Running at -15C

This was my first time runnig at below -10C. My previous runs since I returned to Amherst were at the relatively balmy -2C to -4C. And, I was not prepared for -10C. My first mistake was to shed a layer too quickly. I galloped to the start of the group run because I was running late, and worked up a good sweat. It  At that point, shedding a my top layer and leaving it in the car of one of the group members seemed like a reasonable thing to do. But, as I had half-feared the group's pace was much slower than mine, and my body began to chill at a rapid pace. To make matters worse,, one of my laces came lose, and when I removed my gloves to tie them, I discovered a) my fingers were pretty numb and barely up to the task of tying my shoe laces 2) fingers expand in the cold, and its very difficult to put gloves back on in the cold. To be honest, I had learned this on one fo the balmier runs, but I had no other option. It was either that or run the risk of slipping on my own shoelaces. And, the most sure-footed runner would be bested by the combination of a loose shoelace and an icy patch. I don't know how I managed to tie my shoe-lace and carry on. Maybe beacuse I had to, because stopping in the middle of nowhere during a run in frigid conditions is not an option. And, in the last third of the race, my pacier running mate suddenly seemd to grow a new lung andset of at a scorching pace. I am significantly younger and longer-limbed than him but it was all I could do to keep up with him. And, on the icy patches he darted ahead like a prize figure-skater. We reached the end of the run not a minute to soon for me, adn then I discovered that I couldn't bend my fingers. My fingers had turned numb on the bike ride back from the supermarket yesterday so I thought I would regain sensation within a few mintes. Boy, was I wrong. After 10 minutes in my pacy friend's warm car, I began to worry if I had frost bite. Shortly after, we went inside a cafe and I had to ask a university colleague to pay for my coffee because I simply couldn't use my phone. The cafe itself felt quite cold and I didn't feel fully arm until I was in a hot shower back home. Even now, nearly 12 hours later my finger tips feel sore and sensitive to the touch. Its safe to say, I won't be running in these conditions any time soon.

The Things One Does To Avoid Perpetual Internet Scrolling

 It took me a while to learn that one can spend hours and hours scrolling the internet. It could be doom scrolling, It could be stalking attractive people on social media, it could be watching viral videos that are so inane that you can feel your brain melt as you watch them. I have upped my internet hygiene game over the years, but it feels like an uphill battle. I have set timers for twitter and Instagram on my laptop browsers, I do not have any social media apps or browsers on my phone. My most recent and expensive cope was to buy a TV to give me something else to do in the winter evenings other than doomscrolling. This morning, I also realised that I take too long to get out of bed because I get on my phone after walking up. So, from tonight, I won’t sleep with my phone next to me.  

PS: One can take ages to get out of bed on cold winter mornings even without scrolling on the phone

Numbers Game

 Today I came across a tweet that said "Biggest mindshift I've ever had is when I realized everything is a numbers game. Getting discouraged after trying something a few times and it not working is the most crippling thing you can do to yourself". I don't think EVERYTHING is a numbers game, but a lot of things are. Rejections hurt less if you have other stuff in the pipeline to divert your mind from the current disappointment. This is true of stuff as myriad as rejected submissions to academic journals and being ghosted on dating apps. The other prospects demand your attention and also carry your hopes. Now, its not easy to add to your pipeline in both the above-mentioned examples. Writing academic articles is a long and laborious process. And, on dating apps, you have very little control on how many people match with you, especially if you are a man. But, even in cases where the pipeline is running dry, the knowledge that this particular rejection is hurting keenly because the pipeline is empty is itself a salve. Telling yourself that this hurts not only in and of itself but beacuse of the context can make you feel better and also push you to populate the pipeline if you can. 

Long Flights and Podcasts

 There is an idnian podcaster who does "long-form podcasts", some of which stretch to 8-9 hours. I believe very few people exist who have enough itnersting stuff to say that its saying will take that long. But, on long flights, the usual standards do not apply. I spent most of my 31-hours journey back to the US listening to his podcasts. I don't find more than a handful of his guests, but even that is enough to keep me occupied because of how long the podcasts are. The topics are usually light enough to not require heavy concentration. As someone who is not a sound sleeper, the podcasts are a godsend as they lull me to sleep. When I wake up , chances are the same podcast is still on, and sometimes I rewind it, sometimes I don't. It also helps that I have started choosing a window seat. For years, I would chose an aisle seat so that I wouldn't have to make people move if I needed the toilet but that meant virtually no sleep since passerbys would rub against my broad shoulders. Window seats are great for sleeping, but it van be a tad convenient if you need the toilet and you have big sleepers next to you. On the long leg of the journey, the guy in the aisle seat was asleep most of the time, and when he was awake, the girl in the middle seat took her turn turn to sleep. I don't undersand why big sleeprs choose aisle seatsOn long flights there invariably comes a point when you feel that you have flown for hours, but haven't even reached halfway. Long podcasts help you pass over that bump.

