In the Rhythm of Strides, I Found Myself

In the Rhythm of Strides, I Found Myself

   April 06, 2025       Ankur Jangra

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One impulsive run, ten parts, and countless emotions—a story of how a street-side snack turned into a heartfelt journey through the lanes of growth. Sometimes, a vada pav leads you not to regret but to rediscovery. A guilt-trip that turned into the most meaningful run of my life.

Today, I completed the best lap of my life that I have lived until now — a 5.20-kilometre run in 35.4 minutes. I know that it’s not that great, but I definitely know that it's not the worst either. But whom am I comparing myself with? Someone else? Really?

It took me some years to understand the true meaning of competition. The one true in nature is the one you have with yourself. I know that motivated you, right? Well, that’s what the truth is. You become better when you better yourself (again, a nice one 😉).

So, my run wasn't a planned one today. I actually wanted to hit the gym for the only body part waiting to be trained this week, which was arms. But somehow, my thoughts—or say, my cravings—pushed me into ordering vada-pav and a sandwich for evening snacks around 6:30. Actually, that’s what the problem is with me: I try to keep the balance in my life overall, but then comes a day when I go to extremes for something or the other, and today it was my tummy. Ab swad swad me kha to gaya and then I realised that what just happened in the past few minutes was not just snacking but, so to say, overeating. And it was then that I thought—a run is something that could help me get away from my guilt and back to normal.

Did some warm-up stretches at home, laced up my shoes, and headed downstairs. My run started at 8:10 PM. For easier explanation, let us divide the whole route into 10 parts.

Part-1: The Warm-Up Straight

This part consists of a plain, levelled road—perfect for gaining momentum. This is also the part where I try to get my breath in sync with my body movements. This part is around 200 metres. I started with normal steps, not too fast. This is the easiest part, you know, when it comes to level, but trust me, its placement makes it the most crucial one. Why so? Someone who runs will understand how important it is to get your breath in sync in a run that consists of elevation (both uphill and downhill) as early as possible.

Part-2: The First Climb

The reason I stated part-1 to be the most important one is because after just 200 metres, part-2 starts, which is an uphill one. Now, the crucial part here that I’ve learnt over the years of running is to not take it to the ego and let your body adapt to the flow. It is but natural that as the elevation increases, your strides are bound to shorten. And that’s actually the key—just let your strides become shorter but make sure those aren’t too slow (as you are still at the start of your run, so you do have that much energy to expend easily). Also, another thing that naturally happens is that the bend in your back/body increases with elevation. In my case, that helps—bending a little, just like giving respect to the uphill. It’s like surrendering to a mountain in such a way that I can summit it while keeping its rules and regulations in mind and my ego down below. This part was again around 500 metres, which was doable as I was still in the initial stage of my run. Finishing part-2 was a great feeling as I knew now I had a good breather time ahead.

Part-3: The Joyful Descent

Part-3 started, and it started with a bang. The best thing about having elevations in your running route is that if it gives you an opportunity to climb up, it also gives you one to trail down. And I personally enjoy this part more, as now for almost 150 metres I have a downhill path, and post that, for almost 200 metres, it’s a plain journey. Now it’s obvious that if your strides are shortened in an uphill track, they are bound to increase—or rather double—when it’s the reverse. But here is the catch: with some little amount of experience I have from my own running history, I’ve realised that you shouldn’t let your body loose or accelerate down too quickly. Because this is the time when I usually used to miss out on my breathing patterns. Again, running is all about breath control. Slowly and gradually, I let my strides increase. With every stride, I also try bouncing a little, as that gives me a little joy—like how Hrithik might have felt in Krrish with those mighty jumps. I enjoy this part like a kid. Remember how a 3-year-old likes to run when his/her parent is chasing after them? I truly love this part 🙂. Then as the levelled part arrives, I gear myself up for the next.

Part-4: The Tough Climb

Now all the lovely times are gone with the last part, and the next difficult part of the run arrives. This is the mighty uphill trail, around 600 metres to cover. Well, this looks to be a difficult part, but considering that my body has just experienced an uphill climb in part-2, it already knows how to adjust. All I need to do is follow three simple things:

• Surrender and bend myself a little
• Shorten my strides
• Keep breathing consistently in sync with the movement of my body

One thing that I didn’t feel in part-2 but felt in this part is the transitioning phase when I’m about to end the uphill segment and enter a levelled one. Here, the body gets confused, as it’s not a sudden downhill like the one between part-2 and part-3.

Part-5: Midway & Mind Games

This part is a combination of levelled roads with very little downhill, and the end of this part marks the halfway point of the run. In this phase, the tricky part isn’t breath control but controlling your body. I’ve felt that during this phase, I start to lose out on my posture. This is where my mind tells me to move faster to finish quickly, but my body is already under inertia, along with the downhill gravity pushing me forward and eventually causing me to lose posture. The phase where the sync between shoulders, arms, and legs becomes a little distorted. But the run isn’t over yet, and to get myself back on track, here’s a trick I apply—might sound weird, but I start noticing everything around me, which I usually don’t in other parts. I notice the cars, the people—some chilling around, some smoking, some with their kids, some secretly with their lovers, and some with the local street vendors. This wasn’t planned or read somewhere; it’s something I discovered randomly one day and applied in the next run cycle. I kept applying it because I got results. Well, that’s how your body works—it just needs patterns. Once it gets the code, it loves to follow it. So I kept noticing others, at times even passing smiles to some old uncles (because only those are the ones who smile back 😂), and I noticed that I was at the end of this phase and just had to take a U-turn to return.

