After five podium finishes in the 72 km-Khardung La Challenge (including a hat-trick) and two podium finishes in the 122 km-Silk Route Ultra, Shabbir Hussain wishes he had more opportunities in the ultramarathon

An ultramarathon at altitude, is a bit like a mountaineering expedition.

As the race approaches, each participant withdraws into a cocoon, unique to one’s wiring. By September 6, 2023, the day of departure from Leh to Kyagar in Nubra Valley, it was clear that an element of imminent rendezvous with reality was beginning to wash over those set to attempt the 122-kilometer-long Silk Route Ultra (SRU). In Kyagar, some rested in their hotel rooms and stayed unseen. Some walked around, conversed and chatted, ostensibly to ease the gravity of the countdown. Among the less visible was Shabbir Hussain. He must be resting. Tomorrow is his, isn’t it? – although not verbatim, that was the tenor in response from his colleagues in the military and paramilitary; at least three of them – Stanzen Phuntsog, Tsewang Kundan (from Ladakh Scouts) and Phunchok Tashi (from the Indo-Tibetan Border Police [ITBP]) – stayed in circulation, playing the occasional game of table tennis to keep themselves occupied and distracted. The day before an important race and the hours leading to it, can be testing. Staying relaxed is easier said than done. Shabbir appeared only on and off. Would the ones to watch out for tomorrow be the ones seen the least today? – I wondered.

Several hours earlier, at the NDS Stadium in Leh, a small fleet of buses had manifested to transport the runners. I had chosen my bus for Kyagar at random and discovered a self-effacing runner conscious of his importance and yet wishing to be away from the glare it fetched, take his place in the seat in front. His credentials in running were clear from his physical appearance. Here comes the winner. Take us also up the pass along with you, Shabbir – that, yet again not verbatim, was however the substance of the greeting he received from the other runners in the bus. From different parts of India, some of them attempting the race again after being unable to complete in 2022, they all knew Shabbir as the man to watch out for. With Kundan, Stanzen and Tashi too in the same bus, our vehicle felt special. Turbo-charged?

Shabbir Hussain’s significance to the two ultramarathons – Khardung La Challenge (KC / 72 km) and SRU – that are part of the family of races constituting the Ladakh Marathon, may be understood from the event’s archived results. Both these races come up and over the 17,618 feet-high Khardung La, among the world’s highest motorable passes. It is an altitude with less oxygen; running becomes quite difficult. Additionally, the SRU has a start that is 50 kilometers farther away from the start line of KC. In other words, a SRU participant is more than a marathon old in terrain gaining elevation towards Khardung La by the time he reaches the village of Khardung, start point of KC. The 72 kilometer-KC made its debut in 2012. Shabbir started running KC in 2014. As per results available on Wikipedia (at the time of writing, the KC results of 2012, 2013 and 2014 didn’t feature on the Ladakh Marathon website), he finished first in six hours and 35 minutes. In 2015, Shabbir finished fourth with timing of seven hours, 16 minutes and 13 seconds. The winner in 2015 was Tsewang Tokdan (6:33:41). By 2016, Shabbir was back on the podium at KC, he placed second (6:53:35.04); the results indicate a photo-finish with Tokdan (6:53:35.04). The next year was clearly Shabbir’s; he finished first (6:23:50.26) in KC. He stayed first (6:50:38) at KC, in 2018. In 2019, he made it a hat-trick of triumphs, securing the top position with timing of 6:53:34. In 2022, he shifted to competing in SRU. He finished second (14:57:57) in the race. 

Shabbir was born and raised in Darket, a village roughly 20 kilometers away from Kargil towards the Leh side. Kargil is about 2700 feet lower in elevation compared to Leh (11,500 feet); it has an altitude of around 8780 feet (source: Wikipedia). He has three brothers and two sisters. Shabbir’s father worked as a laborer. The boy studied till tenth standard. As is widespread practice in Ladakh, he later joined the Ladakh Scouts regiment of the Indian Army. According to Shabbir, during his days in school, there wasn’t any indulgence in sports worth mentioning. However, soon after his acceptance into the Scouts, his ability to run was recognized. That was how he started landing up at the races of the Ladakh Marathon.

