Truth is stranger than fiction

Did I really finish Ironman 70.3? Wow. It still hasn’t sunk in yet. I keep pinching myself time and again to ensure that all this isn’t a dream. A few years back I wouldn’t have imagined myself doing a triathlon. I was skeptical about open water swimming and had never sat on a road bike before. Running was my only claim to fame since I have been into this sport since 2012. However, whenever I would see those athletes in wetsuits jumping into the waves effortlessly  during a triathlon race, I would often visualize and hope that I too would end up doing this someday. When I landed in the Bay area in 2017, I decided to get out of my comfort zone and embrace some opportunities here. It was in August 2017 when I tried open water swimming at Cowell beach at Santa Cruz, California. I remember gasping and spluttering as the waters were freezing here. Despite wearing a wetsuit, I took a while to acclimatize and ended up doing my first sprint distance with my head above the water. After...

Lost in the woods I was running on a trail. The redwoods were a magnificent sight and I was basking in the glory of running amidst nature. The organizers had asked us to follow the arrows marks and said that volunteers would be stationed at regular intervals.    I was soon lost in the beauty of the pristine green surroundings, the chirrup of the birds and the rustling sound of the leaves.  So much that I failed to keep track of other runners.   All on a sudden, I came to a halt. I seemed to have missed the arrow marks. Was I going in the right direction? Where were the rest of the runners?  I looked around frantically hoping to see someone who could guide me in the right direction.    I looked at the ground hoping to see an arrow mark somewhere as an indication of  where I was headed. All I saw were wild mushrooms. Beads of perspiration began to form on my forehead. I took out my phone and saw there was no signal. I almost cried ...

Running imparts some interesting  lessons that holds forte in the long run. (Pun intended) Looking back at the events that I have done, there has been an interesting mix of trail and road running. While both courses have been challenging, I realize how trail running tends to enhance your mental strength a lot more.  Runs organized in a city have an enormous crowd support and volunteers stationed at every nook and corner.  Those placards with witty lines and loud cheers work as a marvelous booster. Enough to melt those fatigue spells and break down that infamous runner’s wall. You derive strength just seeing fellow runners by your side. Makes you realize that you aren’t alone in your journey to the finish line. Trail running on the other hand does not always attract a large crowd. The loud cheer by the city crowd is conspicuous by its absence on these courses.  A chance of getting lost in the woods is pretty high if you do not follow the coloured arrow...

Swimming 1.5 km in open water, cycling 40 km and running 10 km to celebrate your b’day may sound crazy to a lot of people. Not to a triathlete. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend my 37 th year. It is peak summer in California where temperatures soar up to 37 degrees Celsius. While it’s an ideal weather to swim and maybe bike, running can be a nightmare. Probably this was the reason why I tossed and turned the night before the event. The prospect of running at noon after a long distance on the bike sent panic signals to the brain. Waking up at 3:30 am, I left home by 4:15 to reach Pleasanton which is an hour away from Stanford. The transition area  opened at 5:00 am. I racked my bike near the ‘bike out’ area-the point. Wanting to avoid running with my bike all the way, I chose a spot close to the mount point. People slowly streamed in and I began to converse with a few of them. There were experienced triathletes and it was inspiring to listen to their experiences. Before...

She stood on the podium. Her million dollar smile sparkled more than her medal garlanded on her neck. It had been a long and arduous journey. All those vigorous sessions had paid off.  She recollected those days when she was woken up in the wee hours in the morning to go cross country running. The rest of the world would be wrapped up cozily in their blankets, catching their forty winks. While she would be trudging up those trails and hills.  Her peers would spend their vacations by the sea while she would be sweating it away on those tracks in the blistering heat. How she hated him then.  He had made her cut her nails and hair short. Dressed in track pants and t shirts mostly, she blamed him for having her feminist etched away. While her peers would spend their days dressed in dainty skirts and perming their hair. “One day you will thank me for this”, he told her.  She remembered her first time at a race. “Look at the finish line and not at o...

