Thursday, October 25, 2012

To Catch a Falling Leaf

This week I had the most wonderful sentiment expressed to me by my son. He said it in a voice of such complete and utter conviction that only a child can possess…”Papa, did you know that if you catch a falling leaf, you have good luck for a whole year”. I thought it was quite cute and innocent. It is autumn after all and leaves would be falling all around us. And then I moved on to whatever task was at hand, which of course was so important that I have no recollection of it now.
Then, a few days later, we went on our weekly bike/run ritual to the tow path in Princeton. It is really a fantastic place with water on both sides. One side is a lake and the other a canal which was dug by hand by Irish immigrants, way back. It was extensively used to carry coal laden Ox carts, wherein the oxen walking on the land were tethered to the coal carrying barges, moving coal from Pennsylvania to New York. There are places along the path where plaques declare that this area was also the route that Washington’s armies took in some important battles. I like going there for so many reasons and so does he. 
So he was biking along and I was running. I was appreciating the fantastic mélange of fall colors and how beautiful the day was. The trees wore shades of yellow, orange, red and even pink at some places. There were lots of leaves floating listlessly in the water on both sides.  At some patches on the tow path one can see really far out… almost a mile or so….There is a canopy of trees that covers the path at most places. Colorful trees and parts of the path get covered by colorful fallen leaves make for quite a spectacular sight.  I somehow get a special joy in running over those leaves during autumn.
So here I was, looking far out into the horizon, totally lost in the moment, mentally ensconced in nature’s lap,when my reverie was broken by the sound of sudden brakes and screeching wheels on Devin’s bike. I knew that he was riding behind me so I turned around alarmed and saw him dismounting from his bike in a rush, with his face brightly lit and full of joy. I was puzzled to say the least until I realized what I was witnessing. A strong gust of wind had started dislodging some of the leaves from the trees and he was eagerly trying to catch them. I remembered the remark he had made a few days earlier and looked on in amazement. I looked at the leaves meandering down on uncertain paths. Some bigger ones were coming down as if in a swoon, others swaying like a pendulum. Some were making a double helix kind of path downward others were being carried away by invisible drafts of wind over towards the water. There were few really dead and shriveled ones that came straight down like a stone. The wind was gusting and swirling and making them dance around breathlessly. It was a beautiful sight, except that the little guy was having serious trouble getting hold of any of them. As soon as he would start tracking one, another would come along and distract him. Some he would follow all the way to the ground missing out on the easier ones to catch that seemed to fall all around him in the interim.  He saw some fly away right into the water through his open palms. They were pretty dodgy and the wind made it harder still to catch them.  He was having a blast though, happy as a lark, jumping, squealing, laughing twisting, turning and whatever else he did. I soaked in the sight as any father would.  Soon enough the wind died down and we took off again, this time though, the wind and its speed and direction also having become part of my awareness zone.
Along the way we stopped a few more times and even though he is quite athletic and well-coordinated the falling leaves kept eluding him. His joy was not broken though. It was a game and he was having fun. He was happily biking along but I was getting keen on him catching a falling leaf so he would be lucky for the whole year, as he had told me.
After several unsuccessful stops in this regard and getting tired of waiting for the wind to pick up and so forth, I decided to intervene. The next time I saw a tree with lots of yellow leaves, and one that I could reach and shake, we stopped again and I started shaking the tree. Many leaves fell, well too many in-fact. Enough to confuse the heck out of our little guy, as to which ones to go after.  We tried for a little bit till no more leaves would come off and we started off again. By now my mind had become disengaged from my run or the path or the colors or anything. I wanted him to catch the darn leaf somehow. To his credit, he did not seem concerned at all. We had some enjoyable conversations, stopped for water and such and continued on, reaching the half way mark from where we had to turn back. We sat around, read a plaque with some historic information, just chatted about stuff, threw some stones in the water, wondered about magnificent questions like what is the” biggest thing in the whole wide world” or “what is light made up of” . I clearly had to dodge some of them which brings us back to the dodging leaves.
As we stared heading back some creases of concern were starting to unfold on my psyche. We had about 3 miles to go but I was now aggressively scouting for the tree that I could shake and had my antennas up for the wind speed and direction. We made a couple more attempts with no luck still, for him. On one such attempt a freaking leaf landed on my wrist and stuck there due to sweat. I did not know what to think and was kind of pissed off at it. It appeared to shrivel up a little more under my gaze but stuck on all the same. I did not have the heart to announce about my impending good luck to Devin, since the strain of the ride as well as jumping around was starting to get to him. After-all what could I have told him. “Hey dude, see for all your effort  you get nothing and here I am getting one for nothing”. That would be too much like real life don’t you think. I chose to linger on in the dream and so gently slid it away and paid close attention to how I could help him. I tried to improve his technique, asking him to not focus on any leaf that had passed his hip height and that he look up and….whatever other nonsense I could come up with.  I started shaking trees quite vigorously I must say, sort of like a mad man. He also started picking up on my anxiety. Short of plucking a leaf and handing over to him I did everything that a father could do in such difficult circumstances. No luck still.
Then as we took off again and sound of my feet hitting the ground grew heavier, I heard yet another screech, turned around one more time, witnessed yet another dance of innocence and magic,  both by  the leaves and his sprightly feet and as if in a dream sequence saw him catch his lucky leaf. It was a big yellow one. We both looked at it closely with awe and amazement. One could even see the veins on it. It was kind of cool to the touch. Perhaps our activities had made our hands warm. It did not smell like anything he said. It had a big burly stem with a sort of bulb at the end of it. It wasn’t like any other leaves we saw. It was his lucky leaf. It was truly magical.
We both celebrated with hi-fives and threw some water at each other.  I picked him up and ran some. We even plucked some leaves from the bushes. Then we drank some water and he got on to his bike, still holding on to his lucky leaf, as we headed  back on our journey.
I think he had fun all along and it was a game for him. To me it was fun too, after all. But it also got me thinking that it only takes catching one falling leaf to be lucky for the whole year. Imagine that. It is all about perspective. It takes helping only one person to change their life. It takes living up-to just one commitment to change our own lives. It only takes one vote to change the nation. It only takes one hug to show that we care. It only takes one smile to make someone’s day. And, it only takes catching one falling leaf to be lucky for the whole year.…Ain’t it great

