MOZART IN AUSTRIA

Shikha Pahwa (photo: courtesy Shikha)

The UTMB Mozart 100 was not on my radar.

It happened by chance.

My plan was to go to Italy and I was looking for a race in or around Italy on very specific dates. The only one I found was Mozart 100 in Salzburg, Austria.

Seen on the race website it looked like an extremely scenic run (this was where The Sound of Music was shot after all). City roads, mountains, river, vast green fields, it had it all; enough to tempt me. Plus, the date was perfect. Looking at the distance options, as usual, I scrolled down to the longest one; 105k it said. Doable I thought. The cut-off was 22 hours which should have made me curious as it seemed liberal compared to some other races but I took it at face value. I knew this was a race with some crazy elevation but what I ignored or rather didn’t understand was the extent of trail and the grade of trail involved. I signed up. It appeared a done deal.

I started training around three months before the race with focus more on mileage. Since Delhi is flat, training for elevation is a challenge. My trainer Krishan Tiwari trained me like he had for the Ladakh runs of the past. There was a lot of resistance training to give the climbing feel, some walking-running with a weighted jacket, in addition to strength training and consecutive long runs. All this in the Delhi summer was completely draining and combined with my regular work, it exhausted me 100 percent. But that’s how ultrarunning (and training) is – never-ending runs irrespective of time, weather and terrain.

Fast forward to race day. I reached the start point at 4:30AM (5AM start). With 700 participants arrived, the place looked like a festival! None of my earlier ultra runs had witnessed such a big crowd and they all looked like experienced trail runners. I was very intimidated and what got me really worried was the one common thing all of them had – trekking poles (the ones used for trail running are light and collapse to really small dimension for ease of carrying).

Photo: courtesy Shikha Pahwa

That was when it hit me that I may have got myself into something I wasn’t ready for. Forget getting poles, I had never used them! I was a 100 per cent road runner, so poles had never been needed. The one trail run I did attempt had featured a technical trail and it had ended up with me injured and a DNF to my credit. I therefore had no fond memories of trail. But now, I was at the start line of my first international race and there was no turning back. The race began and the first few kilometres were flat. It seemed to go well until I saw an arrow indicating a turn into the bushes. And there it began – not flat, not straight…just pure rocky trail.

It was a narrow path and the whole lot of us going up on it. So, we had to form a queue. Wherever there was the tiniest space on the sides, some runners would overtake. Gradually the fast runners disappeared from view. Still, more and more people kept overtaking. Their training showed in the way they moved; smooth steps, almost without much thought. Me on the other hand watched every step, holding on to branches to pull myself up where the step was too high. Around four or five kilometres into the trail I realised that I couldn’t keep using my hands for support. I needed to find my version of trekking poles. I picked a stick fallen on the ground. It took me a few attempts to find the right one; right height, weight and grip. It wasn’t perfect but helped. My free hand was still used for extra support of course. 

Given 5000 meters elevation for the race, the climbs were intense. This was just the first one, there were eight or nine more. In my mind I assumed there were five in all. I don’t know how I got that but it threw me off when they just kept coming.

Climbing up was hard and although there were faster runners, there were many around me proceeding at a pace similar to mine. So, I wasn’t all that slow. Where I did really feel disadvantaged was in the downhill sections. Usually, downhill is where I make up for lost time (and that’s because I had done mostly road runs). But here it was much slower than the climbs. It was also terrifying as one wrong step could send me rolling down the rocks or into the rocks or worse. The other runners just ran down as I would on road. It showed how experienced they were. I took my time and went as slowly as I needed to go. Others overtaking me at this stage, didn’t matter at all. I was quite okay coming in last as long as I finished without injury. Besides, somehow, I was managing to catch up with the same people on the next climb. It showed, my training did work after all. 

A slower pace in this race was not a concern, I just needed to be fast enough to reach the various cut-off points along the course within the set deadline. Failure to do so was an immediate disqualification from the race. So it had to be planned in advance and I had asked my everything-ultrarunning guide Dr. Rajat Chauhan (founder and race director of La Ultra The High) for help. Everything-ultrarunning because he had answers to all the questions, I had about long distance running in the past few years, especially when it came to the whole “ mental preparation’’ bit. He was kind enough to go through the route map in detail and advise on how to pace myself to make it to the finish line in time.

Photo: courtesy Shikha Pahwa

Going one step at a time and pushing myself mentally, I kept moving ahead. Because of the terrain my feet kept twisting to the side. Luckily no injuries there. I did trip three times along the way which gave me bruises on both knees and hands but no internal damage. The bigger problem came once it got dark. Finding my way with just the headlamp required a lot more focus but the fatigue and bruises weren’t allowing me to do so. The downhills looked even more dangerous in the dark. I was left alone after everyone ran down. To make it worse, my headlamp started acting up. It suddenly got dim and I had no backup. It looked like it could die at any point, so I quickened my steps and hoped for the best. Once I got down, there were some people around so I could see better. 

The official race distance was 106 kilometres and according to my watch it wasn’t far. Then I spied a road ahead and an aid station; I could feel the finish coming up. Looking for signs of finish, I started to jog. The road turned into the trees again and up we went! Some more up and down and we returned to a road again. The GPS was off because 106 kilometres was already done for me. Now I could see some signs of finish and hear some people in the distance. Finally, I was closing in on the last stretch and some twists and turns in the road. I found a place to put my stick down. Then, I saw my sister cheering for me, then running behind me and I finally saw the finish line. My watch showed 109 kilometres. It wasn’t a distance I hadn’t done before but this terrain made it ten times harder. It was more of a mental race for me, especially since I wasn’t prepared for it. I was way out of my comfort zone, so a rank of 420 out of 700 and being the only Indian participant felt great. 

(The author, Shikha Pahwa, is a Delhi-based entrepreneur and ultrarunner)

RUNNING SPARTATHLON

Jeevendra Singh (photo: courtesy Jeevendra)

I grew up in a village near Agra. My father worked with Indian Railways and he was posted at Tundla. Growing up in a village meant living an outdoorsy life. I was into sports during my schooling years. I did my engineering degree from Lucknow and through campus placement found myself at the Pune office of UBS. From there I moved to Singapore, Poland and finally to UK, in 2015. Initially, I lived in London. I was following an unhealthy lifestyle. My health deteriorated mainly because of the stress that accompanies work at an investment bank. I piled on a lot of weight.

