An athlete I am not. But yesterday, I discovered that how you run, and how you drink, are two completely different, yet inseperably intertwined facets of the Hash House Harriers.
I was invited by my friend Bryan to participate in the footrace, himself having completed a couple runs in the past. Realising this was perhaps a friendly hint at the fact that all the home cooked fat laden food I was eating was indeed creating unsightly bulges in my usually sightly body - I uncharachteristically agreed.
Now, most of those who know me, are aware that my athletic talents are limited to badminton, yoga, a little bit of running, and the all important 50-ft fridge dash. I used to run competitively, obsessively - until I realised I really wasn't having that good of a time and I had legs like Renee Zelleweger circa Chicago. My get away sticks were looking a lot like toothpicks - hence a good reason to stop. This was about.. a year and a half ago.
There is an easy way to tell a serious, regular runner from the "weekend warriors". The flippant runners.. just look better. Our running gear gets dusted off every couple of weeks to combat heredity and trans-fats, or when the athletic look is in. Real, serious runners wear the grubby ass t-shirts and running shorts, and sneakers that look like they've fjorded a million Delhi streams. Now, the real REAL serious adventure/eco challenge people - you have to watch out for them. They generally look like the weekend warriors - with the exception that they appear not to need air, smell weakness like dogs, and would cut you for a protein bar.
I was invited by my friend Bryan to participate in the footrace, himself having completed a couple runs in the past. Realising this was perhaps a friendly hint at the fact that all the home cooked fat laden food I was eating was indeed creating unsightly bulges in my usually sightly body - I uncharachteristically agreed.
Now, most of those who know me, are aware that my athletic talents are limited to badminton, yoga, a little bit of running, and the all important 50-ft fridge dash. I used to run competitively, obsessively - until I realised I really wasn't having that good of a time and I had legs like Renee Zelleweger circa Chicago. My get away sticks were looking a lot like toothpicks - hence a good reason to stop. This was about.. a year and a half ago.
There is an easy way to tell a serious, regular runner from the "weekend warriors". The flippant runners.. just look better. Our running gear gets dusted off every couple of weeks to combat heredity and trans-fats, or when the athletic look is in. Real, serious runners wear the grubby ass t-shirts and running shorts, and sneakers that look like they've fjorded a million Delhi streams. Now, the real REAL serious adventure/eco challenge people - you have to watch out for them. They generally look like the weekend warriors - with the exception that they appear not to need air, smell weakness like dogs, and would cut you for a protein bar.
Now -all this would have been intimidating - if not for their motto - "Drinkers with a Running Problem" and the fact that the run started with Jello Shooters and you're actually penalized for being too competitive. Hell, if I'm gonna have an asthma attack, it might as well be Grape Jello and Vodka flavoured. There was a Mardi Gras theme to this run, so we all recieved the prerequisite beads and copious amounts of alcohol, even an Indian wedding band played some music for us. Just when I was forgetting why I had a spandex wedgie and was in a god awful ponytail, we were loaded, Indian style, onto a huge truck and driven (not without great incident, bribery to the officials and a headache from the exhaust) - to the race start point.
The logistics are thus - Hares, earlier in the day, set out a trail to be followed (not a small feat when there are so many street sweepers in Delhi) . Then, the hounds follow the trail, and the hares, to the completion point. Easy? Hardly. Most of the signs point in one way or the other, leading most topographically inclined people to follow the marked trail correctly. BUT, the rub lies within the circle. Every once and a while, there is an indicator made of a circle, and everyone has to fan out into different directions and look for the next two points - upon finding them you have to yell "ON ON" indicating that you are back on the trail - and everyone runs after you. Now, at the begining, everyone fans out looking for the next marker. But strategic player that I am, I wait at the circle until I hear "ON ON" - or, alternately, just follow the people with the "300 Hash Races" t-shirts on. I figure they might know a thing or two. Because it doesn't matter if you're fast - there is no glory in finishing first, just in going the right way. Which, to me, sounds like a pretty good motto.
The logistics are thus - Hares, earlier in the day, set out a trail to be followed (not a small feat when there are so many street sweepers in Delhi) . Then, the hounds follow the trail, and the hares, to the completion point. Easy? Hardly. Most of the signs point in one way or the other, leading most topographically inclined people to follow the marked trail correctly. BUT, the rub lies within the circle. Every once and a while, there is an indicator made of a circle, and everyone has to fan out into different directions and look for the next two points - upon finding them you have to yell "ON ON" indicating that you are back on the trail - and everyone runs after you. Now, at the begining, everyone fans out looking for the next marker. But strategic player that I am, I wait at the circle until I hear "ON ON" - or, alternately, just follow the people with the "300 Hash Races" t-shirts on. I figure they might know a thing or two. Because it doesn't matter if you're fast - there is no glory in finishing first, just in going the right way. Which, to me, sounds like a pretty good motto.
I'm not entirely sure what I expected a course to look like in Delhi - but I should have figured it wouldn't be anything like I imagined. Because it wasn't. Through markets, slums, down highways, through a deer park, past temples, rivers, up dunes and rocks and down hills - it might have been one of the best work outs I've ever had. And probably the only one that I've ever smiled through.
After the race, and the last of the walkers trickled in, we all went back to the original meeting point, where there was a party now being held - food, drinks everything included for about 200 rupees. But first - the call the Hares up, and they have to defend the course they laid etc etc, and have to drink a big mug of beer - and if you don't finish it, you have to pour it on your head. If you're a first timer, they call you up to be introduced and ridiculed and you have to drink, if you've been there 3 times you get a nic-name etc etc. After thats over, people bring charges against other runners - for being too competitive, for walking too much etc etc. Bryan and I got charged with being too chatty, and had to drink. I had to drink one because I was new, and drank one before I knew that we were going to be drinking, and had one too many grape jello shooters.. And realised that yes, I may very well be a drinker with a running problem.
What was so amazing - was how wonderful everyone was. Everyone wanted to know when they'd see you again, to welcome you, to make you a Harrier, to encourage you and laugh with you. The mix of people was perfect - business people, expat military, only 3 from embassies, friends of friends, people who run Hashes all over the world - it was simply the ideal mix of minds and hearts. I've never had a chat about Canadian Multiculturalism with an Indian polo player before, nor have I ever sung drinking songs with a Latvian film studies student visiting India from Colarado. But I know I will again - next week.
ON ON!
2 comments:
Wow, as I settled in to be entertained by your latest blog, once again I was amazed by your experiences.
After I read it, I went to my sunroom and enjoyed my umpteenthed coffee of the morning and pondered the analogy that came to mind. How our precious Andrea's search for self resembels the Harrier race to the finish line. It is like a quest for self (we all run that race) and the hidden clues we find (or don't find) along the way. I cannot believe that in this, YOUR journey, you cannot see the clues that jump off the pages as you write. You have a tremendous talent. You must follow those clues. You MUST write (books, articles, travelogues, prose, whatever! You must use this talent and share it. What a trip it would be....for ALL of us.
mjo
"Now, the real REAL serious adventure/eco challenge people - you have to watch out for them. They generally look like the weekend warriors - with the exception that they appear not to need air, smell weakness like dogs, and would cut you for a protein bar."That's genius. I shall be quoting this.
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