Monday, September 24, 2012

A Fall Run

The air is crisp with anticipation for the winter. The leaves are still green but you can start hearing some crunching beneath your feet on an off the road run. Ten minutes into the run you start feeling the warmth. It is your own time and place. There is hardly anyone around. You take off the t-shirt and let the warm sun, cool air and mild wind play on your skin, teasing out familiar sensations…you have been here before. 
You are in a zone which is comforting and exhilarating at the same time. The legs are moving, carrying the load with comfort and joy. The joy of being alive and well. You take a deep breath of gratitude…that you can partake in this pleasure of running on a fall morning. How much or how fast are of no concern. There is no agenda. No competition to prepare for. You are running because you love it. You are running because you can. It is that simple.
There is water body on both sides of the running path. You get a glimpse of a kayak in the water. No there are two of them….then there is this duck that dives in and disappears in the water. You pick up the pace a little bit. The organism is feeling even more alive and well. You straighten up a bit, have a stronger hand movement and fall into a stronger pace… a little more engaged physically, a little dreamier mentally. A bicyclist passes you by. No words are exchanged, just a mild wave of hand. But you saw his face. You understand him. There are some runners approaching. Two beautiful women.  As they float by you, you steal a glance of their flat bellies and firm legs. You let your eyes rest on them for a few moments. Again a friendly wave. A few strollers, walkers, runners, bicyclists later you see this bunch of college guys, only in shorts, running like gazelles. Long strides, heads held up nicely, on a brisk run. These dudes are going fast. Lean and mean. No fat bobbing up and down anywhere. Just wonderful running machines. It is a fantastic sight. Reminds you of why you like to run. Just the beauty of the body engaged in a concerted effort of motion and rhythm. You pick up the pace a little bit more. Try to run smoother and faster. After a few minutes you fall back into the comfortable pace again. Just keep moving. Breathing in the air deeply and exhaling the fatigue. It is turn-around time now. You know it instinctively. You look at the watch…it’s been thirty five minutes. It is going to be a good one hour run overall. May be seven or eight miles. Your mind calculates it automatically. You know exactly how you will feel at the end of the run while you stretch. Aware of the effort, but not exhausted. Just the right feeling.  It is almost like having your third drink. The perfect feeling. Not too much or too little.