I decided to take charge of my life and took to running. The solitude of running helped me heal and gave me much-needed ` me time.’ My running was largely recreational. I started participating in running events with the aim to raise funds for causes such as cancer research and the fight against domestic violence, among others. I did a few marathons including the Athens Classic Marathon, marathons in Marrakesh, Peru and San Francisco. I even ran a marathon wearing full cricket gear to raise funds. My aim was to run a marathon in every continent but I gave up that idea when I became aware of climate change and realised that flying just to run a marathon, was not the correct thing to do.

I then embarked on trail running, starting with a half marathon in the south of England. I moved to ultra distances in trail running, attempting a few trail races in the mountains of Lake District. I love trail running and since 2018 I have done only trail running. Living in London and running around on roads and pavements takes a toll on you. Don’t get me wrong, London is one of the beautiful cities in the world with lot of green areas. Yet the city running was becoming monotonous for me. So, when I stumbled on to trail running and did my first trail race, which was the Beachy Head half marathon in the beautiful Seven Sisters Cliffs near Eastbourne, I was hooked to it. Purely because being in nature triggered the genetic memory, we all have in us. Being in nature, moving on your foot for hours in these beautiful landscapes gives our body and mind that experience which our ancestors naturally had thousands of years ago. Also, for me being in the country side triggered the happy childhood memories I had with my grandparents and uncles in my village back home in India. Slowly I wanted more and more of this. Moreover, I believe in continuous progression. Therefore, I wanted to see if I can run longer than a marathon in these landscapes. That’s when I decided to do my first ultramarathon, the Grand Tour of Skidaw, which happens in Lake District, UK. It was a 70km-long race in challenging terrain but the views and scenery were breath-taking. I never looked back after that. From there i moved to 50milers (I did three of those) and then to my first 100 miler in 2021.

In 2020, the world came to a halt due to the COVID-19 pandemic. Once the lockdown was lifted, I did a run from Buckingham Palace to Windsor Castle, a distance of over 50 km. In 2021, I did the South Downs Way 100, a 100 miler. There were many elite athletes at the start line and that was quite inspiring. I wanted to do well. I ended up in the top 20, covering the distance in 19:10:39 hours. In August of the same year, my mother passed away. I hit a low and lost my motivation to run. Slowly I resumed running and realised that it was helping me heal. I wanted to take on something challenging. I decided to do Spartathlon. To my mind it was a journey that would help me go inward and deal with my grief. I had the South Downs Way 100 as a qualifying race. The qualifying time required to enrol for Spartathlon was a 100-miler race done in 21 hours. For Spartathlon, I did much of my training on the pavements, roads and parks of London. For exposure to trails, I travelled to Lake District where I ran in the lower mountain ranges. But the days leading to Spartathlon were extremely stressful. My wife’s father was ill and I nearly contemplated missing the race. But my wife asked me to go to Greece while she flew to India to be with her parent. Radhika, my wife, is a lifestyle and nutrition consultant. She helps with my nutrition plan for day to day living and also for races. She is a qualified yoga teacher and mental health coach. Except my running, she coaches me for everything else.

I flew to Greece. The race day started well after Radhika called me to say that her father had improved and was likely to be discharged from the hospital. At the start line of Spartathlon, I was the only Indian runner. It felt good to be around super-fit elite athletes. I did have a few minutes of doubts but quickly brushed them aside. Over its first few miles, the race leaves Athens, traversing through the city’s suburbs and stretch of factories. After 13 miles, we hit the coastline. There are 75 check points along the route. Every check point has a cut-off time. We were expected to hit the 50-mile mark in nine and a half hours. The start of the run was tough as temperatures were quite high and I got dehydrated leading to stomach issues. I reached the 50-mile mark with just 15 minutes to spare and that was not good. I felt stressed and doubts began to creep in. I kept saying the words: stay calm and cool. I was doing this race solo without any crew. I reached the 100-mile mark. I desperately needed a reset. At that point I ran into Graeme Boxall, an accomplished ultra runner and one of the nicest fans of the sport in the UK. He is ever present at track ultras volunteering or crewing for runners. He has given so much of his time and energy to the sport. I had met Graeme at a few track ultras earlier and got to know him. When he met me around the 110 km-point in the Spartathlon race, I was in a pretty bad shape. His encouragement was just what I needed to come out of that bad patch. He was crewing for another runner. Graeme gave me a recovery drink and helped me reset. I changed my clothes and set out.

Jeevendra Singh (photo: courtesy Jeevendra)

As I progressed into the race, my stomach situation improved. Also, the temperature started to lower. Further, the buffer between my arrival time and the cut-off time, started to increase. The night was clear and running through the vineyards and olive farms laden with silhouettes, was like a dream. For nutrition and hydration, I switched to soup and Coke. Then came the uphill mountainous stretch. It was quite tough but at the top I felt a connection with my late mother. The descent was tougher than the ascent. The path downhill was laden with loose rocks and scree. I decided to walk down instead of running it. As I started to descent, I began to feel better. For the next 20 miles my pace was quite good. I crossed many runners along the route. At dawn I was running through vineyards in Tegea. The route was headed to Sparta. It started to get warm. This time, I was careful with my hydration. The last stretch was mostly downhill. At Sparta, people were very passionate about the race. As I kept running, I heard them shout: Bravo. The city was packed with supporters cheering for each and every runner. There were children and youngsters running or cycling with us. I met a woman who had been volunteering for the race for the past 41 years. Just before the finish line, I stopped before the statue of King Leonidis and then, finally hit the finish line. In my mind, the 246 km race was split into three phases. The first phase was Be Calm, the second phase was Curious (it was mostly through the night) and the third phase was Confident and Belief.

The Swedish team was very helpful and friendly with me. They kept a seat for me at dinner, among many other friendly gestures. I am right now in the process of recovering both physically and emotionally. The race was quite demanding. I want to continue doing trail and mountain runs. More importantly, I want to be a much better athlete.