The event commenced in Leh, in 2012. That year, the men’s marathon (42 km) was won by Tsering Gyatso (3:36:18). In 2013, archived results show the men’s marathon sporting a new winner – Shabbir Hussain (3:25:33). “ I just ran the marathon and ended up first,’’ he said. In 2014, he shifted from the marathon to KC. Outside of Ladakh, Shabbir’s participation at races has been very limited and he has enjoyed no podium position. He travelled a couple of times with the team of Ladakhi runners Rimo Expeditions sent to the marathons of the plains. Away from the Ladakh Marathon, he also participated once in the 111 kilometer-race of La Ultra The High (also held in Ladakh) and secured a third place. “ When we train, we don’t think of podium position. We think of improving our timing. If you lost a position but gained in timing – it is fine. Similarly, a good position without good timing does not enthrall,’’ he said.

At Kyagar, Shabbir explained why he progressively drifted away from the marathon and stuck to KC and SRU. “ My forte is stamina. I find speed tough to generate,’’ he said. That was a day before the 2023 SRU set off late evening September 7 and Shabbir, running in the second batch of runners (the Ladakhi elites started one and a half hours after the rest of the field), showed that even in the ultramarathon, his pace – and that of the other runners from Ladakh Scouts – can be hard to match. They headed off into the night at a steady pace. Villagers who had lined up at road junctions to cheer the first batch, stayed back to encourage the local heroes. Shabbir felt that Ladakhi athletes like Jigmet Dolma and Nawang Tsering, who have embraced the marathon, have actually taken the tougher challenge of chasing speed. In comparison, he chose the path of less resistance – pursuing stamina. And yet that doesn’t totally sum up Shabbir for he digs a good challenge. In both the shift from the marathon to KC and the subsequent shift from KC to SRU, the main motivation he conceded, was “ challenge.’’  It’s probably why after winning the 2023 SRU, it isn’t a return to the same race that is playing on his mind. He wonders whether he should try the shorter KC next time, for in 2023, the KC winner, Rigzin Gyurmeth (6:31:41) of the army’s special forces, had come close to Shabbir’s timing from 2017 – 6:23:50.26. “ I would like to keep the course record,’’ Shabbir, 29, said smiling. He will take a decision on KC or SRU for 2024, closer to the event.

Morning of September 8. Fifteen hours, 27 minutes and 53 seconds after he set off from Kyagar, Shabbir crossed the finish line of SRU in Leh to win the 2023 edition of the race. Easily among the most iconic runners emerging from Ladakh Marathon, Shabbir would like to compete in ultramarathons outside Ladakh. Although news of races elsewhere now reaches Ladakh’s runners, Shabbir has to date not participated in an ultramarathon outside the union territory. “ I would like to attempt 100 km-races and 24-hour stadium runs,’’ he said. Top notch competitions in these disciplines, held under the auspices of the International Association of Ultrarunners (IAU), now happen in India. There are Indian teams participating. Many civilian runners also regularly take part in high profile road and trail-based ultramarathons overseas. A serving soldier, Shabbir’s future in the sport depends much on seniors empowered to take decisions. Hope they are listening.

(The author, Shyam G Menon, is a freelance journalist based in Mumbai.)

The data in the phone-camera gives the time of the photograph as 8.42AM.

That was when on September 10, a wiry runner blew past the finish line of the 2023 Ladakh Marathon and won the race. A few steps past the finish, he lay down exhausted. Helped up by volunteers, he then picked his way to Leh’s NDS Stadium nearby, where the awards presentation was due.

A couple of days later, when this writer met him at a café in Leh, he still seemed a light, breezy presence on the planet. Soft spoken, mostly answering to the point and if a wind blew – likely to float off. Meet Nawang Tsering or as at 8.42AM on September 10 – two hours, 42 minutes and two seconds. And for this spectator from Mumbai, such timing at 11,500 feet elevation, where many of us find it difficult to jog!

Still when Nawang won the 2023 Ladakh Marathon, it wasn’t his best timing so far. He was marginally short of his own course record in Leh; 2:41:42, set in 2022. His personal best was 2:39:39, set at the 2022 New Delhi Marathon. At that time, it (2:39:39) appeared the best timing yet by a Ladakhi marathon runner (source: Administration of Union Territory of Ladakh, press statement dated March 29, 2022). However, it’s a long way off from the timings reported by top Indian marathon runners (for comparison: Shivnath Singh’s longstanding national record is 2:12:00 and Gopi T of the Indian Army who has since been the closest to that mark, clocked a personal best of 2:13:39 at the 2019 Seoul Marathon [source: World Athletics]). On the bright side, Nawang is 24 years old and only getting started. Besides, just as runners from the plains may be stretched doing a sub-three hour-marathon at altitude in Ladakh’s dry weather, a Ladakhi runner like Nawang, takes time to adjust to the heat and humidity of lower altitudes. All of which points to engaging discoveries and twists and turns ahead, in India’s marathon story.