Part-6: The Longest Uphill

Now that you’re still reading, I’m sure it’s not boring to you and you’ve definitely formed a rough mental image of my path. You’ll realise that the next part is again an uphill trail—and the longest one. During this part, I start to feel the fatigue more, the energy drain kicks in, and thoughts creep in like: Should I stop? Since I was distracted by noticing things in the previous part, I looked up again to see how much is left—and one look shattered me. My first thought was, Bhai, ye part to aadha bhi nahi hua ab tak. You know, these are the thoughts that arrive and try to pull you back to rest. But the moment you shake yourself up and give your mind a warning—You better shut up and let me finish this—just 9–10 strides after that, I saw my rhythm was back, my strides were regular, and my focus was sharp again. Although to an outsider, it might look like I’m barely running—it’s just me slowly placing one step after another to reach the end of this uphill journey.

Part-7: Momentum Overload

Reaching the end of that is like hitting a jackpot. Because now comes the biggest downhill, followed by some levelled stretch. This is the time when I try to reduce my total run time. I increase the length of my strides, making sure I take full advantage of inertia and gravity. This part, though the lengthiest, doesn’t feel like it. It actually ends very quickly. That’s because the continuous downhill isn’t letting my mind think of anything else—it’s like someone’s pulling me forward with a rope tied to my core, and I don’t have the strength to resist.

Part-8: The Short Killer Climb

This part is just 100 metres, but it’s again the peak of the uphill that we touched at the end of part-2. Remember the struggle to reach there and the joy of finishing it? Well, the bad news is that by now, 3/4th of your run is done. 95% of your energy is drained, and now you face an uphill run that’s only 100 metres but feels like a kilometre. I might be exaggerating, but it really feels that way. All you can do here is push yourself up and focus through the distorted steps. Overcome the pain in your legs or any part of the body. Strangely, the previous rules of bending your body and shortening your strides don’t work for me here. This phase is just a mental battle between two thoughts. My body is done. But the idea of completing the final uphill motivates me, and somehow, I manage to reach the end.

Part-9: The Confidence Boost

You know that confident feeling—90% of the run is over and you’re going downhill toward the finish. No need to push yourself now, your body is following gravity and inertia. Thoughts pop in like, Let’s slow down, end on a lighter note, catch our breath. But remember what I said earlier: I try to keep balance in life, but then comes a day when I go to extremes. Well, maybe today was that day. If I push myself here, I might experience something I’ve never felt before. That thought was enough. I geared up and, in my best rhythm, slowly began to accelerate.

Part-10: The Final Sprint

The last, most difficult, and best part. Approximately 100 metres, levelled. Until today, I used to end my runs slowly, decelerating in control. But today, I went the other way—I sprinted. I don’t remember the last time I had a complete sprint, but today was one. And just when I thought this could be the day I hit my extremes, nature gave me a sign. A kid around 11–12 years old came cycling alongside, trying to race me. Now, I’ve got Haryanvi roots. The boy challenged me—how could I let that go? Somehow, we exchanged a glance and silently agreed: this is a race. Between that moment and the end, I don’t even remember having a thought. Now if I say I won, it’d be too dramatic—but the fact is, I lost by 7–9 metres because I stopped at my society gate. The kid smiled and rode away.

Huusshhhhhh.

Felt that adrenaline rush? If yes, I suppose you ran with me too 🙂

When I stopped—rather, when I finished my run—and started circling the society with slow-paced walks to cool down, I realised that in my previous runs, whenever I felt I couldn’t complete them, I used to slow down at the end. I never challenged myself. Today, thanks to that kid, I picked up pace and pushed myself to an extreme I’d never reached before. Today, I realised that there’s something beyond this structure of bones, muscles, and mind. Maybe it’s a combination of all, or maybe something else entirely. But something that comes together to push you past what you thought was the limit. And that’s how life is—full of uphills and downhills, both challenging and rewarding in their own ways. Sometimes, a vada pav doesn’t lead to regret—it leads to rediscovery. A guilt trip that turned into the most meaningful run of my life.

Today, thanks to my 5 km run, I felt like I was on top of the world—my own world, not comparing with others. While describing this to my wife, I told her, “Shruti, I’m a very different person today. I feel like I was born different. It feels like a sense of accomplishment after a long time—this is the fastest I’ve ever run.” I know I trouble her with my constant gym pump checks, my gradually flattening (invisible) abs… so after I bragged for a while, she said, “Bas kar ab, khud ko nazar mat laga.” And I replied, “Shruti, aaj to main jitna bolu utna kum hai. I could write a book on this!” (Just said it casually.) She replied, “Jao, likho fir fatafat.”

I took a deep breath and thought—okay, let’s just do it. Deep down, I knew I could write this today. You know, the last time I wrote something was on Nov 4, 2021. Yeah, a long, long time ago. I wondered if I could ever write again. That was Nov 4, 2021… and this is April 6, 2025. It was around 1 AM when I discussed this with her, and it’s 3:55 AM now. And here I go, ending this very personal blog after 3 years, 5 months, and 3 days. Once again, thanks to that bicycle kid—and my wife—for being the best catalysts in this journey of my RUN.

On last note, borrowing few lines from the ending of movie Chhaava:

मन के जीते जीत है मन के हारे हार,

हार गए जो बिन लड़े उनपर है धिक्कार |