(The author, Jeevendra Singh is a runner who works with an investment bank in the UK)

CURATING A MODEL

Ashish Kasodekar (photo: Shyam G Menon)

Some events leave a deep impression.

For Ashish Kasodekar, this was the case with a project he undertook in late 2021.

Starting November 28 that year, he had run 61 marathons over 61 consecutive days. The venue was Pune University. A route had been fleshed out on its campus and eight loops of it was equal to a marathon. Few would have doubted Ashish’s capacity to complete the project; he is among the best-known ultrarunners from India. What amazed Ashish and fuelled his motivation for those two months was the support provided by others who turned up to run and keep him company. In November 2021, the pandemic was still a recent phenomenon and restrictions hadn’t been relaxed fully. Yet people arrived. Their presence gave Ashish, who was running the same five kilometre-loop for two months, something to look forward to, every day. He recalls that in that period, never once did he require a morning alarm to wake up and go to the venue. The motivation level was that good. “ It was the most beautiful thing in my life,’’ he said of the project, which showed him what a supportive human community meant. For the purpose of Guinness Records, the number of days and marathons was kept as 60 (the previous record at that time was 59). The additional one day of running was a case of testing himself after the 60 day-period.

From the impression this project left in Ashish’s mind, was born another – a quest to link a low point in geography to a high point. Initially, he imagined the run on a grand – maybe even, audacious – scale. He could try running from the Dead Sea in West Asia (it is bordered by Jordan, Israel and Palestine’s West Bank) to the Himalaya in South Asia. At over 1400 feet below sea level, the shores of the Dead Sea represent the lowest elevation on land on the planet while the Himalaya hosts its highest peaks. He also saw in the play of words framing the project, a segway to addressing the issue of mental depression, a condition spoken of as perhaps the most widespread problem of our troubled times. “ I wasn’t expecting anyone to be cured and feeling high at the end of such a long run. I was hoping, I could convince people to enjoy the running and enjoy the passage from a low point to a high,’’ Ashish said. Physical activity like running is known to release endorphins that contribute to an improved sense of well-being. As Ashish’s project encountered reality, the angle around mental wellbeing, survived. The one attempting to connect Dead Sea and the Himalaya, stayed still born. There was a reason for it.

Ashish progressively realized that the route spanning half a continent, was a political minefield. He would be running through countries that had experienced conflict or were still trapped in conflict and by the time he reached Pakistan, there would be the frosty, unpredictable ties between India and Pakistan to negotiate. True, a project of this sort may help set a new tone for politics and understanding between people but the variables over such a long and volatile route were too many. For instance, at the time he thought of the project, Ashish didn’t have reason to worry excessively about the Levant. By October 2023, there was full scale confrontation between Israel’s armed forces and Hamas.

Ashish’s project didn’t die. Instead, after his run at the 2022 Badwater Ultramarathon in the US, Low2High (as the project came to be called) got underway in a different format. To begin with, there appeared to be no problem accessing the Himalaya in India or Nepal. So, the aspect of “ high’’ was trouble-free. “ Low’’ demanded reimagination. For the lowest point in geography, Ashish decided to search within India. West Asia’s Dead Sea was thus replaced with Kerala’s Kuttanad, which is officially the region with least elevation in India. Located in central Kerala and long famed for its paddy cultivation, Kuttanad is among the few places in the world where farming happens four to ten feet below sea level. It was decided to run from Kuttanad to Umling La in Ladakh, which at 19,024 feet is currently the highest motorable pass in the world. It was also decided to cover the distance in 76 days, so that the finish coincided with India’s 76th Independence Day on August 15, 2023. Alongside, an app was designed whereby in a repeat of the community support Ashish had enjoyed in his project of 61 marathons in 61 days, a host of people who downloaded the app were visualized aggregating 76 lakh kilometres in their daily exercise sessions. The ambitious figure of 76 lakh kilometres didn’t have to come via running alone. It could be from walking, jogging or cycling – the idea being to create a mutually engaged, supportive ecosystem for the duration of the project. The punchline was: be together, achieve together and celebrate together, all of it couched in the larger paradigm of a nation being fit if each one is physically fit.

Ashish’s own target of 76 days to project-completion required him to cover 55 kilometres every day and repeat it daily without a break. Given his background in ultrarunning, both seemed doable. Prior to this project, Ashish had – among major events – run the 333km and 555km races of La Ultra The High, Brazil 135, Badwater 135 and the 61×61 event at Pune University. Ashish commenced Low2High from Kainakary in Kuttanad, on June 1, 2023. Traditionally, that is the day when the south west monsoon hits India, the southern tip of Kerala being where it manifests first. In 2023, the onset of the annual rains (Kerala has two seasons of it every year) was tad delayed. But the pre-monsoon build-up was palpable and the early days of the run were wrapped in heat and humidity (pre-monsoon-Kerala can be quite humid). As Ashish ran northward, the monsoon slowly caught up from behind. The first rain he experienced on the run, struck in Karnataka on June 11; it poured. He did 50-55 kilometres in that weather. Ashish’s daily schedule was simple. He would start running by about 6AM; after 10 kilometres he would take a tea-break, after 21 kilometres there would be breakfast. Lunch was at around 1.30PM. He would conclude his run by 4PM. It was a mix of running and walking. By 10PM, he would go to sleep.  For the first 25-30 days, he covered roughly 60 kilometres every day.  Twenty three days after starting from Kainakary in Kuttanad, Ashish reached Pune, his home town.

At Umling La (photo: courtesy Ashish Kasodekar)

Each place he passed through, left an impression. Kerala was generally clean with good local roads to run on but irritated in the early stages of the journey with its heavy traffic. In Maharashtra, traffic made the Thane-Ghodbunder stretch tough. “ Haryana was action packed. Everyone wanted to know what I was trying to do,’’ Ashish said. There were minor physical problems. After 40-45 days of running, one evening, there was pain in his leg. It was tackled. For three days, in the wake of that leg pain, he opted to walk 50 kilometres. He had an ice bath every day. The support team traveling alongside in a vehicle found a place to stay and secured the ice. His support team included his younger brother Amit, Rishikesh Gaikwad and Harikrishnan Damalpati. Every 15 days, Ashish did a medical test. Electrolyte levels and kidney functioning were checked.  Along the way, there were social engagements too. Ashish and his team distributed 35 fitness kits (each contained items like footballs and skipping ropes) to various schools; they also gave talks. By the time Ashish reached Punjab, the heavy rains that caused havoc in Himachal Pradesh in 2023, had happened. His route had to be reconfigured here and there depending on road condition and which roads stayed open. He reached Umling La on schedule, on August 15, having covered 4003 kilometres in 76 days. Notes kept by the team show that almost half the distance covered was on NH48. Second was NH3 with roughly 450 kilometres. The notes also reveal the team’s frustration with traffic at various points.

