May 6, 2017 - The 4th Charge of the British History Half Marathon

Today's run was sponsored by Isaac, Adam, Brianne, Scott, Justin, Jacinta, Nathan and the other AES Runners! Thanks so much for continuing to help fund the Ty Taylor Memorial Campship Endowment. We're getting so close to fully funding the endowment, I appreciate your help! Soon, YMCA Camp Miller will be able to send a deserving camper to camp for free every year in honor of an amazing man.

It's not easy to write a sentence that can fully introduce the importance of my running group. Over the years, the AES Runners have challenged me, supported me, indulged me and more. They've trained me up for my first half marathon, my first marathon and more. They've (almost) always said yes to my crazy ideas for runs. And they've pushed me to create a monster - The British History Half Marathon. And they've consistently opened up their wallets to donate to my causes. This year alone, AES Runners past and present have donated over $600. Amazing.

The British Half Marathon was born in 2014, from a desire to do a long training run on new territory. It occurred to me that a point-to-point run could take us pretty far from home. A 13 mile line on a Google Map brought me to the Coronation Memorial and the BHHM quickly started taking shape.

You can read all about that inaugural version here. It's also referenced pretty heavily here. For various reasons, 2015 and 2016 never got write ups. Here's a quick look at last year's event.

If you're paying attention, you can see it all. A bus, over 20 runners, historical monuments, note cards with "fun facts." It's all there. The only photo missing is the one from the end. The one showing my stitches. I'll come back to that.

Here's a video of this year's event.

The British History Half Marathon has grown into something special around here. The preparation begins early, with runners of all abilities training and me writing emails. An excerpt:

Depending on your side of history, Mangal Pandey either bravely became the first martyr of Indian independence or foolishly presented himself as a bhang and opium-induced traitor and mutineer as he attacked Lieutenant Baugh, Adjutant of the 34th Bengal Native Infantry and later, Sergeant-Major Hewson with musket blasts and talwar blows.  

Either way, he turned his musket upon himself and discharged a round into his own chest. It wasn't enough to kill him though, and he was hanged without recourse. 

On 6 May 1857, the 34th was was disbanded "with disgrace" for failing to perform their duty in restraining a mutinous soldier and their officer. It's widely regarded as the start of the Indian Rebellion. Or, depending again on your side of the story: the Sepoy Mutiny, the Indian Mutiny, the Great Rebellion, the Revolt of 1857, the Indian Insurrection, or India's First War of Independence.
Almost 100 years later, on 6 May 1954 Sir Roger Gilbert Bannister, CH, CBE, became the first human being to break the sub-four minute mile. 

An auspicious day then, it would seem, for the Fourth Annual British History Half Marathon.
Save the date 6 May 2017, history buffs and runners. More information will be coming soon.


Early bird registration begins today.

Yours,
Rao Bahadur Jason Coleman, Receiver of 17 Gun Salutes, HEIC, Event Organizer

You see, indulgence. And support. This is what the AES Runners have allowed me to become. A fake running event organizer and armchair historian. But mostly, a writer of silly emails. Another excerpt:

InclusivenessThere will be at least 19 of us running! While not the largest fake running event that I have ever organized, it's still a big group! Please be mindful of the fact that there are many different people with different paces and abilities on the road. More than anything, everyone wants to participate. This is a slow-paced race with lots of built in stops. 

Water, First-Aid, Emergency TransportationAs we will be running through a city of almost 20 million inhabitants, we are never far from any of these things. That said, there is no official support. Make sure to bring a phone, camera, battery pack, water, money, energy gels or anything else that you might need to be on the road for 2 1/2- 3 hours.

Indeed the 4th charge was an inclusive and participatory event. 20 runners showed up at 5:45am to collect my ridiculous home-made bibs, Indian Tricolor wristbands and board the bus to the Coronation Memorial. The fact that the runners were now a captive audience allowed me to read some notecards and set the scene for today's run. The Mutiny of 1875, or the beginning of the War for Indian Independence. See the 2014 post for more details on the history, today I'll concentrate on the run. 

As always, our arrival at the Coronation Memorial attracted the attention of North Delhi's early birds. More surprising to me though, was the sheer number of people out and about at 6am. The park was full of people! And statues of old, dead British guys. Among them was King George. Another note card from me (think elaborate descriptions of Durbars) and we were off and running. For the 2017 edition, there were several veteran runners. Memories of years past were flowing as quickly as the water from my Camel Back the year it exploded at the beginning of our run.