  I took a deep breath, relaxed my shoulders and got into a rhythm. My heart beat normalized and my nerves eased.  I passed a fountain and the sound of water gurgling sent a warm fuzzy feeling. I smiled despite the heat. I took another deep breath this time taking in the fragrance of the red roses. Never before have they smelt so good. I felt no pain, no stress. It was just me, myself and my strides.  Round and round, I circled the Stanford campus, whizzing past the palm trees and the football fields. Never before have they appeared so green and livid as they glistened in the summer heat.  I ran past cars and cyclists. All I could hear was my breathing.  I seemed to be gliding effortlessly and smoothly. My watch buzzed but I paid no heed to it. I seemed to be in a trance, intoxicated by an unknown force today that made my run so enjoyable. It was 4:00 pm in the afternoon and not the ideal condition to run. Yet it didn’t deter my spirits. ...

Running always made me feel like I was living in a bubble. At least for that short period of time. It was just me, myself and my strides. Free from all that anxiety and stress that accompanied with the rigmarole of routine life. So, when I actually got a chance to run amidst some bubbles, I seized the opportunity. The municipality grounds at San Jose was hosting a 5 km bubble run. It was family and stroller friendly as well.  Along with my daughter and husband, I set off on a Saturday morning to have a blast! We saw several people lined up before the start line. They were released in small groups. Only after they crossed a certain distance, the next group was released. Snow White land : The start line was filled with a white foamy froth. Puffs of bubbles whizzed away in the light breeze- a sight that evoked squeals from little kids. Adults forgot their age and basked in the joy of these giant bubbles as well. Jumping, catching the foam in our hands, we spent a good amount ...

They might call me crazy. I don’t blame them. Who else would travel 92 km in the wee hours of the morning in a foreign land, with just 5 hours of sleep? A runner of course. Yet this was no ordinary run. It was the armed forces half marathon, organized by the US armed forces inside the naval weapons station which was otherwise off-limits for civilians. Who would pass up such a golden opportunity to run inside an area that served as an ammunitions depot for several wars fought in the past? Not me for sure. Concord is a city which is situated north east of San Francisco. It took about an hour and 20 minutes from Stanford during the day in peak traffic hours. Driving through the reserves, foothills and wildflowers, I reached Todos Santos Plaza, situated in downtown of concord. Registered runners had to pick up their running bibs and T shirt here. It was a beautiful area, surrounded with a lot of restaurants and shops. The park was picturesque with green lawns, rose bushes and a prett...

  The great barrier reef is an enchanting world by itself. I could see it through my saucer shaped snorkel masks which looked more like a window rather than a pair of goggles. In a way, it was a window to a whole new world that wasn't visible to the naked eye so easily. I had to put on a suit that made me look like an astronaut, carry a cylinder on my back-they call it the oxygen tank and wear those elongated pair of flip-flops that was commonly referred to as fins. On top of that I had to enter deep waters to witness this scintillating world of corals and shoal of fish present in different shapes, sizes and colors.  Since the time I had read Hans Christian Andersen’s ‘The Little Mermaid’, I was fascinated by the mystical underwater world. My childhood was spent on the sandy beaches watching the waves lash against the shore, sometimes in a friendly manner and sometimes angrily. I secretly hoped to see a mermaid on the shores but I was scoffed for this futile fantasy of m...

When you are in Stanford, not getting a taste of the dish is like visiting San Francisco and not visiting the golden gate bridge. When I say Dish, I am not referring to a creamy pasta or those sumptuous puddings, but the recreational area behind Stanford campus which is popular for its hiking and running trails. Being a habitat conservation, it is used for academic research and the dish itself is a radio telescope that is still in use.   Leland Stanford arrived in California in the mid 19 th century, he told his wife that these hills in yonder would make a fine race course and that’s how the dish race commenced as a tradition of the Stanford running club.  Being a runner and a Stanford student, I could not afford to miss this run even if was just a measly distance of 5.2 km. The fact that there was no medal given at the end of run didn’t bother me either.  Having been in this prestigious campus for last 8 months, I have run in the Dish in the ...

                     A sight of the golden gate bridge is always a treat to the eyes. Probably the reason why I keep signing up for running events at San Francisco. Most courses take you either on the bridge or close enough for runners to click their selfies and flaunt it on social media.  The Golden gate bridge trail was yet another opportunity to get a glimpse of this architect wonder and also run amidst nature.  I started at 6:30 am from Stanford to reach Marin county by 7:45 am as my half marathon race was scheduled at 8:15 am. The start line was at Rodeo beach, the only point where I would be at sea level as I gazed at the mountains above. I tried to calm my nerves d by averting my gaze to the waves before the race director did his countdown.   From the word go, it was uphill throughout, getting steeper and steeper as we made our way through the unpaved terrain of rocks and sand....