Nawang hails from Lingshet, a village in the Sham region of Ladakh. It is a long way from Leh, to the south west. Although technically a part of Leh district, enquiries in Leh revealed that culturally, Lingshet used to be closer to Zanskar. For long, Lingshet was a remote place. There wasn’t a road leading right up to the village. Nawang’s father worked as a labourer. His mother died when he was in the third standard. He has two brothers and a sister. Nawang studied at Leh’s Lamdon Model Senior Secondary School. Even after he competed his twelfth standard some years ago, the school continues to be second home. He stays in the school hostel.

In his early childhood, Nawang recalled, it took three days to reach home from Leh. And in winter, passage to Lingshet entailed trekking on the frozen Zanskar River. Known as the Chadar Trek, it was until recently a much-coveted objective in adventure tourism with people paying a lot of money to experience walking on the frozen river in sub-zero temperatures. Global warming and consequent unreliability around the strength of the ice cover and problems associated with too many people arriving for the bragging rights of having walked the frozen river, have since taken the sheen off the trek. For Nawang though, the Chadar Trek was a winter reality. It was the only way he could go home during vacations (in Ladakh, the winter school break is longer than the summer one). As he grew up, the visits home appear to have dwindled. During the ninth and tenth standards, tuitions kept him in Leh. In the following years, it was running. Lingshet is now connected by road. But the boy, since become a man and devoted to a life in running, rarely goes home. Leh and Lamdon have become his address.

For much of his years in school, Nawang wasn’t into running. The bug bit in the eleventh standard. His inspiration was his friends – Tsering Stobgais and Jigmet Norbu – who had been to Mumbai (home of India’s biggest city marathon) and on their return begun to train. There was even a running club operated by his friends; they called it Cosmos. According to Stobgais, Cosmos was one among clubs of that sort, formed by the inmates of the school hostel to have informal tournaments. “ Back then, Leh did not have many sports tournaments. We had to devise our own,” Stobgais said, adding efforts are now afoot by former Cosmos members to recast the club into a body that spans both competitions at school and outside. At the time Nawang first saw his friends train, he didn’t have running shoes. His friends had visited Mumbai as part of the running team sponsored by Rimo Expeditions. The company provided team members new pairs of shoes. When his friends’ shoes became old, Nawang got to borrow a pair for his training runs. Then in 2014 or so, when the year’s edition of the Ladakh Marathon was due, Nawang bought his friend’s old running shoes – a pair of Kalenji from Decathlon. At the event in Leh, he participated in the half marathon and finished eighth. From 2015 onwards, he started getting podium finishes at the Ladakh Marathon; he opened his account with a second position in the half marathon in the open category. Archived results show his 2015 timing as 1:23:26.

That year he made his first trip to Mumbai as part of the team dispatched annually by Rimo Expeditions to participate in the Mumbai Marathon. Thereby, he got his first pair of new running shoes – a pair of Nike. In Mumbai, he trained under coach Savio D’Souza (Savio also visited Leh periodically to oversee his wards’ training). Contacted in mid-September 2023, after Nawang’s latest victory in Leh, the coach remembered the youngster he met in 2015 as a hardworking, good runner who was short on big race experience. Nawang’s first half marathon in Mumbai didn’t yield any podium finish. He found the heat and humidity challenging. But it was the beginning of a pattern in life – start the running season with the Ladakh Marathon in September and spend the winter months running the marathons of the plains with Rimo. In 2016, he successfully defended his second place in the half marathon in Leh and while he travelled with Rimo to Mumbai, Goa and Delhi and improved his timing, he could secure no podium finish anywhere outside of Ladakh.

