace, the actual pace and the time elapsed and then I adjust my speed. 

The day when I ran to finish Comrades or acted as a pacer for the Standard Chartered Mumbai marathon was exceptional because I concentrated like a fanatic on just one goal: finishing at the right time.  There is a joy in concentrating on just one single thought. 

The ability to concentrate like that on a single goal can also make me a better runner if I can do it more often. 

But there is something even more magical than this single-pointed concentration.  Concentration is normally exclusive.  You need to drop everything to the exception of one thought.  However, unfocused awareness is all-inclusive and far more enriching. Multi-tasking can be wonderful if it has a meditative quality. 

I have recently signed up for the Three Cranes Challenge in Africa.  It is a track and trail race which is run over 3 days inside the forest.  One is supposed to spend the nights inside a tent for the duration of the stay and go out each day and run different trails through the forest. The total distance to be covered is a little over 100 km. 

I have therefore started to do some trail running.  I have found a small trail inside the Borivali National Park which is not very far from my house.  The roads inside the park are paved but there are 2 or 3 trails which run through densely forested areas and are very desolate.  Nobody goes there.  There have been news of panther sightings often enough to keep people off these trails in the early morning hours.

And I have discovered that which many of my friends already knew: trail running is absolutely magical.

It needs, not the concentration which is exclusive but an awareness which is all inclusive.  I cannot be ‘spaced-out’ while trail running nor can I have a ‘single-pointed concentration’.  I need to be present on the trail.  I need to be ‘there’ while running through the forest if I don’t want to be face down on the forest floor.   

Now, when I run alone inside the forest, I run without music, I focus on the stony path to get my footing right, I hear the insects and the sounds of small lizards and crickets around me, I hear the chirping of birds, I notice the occasional flowers on the forest floor, I hear the sound of the wind, I hear the rustling of the leaves, I feel the greenness around me, I feel the muscles in my body as they strain to move forward, I see the butterflies, I see the small puddles of rain water, I see the small crabs running to and fro, I feel the cool wind, I feel the perspiration on my skin, I can hear the sound of my breath and feel the air as it enters and leaves my mouth and nose.

But I have no time to verbalize anything, I feel and I see, I am aware, I simply watch everything as I run past, I am totally there. I have no time to think! I have no time to verbalize! The beautiful distractions inside a forest are far greater than the mundane distractions of a modern society, but the only way to run inside the forest is to see and feel everything and focus on nothing except the act of running.

I am simply running.  There is magic.

I remember a story which was shared by Osho about a Zen master. One of the Emperors of Japan had gone to see a great Zen master, Nan Yin. The Emperor asked Nan Yin, “What have you learned that makes you a great master, known all over the country?” 

Nan Yin said, “Very simple: when I chop wood, I simply chop wood; and when I carry the water from the well, I simply carry the water from the well.”

The emperor said, “I had come to listen to something spiritual. What nonsense are you talking? Chopping wood, you simply chop wood? Everybody does it; what is special in it? Carrying water from the well, you carry the water from the well? I have travelled a long distance, and I am your country’s Emperor. You should at least give me some spiritual advice.”

Nan Yin said, “That was my spiritual advice, and I want to make it clear to you that this is not what everybody is doing. It took me years to chop wood without any thoughts: to just be there, chopping.  And it is tremendously beautiful: the sound in the valley, the chips of the wood flying all over, the wind blowing through the trees, their song, their music. And I am utterly silent, just chopping wood.   Carrying water from the well is the same”

Nan Yin continued, “My whole day is the same. I have given you, in short, my basic approach of life. Be where you are. Don’t let mind go away.”

I am sure that Zen Master Nan Yin would have gone through his life with the same meditative spirit even if he had lived in this age of Blackberry’s, ipad’s, and 24 hour News Channels. 

But I, for now, am delighted if all I can manage is to always simply run, watching the space within me.

Airtel Hyderabad Marathon : August 2011

The Nawab’s Marathon

It is only fitting that the finisher’s medal for the Airtel Hyderabad Marathon is inscribed with a rendering of the Charminar. 