Project Low2High lived up to expectations. Except perhaps in one department – the app found roughly 8000 subscribers and their cumulative mileage was quite short of the 76 lakh kilometres originally envisaged. However, the real take away from Low2High is the template and ideation (for example, within Kerala itself, runners could imagine linking Kuttanad to the highlands of Idukki). As Ashish pointed out, his interactions with people during the journey told him that when it came to fitness, everyone from an IT professional to a truck driver, faced the same challenge of not having the time for exercise or lacking motivation for the same. With an engaging journey for central theme and the model of a community motivated enough to keep him company, he believes he can contribute his bit to get people moving.

It was early October, 2023. “ So, what’s next?’’ I asked as we reached the end of our chat, at his house in Pune.

“ I would like to try the Barkley Marathon,’’ Ashish said referring to the race in Tennessee, rated as a difficult ultramarathon with a history of few finishers. 

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

FINDING LIFE

Nilanjan Guha Majumder (photo: Shyam G Menon)

It is not always that one finds a cycling story behind a simple recommendation on food.

I did and it was more than cycling that I found; it was the story of an interesting existence.

Early September 2023, a bid to contain one’s cost of living in Leh, saw freelance journalist search for Ladakhi food. I knew from past experience that it may prove futile for as has happened in many tourist-destinations, in Leh too, the culinary preference of outsiders overshadows what is locally consumed. One finds stylish cafes and restaurants catering to the taste buds of moneyed visitors who expect what they like everywhere they go and are willing to pay for it. It’s one of the call signs of new India; life resembles an airport – hunger is addressed not by eating affordable food but by demonstrating that one has the capacity to afford no matter what the cost.

Still, given my need had been whittled down to just the local bread or something similarly basic, I was hopeful of defiant culinary islands holding out against market forces. My search for Ladakhi food brought me to a kitchen at one end of Leh’s market and a conversation with the owners who highlighted the nutritional and economic sense in local food but admitted they too had succumbed to the new trend. “ It is affordable and it is nutritious,” the lady in the kitchen said before throwing her hands up to signal larger forces at play. There wasn’t a market big enough to support an eatery focused on Ladakhi food. On the bright side, the conversation was good. It’s the usual case, when two parties equally disappointed with contemporary drifts, meet. The kitchen had one customer. He sat there eating, quietly. At the end of my chat with the owner of the enterprise, the customer recommended that I try a kitchen elsewhere in town, which continued to offer local cuisine. That’s how I met Nilanjan. I was contemplating what to do, at the junction where Zangsti Road met Changspa Road and Sankar Road, when he emerged from the eatery. In season of Ladakh Marathon, his physicality hinted of cyclist. A short Q&A proved it right. A few days later, we conversed over lunch at a dhaba nearby.

An only child, Nilanjan Guha Majumder grew up in Uttarpara, Kolkata. His father worked with Customs & Central Excise; his mother was a housewife and entrepreneur. He did his schooling at Amarenda Vidyapith. He took to swimming when he was eight years old. Cycling was an early entrant to his life; it was his mode of transport in Uttarpara, famous for hosting Hindustan Motors, manufacturers of the Ambassador car, an icon of the India before economic liberalization. During his school days, Nilanjan loved playing cricket and featured in competitions up to the district level. College changed all that. Life became focused on academics (he still found time for volleyball and athletics). He graduated in computer studies from an institution in Bengaluru and then followed that up with a masters from Kolkata. Then, he joined Tech Mahindra in Pune. He also took a transfer back to Kolkata.

From Nilanjan’s rides in Ladakh / en route to Mahe, returning from Hanle (photo: Nilanjan Guha Majumder)

In 2007, he married his long-time girlfriend, who he knew from his schooldays. He shifted employment to Cognizant. Then, a while later, tragedy struck. Over five years spanning 2010 to 2015, both his parents and his grandmother, passed away. That was three people close to him, gone. “ I realized that nothing is permanent,’’ he said. In 2018-2019, Nilanjan and his wife decided to separate (the divorce came through in 2020). They remain good friends. In 2019, he shifted back to Bengaluru and acquired a new partner but the relationship broke up within a year.

Around the same time, he also resigned from Cognizant. It happened gradually, like something progressed towards. Prior to leaving the company, COVID-19 had struck humanity. The pandemic reauthored office operations and work styles worldwide. Just when office as surrogate home became fashionable, the virus dispatched everyone back home and made an office of it. For those not part of any herd, it must have been a time of engaging options around how to design one’s life. Nilanjan decided to travel and work remotely. He worked as a volunteer at a farm in Mysore. The farm house was beautiful and life there was calm and peaceful. The volunteering gave him time to think and make up his mind on what to do – among them, find the resolve to resign his job. The urge to quit had been building up over the preceding months. Volunteering helped him see things in perspective and find the courage to actually put in his papers. Now, educated, experienced and between jobs, he volunteered full time at the farm. He also taught children at the local village.

The owner of the farm was a dropout from the corporate world, who wished to start a school with a difference. Thanks to COVID, the situation was so bad that such plans had to be put on hold. Nilanjan had to move. He did so; to Guhagar on Maharashtra’s Konkan coast and another farm, where he volunteered. Amidst the new stint at volunteering, he also operated as a guide for tourists arrived to indulge in adventure sports. But a disagreement between the business partners concerned, saw the enterprise he worked at, shut down. Courtesy social media, he found another opportunity to volunteer in Himachal Pradesh. The location was near Banjar. According to Nilanjan, he was supposed to run a café in partnership with the owner of the facility; the larger enterprise was to be a travel company with focus on outings in the Tirthan Valley.  Around July 2022, he packed his bags and left Guhagar for Himachal Pradesh. Set to follow him, was a parcel.

