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Bombay 2006 part 3
My first run in India was a good one. I hadn't run for almost three days, so the absurdity of taking to the roads at night never crossed my mind. I bounded for an hour and felt very good afterwards.
I've run twice in the afternoon since, which has left me with mixed feelings.
My second run was a bad one, but we all have them.
Yesterday's run was an hour just before the sun went down and I ran pretty well, but running in the heat is a completely different experience. It's not very hot here, 27 in our flat, so maybe 29 in the sun. But coming from the winter in England has just made the transition more difficult. I was pouring with sweat for 40 minutes after and felt pretty drained during the last few miles.
I recovered well, but this is going to be a difficult marathon to complete. During the last few miles of the run my heart was sinking at the prospect. Confidence was low.
I'd like to raise the dead dog stakes to dead, rotting dog; fur falling off to reveal red, bloated skin putrifying in the hot sun. It kept me moving. When I was running the other night, the sound of the crickets and the warm air fooled me into thinking I was in Greece or Provence once or twice. But then I got a waft of burning plastic or an open sewer. I'm not putting this place down, there's too much good here. But you have to take the rough with the smooth. The wretched and the wonderful are both always around the corner, and it makes life very exciting and exhilerating. The next sight was a family of 6 perched on a Vespa, turban up-front and mother's sari billowing behind. A common sight, but one that never fails to excite me.
During yesterday's run every single person who I ran past, or who drove past me (and that must add up to several thousand) stared at me; the look in their eyes usually a mixture of bewilderment and suprise. Since Brian Glover made a successful career in Bollywood as a bad British soldier I would have thought they'd be used to bald Yorkshiremen. Indians do stare alot, it's just a cultural difference. If you smile back, more often than not the blank stare will erupt into a hearty smile. And if you're really lucky they'll throw in a head wobble. What joy. It's abit like playing pontoon; much better to twist on 17 and see what you get.
So the heat could well be my downfall. It's warmer in Bombay than here. I've cycled in hot weather: in Provence, Australia and California. But there's always the prospect of rest on a bike, whereas running seems much more relentless. Tomorrow I'll attempt a slow, 2-hour run and see how that grabs me. And I'll try and persuade somebody to follow on a moped to take some pics.
Apparently it was Christmas a few days ago. Happy Christmas everybody.
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