OCD...

It was 12:37 PM!

"Enough time to get a cup of coffee before my next meeting," I thought.

I picked up my phones from my desk and as I started walking towards the elevator (I work on the 11th floor), I opened the Starbucks App on both my phones, checked to make sure that both had refreshed to the same messages / look-and-feel on the feed (a little quirk that some may call OCD)!

I hit "Pay" on both phones, smiled when I noted the balance, hit order on both phones and when the Starbucks App on my Comcast provided mobile phone did not locate the Starbucks in Comcast Center as the closest location to order from, I completed my order of a Tall Latte with 2 Shots (aka Double Tall Latte), with a few clicks of my right thumb on my personal mobile phone.

I was pleasantly surprised to see no customers (forget no line) when I arrived at the Starbucks store (in the lobby) and even happier when within a minute of arriving, the barista said, "Bala, your Double Tall Latte." It gave me sufficient time to get back to my desk, pick up my computer and walk over to one of our VPs' offices for my 1 PM meeting.

I should've probably expected it, given it was lunch hour and not many people would choose to get coffee at that time (especially if they had already had 3 cups since 5 AM)!

Most importantly, it gave me that extra moment to make sure the Starbucks logo on the brown sleeve aligned with the Starbucks logo on the white cup, after I had added to my hot drink, 1 packet of raw sugar and stirred it well with 2 wooden stirrers.

Trust me, it's not even my worst OCD!

I think that started with Numerology...

Even as my mother suggested I spell my name Lakshminarayan (and not the more common Lakshminarayanan), it occurred to me that numbers would play an important role in my life.

10 (my birth date) was lucky and so were 1 (the sum of the digits of my birth date) and for some reason, also 7 and 9.

It was when we started winning competitions every time my partner on the college Dumb Charades team picked a number (to decide the order in which we would take the stage), that that "5" became my luckiest number!

Now, lucky numbers are one thing but when you start adding up the digits of the time in hours and minutes to ensure you send an email (especially important ones) only when it adds up to 1, 5, 7 or 9, YOU NEED HELP.

Even shrinks would give up on me if they hear my restaurant routine!

For, every time I receive the check, I do the math in my head to make sure the tip (10 to 15% usually), adds up to make the total amount a perfect dollar figure (no cents please). If the dollar number ends in 5 or 0, it's sheer ecstasy...

As I started my walk back to the elevator after I got a new lid from the barista (the original one had fallen in the trash as I removed it to add the raw sugar), I pulled out my phone (only one this time as my right hand held my coffee), opened the Starbucks App and hit "Pay".

One of the reasons I love the Starbucks App experience is how quickly they refresh the data, and it gave me immense joy to note that, the balance, which was now showing $0.00, had been $4.27 (the exact price of a Tall Latte with 2 shots) before I ordered the coffee.

Tell me please, should I be worried?


P.S. I'm posting this at exactly 11.50!

Thank...

I thank my friend and end the call.

All I find to lean on is the wooden pole of an electric post. Tucking my water bottle under my right arm pit, I lean my right hand against it and use my left to stretch the quadriceps on my right leg.

I pull out the water bottle with my left hand and decide to hold it there as I lean again on the post, this time using my right hand to stretch my left quads.

I set the music option in MapMyRun to "All Music". Quickly checking to make sure the mode is set to "Shuffle"before I "X" out (back) to the home screen, I click "Start Workout"...

I don't seem to remember when the phone and water bottle exchanged hands for the phone to go into my left trouser pocket, but I swiftly switch the water bottle from my right back to the left, soon as I sight the first car. I raise my right hand, index finger up...

I run on the road!

Even where there is a paved sidewalk, I prefer the blacktop to the hard concrete and going east on Marne Highway (from Larchmont to Creek) on the first leg of my 3-mile course, there is none, so not only do I run facing the traffic (something I learnt at school), every time a vehicle passes by, I raise my hand to it...

"It's not easy to miss me in my black shorts and bright red shirt", I think to myself (though I should've worn a lighter one given its warm). I immediately see a Red Jeep with black tires and metal frames approach me and pass by (to which I raise my hand again). I smile...