From Nilanjan’s rides in Ladakh / camping in a meadow the day before crossing Wari La (photo: Nilanjan Guha Majumder)

Six years earlier, in 2016, Nilanjan had taken to cycling in a manner more committed than the commuting of his childhood. With a LA Sovereign MTB for steed, he had joined a cycling club in Kolkata. The Sovereign soon gave way to a Montra MTB. As his interest picked up and he met serious cyclists, he acquired a Java Velos 2 road bike. He took the Java with him, when he shifted to Bengaluru, a city known for its regular bicycle races and activities around cycling. During one of his rides in the city, he met Anand (Andy) and joined the latter’s cycling group. He also started going for trail runs at Avalahalli. After much use, the Java was sold to a person in Chennai. Nilanjan contacted Venkatesh Shivarama (Venky) of WheelSports in Bengaluru to buy a Polygon Bend R2, a gravel bike (it is capable of both tarmac and offroad and can be used for bikepacking trips). The new bicycle was delivered to Nilanjan in Pune. He rode it all the way to Guhagar. And when he shifted to Himachal Pradesh, the Polygon followed; it was parceled to him by Sunil Kumar Sahu, who Nilanjan trusts with transporting his bicycle. On the map, Nilanjan was now parked in Himachal Pradesh, south of Ladakh, a region loved by cyclists, climbers, hikers, runners – indeed anyone who likes freedom and exploration.

In some ways, the whole thing wasn’t accidental. Ladakh had been on Nilanjan’s mind from two to three years before his shift to Tirthan Valley. He had this vague idea of a plan – cycle from Himachal to Ladakh to Kashmir, Gujarat and South India before linking back to Kolkata. “ I had no idea what to expect. I am not a goal-oriented guy. I am a curious person, someone who keeps learning and possibly therefore, develops skills,’’ he said. Meanwhile, life in Tirthan wasn’t playing out as he would have wished it to. It seemed time to move again and explore. His former wife, who had stayed a good friend, pitched in to help. On July 28, 2022, Nilanjan set off for Ladakh on his Polygon. He proceeded to Manali and onward through the new Atal Tunnel to Sisu. There he met two friends from Kolkata and cycled with them to Sirchu. From thereon, he cycled alone. He rode via Tso Kar, Puga and Hanle to Leh, reaching there around August 20. After a brief halt, he cycled via Wari La to Nubra and returned to Leh via Khardung La. “ By now, I was in love with Ladakh,’’ he said.

The quest now was to figure out a means to hang on. Nilanjan likes photography. He approached a studio in Leh to see if the pictures he had taken, would sell. During the ensuing interaction with Rigzin and his uncle, Lobsang Visudha, Nilanjan came to know of the possibility of teaching computer applications to school children. He volunteered at Mahabodhi Residential School at Choglamsar in Leh. He taught computer studies for two and a half months. Over time, that volunteer work evolved into a proper job. From March 2023, he has been teaching there as a regular employee. Nilanjan is now a school teacher in Leh. According to him, his salary is considerably lower than what the IT industry used to pay him. But he has peace. In comparison, it was difficult to find peace in a corporate environment. During his days of volunteering at the school, he made friends with the local people. They helped him find an affordable place to stay in Leh.  “ This phase has given me a strong sense of purpose. I like guiding students,’’ he said adding that he now has a feeling of having found what he was looking for.

From Nilanjan’s rides in Ladakh / on the approach to Tso Kar (photo: Nilanjan Guha Majumder)

When I met him in September 2023, Nilanjan led an active lifestyle mixing regular workouts, running and cycling with his newfound role of school teacher. On weekends, he went for long bicycle rides (we met at the dhaba after he had finished a trip up and down, Khardung La). The Polygon has held up well, he said. He made one modification to the bicycle – he replaced the rear chainrings, originally of a 11-32 configuration, with a 11-34. It helped him get a better gear ratio for climbs. Else, the bike is pretty much unaltered. Being a gravel bike designed to do bikepacking trips as well, its gearing doesn’t have the wide range of the classic tourer’s. But Nilanjan says, he hasn’t had reason to complain despite life in Ladakh. On long trips, he rides with loaded panier bags. So far, the bicycle has tackled all the uphill, downhill and flat terrain thrown at it.

A couple of days after this chat, a friend and I had Ladakhi food at the kitchen Nilanjan recommended. It was good. But above all, finding Ladakhi food amidst the predictable trends of the market, was a pleasure.

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

DISAPPOINTED WITH LEVEL OF CORPORATE SUPPORT FOR INDIAN JUNIOR ATHLETICS: AFI PRESIDENT

Adille Sumariwalla (photo: Shyam G Menon)

The level of interest shown by India’s corporate sector in the country’s athlete nurturing program for track and field events at the junior level, has been disappointing, Adille Sumariwalla, president, Athletics Federation of India (AFI), said.

“ Everybody wants a Neeraj Chopra. Nobody wants to put money into the grassroot building of athletes,’’ he told this blog on November 4, eve of the 2023 IAU 50KM World Championships, held recently in Hyderabad. Chopra won gold in javelin throw at the 2020 Tokyo Olympics (held in July-August, 2021) to become the second Indian after Abhinav Bindra to earn an individual gold medal at the Olympics. Bindra had won gold in the men’s 10 metre air rifle, at the 2008 Olympics. While gold medal-winning elite athletes are sought after by companies wishing to feature them in their marketing campaigns, efforts to spot, nurture and grow talent at the grassroot junior level – basically, the foundation on which the story of elite achievements rests – has eluded the support of corporates.

Sumariwalla pointed out that so far, the junior programme for scouting and grooming potential in track and field events has been funded by the AFI itself. It is among the largest such programs in the world and many senior level performers owe their discovery and subsequent passage to limelight, to the program. Yet, companies have overlooked the sustained engagement that is required to support this program. They prefer instead, the ease of returns found in marketing campaigns featuring elite athletes. This is when, according to Sumariwalla, a mere spoonful of the total Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR) outlay of the top 20 Indian corporates exceeds the government’s annual sports budget. “Companies want to use corporate social responsibility money for advertising. They want to know how many eyeballs they will fetch by sponsoring the athletes. Therefore, they have no interest in supporting grassroot level athlete development programs. They are not interested in sustained engagement,” he said.

