March 15 - 31, 2004

Getting out of bed early on a Sunday has its rewards

SO we had a marathon in Mumbai, and it got its share of press coverage, as any one-day or seven-day wonder does.

JUST to see the event first hand, from the inside, so to say, I donned my hat and put on my walking shoes and sunscreen, and pinned up my number and took on the dream run. To be honest, I did not run most of the way.

Even in school, I was more of a sprinter, taking on the 100 metres (which I lost dismally in) and the hurdles (where I would come a graceful second or third) and the only time they strapped goal keeper pads on me and made me do a 400-metre warm up before the college hockey match, I ran out of steam after the first round and told the coach I could either warm up or keep goal.

ANYWAY, so there I was, chugging along with what seemed like a million others. School kids overtook me at the speed of light, men loped past with long powerful strides, and all the elation I felt as I overtook my share of unfit teens and overweight aunties, and even a few seemingly fit young men, vanished as I ran out of breath in the first kilometre. There were six more to go, but the Taurus in me (moon sign) overtook the Libran (sun sign) who had started questioning whether it was worth it, and I moved to a fast trot.

IT was at times arduous, I admit, especially when the sun was directly in my face, but though I slowed down, I kept going.

BY the time I finished, I had begun to feel pretty good. There is, I told myself, truth in the saying that it is not the end but the journey that really matters. Inspired by the pluck, the stamina, the camaraderie and sheer energy that prevailed, I decided as I neared the finish line, to take on the challenge again next year.

BUT while I laud those who put this event together, may I do my usual bit of carping? About how Kingfisher magnanimously distributed water bottles (in return for banners of course) but failed to tell the runners not to throw the empties around. So there we were, with kids kicking bottles, other runners stomping on them, and the roadsides turning into minor garbage dumps.

BY the time we turned off Marine Drive on our way back, there were enough empties there to float a small boat on.

OF course, I saw the banners put up by the Keep Mumbai Clean Foundation that warned us to watch out for the banana skin. How much nicer it would have been if they had placed their message around waste bins instead. If they don't do something about it, they will have to add 'empty water bottle', to their banners next year.

I WAS aghast that of the thousands of children, only a few were aware enough to hold on to their empties, and not fling them about.

YET, there was the heartening sight of rag pickers who came with huge sacks and collected the empties. A rich haul, but a little foresight, a few dustbins and some civic sense would have made their work easier too.

RUNNING on a Sunday morning does open your eyes to many things. I learnt that Mumbai has a sense of kinship, that there are more amateur photographers here than professional ones, that running is a great equaliser, and that South Mumbai's junta are as bad as the hoi polloi of its suburbs when it comes to civic sense.