Sunday's weekly run started from Chestnut Avenue and down the woods towards Bearwood Road. The initial stretch goes past some playgrounds and tennis courts, but as I progressed further the trail became narrow and surrounded by dense foliage. Scary if there were animals around so I quickened my pace to reach Bearwood road. But reaching it made me realise I was on to a state road with 50 mph restriction and no pathway. with cars wheezing past, evening time, with no reflector vest, I realised my mistake immediately. Being a single carriageway some of the cars had to stop to let cars coming from opposite to cross.
Relief now that I was on Sandy lane and again that seemed to end abruptly in another trail, but a family coming back from a playground directed me ahead to Barkham road. By now I had done 1.5 miles. Went slight downhill and back to tar road and onto Barkham road.
Barkham road had lot of traffic and due to repair work, even dusty. By the time I took left onto Woosehill lane, I had completed 2.5 miles and was going on a song. the first 1-2 miles are always the difficult.
But the next part up Meadow and Murray Road was a climb and slowed me down. My aim to complete in 36 min at 9 min pace was looking to be difficult. Reached Oxford road and now it was a smooth run onto Reading road, I was overtaking 15-20 cars standstill all waiting to get onto Reading road.
Once on Reading road, I looked at my watch and I had already crossed 30 min and legs were hurting due to running on the uneven pavement, kept pushing as I had to reach Morrisons on Woosehill. Met an old man on the way, who smiled in an appreciating manner and gave way on the narrow footpath. Made me rush to complete my first breaking the 4-mile barrier, time 37.18. Phew.. the sense of achievement is nothing compared to the loneliness of the long-distance runner.
My coach from Reading Roadrunners just finished two races, the Portland Bill coastal path half marathon in 2:56 and Bramley 20 mile in 3:18, all at the age of 70 plus.. it put my effort in perspective though.
Thursday 12 March 2009
Punha ekda Konkanachi vaat dharu
The thought of writing a blog been there for last 1 year.. but today thanks to a friend I finally ventured to write one and kickstart writing on issues which are closest to my heart.
The first one I chose was on Konkan, maybhoomi. And the man who took me 1000s of km from my current location in UK to my native place in Konkan is none other than the famous Pu La Deshpande. It was late after dinner that self and wife sat down to listen to Pu La's Antu Barva and thats when Konkan flashed in front of our eyes and brought back memories... of some of my childhood days spent in my village, Aros, which is near Sawantwadi. One of the summer vacations I stayed there for a week and understood the way of the village man. Taking buffaloes to the river for their bath (and ablutions) was quite a task.. but enjoyable. Sitting at the family shop in the Aros bazaar, I came in close contact with the village folk.. I was introduced as the cousin from Mumbai. Some of them fondly recalled that I was son of 'Anna' Kamat as my father was known in the village which he left in the 1950s to settle in Mumbai.
There is an Antu Barva in many of these villagers.. who are quite poor, but have an opinion on anything and everything. When railway finally came to Konkan, Goa.. this man still remained away from it. It was constructed probably by Telugu labour force which moves around with their families. While our Antu sat down with his bidi (udhar chi) in the cool shade in the bazaar talking of what some person in Sawantwadi or Vengurla making money.
But the lack of industry has its own way of keeping Konkan beautiful. My bath used to be a wonderful experience.. standing under a coconut tree, taking hot water from the 'hundi' sitting on a fire.. to going and getting the cold water from the well nearby. Later half of the mornings was spend in constructing the 'gotha' for the buffaloes.. that time the house flooring was of 'shena' or cow dung. But it used to be so cool in the afternoon to sleep on such a floor. I still lament the fact that today tiles have replaced the 'shena'. there used to be a verandah with a stone seat.. i could sleep there and read my novels.. while the house dog would stay below always hungry for some tit bits from me. Or ready to go with me on a walk to the 'tali' or pond which was 300-400 m away up in the fields. Once I even went and had a bath there.. and I still remember the scent in the air and the cold water flowing down my body.
Konkan is because of its people who are satisfied in what they get rather than join the rat race of big cities like Mumbai. Today if one of my uncles would not have made a choice to remain back in the village I would never have had such beautiful memories..
So next time I go, it will not be a flying visit but to stay for a week and let my daughter also experience Konkan as it needs to be experienced.. 'nivant' and preserve beautiful memories of the Kamat household and be called the grand-daughter of Anna Kamat.
The first one I chose was on Konkan, maybhoomi. And the man who took me 1000s of km from my current location in UK to my native place in Konkan is none other than the famous Pu La Deshpande. It was late after dinner that self and wife sat down to listen to Pu La's Antu Barva and thats when Konkan flashed in front of our eyes and brought back memories... of some of my childhood days spent in my village, Aros, which is near Sawantwadi. One of the summer vacations I stayed there for a week and understood the way of the village man. Taking buffaloes to the river for their bath (and ablutions) was quite a task.. but enjoyable. Sitting at the family shop in the Aros bazaar, I came in close contact with the village folk.. I was introduced as the cousin from Mumbai. Some of them fondly recalled that I was son of 'Anna' Kamat as my father was known in the village which he left in the 1950s to settle in Mumbai.
There is an Antu Barva in many of these villagers.. who are quite poor, but have an opinion on anything and everything. When railway finally came to Konkan, Goa.. this man still remained away from it. It was constructed probably by Telugu labour force which moves around with their families. While our Antu sat down with his bidi (udhar chi) in the cool shade in the bazaar talking of what some person in Sawantwadi or Vengurla making money.
But the lack of industry has its own way of keeping Konkan beautiful. My bath used to be a wonderful experience.. standing under a coconut tree, taking hot water from the 'hundi' sitting on a fire.. to going and getting the cold water from the well nearby. Later half of the mornings was spend in constructing the 'gotha' for the buffaloes.. that time the house flooring was of 'shena' or cow dung. But it used to be so cool in the afternoon to sleep on such a floor. I still lament the fact that today tiles have replaced the 'shena'. there used to be a verandah with a stone seat.. i could sleep there and read my novels.. while the house dog would stay below always hungry for some tit bits from me. Or ready to go with me on a walk to the 'tali' or pond which was 300-400 m away up in the fields. Once I even went and had a bath there.. and I still remember the scent in the air and the cold water flowing down my body.
Konkan is because of its people who are satisfied in what they get rather than join the rat race of big cities like Mumbai. Today if one of my uncles would not have made a choice to remain back in the village I would never have had such beautiful memories..
So next time I go, it will not be a flying visit but to stay for a week and let my daughter also experience Konkan as it needs to be experienced.. 'nivant' and preserve beautiful memories of the Kamat household and be called the grand-daughter of Anna Kamat.
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