Running About

For those of you who jog/run, you may be able to think back to some memorable tours of cities you've had and just how amazing running can be in a new place, country, etc. My dad introduced me to running distance, and always said it was a great way to get your bearings and subject yourself to some unique experiences. Our first international run together was in Heidelberg, Germany - and was so memorable and worthwhile. It is noteworthy that when he began jogging/running, it was a new phenomenon (jogging for health was a new thing in the 70s), and TAB* was the health drink of choice. Of course, peoples have been running after prey, as couriers, and as a means of escape, etc., for a long time - but they didn't have TAB*, dammit. *Please note that carbonated beverages adversely impact your body's ability to carry oxygen throughout the bloodstream.

That said, I took in my first run in India yesterday at about 10:30 am, and it was one of my top 5 runs of my life. I couldn't run in Mumbai, though I wanted to. The air there is so dirty, I'd have Marlboro Man lungs after 2 blocks. Mamallapuram is quite different. The people here keep the streets relatively clean, the onshore breezes from the Arabian Sea bring freshened purity to the air breathed, and the moisture/sunshine mix adds a latent heat component to one's spirits with every stride. One note: It is easily in the 90s F by 10:30 am in southern India - so running here is about proper hydration and willpower - like running midday in Kansas . . . in stroke-inducing early August. Avoiding crocodiles on the lakeshores and seasnakes washed up on the shores should also be added to running guidelines here. Remembering hurdling over rattlesnakes (plus king snakes, copperheads, garners, hognose, etc.) on the singletracks in Kansas (and Gardners + Rattlers in Colorado) certainly causes me to completely remove narrow trails in the jungle from my list here, where there are seriously deadly and lightning-fast serpents.

Okay, so about the run. I walked to the west end of town to begin, as running is not something people do here, and didn't want to cause a scene or panic. Let me say this . . . massive ruins and carvings from the 5th and 7th Century (AD) is a great place to begin a run. After a block or two, I was in a part of the outskirts of town I had not seen. Exploring is one of the great adventures of running for me. My sweat broke early, which is fortunate, as there was no breeze at the time and the evaporating sweat helped a bit with the heat- but was really akimbo to fighting Conan with a peppered turkey thigh. The people that were around were curious and gave many smiling, and many confused looks. As is common of the many generous and kind-hearted people here, I had to refuse several offers of people who would ride up to me on their bikes and tell me to hop on, that they would take me where I needed to go quickly! For that alone, I knew I had already "arrived". So, I'd try to explain as I'd run, with bicyclists aside that I was running for health, exploration, meditation, reflection, self-analysis - all the things one runs for, or from. All this while passing ruins unearthed 200 years ago by the British, which had previously been buried in sand for centuries. Echos of a past people - with their descendants all about. Fortunately, the road led to an 85 year old goat-herder (with his 17 goats) just outside of town. He immediately swung his arms and said, "Running!", with the excitement and understanding. I paused momentarily, gave a friendly greeting, and waited as he explained to the bike-riders what I was up to. They all nodded, waved with smiles, and turned around and headed back to town. How wonderful that these people were willing and happy to go out of their way, interrupting their own affairs, to take me where I needed to go - an absolute stanger, but visitor. I have to interject and challenge you all to treat visitors to our country with utter kindness, say "hi" to them with smiles. Offer to give them information or assistance - for that is the tip of the iceberg of what we get here around every corner (of course, many are set-ups to buy something, but many are not).

So I kept heading south, parallel to the shore, but inland about a mile (the ocean looked much closer). The road I was on was visually a challenge. It was dead flat, at this point a full-on sandy desert - with the near distance distorted with the heat and evaporation of water. I could vaguely see a village to the left, a gateway, and a lone tree outside of the gate. The shadow cast by the tree was providing some respite from the heat to group of people. As I drew nearer, I could see they were traditionally dressed Tamil women waiting for a ride to town. I crossed to the other side of the street, so as not to crowd and maintain respect for the accepted separation of men and women here, but one woman got up as I approached and crossed to my side of the street. She was well into her 60s, the elder of the group, and began jogging - as if to run to town. She offered a friendly wave and greeting and was laughing, along with the group. This point was already well outside of town - and was a much welcome comedic interlude.

