Why is that when we are children and in school, we want to grow up in a hurry? And why is it that once we grow up, we want to be children again?
Got this fantastic poem as a forward (it’s in marathi, but the true essence is only felt in one’s mother tongue, and translating this will be a crime!). It is so true for my days in Pune, and which I sitting here in Mumbai, miss terribly.
The last time I was at a Sports Day in school, I was sitting at the back of a giant population of kids in my school, completely disinterested in what was happening. There were some kids running around trying for a bunch of medals, God know why, is what I thought then. Obviously, no parents were there to cheer them ’cause all this was quite frivolous then. Those were the times and then there are times like now. Schools celebrate Sports Day as some huge annual gathering of kids and parents. It is a big big event, one that is never to be missed by parents.
I attended sports day at my daughter’s school on Saturday, and it was an experience in itself. Parents were warned to come in by 8 am (yawn), and take their seats immediately after handing their kids to the teachers. Another stern warning was that no parents should be seen near the tracks or the sports day would be called off. Diligently, we landed there at 8 am, and dropped out little tot to prepare for her race. We then took our place in the parent’s shamiana, right by the tracks for a good view. The kids – ages 2.5-3.3 years – are a fantastic way of enjoying. Their overpowering sense of non competitiveness is actually so very cute. Kids running with their hands in the pocket {mine ;-)}, kids seeing their parents and stopping to wave, the kid who is leading suddenly feels lonely and lets other catch up by waiting for the mid track, kids who kept running cause they didn’t know the concept of the finish line… Amazing!!! The parents, too bonded very well cheering one and all and the spirit of any competition that they would have harboured evaporated immediately. The parent’s races were again so overtaken by this spirit that people were actually enjoying the prospect of just the running. Yours truly finished the race, with a tumble on the ground in the mass of fathers running for their kids! And the mother didn’t hear the whistle and hence ended up a on the starting block!
But the gem is what my daughter Myra said to me after we got home. When I asked her why she didn’t run fast, she said, “No pappa, you were not there, you didn’t see me running, I won the race”. Suddenly it dawned on me, that for her, it’s the spirit of taking part, not competing is what I need to grow in her. “Yes” I said “You did, my baby, you won”.
My idea of fitness has roots in my childhood. I have lived through terrible trauma, and my sense is that a less strong person than me (?) would have been shattered. The folklore on this goes as such –
I was a PT sensation in school. Students used to eagerly await the annual PT exams. My guess is that the sight of just seeing me run was the reason for this unbearable wait. There were some kids who wanted to actually just see me doing my complete routine during this, and beg their teachers for some time off to see me on the track. We had a girls school in our campus and I have a feeling that the girls in too were very excited in watching me perform.
I used to be a bag of rattling bones by the time I reached the track. This was my Achilles’ heel, I could only be defeated here. The start of the track events was the 100 metres sprint. I have shamed every person who runs, by my awful records. I mean who runs 100 meters in 21 seconds???!!! And 400 metres – well it possibly took me an hour I guess. My PT teachers would probably have an drip ready for me at the completion of 400 meters, but I would have passed out by the time I finished 300 meters, so I don’t really know if their first aid skills!! In my whole term in school, I managed 1 pull up, JUST ONE. Embarrassing but true. Imagine the trauma I lived, year on year.
It took me some 20 years before I accepted my weaknesses on the fitness front and enrol into the gym. It’s been just over 2 months now that I have started gymming. I am now leaner and fitter than I was before. With 3% reduction in body fat and a weight increase of 1.5 kgs, I am on my way to a perfect body. Well, almost – as soon as I replace the tyres with biscuits on my abs! Anyways, my trainer has been pushing me to do all sorts of things of the exercise kind. I have possibly never run in a year in school, which I have done in the past month.
Anyways, coming back to today, have you noticed the guys at the gym? They’ll be all enthu- cutlets. 15 minutes of cardio, then hop skip and jump to the weight training bay. A few quick weights and then the fun starts. They pose in front of the mirror, sleeves rolled up, flexing their newly developed muscles. Add to this, the fancy protein shakes, nutritional supplements are all bought with a fervour equivalent to purchasing arms to fight a freedom struggle.
Strangely, fitness is misinterpreted as bulging muscles by most guys, and “size zero” by most women in the gym! Being fit today is not about endurance, it’s about looks!!!
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