Next year – 2017 – he became the winner (first place) of the half marathon in Leh with timing of 1:21:23 and followed that up with a second place in his age category at the Tata Steel 25K in Kolkata, his first podium finish outside Ladakh. However, his participation in the 2017 Airtel Delhi Half Marathon and the 2018 Mumbai Marathon yielded no podium finish, Nawang said. It was a spell of no encouraging results. Through the 2019 Tata Mumbai Marathon and the New Delhi Marathon, he continued to run the half marathon to no memorable finishes outside Ladakh. Barring exceptions, his timing in the half marathon was stuck in the range of 1:20 to 1:21. There were some near podium finishes but no real podium. His performance at home too, seemed unsteady. At the 2018 Ladakh Marathon, he completed the half marathon in 1:18:48 to secure first place. But in 2019, it was 1:22:34 and a third place on the podium. Then COVID-19 struck. The world slipped into pandemic and lockdown. Races were cancelled globally.

The intervening period till the resumption of races, was a period of reflection. Nawang had to figure out how to break free from entrapment in a plateauing half marathon performance and dearth of podium finishes. “ I was stuck in the 1:20 – 1:21 range,” Nawang said, portraying the frustration. It was from the consequent churn that the switch to the full marathon happened. Savio explained the logic and process. According to him, two angles counted. First, there were limitations in Ladakh to improving athletes’ speed because the required number of short distance races were not yet a major part of the region’s running ecosystem. Second, what runners like Nawang required was not merely speed but “ speed-endurance.’’ Or simply put, sustaining what speed they could whip up over a longer distance, which in turn helped them when running the the shorter distance races too. A kind of benign, synergic loop. “ For me, it was logical that Nawang should increase the distance of his long runs,’’ Savio said of the drift to full marathon. In his estimation (the whole thing viewed as developing speed-endurance), Nawang learning to be good at the marathon would have beneficial impact on his performance in the half marathon as well.

In Leh, Nawang did some of his training runs for the full marathon with Ladakh’s leading woman marathon runner, Jigmet Dolma (another of Savio’s Ladakhi students), and also with her fellow marathon runners, Tsetan Dolkar and Disket Dolma (they were all part of Rimo’s team). “ He did some of the easier runs with us. Beyond a point, our respective pace is different,’’ Jigmet said. In training, Nawang’s long runs typically touched 35 to 38 kilometres. “ In 2021, there was a marathon in Delhi. That is where I competed in the full marathon for the first time. I had timing of two hours, 42 minutes,’’ he said (the reference here is most likely to the 2021 New Delhi Marathon, where Nawang timed 2:42:49 to place sixth among men in the open category). The next event he recalled, was the 2022 New Delhi Marathon, where he got his personal best of 2:39:39. In September that year came his course record at the Ladakh Marathon.

Then the impact of the switch to full marathon, on the half, also manifested. At the 2022 Vedanta Half Marathon in Delhi, Nawang narrowly missed a podium position in his age category (in the half marathon) but gained a personal best of 1:14:45. In December 2022, he ran the Tata Steel 25K in Kolkata and placed third in the 18-24 years age group with timing of 1:31:28. Roughly a month later, at the 2023 Tata Mumbai Marathon, he placed fourth in the men’s 18-24 years age category of the full marathon with timing of two hours, 39 minutes, 49 seconds. What effect, better circumstances of training and being with runners of matching and superior ability can have on Nawang, is anyone’s guess.  

Going ahead, Nawang wishes to alternate between the full and half marathon. He plans to improve his timing. Many Ladakhi runners concede that while they have faith in their endurance, they find themselves challenged for speed in the races of India’s plains. Nawang trains as his coach, Savio, tells him to. He does his training runs, does free hand exercises and has generally avoided gyms. “ I have only one weight in my hostel room. Four kilos, that’s all,’’ Nawang said laughing. The bulk of his training is a composite of warm-up, running and stretching. Asked what he thought were essential to get closer to the timings reported at marathons elsewhere, he thought for a while and said: an improved diet, coach close by and perhaps access to some strength training. But what sets Nawang apart from the regular crop of Ladakhi runners is how he has imagined his life’s work.