The Charminar (Four Towers) is a magnificent structure made of granite, limestone, mortar and pulverized marble.   Its four ornate minarets supported by four grand arches as inscribed on the marathon medal have become a symbol of Hyderabad.  It was built in 1592 AD by Sultan Muhammad Quli Qutb Shah, the ruler of Hyderabad, to commemorate the elimination of a plague epidemic from the city. But what I love most about the Charminar besides its architectural beauty is the prayer which the Sultan offered while laying its foundation. He prayed, "Oh Allah, bestow unto this city peace and prosperity. Let millions of men of all castes, creeds and religions make it their abode, like fish in the water."

As I ran through the hard and undulating course of the Hyderabad marathon along with my wife Neepa and other fellow runners, the words of the Sultan resonated in my mind. Like the varied fish in the water, we were an assorted bunch of runners comprised of all castes, creeds and religions running in peace and prosperity. We were running in perfect weather on a cool and cloudy day and we were a happy bunch, except when we saw that each small downhill was immediately followed by another up-hill, and as I labored my way up and down the rolling road, I wanted to add to the Sultans prayer, “Oh Allah, let my journey through the streets of this city be fast and easy”

We were in Hyderabad because my dear friend Rajesh Vetcha of Hyderabad Runners had invited us to run the marathon.  We had quickly accepted his invitation not only because we have fond memories of having visited the Charminar, the Salar Jung Museum, and the Golconda fort but also because it gave Neepa and me another opportunity to enjoy authentic Hyderabadi cuisine.    

There is something unique about the taste of a Hyderabadi biryani.  I think it beats the traditional pre-race and post-race pasta meal hands down.  The fragrance of basmati rice, cooked with or without meat, in a curry of onions, yogurt, spices, lemon, saffron, cashew nuts, coriander and accompanied by Dahi Chutney and Mirchi ka salan is simply divine.  I think a Hyderabadi biryani eaten the night before the race gives you a reasonable chance of knocking several seconds off your race pace.  

As we ran through the modern city of Hyderabad, past an area known as the Cyber-City, I marveled at how times change.  Just 11 km from the city lay the ancient fort of Golconda.  The fort although in ruins now, still remains the potent symbol of what was once the wealthiest and most powerful princely state of all India.  Every Indian knows the stories of how successive Nizam’s hid vast hoards of treasure inside the fort. Today however, a visitor to the Golconda fort will be shown how hundreds of years ago, the builders of Golconda designed the perfect acoustical system by which a hand clap sounded at the forts main gates, the grand portico, was heard at the top of the citadel, situated on a 300 foot high granite hill.  Running past modern buildings with glass facades housing the most advanced software companies of the world seemed to me quite a contrast to those ancient days when signals were sent without the use of any electronic technology.

Running alongside Neepa I could not help but tell her the stories of Nizam’s of Hyderabad.  For 7 generations starting from 1724, the Nizam’s created and ruled a state that was unique in the world. 

As a young man, when I read Indian history, I had wanted to be as wealthy as the 7th Nizam of Hyderabad.   Osman Ali Khan Asaf Jah VII, the 7th Nizam had been one of the world’s richest men.  He used to keep the uncut 400 carat Jacob Diamond, the size of a ducks egg, as a paper weight.  Forbes magazine put The Nizam on “All Time Wealthiest” list of 2008 with a net worth of 210.8 billion USD.

He had gold bricks valued at $250,000,000 (Times Feb 22, 1937) and rooms full of precious stones.  It is said that his stock of pearls alone would fill an Olympic sized swimming pool, or pave Broadway from Times Square to Columbus circle.  He owned the world’s largest coin –a dinner-plate-sized 12 kilogram gold mohur minted during the reign of Jahangir. He also controlled the great mines around Golconda and it was from these mines that the famous Great Mughal diamond was excavated as were the Koh-I-Noor, Hope and Regent diamonds.  He also owned 14,250 square km of land.

Besides all this, he also had 15 wives.

Neepa didn’t seem too interested to hear all these stories however I wanted to share them simply because I wanted to keep my mind off the difficult terrain over which we were running. The ups and downs are a constant feature of this route and having not studied the route profile I could never really relax because I never knew what was coming next.   