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No airport blog from Mumbai this time as I had neither the time or energy for it. India trips are always heavy on the body, but essential for the soul. This time I had my share of health wobbles--two colds (was under mistaken assumption that a cold gives you immunity for a bit), insomnia, unsettled stomach but no full-blown upset. India trips are always heavy on the body. This particular trip gave me a lot of food for thought as well as impetus for action, but I am not ready to blog about it yet. 

My Personal Writing History

 My recollection of my personal writing history was this: I started this blog in 2006, alternated between two and eight posts till 2009, and gave up personal writing until reviving this blog in January 2018. A few days ago, I went through the Documents folder that has passed through several of my laptops over the years, and realised I was wrong. It turns out that I was also a prolific writer in the intervening years. It is just that most of the posts were so angst-laden that I would not dream of putting them on the blog. And, then, from the year before I revived this blog, there are the files that were part of my therapeutic journey. Therapy gave a purpose and direction to my personal writing. In the process, I learnt that vomitting out your angst can bring momentary relief but little else. While it is better to vent into a diary rather than use a friend or well-wisher as a "garbage bin" (my therapists words) venting alone does not move one along the path towards recovery and healing. I am keen to visit some of the therapeutic learning techniques and exploer whether I can apply some of them to my current project. 

Passport Crisis Averted

 There is nothing like a close shave or mini-crisis to remind oneself to focus on the big picture when one is too caught up in the weeds of day-to-day life. I spent an very anxious half-day today after failing to find my passport this afternoon. Since I am at home in Thane everyone at home got dragged into the search. I had a feeling that the passport was at home, but couldn't bank on that feeling since I am scheduled to return to the US late next week. I had to start preparing for the fact that I might need a new passport and US visa. We reported it lost to the local police and I also filled out an application form for a new passport and took an appointment for the following day. Ultimately, the passport was found by my younger nephew, bless his heart. 

Losing a passport is hardly a crisis in the grand scheme of things, but it is enough of a headache to remind oneself that if one can deal with (mini)-crisis one shoould not fret about non-crises. It reminds me of a blog post I wrote 18 years ago about another close shave that shook me out of a melancholy phase in my life. These are a few lines from the blog post. 

And suddenly I didn’t feel so bad any more. At least no one was dead. As long as there is life there is possibility. Things are never as bad as they are made out to be. As long as there is life you can always retire to fight another day.

Intentional Friendship

 There are few topics I have written about more than friendship. As a long-term singleton who has lived abroad for 10 years, friends have been a huge part of my life. My only blog post to go micro-viral (more than 30 views) written18 years ago was on friendship. After reading that post, a person who became my closest friend for the following six years reached out to me. Up to that point, they had though I was an stuck-up dick. Over the years, I have written about the different types of friendship: such as heart friends--people whom I can spend hours and days with and who are close confidantes; intense friendships that ended, with or without fanfare, but which I deeply cherish; friends that I am intensely fond of but who are not confidantes; the challenges of friendship between men and women. So, what better way to break my blogging hiatus than with another post on friendship? Over the weekend, I spent a few days with a potential romantic interest. Pretty quickly, it was clear that romance was not on the cards, but we had some deep conversations and some bracing debates. Conversations which are reverberating in my head even days after our interaction. As we were saying goodbye, I remarked, somewhat presumptously, that I felt like we were already good friends. They replied that they were not looking for friends. Ouch! The rejection hurt even more than my disappointment that there would be no romance. But, this encounter got me thinking about my own approach to friendship. My first-ever blog has a line that goes"The hand of friendship is easily extended, and need not be withdrawn". That line was written 18 years ago, and I wonder whether it is time to rethink that approach and be more intentional when it comes to friendships, like this person. Friendships are important relationships, and should be not be a consolation prize for failed romantic interests. I have had people who I thought were friends who never made the time and space for me. Maybe they had too much going on in their lives, maybe they just didn't feel we got along as well as I did, who knows? But, the seeming lack of effort on their part did chafe. In contrast, in this instance I had someone say to me that I should manage my expectations about how much we will be in touch once we go our separate ways. I don't think I would ever have the spunk or self-assurance to say that to someone, but I respect people who do. I cannot be your friend because I don't have the time or emotional space in my heart for it, or I do not want to be your friend because in my opinion we did not vibe they way you thought we did. Which of the reasons it is immaterial. And, while I might not have the courage to be this direct, this approach can be adopted in more subtle ways. I have people I feel obliged to reach out to when I am in India even though we are barely in touch, and I don't particularly enjoy our time together. And, I don't think they would lose any sleep if they came to know that I didn't get in touch with them while I was in India. Maybe it is time to say a gentle goodbye to these relationships.