Nawang currently holds a temporary job with the Ladakh Police. He also helps out at Rimo. Most male runners in Ladakh, once they become proficient in the sport, join the Ladakh Scouts or get picked up by this regiment of the Indian Army (the Scouts are known to treat their podium finishes at races in Ladakh as a regimental honour). According to Nawang, he was approached. But he held back for two important reasons. First, he is clear that whatever job he does should provide him room to train and grow further in running. It cannot be job above running; it should be a job that enables his future in running. To that extent, within the gamut of government jobs (including jobs in the military and paramilitary), he prefers establishments with a clear-cut sports quota and equally clear provisions for sportsperson to train. Second, he would like to contribute to running’s growth in Ladakh. “ I want to popularize running amongst my people,’’ he said. Outside the café, there was a quiet calm descended on Leh’s main market, also its much loved meeting spot; with the annual marathon over, the last flush of tourists to town had departed. Conversation completed, Nawang left for Lamdon.

“ Nawang Tsering is a star of Lamdon School. In fact, he is a Ladakh-star. He belongs to a very humble family. At an early stage itself, we saw his potential in long distance running. He has stayed on in the school hostel even after passing out. For Lamdon’s boarding school students, he is like an elder brother. He coaches and mentors students,” Dr Stanzin Dawa, principal, Lamdon Model Senior Secondary School, said when contacted. According to him, the Leh-based institution has its own imprint on the annual marathon with many who finish in the top ranks of the Ladakh Marathon’s various races, belonging to the school or its alumni.

The weekend after this writer met Nawang, it was the Sunday of the 6th Kargil International Marathon 2023. Nawang was due to run there. He did and secured the first place, covering the 42 kilometre-distance in a new personal best of 2:38:47 on September 17, 2023. That 2:39:39 from 2022, had become history. The union territory’s administration may need to put out a new press statement.

(The author, Shyam G Menon, is a freelance journalist based in Mumbai.)           

Going into the annual Ladakh Marathon, Chewang Motup’s big worry had been the impact high altitude may have on those who arrived for the event’s races.

He kept reminding participants of the need to respect acclimatization protocols. As race director, he experiences the tension that nearly 6000 people congregating for the four day-event and the potential of non-Ladakhis in the fray acquiring altitude related illness, bring. The event’s races happen across altitudes spanning Leh’s 11,500 feet to the 17,618 feet of Khardung La, among the world’s highest motorable passes. As altitude rises, oxygen level in the atmosphere reduces making athletic performance tougher. In this context, the problems organizers face (as mentioned in an earlier article on this blog) are several. There are participants who don’t disclose pre-existing medical conditions, which could worsen at altitude. To get used to functioning at altitude, some days dedicated to the purpose, including rest therein, is essential. But there are those who think that protocols for acclimatization are unimportant and treat it lightly. As this writer noticed, runners arrive late and insist on getting bibs. Friends reached early try collecting bibs for those unable to reach Leh on time. It provokes arguments, for collection of bibs in person and on time are the primary means by which organizers stay convinced (to the extent possible) that protocols are being followed.

Making matters worse, there is no hesitation on the part of some runners in throwing their weight around. Position, status, importance of self – all these come into play even as organizers emphasize that the acclimatization protocols are in place to protect participants. Holding one’s ground against such negotiators is tough. Thanks to the safety measures the organizers must take and the lengthier duration of stay demanded (due to acclimatization protocols), the Ladakh Marathon is an expensive affair. Those who paid money and registered, try to ensure money’s worth. It reminds of an Everest expedition (albeit on a much smaller scale), where the hunger for achievement risks trumping reality. It will be so unless there is awareness and ownership among runners of what they are getting into. In other words, a race at high altitude is very dissimilar to a race in the plains.

Unlike events at low altitude, where laxity may be accommodated without any grave consequences to one’s health, at high altitude, poor acclimatization and subsequent ailments can result in death if medical intervention is not quick. There is thus a greater degree of responsibility expected on the part of participants, as regards events at high altitude. On the last day of the marathon expo (it is where racers collect their bibs), Motup was heard telling a participant pleading for relaxation of rules around bib collection, “ I am sorry, we are now very close to the race. I can’t give the bib to someone else and without seeing you in person. Don’t tell me how supremely fit you are or what your past record at races is. I have people working for me who climbed Everest multiple times. And yet, each of them has no option but to follow protocols when freshly coming to high altitude.’’ Besides being race director of Ladakh Marathon, Motup also owns Rimo Expeditions, one of the biggest adventure travel companies in India.

