A lot can happen in one week.
Oscars are won, a war is on the brink of breaking out, students get arrested for sedition over the celebration of a cricket match – yes, a cricket match. Clearly, a lot can happen in one week.
And in that same week, there's little Jyoti (well, not so little) who has tried seven diets in seven days and has lost no weight whatsoever in anticipation of the dna ICan marathon.
DIET. With just four letters, that word has enough power to make me fight back vomit. It rhymes with deprivation. And when I feel deprived, I reach out for an Oreo cookie on my bedside table. No, clearly I am not full after that granola bar. Heck, I am not even half-way there with that handful of dry fruit and nuts! All I'm craving, as I furiously type away right now, is something that could potentially give me a cardiac arrest. Yes, I said it.
So, I ended up jumping on this 'juicing' bandwagon for a couple of days and that was my scrunched-up-nose-and-about-to-barf expression throughout. Juicing, for those that do not think it is self-explanatory enough – involves consuming fruit and vegetable that are pressed into a juice. Ha! Easy, you'd think? Nasty, I say.
Shrugging my shoulders. Shuffling my feet. Muttering incoherently like a bloody Neanderthal, unable to form a sentence. You'd think I am setting evolution back a million years with my heavy sighs and rude hand gestures at work every morning, grumpy after my 7AM workouts. “Heavy night last night?” asks my colleague. How I wish! That would have made a better story to share! A grunt, a moan and vacant stare is all I can manage. That has been my state every single day since I took up the ICan marathon challenge. Which was one week ago. ONE week ago!
See, that's the thing about my generation. We look for instant gratification. We break into pouts if messages aren't getting sent instantly to that light-eyed man we can't stop thinking about – well, at least I break into a pout and I'll admit to it. And the minor myocardial infarction we go through when the internet goes down! Now, one can only imagine how I'd feel after not losing any weight after a ONE week diet! Well, I did lose a couple of pounds but you don't expect me to be jubilating at that, do you? I've had colleagues at work tell me I've lost weight and I gave them that 'faux embarrassment' look because I know I look nothing like starvation warmed over twice.
And then...I got hit by a massive epiphany while writing this blog post, kind of like a brick in the groin. Well, not really but you get the point: it isn't about the weight at all. Now, before you start snickering away at my seeming stupidity, I have always had an issue with unintended jiggle-wiggle and flab movement while running. Girls, we all do. So I figured that a one-week detox/diet shindig would be just what it takes to get rid of some of it. Well, clearly not. BOOM! And there was my first myth busted!
Next up on my to-do list this past week: my fitness. So I figured, I might as well start living at the gym because that is what all marathon runners seem to have in common. And while that hasn't exactly happened in one week, what I did manage to do was go through a list of gyms close to where I live. Grunting men and smell of sweat stinging my nostrils – I mean, what's not to love about those places, right? (Secretly hoping you sensed the sarcasm there.) And while that's taken more time than I thought because this city seems to have a gym in every block, I did try out a couple of them. You know, as part of my “tried, tested, hated and moved on to the next one” marathon-related effort. One look across at that girl running on the treadmill while I'm busy watching the Food Network on the television screen of my bicycle, and I hate her already. And then I wanted a burger with fries. The second gym trial was a pilates class that honestly felt great until I picked up a fitness magazine right after and realised that I still wasn't close to being that fit. So I decided to stick to running on Carter Road – and while I get to stare at the women with faces full of make-up and their shiny manes flowing in the humid air of Mumbai, I deal with my burning lungs and my forehead starting to collect with sweat.
One week later though, I'll admit that running has become slightly easier. While training, I can now stop thinking about muffins and cupcakes and chocolates and macaroons...oh speaking of macaroons, have you tried the new.. I digress – sorry. Nonetheless, running at the half-marathon this weekend seems daunting and yet progressively more feasible a week later. I guess, knowing that it's a challenge that I have never undertaken before keeps me going every morning. That and of course, videos like these that make it impossible for me not to go for the kill!
Right now – as my ADHD kicks in - it's just me and my Nutella crêpe topped with bananas (it's my cheat meal alright!) and my abs under that flab wondering what outfit would work for Sunday's marathon. I mean, come on, running a half-marathon and not looking fabulous? How ridiculous. And yet, I'm still clueless...