Strange but true. I got up this morning expecting to be spammed by pictures of I ran the Mumbai Marathon on my news feed but was disappointed to see only a few. And I wondered if it is because less of my friends ran the marathon, or probably because all my marathoner friends have de-friended this heathen who does not believe in their God. I had woken up late on that Sunday Marathon day, probably at that moment when most people doing the full would have been at the Peddar Road uphill stretch, or when the Ethiopians having finished an hour earlier were taking selfies with their forty one thousand dollar prize money cheque, or when the lycraed aunties in their green florescent Nike Airs would have stopped half way into the Dream Run to ask a police mama to take their picture on the Marine Drive Sea face. I now face the prospect of belonging to the ever shrinking group of people who do not run the SCMM. My decadent lifestyle filled with carbs and french fries has expunged me from that hallowed group, the ones who wear trackers, speak about sub fours and post their Garmin maps as status updates. The only time I will ever sprint is to get the coveted window seat in Andheri fast local. And the only time I will ever jump will be to conclusions. And the only time I will take a hike will be when told by the single lady at the bar.
Posted on: Mon, 19 Jan 2015 03:37:58 +0000
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