The first two miles of the run are not pretty. There's a strip of junked out cars, some olfactory delights and once, a steam roller that was laying fresh blacktop that we had to dodge. The first real point of interest beyond the Memorial is Delhi University. Sneaking through the gates ("Entry Restricted"), there was talk of monkey attacks (looking at you Alexa) and a quick stop to pose with Gandhi (because, India).

The first scheduled stop occurs at the Flagstaff Tower. This windowless castellated tower was the hideout of the few surviving British once the mutineers tore through town. I grabbed this pic from my elevated vantage point. I love it and everyone in it. They inspire me.

They also allow me to read them notecards, so it was a quick summary and an quote from everyone's favorite British-Delhi-Historian, William Darlymple and we were off again. But not for long. I quickly spied a group of men doing laughing yoga and insisted we join in. It was simply wonderful. It was not the first time I've spied these hysterical yogis doing their thing on a run, but it was the first time I've joined in. I've been emboldened by my impending departure and want to catalogue as many memories as possible. Today would definitely allow me to do just that.

Next stop was an Ashoka pillar from the 3rd century BC. At this pillar, I turned over my docent role to Laura, an actual history teacher. She regaled the group with enthralling history and I made a joke about erection.

Continuing on toward the Mutiny Memorial, memories of years past began to creep in. Like the first year when we cajoled the guard to let us in. And the second, when we knew he would. And the third. It was like visiting an old friend. Here the history took a decidedly revisionist bent as the cards examined the very nature of history. Who's story is it to tell? Can it ever be told accurately? Had we really already run five miles?

The next section has historically been where my "half-marathon" gains notoriety and extra miles. This year, I was bound and determined to not get lost or add too much extra milage, so I kept tight track of our turns. By now though, the route was feeling pretty familiar.

Stops at an old city gate, a powder magazine and The Red Fort were the locations of the first goodbyes. Among the great things about city running is the ability to jump in an autorickshaw at any point and rest tired muscles and cruise home (reasonably) comfortably. The signage advertising a magician at The Red Fort was a source of much revelry and we were off again.

Our revelry was soon squelched when we passed what could only be understood as a dead body. Questions and curiosity sobered us all as a brave runner went back to check it out. After what seemed like an eternity, there was a twitch and a rise of the chest, assuring him enough that there was life left in that body, but how much and toward what future was uncertain. The next mile was a quiet one.

By now we had run almost nine miles, so a break for drinks and mental decompression was quickly organized. At a busy intersection in the alleys of Old Delhi, our drink stop allowed for a lot of gawking. And almost got us run over by motorbikes and chicken trucks. Oh, and don't forget the van full of goat heads.

From Old Delhi, the route almost runs out of Mutiny material.There's a mile long section in the hot sun over an overpass (re-included in this year's run due to last year's inability to cross the train tracks any other way, adding an extra mile). There's a stretch of the Janpath and things start to look familiar. It's our Delhi, the Delhi of India Gate runs, the Kessel Run and countless other pounded pavements from countless runs with the group.

The last (almost) scheduled stop comes at the Secretariat, center of operations for the Indian government. Although it was not created when the events of 1857 took place, I like to stop to look at the quote written over the entrance:

“Liberty will not descend to a people. A people must raise themselves to liberty. It is a blessing that must be earned before it can be enjoyed.”

In seeming fully disrespect for the people of the country that they had violently overtaken, the British inscribed this scolding. However, it turned out that the people of India would get the last word. Not only did the overthrow the Raj and declare independence, but they left the inscription so we can still read it today.

The last last stop on the BHHM was added this year. It was a stop to commemorate the spot where I ran into a pole last year and almost broke my nose.

I stumbled for three steps, tried to keep running and continued staring at my GPS. Feeling like I had been punched by a prizefighter, my only thought was, “Get the group back home.” Then a more rational idea emerged. “You just ran into an iron street sign. Look up and take a moment to assess.”

Despite my efforts to plan a memorable day of running and learning, The Third Annual British History Half Marathon had taken a distinct change of course. What had started as a successful edition of a run that takes colleagues and parents on a guided history tour of one of the world’s most dynamic cities had turned into a dizzy, bloody mess. “Stitches?” I asked.

“Stitches,” came the reply. On my way to the hospital, I reflected on our running group.

I wrote those words as the introduction to my recruiting profile last year as my family made the difficult decision to leave Delhi. We've been here for nine years and it's been amazing. Our running group has been a major part of my life and I'm going to miss everyone in it beyond belief.

Thanks friends.

RUN STATS

Distance: 14.2 miles? 15.2 miles? Certainly not 13.1 miles.

Duration: 2:44:33? 3 hours?

My GPS Stopped half way, so I have two workouts for this run, and the stats are off.

