Well, I am writing this two weeks after completing my half marathon. The first week was a killer after the run. And the second week… well, something I brought upon myself like an idiot.
As I hobbled into my house, broken and battered, my younger brother welcomed me with a big smile and asked how it went. (He is an experienced half and full marathon runner — and my in-house inspiration.)
My reply was simple: “Well… I am alive.”
He said, “Okay, I’ve bought a chocolate brownie and a tub of vanilla ice cream to celebrate.”
Yes — the Nobel Prize for running a half marathon.
I took a long, hot shower, almost willing the water to wash away the pain.
After that, I had a protein bar. Dinner was ready, but I was in no shape to eat. The abdominal pain that had started during my 18th km had increased. I didn’t feel like eating anything.
Finally, after nearly two hours, I ate a little curd rice and went to bed.
The Nobel Prize had to wait.
I thought a good night’s sleep would make me feel better.
Well… yes and no.
Sunday morning was better, even though I hadn’t slept well. The abdominal pain was gone. The physical tiredness remained, but mentally I felt better.
But not for long.
I had a simple lunch that afternoon. The brownie and ice cream celebration finally happened.
And then things started again.
The pain returned. My bowel movements became erratic — loose motion combined with sharp, on-and-off pain for the next three days.
I became anxious. Was this going to trigger a flare-up of my Ulcerative Colitis?
I prayed that it wouldn’t.
At one point, I was cursing the “wise man” who said life begins at the end of your comfort zone… and more importantly, myself for trying to live by it.
Thankfully, things began to improve by Thursday evening. I finally got a good night’s sleep.
By Friday, my anxiety had reduced. And by the weekend, I was already thinking — maybe I should restart walking from Monday.
Easier said than done.
Despite living with Ulcerative Colitis for nearly 11 years, I don’t seem to learn my lessons that easily. 😂🤦♂️
A round of store-bought, oil-fried snacks on Sunday and Monday afternoon set off my bowel issues again. The next two to three days were erratic.
But this time, I was at least sure it was due to something I had eaten.
By Thursday, things settled.
On Friday evening, I stepped out to attend a lecture on Tamil scholars. It was an interesting session and the fact that the I went out of my house for a few hours was a huge morale boost.
On Sunday evening, I visited an exhibition on the Indus Valley Civilization. A long conversation with a fellow history enthusiast put me in a great frame of mind to start the new week.
I’m writing this after coming back from a 6.5 km walk in 60 minutes.
Well… life goes on.
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