Spicing Up My Run

After a few years of running, I have made my run not only about the distance, the pace, or the time on the Garmin. I weave stories out of it.

I like to create little stories from my runs. Some come from my daughter. Some come from the streets of Kathmandu. Some come from my memories. Some are simply things I notice along the way. These little stories make my run interesting. They give meaning to the kilometres. They make the journey lighter.

Take today's run. As we all know, the distance is never fixed. But when Garmin showed '13.99' km, I stopped it.

Why?

Because my daughter wanted my run to end at .99.

I had actually run another 700 metres before reaching my destination. But I stopped the Garmin at 13.99. I could have recorded 14.69 km or more. 

But then I would have spoiled the story. Sometimes, it is these little things that make running fun.

A few days ago, I was running along the Bagmati River. I went out and came back along the same route.

This happened because of another question from my daughter: "Why do you always run in a circle?”

I had never thought about my running routes that way. So I decided to show her that I could run in a line too. I ran along the river and returned on the same route.

There was no training strategy behind it. I simply wanted to prove a point to my daughter. The running route does not have to be circular. It can also be linear.

And then there was my recent run to Bungamati. I ran towards Karya Binayak and crossed the suspension bridge towards Bungamati. I had never entered Bungamati from that side before. The town was already awake. People were busy with their morning worship. I love the way Newars begin their mornings. They pray and worship at their doorsteps, often in front of a small shrine or a little deity. Sometimes I feel that God does not live far away. God lives in those houses.

I ran through the narrow brick-paved alleys of Bungamati. It was deeply nostalgic. Then I noticed the smell. The wet summer air, the humidity, the limited sunlight reaching the narrow streets, the sweat of farmers, and the grains stored inside the houses created a very familiar smell. It smelled like childhood. I was not just running through Bungamati. I was running through a memory. This is what I have come to love about running. The kilometres keep adding up, but so do the stories.

My running distance has increased over the years, but recently I feel that I have reached a plateau. The numbers are not growing as quickly as they used to. And I am completely fine with that. Growth does not always have to be upward. There is also value in maintaining what you have built. The purpose of my running is not to chase endless improvement—more kilometres, faster times, bigger races, and another target after another.

I am not that ambitious anymore. If I can maintain this healthy habit, keep moving, keep exploring, and keep enjoying the journey, I am more than happy. This is another story I tell myself.

Perhaps running does not always have to be about becoming better than yesterday. It does not have to be. Now, for me, running is for fun and to collect stories.

Stories about culture.

Stories about the small towns around Kathmandu.

Stories about old streets and temples.

Stories about my daughter.

Stories about my health.

Stories about my memories.

And stories about myself.

Some of them are very small. Some are almost abstract. I see something, remember something, connect a few dots, and suddenly there is a story.

These stories have become part of my running.

They motivate me to put on my shoes and go out again.

They make the difficult kilometres feel lighter.

They make me curious about where the road will take me next.

And perhaps that is what keeps me running.

Not just the distance.

Not just the fitness.

But the stories that are waiting to be discovered along the way.

The story of 13.99.

The story of a circular runner trying to run in a straight line.

The story of Bungamati, its morning worship, and its familiar smell.

The story of a body that is no longer chasing endless improvement but is simply grateful to keep moving.

Running gives me these stories, and I keep collecting them.

Some, I tell myself.

Some I tell my daughter.

And some I tell you through this blog.

I will continue to run, my running stories will continue and I will continue telling the stories I find along the way. Keep tuned!