On the way back you speed up and slow down a few times. You pass some beautiful people. You start becoming aware of your legs a little bit. You remind yourself to straighten up a few times. Your remind yourself to enjoy the scenery a few times. Green trees, water all around you with some rowing boats. The small pebbles on the road. A few birds flying about. Now there seem to be some more people on the path. Mainly walkers. A few more runners, some pushing themselves laboriously, some banging their feet hard, some a little on the heavier side, some fashionably dressed. You like them all. They are part of this club. They all feel what you feel somehow. A shared passion for running. The Sun feels a little warmer on the skin. The air feels a little cooler through the sweat. You look up the road, seek out the mile markers, look at the watch, wave to other runners, look out for some athletic groups and keep on running. Then the last stretch. A strong effort. You push forth hard and go into a sprint, sucking hungrily on big gulps of air, trying to stretch your stride even longer and making your legs earn their keep.
At the end of it all, there is a lot of panting and a release and you lean over trying to catch your breath. There is a satisfaction in your heart. It was a nice Fall run.

Saturday, September 22, 2012

Ironman - the Foundry

This is a strange title for this article. But I will deal with it later…
First, the fun part. I successfully finished my first Ironman, by participating in the first ever US Ironman Championship in NYC on Aug 11, 2012. It was a thrill beyond belief. It was exciting, fun and challenging.
The journey started 8-10 months back when I signed up for the event on a whim and a fancy. I was totally not prepared for the 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike and 26.2 mile run that it takes to finish the event. But I figured I would manage somehow.  What followed was trying get my head around the preparation for the event. I could barely swim two lengths in the pool then. Had no experience in open water and had recently bought a used bike.
It took some figuring out for sure but now being on the other side of it here are a few things that I learnt from it.
1.       Goals Matter : In-fact they are all that matter : Whatever area of life we look at, anything meaningful can only be achieved by going after a preset goal or target. Why do we then assume that fitness and good health will just somehow flow in…? One must consider fitness goals like we do professional and financial ones. Infact fitness pays dividends way beyond and long after money exhausts its limits to affect your life in a positive way.
2.       Handling Fear : Fear is very real. Having panicked twice in cold and open water, my fear was about  “getting breathless in deep open water”. Once I recognized it, I mentally prepared for it and overcame it by doing exactly what I was afraid of. The half Ironman event in New Hampshire was where I was able to break through the very real “wall of fear” in earnest.
3.       Sometimes you alone are not enough: In my last race there was a point when I started to get concerned as to whether I would be able to finish. So I found someone who was feeling stronger than I was and let him lead me in the run. I shut off my brain and just did what he was doing. Running and then walking when it was very hilly. In about 5-10 or so miles I got my second wind and was able to manage it on my own thereafter. Interestingly by that time he needed some support. So we both carried each other when we needed it..figuratively speaking. This was a huge learning for me. We all grow up on the diet of silent macho heroes who make it happen by themselves… all the time. So knowing when one needs help and having the humility to ask for it is a big sign of strength  in my opinion.
4.       Nothing succeeds like success : Events like Ironman, Marathon, Mountain Climbing are particularly nice because they are discrete events with boundaries, that one can isolate in one’s mind and draw inspiration from in times of duress.  We will all fail sometimes or will have our back against the wall. This is life. But to be able to go back to this specific point in your life where you overcame significant odds and got a victory, can provide a huge lift to sagging spirits. On the positive side these little successes will always propel you to achieve more in all areas of life.
5.       The Foundry: Ironman event and preparation to me was the Foundry where future dreams were forged.  Yes I have the next goal. It is big and audacious. But I ain’t telling you yet…You tell me yours first J

Friday, February 24, 2012

Ode to an Athlete


I am an athlete. I haven't won any medals in Olympics, nor even participated in one. But on an early morning run, when my body has started talking back to me, sometimes, many a times I have carried my aching legs over the finish line on the wings of my desire alone. I have cut through water, pain and sometimes even boredom on my hundredth lap in the pool because I must. I have pushed my burning legs and throbbing lungs over the hill one more time on my bike, because I must.
 
My friends and family come to cheer me on race days. They see the grimace of pain and elation of finish on my face. They celebrate and they HiFive and they leave. But on a thousand cold winter mornings  I am hifiving to myself. On endless hot summer afternoons I am suffering defeat and celebrating success by myself.
 
I have seen many a sunrise in the meditative stillness of early morning. But even when Lord’s creation is still,  I find myself moving.
I am an athlete. In movement alone do I find peace.