As winter gradually turns into spring, it is time to venture out for  lovely morning runs, to get a feel of that lovely magic morning hour-when night turns into day.

The Shara Jraba has now been repaired, after almost a year, and as one passes by the

Safia Mosque and looks at those incomplete walls, the run is in. The Fashloom roundabout and then Zawia Dahmaani and then Mahaari sea breeze.

I remember so many things in the years gone by while slowly going through them in the morning hour. Not a soul in sight. As one passes through the streets, in some phases one can hear one’s own footsteps echo.

The street where I first got introduced to Chopin. That was two years ago. The roundabout where I first heard some of our bureaucrat-diplomats and was demystified and a bit disappointed. When I tried to discuss the books on their shelves-Naipaul-Among the believers-the quick (disappointing) reply was-I have not read it, just bought it.

The sun is just coming from the Eastern Horizon. Wait for a while, feeling the grass, and also the breeze from the Mediterranean. Remembered the scent of Kebabs, which one of the Libya veterans from the subcontinent, a KGMC Lucknow graduate-who went to Pakistan, then came here and served for forty years, so kindly treated me to. He is no more now, but that is-physically speaking. They yet remember and respect him here.

Hitting the pavement is a joy in the mornings.

Jaanab…(foreigner) they speak out, on seeing me in that wee hour, as they walk briskly to the mosque for the first prayers of the day.

There are joys of running which go much beyond the physical.

I remember the Wanowrie-Lunanagar circuit of Pune, or the Lodhi-Raj Ghat-India Gate circuit of Delhi or the Worli-Five gardens circuit of Bombay. The St.Julian-Sliema-Strand circuit of Malta. The Fashloom-Zawia Dahmaani-Mahaari-Dahra-Ben Ashor circuit of Tripoli is one lovely one.

Running is an interesting way to see a city giving you a feel which can never be got by traveling around in a car. Hitting the pavements, avoiding the potholes, feeling the incline as you slowly tire or the change in breeze with the scents it carries of baking bread mixed with the smell of the sea.

A change of pace is one lovely way to feel the power. Sometimes using a cyclist as a pacer, sometimes just slowing down and enjoying the views of Medina and it’s reflections on the Mediterranean from a height as you pass by Mahari.

There are joys of running which go beyond running.