Ashok Nath admits that he wasn't the greatest of athletes in school or college. “I would take part in all the events,” he smiles, “but I was never on the top rung. I was average.” If there lingered any feeling of unfulfillment at all, today he appears to have compensated for it with a vengeance. At 49, Nath is one of India's most successful veteran marathoners, a serial podium-finisher in his age group at events all over the country. “The difference is I stayed fit with time,” he says. “Other people's fitness decreased. And that's where the gap lies.”
Nath first started running in the eighties, participating in the few events on offer, like the Rath and the Pune International Marathons. “The first year, I got tired at the 28 km mark but still completed the race. Next year, I was fine till the 35 km mark. Your body gets used to it.” But when his brand consulting job demanded greater attention, any marathon ideas had to be shelved, and running relegated to the weekends.
Till this point a seemingly familiar tale of middle age and employment gently leading the body away from physical activity, Nath's story takes a bracingly good turn here on in. In 2005, five years after he had moved to the city from Delhi, a colleague challenged him to complete the Lipton Bangalore International Marathon. There has since been little looking back. Nath duly finished the run, and in the years that have followed has won at Mumbai (twice), Hyderabad, and Bangalore, finished runner up numerous times, and made the Boston Marathon (an accomplishment in itself) thrice.
“Today, my running has become my work,” he says. Nath is now starting up a firm but it only gets as much time as his training. “You feel good. Your body gets accustomed to that feeling. It just isn't the same without it. Even when I was actively working, I'd schedule afternoon flights because I didn't want to miss my morning workout. It becomes that important”
Competitive running can of course change the very experience. From a blithe, cathartic activity, it can become a weary one with expectations hanging overhead. “The experience does change,” Nath admits.
“When you're a normal runner you come to the race to have a good time. My problem is now every time there's a race I'm expected to win it. People ask me what timing I'm going to do. I don't want to think about it. But if you don't allow it to become a stress thing, you can actually thrive on it.”
To perhaps his own mild surprise, Nath's performances have improved with age. From taking 3 hours 52 minutes to complete his first marathon, he now regularly manages to go under 3:10. Chiefly responsible, he believes, has been his cautious, almost professional training. Running is scheduled only for three, alternate days in a week – one day at the Sree Kanteerava Stadium, once on the treadmill, and finally a long run inside Cubbon Park. Each of these addresses different, vital components.
“When you're young you can run five days a week, but as you grow older you have to be more judicious. On the days in between I swim or go to the gym. You will fail to get results and even end up with injury if you overdo one thing.”
Also critical to his progress, Nath believes, has been competing in races overseas. “Most of the races in India are not conducive to the full marathon. At events abroad I'm forced to pick up my standard and improve my timing because the level of competition is more.”
India could learn a lot from the culture of running in the west, Nath admits ruefully. “There, if you're not doing something to stay fit, you are the one swimming against the tide. The opposite holds true for India. In the west you have jogging trails, good weather, and people running around you. The ecosystem exists.”
Nath has seen attitudes change slowly, albeit not entirely, in India's big cities. “Things are definitely changing, although we still do not have societal approval. Bangalore is one of the better places because other than the climate and greenery, there are enough runners if you want to run in groups.”
Approval or none, Nath intends to continue running for the foreseeable future. “I'm now at a stage where I could take my foot off the pedal,” he says. “But part of me says you haven't reached what you can do. I just don't want to have any regrets later.”