AFI has been organising the National Inter District Junior Athletics Meet (NIDJAM) since 2003. “ The way it goes is that first, 600 districts organise the district championships in two age groups – under 14 and under 16 years. The smallest districts have about 300-350 participants. The bigger districts have anything between 3,500 and 4,500 participants. The district championships are first held. Then they select 13 athletes to come for the National Inter District Junior Athletics Meet (NIDJAM). Last time, 599 districts took part. We had 6,500 children who were selected from roughly 10 lakh children who take part,” Sumariwalla said, outlining the scale of the program.

Among the state governments, Bihar government had offered limited funds. Recently, REC Ltd, a state-owned company, came aboard, offering funds for NIDJAM. But these are exceptions. “ In these 17 years, hardly any corporate evinced interest in funding or partially supporting NIDJAM. A couple of companies helped in a brief manner. AFI has supported the program internally for the last 17 years. Children get their train fare, free accommodation and free food. They come with their parents. We also feed the parents. At times we are feeding about 10,000 people each day,” Sumariwalla said. Last year, the Bihar government took up a portion of that expenditure, mainly food and accommodation. REC Ltd took up the train fare expenses partly.

AFI has sought corporate support for the program. Unfortunately, as the federation discovered, corporate interest in sports is more around marketing campaigns featuring successful elite athletes and less in sustained, long term engagement. “ We have been reaching out to corporates. The constant question from companies is: can we get Neeraj or for how many days can we get Neeraj? My answer has always been: no, you can’t get Neeraj,” he said, reiterating that sponsors need to support sports at the grassroot level. Without grassroot level programs, the pipeline feeding talent to senior athletics gets weakened.

There is also an emergent need to reimagine and support the junior program. At the last NIDJAM, 599 districts took part and 6,500 children were selected from among 10 lakh who took part in the district championships. AFI’s focus for these young athletes is to allow them to explore at least three different sports. “ We want them to have an overall development. We don’t want them to start specialisation at the age of 13, 14 and 15 and probably till the age of 17. We found that those who specialise early burn out fast. Those who took up completely different sports have done well,’’ he said.

What worries is that the conversion ratio from junior to senior athletics is very low at three to five percent. “ If we are going to lose all our athletes by the time, they are 18 years old, the program is of no use. Therefore, we do not want them to specialise in events too early on. We are even thinking of changing the national structure of the events to make sure that they participate in all kinds of odd events,” he said. The above illustrates the challenges the junior program faces and also the need to support it in a sustained fashion such that the rates of successful transition to senior athletics don’t hover at discouraging levels. AFI’s talent nurturing program at the junior level is among the best in the world. “ Supporting it is the most important thing for the development of athletics. Some of our top-notch athletes have come out of this program,” Sumariwalla said.

Notwithstanding his disappointment at corporates’ obsession with successful senior athletes, Sumariwalla believes that senior athletes’ performance has a salutary effect on the performance of junior athletes and the interest in them. For instance, the lustre around a Neeraj Chopra brushes off positively on a whole world of athletics in India. Brands such as Adidas, Puma and Asics have shown interest in AFI. “ We have been able to convince HSBC to look at the women’s program. We now have its support for the women’s program. Reliance has come in but not as large as it should be. If we do a valuation of AFI we are not even getting 10 percent of that by way of support,” he said.

With reference to the ultramarathon (Sumariwalla was in Hyderabad in connection with the 2023 IAU 50KM World Championships), he said that AFI will try to secure official recognition for the sport. Such recognition helps events and athletes to be supported by government (airfare, daily allowance etc may be possible). The classical route to recognition was the admission of a given sport to the Olympics. Ultrarunning is yet to be a part of the Olympic Games. However, at present, the Indian government also recognizes and supports sports that are not part of the Olympics. For example, squash wasn’t part of the Olympics for a long time but it was recognized by the government (recent news reports said, squash will be there in the 2028 Los Angeles Olympic Games). The way to obtain such recognition is via better performance by athletes. Once athletes return great performances and the same grabs public attention, support and traction, the government will feel motivated to recognize and back ultrarunning. Podium finishes are thus critical. The 2023 IAU 50KM World Championships witnessed a silver medal for India in the men’s team category. Further in the past, India has won podium positions in the team category at the continental championships.

According to Sumariwalla, ultrarunning is an extension of athletics and the government needs to support it. “ I think it will happen. It’s just a matter of time,’’ he said.

(The authors, Latha Venkatraman and Shyam G Menon, are independent journalists based in Mumbai)

2023 TCS AMSTERDAM MARATHON / JOSHUA BELET AND MESERET BELETE WIN

Joshua Belet (this photo was downloaded from the athlete’s profile available at World Athletics. It is being used here for representation purpose. No copyright infringement intended)

Kenyan athletes swept the podium in the men’s category while Ethiopians dominated the women’s, at the 2023 TCS Amsterdam Marathon held in the Dutch capital on Sunday, October 15.

As per results available on the website of World Athletics, top honours among men went to Kenya’s Joshua Belet. The 25-year old covered the distance in a personal best (PB) of two hours, four minutes and 18 seconds. As per Eurosport’s race report (available on YouTube), it was his first victory at a major marathon. He was followed to the finish line by compatriots Cybrian Kotut (2:04:34) and Bethwel Chumba (2:04:37).

The women’s race was won by Meseret Belete of Ethiopia (2:18:21). It was a PB. Her compatriot Meseret Abebayehu (2:19:50) placed second while Kenya’s Dorkas Tuitoek (2:20:02) placed third. There were seven Ethiopian athletes and two Kenyans in the top ten women finishers. On the men’s side, the share of the two African nations in the top ten was – three Kenyan runners and five from Ethiopia. The finishing time of winners in both the gender categories was also the third fastest time in those segments recorded yet in the Dutch capital, World Athletics said in its report.

