This is a story from my good old days. Days when I was still in school and did not have a care in the world. Exams did not scare me, and I always managed to study just enough at the last moment to do fairly well, and even stand first in class on a few ocassions.

But in sports it was an altogether different matter!

I had pace, only problem was it could only take me to the 6th spot in the first heat! So till my 5th standard the zenith of my sporting career was a tremendous 6th place finish in "bunny hop" in my second stadard!

However enthusiams was my twin, so undeterred by failures I used to take part.

In the 6standard long jump was introduced and I immediately stunned the whole class by qualifying for the final! I do not know if my light weight (those days I was amazingly thin, a fact which many find hard to believe) played a part or not, but I did quite well finishing 6th.

Cut over to the next year.

It was a similar script. 7th in the 100 metres heats, 6th in 200 meteres heats. But again I qualified for the long jump final. Surely to make up the numbers!

The finals began. At a corner of a green field, where we had excavated a rectangular pit and filled it up with sand. A white jumping board in front of it and two lines of lime marking the run up area, at the far end of which stood the eight athletes.

All the students were ranged along the runup and around the pit. Each good jump would be greeted by applause and a bad one by derisive laughter. In the midst of all this stood our physical education teacher, measuring tape in hand and whistle to his lips. Across him on the other side of the jumping board was our mathematics teacher who would check how we stepped on the board before jumping. An overstep and he would raise a red flag to indicate an invalid jump. At the end of the pit stood two other teachers who would determine the exact spot where you landed.

Each of us had three attempts, I was third in the line.

So my turn came early. As soon as I heard the whistle I ran, I had measured my paces from the board and my measurement was perfect, I could feel my right leg stomping the board and then I was in my jump. A monent later I had landed on the loose sand.

And then disaster, I couldnt keep my balance and had to support myself with my hands which touched the ground a little behind where I landed. The first mistake in a long jump, never make your hands fall behind you!

I still managed to cross 4 metres, but only by 2 centimetres. But at that time I was just participating, so I calmly walked back.

Second jump. This time also the run was perfect, I landed on the sand and kept my balance. 4.28 metres.

Once round two was over the scores were announced. And I was stunned to find that I was in fourth place. The three marks ahead of me 4.38m, 4,40 m and 4.53 m.

The last round. I saw the two guys before me go and jump. Both times te red flag was raised. Not that it made a difference they were a bit off the distance.

Then it was my turn. And just as I was about to start everything changed.  So far I was participating out of fun, without a care as to whether I won or lost. Now the 4th position went into my conscience. Just one good jump and a bronze medal. My teacher saw the nervous state  I was in and blew the whistle. I didnt even have time to think anymore. Had I dont I am sure I would have messed up the jump. But the whistle decided things for me.

I ran. Ran fast and stepped on the board perfectly with my stringer right leg. Then felt myself rising my hands spread out slightly raised. In one millisecond I remembered that if you moved your arms back in a rowing motion you gained some distance, I managed to do that. The next moment I was landing. I could not hear the applause that had already started, to me everything was dead silent. As I landed I was aware of only one thing, that no matter what I had to throw myself forward. And I did, I landed slightly to my side and immediately as if electrocuted jereked up and did a kind of vault ahead.

It was then that I head the lusty applause. My good friend Arko was shouting "JIyo Nattu, darun hoyeche" (Great Nattu, that was a good show). I just picked myself up and ran over to where they were measuring. It didnt take much time. 4.58 metres.

I won the gold! My friends who were ahead of me after the second round failed to improve their distances. D got too nervous and jumped weakly. A did a perfect jump and must have gone at least 20 centimetres ahead but he overstepped and was shown the red flag. S got his run up wrong and launched himself on his weaker foot and just managed to improve his distance to 4.44 m.

That was the last time I won in long jump. The next year I would'nt even qualify for the final, managing to foul up all my qualifying jumps.

But this jump had changed me. Right after that I would join the sports club. Every evening after school from 5- 7 I would run. And next year would win the 1500 m race.

I would win it for 5 years in a row. And I would represent my school at the district level, before giving it all up to study for a place in an engineering college.

I wish I had carried on, even today when I go to that little gym on the terrace of my office and run on the treadmill I think about those days when I ran. It used to be so great. It still is, every time I run I find a little bit og joy and I regret the fact that I stopped running for so many years.

I have registered for the "Dream Run" in the Mumbai marathon. Next year will run the half marathon.