To complicate things, health problems experienced at high altitude are still a subject of study in medicine. Not only does each person seem to take differently to altitude but the same person needn’t have the same response to altitude, always. Even if protocols are met, things may go wrong depending on variables ranging from conditions on race day to the physical and mental state of a participant at that instance. While this can easily strengthen the lobby trivializing acclimatization protocols, fact is – all the precautions taken and safety measures met, matter in the analysis of a mishap. Documented evidence is vital. This is among reasons why race organizers insist on protocols being followed. This is why they feel beleaguered when runners argue on critical topics like protocols around acclimatization. “ My conclusion is that runners are taking altitude lightly,’’ Motup said.

Two days after the 2023 edition of the Ladakh Marathon had concluded, this writer met Motup for a post-race chat. The stress he had accumulated dealing with the event and its participants, was still only working its way off. As with previous editions (the event is now a decade old), the 2023 race witnessed no fatal incident on its course. In the run-up to the event, a lady who had come to run the half marathon collapsed at dinner and died, in Leh (11,500 feet elevation). In another incident, a runner who completed the half marathon in Leh, passed away after reaching home in Mumbai. Whether high altitude had any role to play in these unfortunate demises, we may never know. Ahead of the Silk Route Ultra-runners setting off for Kyagar (start line of the race), there was a session by a high-altitude medicine specialist, on the challenges of performing in such rarefied atmosphere. Including what distress calls from the body to stay alert for and when to call it quits. The session concluded with a moment of silence to pay respects to one of the departed. On race day, the two ultramarathons within the Ladakh Marathon fold (Silk Route Ultra and Khardung La Challenge, both of which touch heights exceeding 17,500 feet), witnessed a few worrisome incidents. Luckily, none were fatal. Ambulances were nearby and people could be evacuated in time. Besides ambulances on the ready, the Ladakh Marathon also keeps a helicopter on stand by for speedy medical intervention.

With roots in mountaineering, Motup looks at high altitude and performance at high altitude through eyes forged in that sport. He has been involved with numerous climbing expeditions (some of them research expeditions as well) and is currently the president of the prestigious Himalayan Club. Rimo Expeditions have been guides and providers of support for many high-altitude mountaineering expeditions, all along the Indian and Nepal Himalaya and that part of the Karakoram ranges which fall in India. Motup speaks from experience. For the 2024 edition of the Ladakh Marathon, he said that he would like to see runners showing greater respect for acclimatization protocols. There will be reduced room for any special considerations. Bibs may have to be collected in person, on time. On the race front, a degree of self-support – mainly the use of hydration packs – may be made compulsory in the two ultramarathons. Since the hosts must set an example themselves, Ladakhi ultrarunners, who have so far run the ultramarathons like an extended marathon, counting on aid stations for water and nutrition, may be told to start getting acquainted with hydration packs. The organizers may look to acquire chip-based tracking devices that allow them to monitor runners’ progress and act quickly if anyone is suspected to be in trouble. And in 2024, the tiered start of the Silk Route Ultra seen so far (in 2023, the elites commenced their run one and a half hours after the rest of the field had started) may be replaced by a single, consolidated start.

Motup also explained why he doesn’t support the oft heard demand for relaxed stage cut-off in the Silk Route Ultra. At 122 km, plenty of uphill, the Khardung La pass to cross and stage cut-offs that continue to challenge despite being eased a bit in 2023, the Silk Route Ultra is a pretty difficult undertaking for any runner. As Motup pointed out, a longer stage cut off simply keeps a participant at high altitude for a longer period of time. Being at high altitude and straining there anyway damages the human body. At the same time, high altitude with its accompaniment of reduced oxygen level, is not apt ambiance for the body to heal. So, longer exposure to high altitude is simply an invitation to worsen matters. This is why it’s so much better to prepare well for the race at more hospitable altitudes, follow acclimatization protocols in Ladakh, take a reasonable shot at performing in the high-altitude race and not stay around for too long in the risky heights of the course. At this point, as a matter of fairness, it should be mentioned that race arrangements must also stay sensitive to the need for runners avoiding long stays in truly high portions of the course. In 2023, for instance, some runners told this blog of a lack of order and retrievability in how drop bags were stored at one of the really high aid stations. It caused a delay in locating bags. They wanted such details improved.