India’s Gopi T completed his race in 2:14:55, making Sunday’s outing in Amsterdam his second fastest marathon to date. In March 2019, Gopi had clocked 2:13:39 at the year’s Seoul Marathon. It remains his PB and best performance yet by an Indian male marathoner since the late Shivnath Singh’s national record of 2:12:00 (still unbroken) set in 1978.

Gopi T (Photo: Shyam G Menon / this picture was taken in early 2023, after the year’s Tata Mumbai Marathon)

In a post-race interaction with this blog Gopi said that given the circumstances, he was happy with his performance in Amsterdam on Sunday. It was cold during the beginning of the race and while the run was on, there was rain. “ My timing was good till about 30 kilometres. After that, there was rain and I had this feeling of my legs, calf muscles and all, getting jammed. The last 10 kilometres ended up slow. Still, I am happy I ran in this weather condition because this is my second-best timing. I am happy about that. If there was no rain, perhaps the timing could have been better. It was cold in the morning; the start was in eight degrees or so. All that may have contributed. But it’s okay even though there are improvements required. After all, one has to be able to run in all types of weather conditions. Many runners reported slower timing and cramps. One tended to slip. Overall, I feel I did well under the circumstances,’’ Gopi said.

The elite marathoner has been attempting a comeback to form since knee surgery and the months of reduced activity in the sporting calendar due to COVID-19. In January, he had been the winner among Indian elites at the 2023 Tata Mumbai Marathon with timing of 2:16:41, his first major victory in a while. However his March rendezvous with the 2023 Seoul Marathon ended up a 2:18:53 because after the 32nd kilometre, he experienced a catch in his hamstring that demanded stopping, stretching and a jog to the finish thereafter. Sunday’s outcome (2:14:55) in Amsterdam, was another milestone in Gopi’s ongoing efforts to return to fine timings.

Link to video on the 2023 TCS Amsterdam Marathon, posted by Eurosport on YouTube

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

2023 CHICAGO MARATHON / KELVIN KIPTUM SETS NEW MEN’S WORLD RECORD

Kenyan athlete, Kelvin Kiptum, at the finish line of the 2023 Chicago Marathon (this photo was downloaded from the Facebook page of the event and is being used here for representation purpose. No copyright infringement intended)

Kelvin Kiptum shattered the men’s marathon world record by a considerable margin on October 8, 2023, winning the year’s Chicago Marathon in two hours and 35 seconds.

This is the first time, the time to finish in a marathon has dipped below the two hours and one minute mark in a record-eligible race. The previous world record (2:01:09) was in the name of Kenyan legend Eliud Kipchoge, set at the 2022 Berlin Marathon.

On Sunday, Kiptum, also from Kenya, lowered that by 34 seconds, quite an accomplishment given the level of performance one is talking of at these timings. The new mark is subject to ratification by World Athletics. According to Runner’s World, Kiptum ran 1:00:48 for the first half of the race and 59:47 for the second half. In its report, World Athletics noted that Kiptum passed 40 kilometres in 1:54:23 – after a 27:52 ten kilometre-split – and sped up further to finish in 2:00:35.

As impressive as Kiptum’s margin of improvement in the world record, was his margin of victory from the rest of the elite field in Chicago. His compatriot Benson Kipruto, who finished second, was nearly three and a half minutes behind at 2:04:02. Bashir Abdi of Belgium (2:04:32) placed third. Kipruto was the defending champion, coming into the race.

Sifan Hassan (this photo was downloaded the athlete’s profile page at World Athletics and is being used here for representation purpose. No copyright infringement intended)

In the women’s category, the winner was Sifan Hassan of Netherlands (2:13:44). Her timing, a new course record, was also the second fastest marathon by a woman, so far. She was followed to the finish line in Chicago by the defending champion, Kenya’s Ruth Chepngetich (2:15:37) and Ethiopia’s Megertu Alemu (2:17:09). Hassan is one of the most versatile and illustrious distance runners in her gender category. Her competence has spanned all the way from 1500m to the 10,000m on track (she has been the world champion and the Olympic champion in some of these disciplines) and the half marathon and marathon in road races.

Sunday’s race was only the third major marathon event, 23-year-old Kiptum had participated in. Prior to coming into the marathon, Wikipedia’s page on Kiptum shows him winning the Eldoret Half Marathon in Kenya in 2018, in 1:02:01. He was 18 years old then. He started participating internationally in the half marathon in 2019. He has a personal best of 58 minutes, 42 seconds in the discipline.

Kiptum made his debut in the marathon, at the 2022 Valencia Marathon, winning the race in 2:01:53. This was followed by his victory in the 2023 London Marathon, where he timed 2:01:25, just 16 seconds shy of Kipchoge’s erstwhile world record. That was in April. Less than six months later, in October, he had become the new world record holder in Chicago. Interestingly at both Valencia and London, his performance was noted for running a quicker second half of the race, something he repeated in Chicago.

“ A world record was not in my mind today… but I knew one day, one time I would be a world record holder,” Kiptum said at the finish line, adding that he is “very happy.’’ – NBC Chicago noted in its report on the record-breaking run. According to Runner’s World, Kiptum earns $ 100,000 for the victory plus $ 50,000 course record bonus.

While he may no longer be the world record holder, Eliud Kipchoge remains the first person in recorded history to have run a sub-two hour marathon. He did that in October 2019, touching 1:59:40.2 at the Ineos 1:59 Challenge held in Vienna. It wasn’t an open event and with standard competition rules for pacing and fluids not followed, the run did not count as a marathon record.

Link to video posted by NBC Chicago on YouTube showing Kelvin Kiptum finishing the 2023 Chicago Marathon.

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

ANATOMY OF A FINISH

Amit Gulia (photo: Shyam G Menon)

On the morning of September 8, 2023, much before the winner of the year’s Silk Route Ultra (SRU) crossed the finish line, another runner had completed the race. He would settle for fourth place as he belonged to the first batch of runners that set off the previous evening to tackle the 122-kilometre distance from Kyagar to Leh, up and over the 17,618 feet high-Khardung La. Judged by net timing, the Ladakhi runners of the second batch were faster. They would sweep the podium; first, second and third. Still, Amit Gulia’s timing was no small achievement. The 16 hours, 21 minutes and 25 seconds he took to place fourth was the first sub-17-hour finish in the race by a non-Ladakhi. In the ecosystem of the Ladakh Marathon, an event with altitude as its biggest challenge, non-Ladakhi runners are the outsiders taking the brunt of elevation.