I usually raise my hand only when the shoulder is narrow (or none). If the shoulder is wide enough, (usually when the the driving lanes themselves are wide), I play it by ear.

When I notice a bus as I approach Marne and Masonville, I'm taken by surprise. Not only is this the first time I've seen a bus running this course, it just pulled up at its stop in front of Dunkin Donuts, which means the bus is on the shoulder...

I raise my hand again as she (the driver is a lady) pulls back out on to the street just as I get closer, my water bottle doing the swift switch back and forth between my hands again.

Not that I need a water bottle for a 3 mile run (in fact I prefer to run with my hands free)!

I just picked one up as I walked out of home and like Eric Orton (Christopher McDougall's coach in Born to Run) says, "it's good practice for when you need one"...

I pass Masonville!

It means that I'm now committed to the 3-mile run (unless I choose to to take a left on Fleetwood Ave once I've turned left on Creek).

I raise my hand again, this time to a group of cyclists, riding the shoulder towards me. It's the right thing to do after I notice one of them (gesturing with his right hand) indicating to the rest of the group to shift a little to their left to make way for me...

I'm not fast either (my usual pace is between 12 and 13 minutes a mile), but once I crest the little hill at Mama's Pizzeria, I settle into a comfortable pace to complete my first mile in 12:32.

I turn left on Creek!

Creek is one long hill (like my colleague Ken Anderson likes to say) and as I start the climb, I feel the stiffness in my right leg and lower right back (I should continue the physical therapy). So I decide to conserve my energy as I tread the hill so I can settle back into a rhythm going down...

I see a Red and Black Jeep pass me (from behind this time) and I wonder if it's the same one I saw going the other way on Marne. I continue my climb up the hill, faithfully raising my right hand and index finger to every passing car, and my full outstretched palm to those that choose to veer left and stay close to the median. It helps, especially in those parts, where the shoulder reduces to none.

I turn my head left at Fleetwood Avenue!

I even raise my left hand to the car approaching the turn (from Fleetwood) as I catch a glimpse of the green outfield at Fleetwood Elementary School, but I raise my right again as I step on to the shoulder on Creek (past the Fleetwood crossing), fully committing myself to the 3 miles this time...

I see a dead rat!

I step on to the grass this time (to go around him), given there's hardly a shoulder at that point and that what's approaching fast is a 4x4 truck. I raise my hand anyway...

Mile 2 is slower (Time: 25:20)!

As I straighten my back and look up to step up my pace, I notice the Red and Black Jeep again, but it's the red Volkswagen Jetta that I raise my hand to (as I turn left on Masonville), that has stopped for me before turning right (on Creek)...

I approach the Buis' residence!

All 4 of them run and I wonder if they see me every time I stumble by and what they must think of my languid pace but my attention is quickly diverted to an approaching U-Haul truck, that (don't know why) instinctively makes me take to the grass. I quickly step off it and back on to the shoulder realizing it's their lawn. I raise my hand to the Nissan Altima and Rogue in tow.

I usually cross over to the other side of Masonville, closer to my turn on Larchmont, but I even as I pass the other end of Fleetwood, I turn around to see if there are cars headed my way toward Marne. I trot over to the other side...

I raise my hand again (the left this time) and keep it raised till I approach the turn at Larchmont, to signal to the cars I hear behind me!

I raise my right again to the kind lady, who among a stream of cars turning left on Masonville from Larchmont, chooses to let me pass, back to the shoulder and my safe side (facing the traffic)...

It's the homestretch, but I still feel the stiffness in my right leg so I stick to my slow pace. The shoulder is wider here (and so is the driving lane) but I also stick to raising my hand to every passing car, as Larchmont bends left and quickly right again.

My son ran with me once!

A couple of miles on a Spring afternoon up Elm Street in Concord, MA.

"Why do you keep raising your hand every time a car passes by dad?", he asked me.

"To thank them for not killing me", I said.

We both laughed! And kept running...

As I finish mile 3 at 38:12, I can't help but remember that I wore black pants and a red shirt that day in Concord too! I smile again...

After I hit the button for the Walk Sign at Larchmont and Marne, I raise my hand one last time, to the cars lined up at the light, before beginning my walk back home...