However, we both noticed that we were running perhaps one of the best organized races in India.  There were enough aid stations well stocked with water, Gatorade, biscuits and bananas besides the aid stations were manned by incredibly friendly volunteers who were all regular runners.  Even the cops were happily cheering the runners and for once they all seemed physically fit unlike the pot-bellied cops one is used to seeing in most Indian cities.   

The marathon had started at the picturesque Hussainsagar lake front but it was the finish line at the Balayogi Stadium (also known as the Gachibowli stadium) which convinced me that this race will soon become the largest and fastest growing race in India.  The finish line was as well organized as the Comrades Marathon finish line (and Comrades has had an 87 year head start). One experiences an incredible high when running into a world class stadium which has hosted the National Games, the Afro-Asian Games and the World Military Games.  

The volunteer who handed over our finisher medals also reminded Neepa and me to go and pick up our after-race meal.  He said this so politely that it seemed that we were his personal guests at his home.

This was truly a race of the runners, for the runners and by the runners. 

As Neepa and I sat on the stadium steps, watching runners come into the finish, enjoying our fruit juice, sandwiches, cakes and cookies, I reflected on the life of the Nizam.  The world’s richest man had never travelled outside of his country, he used to dress like a pauper and carefully count the number of cookies he served his guests. He used to knit his own socks and bargain with stall holders over the price of a soft drink. He used a walking stick which was so old and broken in so many places that it had to be held together with string. 

The owner of the world’s greatest fortune was also perhaps the world’s greatest miser.  Some would argue that he was an able administrator who was frugal, thrifty and loved by a large portion of his subjects, but the tragedy is that he ended up being simply remembered as a super-rich eccentric miser. 

Did my cherished desire, from the days of my youth, to be as wealthy as the Nizam of Hyderabad make sense anymore?

Well, it wasn’t about the money anymore but there was just this question of having all those additional wives....

In 1794, the 3rd Nizam of Hyderabad was fighting against the Marathas lead by Nana Phadnavis.

The Nizam’s 1,10,000 strong army met the 1,30,000 Maratha soldiers in battle.  At the end of the first day of fighting the Nizam’s army had gained ground but whatever advantage the Nizam had gained in the battle was short-lived. 

The Nizam had brought to the battle field, his favorite wife, Bakshi Begum, and the rest of his oversized zenana. 

According to John Zubrzycki, Bakshi Begum became so frightened by the booming of the cannons and the sight of dying men that she blackmailed the Nizam by threatening to ‘expose herself to public glare’ unless he took her and the rest of the zenana to shelter inside the fort.  The Nizam decided to leave the battlefield.     

In the confusion, a Maratha night patrol stumbled upon the Nizam and his entourage.  The Nizam tried to escape but found himself trapped in the fort.  The Nizam consequently lost the battle and was forced to sign a treaty.  He had to give up several territories and give an indemnity of 30 million rupees and give up his prime-minister as hostage.

As we made our way back to the hotel after having enjoyed a wonderful run, I counted my blessings. I am a reasonably rich man, I travel all around the country and the world to run, I have two wonderful healthy kids and finally, I love my one and only wife who always leads me into all my battles. 

I would not exchange this wonderful life for anything.

The Immediacy of Now

Men are as forgetful and heedless

In their waking moments

Of what is going on around them

As they are during their sleep

Fools, although they hear,

Are like the deaf;

To them the adage applies

That whenever they are present

They are absent.

-Heraclitus

I recently wrote an e-mail to my dear friend, Nikki Campbell.  Nikki is South African and has run over 12 Comrades Marathons. She encourages runners all over the world by maintaining one of the best web-sites pertaining to Comrades Marathon training: www.alsoranrunners.info

In my e-mail, I shared with Nikki all my training plans for Comrades 2012.  I told her how I planned to train to be stronger than ever and to run faster than ever.  I told her about the planned gym sessions, yoga sessions, long runs, speed runs and hill sessions.

