Endurance

These are the dreary, sunless, grey days that I dislike so much. There is not enough fog to create that hidden feeling where you can imagine yourself the only one in the world, nor is there an inkling of sun to warm and brighten the day. My phone says to stay indoors because of the soaring pollution levels, and it is certainly more comfortable in bed on this lazy Saturday afternoon, but my running goals, stubbornness, and boredom convince me to go for my long run.

As happens many times nowadays, I have no plan other than a vague direction, and I set off roughly south. My piriformis – a tiny muscle in the backside – has been acting up lately. I feel sluggish, but hopeful that it will improve as I warm up. With my earphones in place, I hit play on the audiobook I started this morning: Endurance by Alfred Lansing. It is about twenty-eight men under Sir Ernest Shackleton on a great expedition crossing Antarctica. Their ship, the Endurance, got stuck in the ice, and their tale of survival is a good source of inspiration for people doing hard things.

I keep going south on a rather busy road until I cross the quiet East-West road which I used for my son’s driving lessons. I turn right and keep going. My target is fifteen kilometers today, so around 7.5 I need to turn back. There is nothing much to see on these roads. The roadside is strewn with trash and trees are scarce, but then I see a road to the left I wasn’t aware of and take it. I run through a small wooded area where someone planted rows of poplar trees. Suddenly, this little bit of nature makes the run a lot more bearable.

I soon emerge into Sector 94, Mohali which is a hitherto unexplored area for me. It looks like any other sector. Eventually, I connect to the Landran road. Running down this busy stretch isn’t fun. I have to swerve around cars parked half in the road, puddles of water, cows, stray dogs, and vendors selling fruit, vegetables, juice, or golgappas. All the while, the traffic is unceasing, sometimes filling the road completely while there is no pavement or level shoulder to run on.

As soon as I could, I turned onto a quieter road. Soon, three helmetless boys on a bike, who could not have been older than sixteen, pulled up next to me. This was a moment of huge fun for them.

“What are you doing?” Running, duh. “Where are you from?” South Africa. “Do you also masturbate?”

What? Did I hear that correctly? They all repeated the question multiple times. I waved them away and turned onto a parallel road.

My watch says 10km and I start entering well-known territory again while continuing my book. I marvel at how the men of the Endurance had to leave personal possessions behind as they walked, sledged, and later rowed to safety. One’s life is more important than any earthly possession. Shackleton was nothing if not cautious; the lives of those entrusted to him were of greater importance than anything else. One of those in his company remarked how little a person really needs to be content: a full stomach and some warmth.

At one point, despite their most valiant attempts and best efforts, the currents were taking them further and further away from safety. But during a particularly long blizzard, where they couldn’t do anything but wait, the ice drift they were on was blown a lot closer to a safe haven. In life, I find that the same thing often happens. The best thing we can do is trust God. Despite our effort or lack thereof, God can accomplish His purposes here on earth. If we want to reach our Highest Destination, no effort on our part can get us there. It is His work to save.

While pondering this, my own destination is almost in sight and I long for nothing more than to be able to stop. I can almost feel the warm water in the shower and taste the sweet caramel pancakes I am planning to make tonight. I feel so thankful for what I have as I contrast it with the years of hardship, hunger, and excruciating cold the crew of that lonely Antarctic ship had to… well, endure.

And then I was home. It ended up being a bit more than 14k. Uneventful, except in my own imagination.