Urban Stampede 2010

Experts will tell you that a day before the run is very important. You need to have good sleep, drink plentifully and have a light breakfast. Hence the night before my 5km run, I didn't sleep(who can possibly awake at 5am), ate chicken masala for dinner(protein dude) and 2 pegs of Whyte & Mackay(a little alcohol never hurts and is actually shown to be helpful). Thus armed, I walked to my pick up spot where my team mate, a freakish cyclist picked me up, who btw forgot his running shoes.

We reached in time, unlike last year where we reached the venue after the race began and still beat a whole lot of teams(shows how raring we were to win and how fit most Bangalore professionals are). The turnout was humongous, every Nike marketing professional's dream come true. The run as such wasn't so eventful. I mean yeah, there was a close finish and BIAL clinched victory from Toyota, but this wasn't exactly a race. It was only the first timers and really experienced ones who actually asked about timings, the rest (and most) were smiling like they had just had whiskey diluted with liquified laughing gas(like that makes any sense)

Those who usually wouldn't press another key without a raise were actually paying to get their asses kicked, and that too by themselves, awaking at ungodly hours and driving 20 miles away from the city. Weird people we runners are! Crazy, I tell you.

My team did quite well, timings aren't out and I don't really care (impatiently checks the organisers' website for the umpteenth time) This particular event is important to me, as it marked my real foray into this self-imposed ass kicking last year, since which I really took this up as a real hobby. Lots of realisms here. My grammar teacher wouldn't be impressed, but I'm sure my PT teacher would probably be full of glee.

For the uninspired, running events are usually good places to engage in bird-watching. Very fine plumage. I tell you. However, when the prettiest of .. ahem... birds runs past you without even a glance, doesn't really make you feel more masculine.

The event got over, we had brunch, had our pictures taken by a wildlife photographer, the car broke down in the middle of nowhere 20 metres away from a Punchur shop, that repaired all tipes of punctures, sorry.. punchurs. I reached home, had a bath and woke up 6 hours later with a stiff nick, an aching butt, dislocated collarbone(not really but I wasn't getting the third symptom*) and played tennis for an hour. Crazy, I tell you.

* there are always three of anything, ALWAYS.