For Michael! - Naked Guys, Car Crashes, Snakes and Wrong Turns

This run is for Michael! At a random discussion before work, my fundraising came up and he humbly reached into his wallet and donated without hesistating! Thanks a lot, I appreciate it. The Campship fund in memory of Ty Taylor is growing every day. Donate here - http://www.ymcacampmiller.org/donate/ty-taylor-campship-endowment/. 

The idea behind this run (and most of my runs, frankly), came from the desire to see a new part of town. I'm sure that idea would resonate with Michael, he's seen more of this city than I ever will.

We started out on familiar roads, headed toward India Gate. On the approach, we crossed a group of men walking down the sidewalk, escorting two completely naked men. It was likely that they were Digambara Jains, or possibly Naga sadhus. Each group focuses on attainment of their religious goals through asceticism taken to the extreme. No possessions means no clothes. 

I'm not quite sure what to make of what happened next. As we were crossing the street, an autorickshaw stopped to let us cross in front of him. While that in itself should have been the surprising thing (it never happens), it was what happened next which really shook me. As soon as the auto stopped, the car behind it smacked into it. After establishing that the drivers were okay and the damage was minimal, we continued on our way. Days of processing have left me at a point of confusion about systems thinking. I know we often present quite a sight in the streets of Delhi. While stark naked men may be passé, a group of foreigners running on sidewalks, streets, railroad tracks, etc., isn't. I had never considered us as potentially dangerous, I had only thought of us being in danger from cars, dogs, and worse.

And then, we saw this.

A man, asleep (we hope) on his motorcycle, parked in the middle of a four-lane highway. The traffic moved effortless around him. Thanks go to Adam for capturing the photo.

The goal of the day was to complete a long run (14 miles), visit Indraprastha Park, and see some new things. Less than five miles into the run and one of those goals had been accomplished in spades. The second goal was just around the corner. Running to Indraprastha Park is not ideal. You get there on busy roads. It's alongside the Ring Road, not far from the Yamuna. Without understanding exactly where in the city I was, I've seen the park from buses and cars several times but the green space it occupies on the map is conspicuous. The focal point of the park is a large Buddhist stupa.

The Stupa was envisioned as a symbol of enduring world peace and was dedicated in 2007 by His Holiness the Dalai Lama. It contains relics donated by him, The President of Sri Lanka, the President of Mongolia and the Prime Minister of Nepal.

Running to the park was eventful. Running in the park was quite nice. It was good to get off of the pavement and the park itself is quite big. But running out of the park...

The difficulties of the park's location became apparent as soon as we tried to get out. Like many parks in the city, there are few entrances/exits. We ran to the end of the park, met a wall and tried to shortcut out through a nursery. When no exit was in site, we turned around and Emma jumped into the air screaming. It was a snake. Add it to the list of things that could kill us on a run. NOTE: I'm just going ahead and assume it was a cobra. It couldn't possibly have been anything else.

The next section of the run was what I had feared it would be - along the edge of the Ring Road. It wasn't too long before we turned away from Delhi's most traffic-ridden artery. We did it at the Nizamuddin Railroad Station. At one point, I had dreams of crossing through the station over the pedestrian bridge, but after an a day of pushing the limits of my friends' trust, I decided not to. We quickly got lost, jumped a wall, turned around and found our way through the warren of alleyways in the railroad adjacent neighborhood. At one point, someone said that it was more intense that last weekend's Old Delhi run. They might have been right. An underground tunnel, a parade of rickshaws, the entrance to the station, hundreds of school kids, and then - Silence. Within 100 feet, we had gone from absolute craziness to complete serenity.

We had also lost almost of the group. Well, not lost, exactly. Much of the group that day isn't training for a big race like me, so they took off after 5, 7 or 10 miles. At the end, two of were left to run the remaining four miles home. It was hot, it was exhausting, it was a great accomplishment at the end of the route.

What a run!

RUN STATS

Distance: 14.43 miles

Duration: 2:12:08

Soundtrack: A collection of Prince albums, of course. RIP.

For Dr. A! - The Old Delhi Half Marathon

Dr. A came in with a very generous donation that showed up in my records after a plea that would get this run in the books! Thanks for urging me write up my travels around my Delhi. But the thanks is truly for helping to establish an on-going campship that will award a scholarship to needy children in the name of my friend, Ty Taylor. Everyone else can donate and get a dedicated run just by clicking on this link - http://www.ymcacampmiller.org/donate/ty-taylor-campship-endowment/

By the way, Dr. A is no stranger to travel writing. Check out her work for the Washington Post here.