I could see that this road was heading into more of the same desert, and was gradually breaking from the coast. Thus far, there was no point to break left in a perpendicular fashion to the beach, where I planned on returning to town by. I soon happened upon an old stone gate and archway, with eroded postings, advertisements, and who knows what markings. A rough path through sand with sporadic, low-to-the-ground vegetation led past a large clearings only inhabitants that I could see: two goats. So I went for it. I could see the ocean, and it didn't look too far, but again, the rising vapors distort the distance. Here I could remove my shirt and catch some rays, as there were absolutely no people to be seen. I'd slow down and scan carefully around the vegetation for snakes, paid close attention to the buildings some distance to my right for shouts, warnings, whatever - and made my way past the goats, who offered a lazy bleat (or perhaps a warning that they would not share the sparse vegetation!) for my efforts. After some time, I still hadn't made the coast. Man, it was hot. At this point, I was running on muscle and core effort, as the sea level oxygen counts make breathing easy, but sandy running is quite tiring, creating a feeling of sluggishness. I couldn't help but smile and say aloud to myself, "Mirage" - pronounced "Mee Rah' Gee'!!!" as Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, and others in Looney Toons Cartoons do.

The trail occasionally passed some inland lakes, which I previously could not see, and I slowed down here and exercised extreme caution, as I had been warned by many locals that these lakes had crocodiles in and around them. Spooky Boots!!! Fortunately, Steve Irwin and Paul Hogan (Crocodile Dundee) taught us all we need to know about crocs, salties, etc. Trust me - I didn't mess around, and took great precaution here to remain very safe. My care was probably overkill, but better safe than, well, a biscuit for some prehistoric behemoth.

Well, I finally made the coast, and was greeted by a wonderful sea breeze that wicked away lots of sweat and cooled me to near chill. I had the seaside completely to myself. As I ran along the beach, doing my best to find that perfect blend of hard sand - not too wet, not too soft, not at risk of getting saltwater shoe cakes - I soon happened upon a Big Buddy. This, of course, was a very friendly, lithe dog of about 1.5 years. I stopped and petted, praised this adorable tail-wagger (who's rear wiggled as much as her tail), who then decided to accompany me on my run. I had noticed she was chasing something into the water as I had approached - and this she continued as we made our way up the coast. Crabs would run from their holes and into the water as we approached, and she was lightning quick in her hunt of them. At each near success, she would come back to my side as if to say, "I'm so fast, huh? I'm a good dog, yes? Thanks for scaring the crabs for me!!!" I began to worry I was leading her up the coast too much, but she had boundless energy, 4 legs, and a hungry tummy. Much to her good fortune, we happened upon a very large turtle that was dead on the beach. It appeared to have received a fatal bite from a shark, which had completely removed its left flipper and actually a good portion of the shell. Probably a tiger shark. I looked for a moment, peered out to the ocean, heard the Jaws music in my head, and continued up the coast.

After reaching a seaside fishing village, getting a greeting bark from a dog not used to outsiders, and chatting for a few moments with 5 fishermen about the area, the fishing, the upcoming festival, where I was from, where I was going, etc. - I could see that I was reaching the Shore Temple - close to the end. I ran hard to finish, really clearing the cobwebs - and some fowl Mumbai lungers. I put my shirt back on as I was close to townsfolk, and walked the final kilometer to our place. I began to realize just how hot the day was - but, as in Kansas, the running helps to keep you cool. As with many great runs, one can see much of their surroundings, gain insights into themselves, reflect on the past, present, and future - and completely sweat your ass off! If you come to India - it's a great way to go.