Imagine 10,000 years in the future. Two archaeologists are digging a site, and they find the remains of human bones. They take those remains to the lab, perform tests on them, and try to reconstruct the habits and lifestyle of that human. Say those bones belong to me. They are trying to find out my story, how I lived, what I ate, where I traveled, etc. Once they find all the info they need, they toss it into a museum where they store all other such ancient human remains they find. I was essentially one data point to them in trying to understand how humanity evolved over time. Or I can also call myself a “datum”, the singular form of data, literally one piece of information to solve a bigger puzzle. Honestly, I don’t need 10,000 years to become a datum. I am already a part of several datasets people use these days to study many things. So for that objective learner, I am already a datum. Now let me get to how I got the dumb part of it. I have had an interesting and eventful life so far...
I remember each and every mile I ran this year. Actually, I don’t. I just lied. Most of it was a blur to me, and somehow I reached 1,000 miles. Honestly, 1,000 miles is not even a big deal. It is just as arbitrary as, say, 267.8 miles. So I am not going to make a big fuss about it. But inside that blurry 1,000 miles, there are some important moments I do remember clearly, like specks of bright and dark dots you could clearly see in a blurry mess of light. Like, for example, I remember helping a very good friend of mine run 25 km for her 25th birthday, and especially the moment when we both ran up a steep hill up the dam to get a broad view of the lake and its horizon. I remember running on deserted roads in India where a three-legged dog started chasing me and I had to sprint, so my dad accompanied me on my next runs on his scooter to shoo those dogs away from me. I remember feeling miserable and alone on my birthday, so I attempted a mile PR because I needed a “win,” and I remember ho...