She totally agreed with my approach but added, “Don’t over think it though Amit, just have fun out there”

I think Nikki offered a wonderful insight into the way our mind works. 

Osho says that most of the time we are blind to the present.  The mind sometimes cannot see that which is very near. It can only see that which is very far. Our mind always longs for the distant, never for that which near. That which is distant attracts us, makes us obsess about it, it goes on calling us, inviting us.   It gives us dreams and hopes and fills us with the possibilities of pleasure.  And in our craze to make the future right, we miss the present. We are full of expectations about the future and we keep missing the present. 

And finally when we do reach the goal, that which we used to know is now distant, now has an appeal, now something worthwhile. We long for the place from where we came. We long for the past.  But by then, not only have we lost what we had but we have also missed the beauty of the journey.

If I only think and obsess about that one day in June 2012 when I hope to run Comrades, I might simply miss the pleasure of all the days in-between. I should enjoy and celebrate each and every run from now until the day I run Comrades.

If I get caught in a certain thought process, I become closed to the present. I find that during every gym session, I am thinking only about Comrades day.  During every speed & hill session, I am thinking only about Comrades day. During every Yoga session, I am thinking only about Comrades day.

Of course, one cannot make it to the finish line on race day unless one has a plan.  But if I, as a novice runner, make race day my obsession, I will perhaps not enjoy the journey to the race day. And if I don’t enjoy the journey then, I have missed the beauty of this life. 

Osho share this story about a pilot who was flying over California.  The Pilot tells the co-pilot, “Look down at that beautiful lake. I was born near it. That is my village.”

He pointed to a small village just perched in the hills near the lake, and he said, “I was born there. When I was a child I used to sit near the lake and fish; fishing was my hobby.  But that time, when I was a child fishing near the lake, always airplanes used to fly in the sky, passing overhead, and I would dream of the day when I would become a pilot myself, I would be piloting an airplane.  That was my only dream.  Now it is fulfilled, and what misery! Now I am continuously looking down at the lake and thinking about when I will retire and go fishing again.  That lake is so beautiful...”

Nikki is right, we must not lose the present in search of the future. One must wake up every day and go out and simply enjoy the run.  There is so much pleasure in simply doing yoga, strength training, hill-training and speed sessions, each for its own sake!

Kalidas wrote: 

Look to this day!

For it is life, the very life of life.

For yesterday is but a dream

And tomorrow is only a vision

But today well lived makes every yesterday a dream of happiness

And tomorrow a vision of hope.

Look well, therefore, to this day.

I need to plan for the future but I need to live in the present because if I continuously focus only on that one single day, I might miss all the wonderful miraculous pleasure which running brings me every single day.  I might miss the present.

I have heard a story which may not be true but it is said that when Michelangelo was painting the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, he would sometimes get tired and bored of lying on his back high on the scaffolding facing the ceiling with the paint continuously dripping onto his face and body. 

From the top of the scaffold, he would see that every day a pious old blind woman would be brought to the Chapel in the afternoon when the Chapel was empty.

Somebody would bring her and then leave her there and she would spend the whole afternoon in the empty Chapel praying.

One day on a hot afternoon, when he was working on the ceiling he felt like taking a break.  He looked down and saw the old blind lady kneeling down in the chapel below and chanting her prayers. The Chapel was totally empty.  

He decided to play a prank on her and from the top of the scaffold shouted, “This is Jesus Christ, pray to me and I will perform miracles.”

The old blind woman kept kneeling, clasping her rosary and chanting her prayers and offered no reaction.

Michelangelo wondered what was wrong with her and shouted louder, “This is Jesus Christ, pray to me and I will grant all your wishes.”

The old woman kept kneeling and clasping her rosary but in an angry tone said, “You shut up! I’m not talking to you.  I am talking to your mother.”

Heraclitus said,

“Fools, Although They Hear,

Are Like the Deaf;

To Them the Adage Applies

WHENEVER THEY ARE PRESENT

THEY ARE ABSENT.

If I get preoccupied solely with the future, I will be the fool who miss the gifts of the present. The present is equally, if not more, important than race day... Don’t over think it, just have fun out there...every single day.