Truth is stranger than fiction

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 ...