Saturday's run marked the third or fourth installment (April 2014) of the Old Delhi Half Marathon. There's nothing official about this run, it just happens to be 13 or 14 miles round trip. There's certainly no rigamarole or pomp associated with it. Not like the upcoming British History Half Marathon. There are no bibs, no note cards. The attraction and the allure of the run is its destination.

Old Delhi calls to us. We spend our days in leafy Chanakyapuri, where the streets are wide, the cows are few and as they say in our CPR classes, the scene is safe. Old Delhi is none of those things. It's crowded, chaotic and cacophonous. It's a little dangerous.

But more that any of those things, it's interesting. Old Delhi is real. It pulses and breathes with all of its inhabitants and it wraps you up.

Like last week, the run drew a crowd. 12 wonderful friends showed up early on a Saturday morning to head to Old Delhi. Getting there was largely uneventful. We took it easy. The air wasn't great, the heat was already getting up there and we had a large spread of runners. (Confession-these are my favorite runs). Everyone comes out, we run along at a nice pace, we chat and we enjoy the scenery. At least, the scenery that can be seen. Delhi Gate was shrouded in the Delhi pollution, and from our position high on the Raj Path, we could just make out the outline. Undaunted, we continued on.

And that's when I saw it. My second most favorite font on a building in Delhi. And it was just around the corner from my first! The All India Fine Arts & Crafts Society building has an absolutely incredible Art Deco font. The letters are so tall and skinny!

Taken from the AIFACS website. I'll take a better shot someday.

My favorite. The subtlety in the U! Oh dear.

After that occupied my time for a few minutes, we arrived in grand style to the Heart of New Delhi - Connaught Place. Our entry into the inner circle was heralded by too many street dogs to count. And they were angry. At what, exactly, was unclear. Each other? Us? The apparent lack of commitment and dedication to the revitalization of the "largest financial, commercial and business centres" in the city?

We left the dogs to their platitudes and continued on. From CP, the run gets "interesting." As Laura and I were running alongside speeding, deafening traffic on Minto Road, I leaned over and yelled, "This is nice. Relaxing." The population density seemed to double or triple as we crossed the border of the two Delhis. Looking up, I saw three hornbills in flight. I tried to attract the others runners attention, but I think they just assumed my muffled yells were related to me getting run over by an autorickshaw or falling in a hole. At least I saw them. Or was it a diesel-injected dream?

And then we were there. The literal edge of Old Delhi. All twelve of us stopped for a group photo in front of the Turkman Gate, one of the five remaining entrance/exits to the walled city of Shahjahanabad, the seventh incarnation of the city of Delhi.

After the photo (and a breather), I immediately took the group on  a wrong turn. It was wrong for two reasons. Number 1: We were going the wrong way. Number 2: We ran past a smushed cat that was suffering far worse intestinal problems than Adam. Back on track, we headed into the fray of Sitaram Bazaar. We were dodging bikes, motorcycles, bicycle rickshaws, cows. You name it, we saw it. Old Delhi was positively buzzing with excitement at 7 in the morning on a Saturday and it was a workout just avoiding running into everything. At one point, it was suggested to me that I not bump into the cart in front of me. Why? Because of the legs (goat?) sticking out the back under the tarp were dangerously close.

From the Sitaram Bazaar, the route turns to the heart of Old Delhi at the Chawri Bazaar Metro Station. Many years ago, Kate and I ventured into the warrens of lanes and "go-downs" to have our wedding invitations printed. Years before that I was hopelessly enamored and agog at the smells, sight, ,and sounds of car horns honking, especially when I realized there were no cars on the street. I was passing a row of shops SELLING car horns and advertising by letting their product blast out its message.

And then, Jama Masjid.

Jama Masjid is one of the largest mosques in India and was built in the 17th century by Shah Jahan, the namesake of the seventh city of Delhi and the builder of the Taj Mahal. It's the center of all activity in Old Delhi and we journeyed around its exterior before we split off into the group that would run back and the group that would autorickshaw back in style.

The next stretch of old Delhi was more dodging and more gawking. But not too much gawking, as full attention was needed to ensure uprightedness! Today there were no goat heads, but plenty of buckets of brains. And livers. The last sight in Old Delhi this morning was a man walking out with a carcass. Over his shoulder. Fully carved. No wrapping.

We exited back at the Turkman Gate and headed home. It was a long (basically) straight trip home with not too much excitement. Which I suppose was good. We needed some time to decompress and unpack the images that will surely be enduring images of our time here in the Heart of India.

RUN STATS

Distance: 14.11 miles

Duration: 2:10:01

Soundtrack: Modest Mouse