Motup said that in his estimation, the presence of high altitude as its distinguishing feature, rendered the Ladakh Marathon an event with limited comparable brethren to consider for benchmark, when it came to deciding eligibility for participation. Elevation may be piled on by doing gradients at lower altitude but Ladakh’s high altitude (and its dry weather) or the altitude of Khardung La cannot be easily replicated. Finding exactly similar races to qualify for the races at Ladakh Marathon, is difficult. He said that over time, he may look to eligibility being decided by races within the Ladakh Marathon fold. Thus, performance at the Ladakh Marathon (42 km) may be used to decide eligibility for the Khardung La Challenge (72 km), which in turn may be treated as eligibility for the Silk Route Ultra (122 km). Motup found this reliable and safe to decide eligibility as these races are happening in the same overall high-altitude ecosystem and near similar sub-ecosystems.  “ I think someone doing the Khardung La Challenge in under 11 hours could be considered for the Silk Route Ultra. Someone completing KC in under 10 hours, even more so ‘’ he said. However, asked about trail races, Motup said that while he would love to see Ladakhi runners take on trail based-events elsewhere, hosting a trail race in Ladakh would be quite challenging as off-road medical and search and rescue capabilities in Ladakh are not as evolved as they are, overseas. For now, sticking to the road made sense.       

The evening of September 13, a day after the post-race chat with Motup, this writer beheld a large yard (owned by Rimo) in Shey village, where the Ladakh Marathon had come to hibernate till 2024. Hundreds of road dividers fabricated from metal arranged in rows, stacks of traffic cones, the metal framework of tables and arches and plenty of signages bore testimony to the groundwork the organizers had put in for over ten years. All, the physical infrastructure of a marathon; they basked in Ladakh’s evening sunshine, counting the days to another edition of India’s premier running festival at high altitude.         

(The author, Shyam G Menon, is a freelance journalist based in Mumbai.)

On the first day of the 2023 Ladakh Marathon expo, as one walked down the road leading to the NDS Stadium, a series of sculptures by the side of the road leading to Choglamsar, fascinated.

Made of metal parts, the idiom at work seemed to communicate a mix of form, anatomy and innards, and at least in the case of a sculpture or two, felt quite kinetic; like energy unleashed. Ladakh’s barren cold desert landscape, against which one perceived the art forms, added to the bare bones, skeletal broodiness of scrap metal. Neither an artist in the real sense of the word nor a trained art critic, I nevertheless felt sufficiently impressed to try finding out who created these works of art. As chance would have it, freelance journalist’s habit of seeking out affordable eateries landed him at a café opposite the sculpture of two black-necked cranes and a restaurant named after the birds, near Leh’s post office. The materials used to make the birds appeared similar to what I had seen near the stadium. Could there be a connection? A case of same or similar hands at work perhaps? The best place to ask seemed the Black-Necked Crane Restaurant. It’s manager, Tundup promised to help. He got back with the name and phone number of Chemat Dorjey. By then, I had also found an old interview with Chemat published by Reach Ladakh. The next day, we met.

Hailing from Sakti village and talented at painting, Chemat decided to study art. He did his Bachelor of Fine Arts (BFA) from Jammu and later, his MFA from Varanasi. Initially given to painting, he specialized in sculpture after being inspired by the work of one of his teachers. At Leh’s Onpo House, a heritage building (it was once the seat of royal astrologers) now restored and used as an art gallery and venue for discussions on art, Chemat explained the local art scene. Ladakh may be small. But its imagination is colourful. Thanks to its traditional art forms like thangka, Ladakhi society has curiosity and appreciation for art. That nature (empathy for creative work) is the foundation on which, later styles of art have got layered. Although contemporary art struggles to find acceptance, people turn up to see exhibitions of such work all the same. Indeed, when asked if choosing art for a career had been a problem (an unpopular decision) in Ladakh, Chemat said that hadn’t been the case. At the same time, studying art outside had taught him to look differently – in more perspectives than just the traditional – at subjects that engaged his interest. 

There is a community of around 20-30 artists scattered in and around Leh, Chemat said. Most of them have no other avenue of livelihood. They survive on original work and commissioned pieces. The rise of local businesses, particularly hotels, has helped in securing commissions. In some cases, art projects have come from monasteries. However, in the context of steadying their ship destined to sail the choppy waters of creativity, the artistic community wishes for more support from government. Besides art projects the government could give, a simple change that could help stabilize the fluctuating economic fortunes most artists are subjected to, would be to have positions for artists in schools, colleges and other such institutions. It would provide employment. That is awaited, Chemat said.

In the meantime, private patrons in Ladakh commissioned art work or as happened in the case of those black-necked cranes near the post office, the sculptor pitched an idea to government and the government decided to back it. Migratory and vulnerable, black-necked cranes have visited Ladakh for long. It’s the union territory’s ` state bird’ (previously it used to be the state bird of the erstwhile Jammu & Kashmir state). They would be found in the Changthang region of Ladakh. It is believed that a pair of black-necked cranes bond for life. Over the years, the number of visiting pairs have reduced and people from Hanle (which falls in the area where the birds arrive) told Chemat that the growing noise of vehicles, including motorcycles, had contributed to the problem. That was how the sculptor conceived the idea of a pair of black-necked cranes made from scrap metal (vehicle parts). The main inspiration for the art work is drawn from the courtship dance / display of the birds. According to Chemat the sculpture was unveiled in 2019. In a related note, Chemat observed: “ In a way this sculpture is an embodiment of the artist’s vision towards awareness of the threats that rare and migratory birds like the black-necked crane face in their natural habitat among others. Beyond the inspiration of beauty and aesthetics, this sculpture is also a criticism of the change in the ecology of the region.’’

While the sculpture of two birds made of scrap metal sourced from vehicle parts bridged the two main elements of the work (vulnerable birds and the problem of traffic), Chemut provided the sculpture more local roots by bringing in the spindle as the sculpture’s base. Central to local textiles and dresses like the Ladakhi koncha which keep people warm, the spindle, as an emblem of how humans survive in Ladakh, is a recurrent motif in Chemat’s work. It is the heart of one of Chemat’s installations too, now on view at Onpo House.

In April 2023, Ladakh hosted the Youth-20 (Y-20) summit under the auspices of G-20, of which India had become president. In the run up to the Y-20 meeting, there was a flurry of beautification projects in Leh. According to Chemat, about a month before the Y-20 meeting he was sounded out by the local administration about a proposed art project. That was the genesis of the sculptures that came up just outside the NDS Stadium, which in September 2023 served as venue for the Ladakh Marathon expo. Realizing that the time provided was very limited, he recommended a symposium attended by invited artists – five from Ladakh and ten from elsewhere in India. Based yet again on scrap art, the symposium was called: 1st Ladakh National Scrap Art Symposium. It was anchored by the union territory’s administration and its housing and urban development department. The local administration leased space near Shanti Stupa in Leh for the artists to fashion scrap metal into creative art forms. The finished sculptures were set up adjacent to the NDS Stadium. Months later freelance journalist headed to a marathon expo would be sufficiently intrigued by the sculptures to find out who made it. But therein lay another tale.

While the sculptures were installed and the Y-20 meeting was held, a proper explanation of the works of art along with credit to its creators, was still pending as of early September 2023. Standing before the sculptures, one couldn’t know the names of the artists involved because their names hadn’t been displayed. The underlying theme (what the sculptures signified) also stayed silent pending articulation and display. “ The formal unveiling is yet to happen,’’ Chemat said. He sent me a digital presentation on the earlier mentioned symposium, which contained the names of the participating artists. They were, besides Chemat; Parmar R. Kumar, Lodoe Gyaltsen, Madhab Das, Saurab Singh, Vinit Kumar, Vivek Das, Arun Bhandari, Dheeraj Kumar, Anupam Patel, Virender Singh, Tsering Gurmet, Stanzin Tsepel, Stanzin Samphel and Urgain Zawa. They made that row of intriguing metal sculptures. Unfortunately, even as anyone going to the NDS Stadium would have noticed the art work, it didn’t grace the actual course of the Ladakh Marathon. The course was towards Choglamsar while the sculptures were towards the side of Leh town.

Meanwhile, artists in Ladakh have become more versatile. Ladakh has distinct seasons with palpable impact on landscape and human existence and that has begun influencing artistic expression. Of late in winter, Ladakhi artists have worked with ice and snow. Within this approach, artists in Leh use ice, of which they have plenty in winter. In Kargil, the play is with snow; there is strong snowfall that side. Besides this, Ladakhi artists have also begun using the vast space and landscape of Ladakh as inspiration for outdoor installations.

(The author, Shyam G Menon, is a freelance journalist based in Mumbai.)