Amit’s journey to that September finish had commenced five years earlier. Based in Chandigarh, Amit, 40, has a background in medical research He is a medical writer and since the past one year, he is also chief coach at Skechers Go Run club in Chandigarh. A runner since the age of 32-33, he has never run a marathon officially. He did so in training and the one thing he liked to do as runner, was to run long distances. That was how his drift to the ultramarathon happened. He found himself completing a marathon in training with others and still having room for more mileage. His first ultra was the popular event at Bhatti Lakes; a pucca start to his innings.

Thanks to their long distances, ultramarathons demand preparation, strategy and support. When Amit attempts races requiring support crew, that role is typically taken up by two people close to him. There is his wife Gurjeet Kaur, who like Amit, is a runner and a medical researcher. She takes much interest in his running. Then there is Vijay Pande, an engineer and runner based in Bengaluru, who Amit often consults to devise approach and strategy for the projects he undertakes. The two had met at a past edition of the Mashobra Ultra, which was among Amit’s first official forays into distances exceeding the length of a marathon. It was Vijay who introduced Amit to training with the altitude mask.

A December 2022 article by Ashley Mateo in Runner’s World explains what the altitude / elevation mask does. How it works is very different from training at altitude. When one trains at altitude, there is increased production of a hormone called erythropoietin (or EPO). It triggers the body to produce more red blood cells and form new blood vessels. This enables the body to deliver more oxygen to the muscles which in turn means faster and more efficient running, particularly when one returns to sea level. Altitude masks have valves or vents that regulate air intake. They can alter the quantity of air getting in but they don’t affect the mix of gases in the air inhaled. Consequently, when used while training at low altitude, one does not get the same benefits as when training at elevation. It is not an exactly similar situation. However, restricting the air intake contributes to something called inspiratory muscle training. It increases the strength of the respiratory muscles which can eventually translate to the ability to bring more air into one’s lungs. That’s potentially more oxygen that can get into the bloodstream. More oxygen in the muscles means one finding it easier to exercise. In other words, the mask-route is not precisely the same as training at altitude but it has an oblique benefit by way of strengthening the respiratory muscles.

The route of Silk Route Ultra with elevation of starting line, finish and key points in between (photo: Shyam G Menon)

Amit’s use of the device started during his preparations for the 2017 edition of La Ultra The High, an event with a basket of ultramarathons happening in Ladakh. Initially, the mask was difficult to use. But given the event he had signed up for, Amit had no other option; he persevered. That year, he won the 222 km-category of La Ultra The High, the first Indian to do so (archived results of the event show the winner’s timing as 38 hours, 20 minutes). It was Amit’s first ultramarathon at altitude; the route of the 222 km-race touched both Khardung La and Wari La (over 17,400 feet high). The template for acclimatization he fashioned for that race, has remained thereafter his rule book for races in Ladakh. Besides regular training at low altitude and the use of the altitude mask for some of the sessions therein, the other noteworthy aspect was Amit’s protocol for pre-race days in Leh. Unlike the typically anxious participants of these races who continue running at elevation or make last minute dashes to high altitude in a bid to get familiar with the environment, Amit focused on rest. In the fortnight he reserved for acclimatization before the 2017 La Ultra The High, he rested in Leh and walked around locally. There weren’t any runs, car or bike trips to still higher altitude as preparation for the race and its high passes. What is generally overlooked in such cases is that for people coming to high altitude from the outside, post-exercise recovery and healing in activities done during the acclimatization period, misses the richer oxygen levels of lower elevation. “ In my opinion, visits to high altitude and exerting oneself during the acclimatization phase before a race, inflicts damage without adequate time for healing and recovery. I stayed off such practices. Consequently in 2017, when the race started, I was feeling as though I was running in the plains. I have been repeating this protocol ever since. I prepare in the plains and rest ahead of a race at altitude,’’ Amit said.

Following the first-place finish at the 2017 La Ultra The High, in 2019, he was the top finisher among non-Ladakhi runners in the 72 kilometre-Khardung La Challenge (KC). He covered the distance in 9:22:50 to place eleventh among men. The next two years were claimed by COVID-19. Sports events came to a halt worldwide or were reduced to a trickle. In 2022, when the Ladakh Marathon returned after the pandemic, Amit and his friend Rakesh Kashyap, decided to attempt the inaugural edition of SRU. They planned to do it like a training run ahead of attempting the year’s Spartathlon in Greece. Joining them were Munish Jauhar and Anmol Chandan, also from Chandigarh, who had signed up to attempt the SRU and KC respectively. Amit followed the same acclimatization pattern as he did for the 2017 La Ultra The High. The race started well for him. At the 60 kilometre-mark, he was comfortably positioned in the pecking order, when he began having problems consuming the energy gels he had brought along. In the biting cold of altitude, the gels had become thick in consistency and when consumed, got stuck in his throat. He wanted hot water to wash it down. But at the aid stations, he passed, hot water was not available. He was told that he may get it further up on the way to Khardung La, at the aid station in North Pullu. But Amit sensed it was becoming a choice between pushing his luck and preserving his well-being for Spartathlon. He opted for the latter; he withdrew from the race. As did Rakesh, sometime later. Munish and Anmol had fine outings. Munish finished SRU in 19:47:40 to place seventh among 19 men in the fray; Anmol completed KC in 9:34:51 to place seventeenth among the 140 men in his category (source: 2022 Ladakh Marathon / SRU and KC results). Back in Leh and his throat condition addressed, Amit ran the event’s full marathon. In the weeks that followed, both he and Rakesh flew to Greece and completed Spartathlon.

Early morning September 8. Amit Gulia at the very front of the 2023 Silk Route Ultra; location: between North Pullu and Khardung La, not far from the pass (photo: Shyam G Menon)

By now Amit was sure that he would return to Ladakh for SRU. For the 2023 edition of SRU, he commenced training in mid-June. Besides his training runs, he worked out using the altitude mask. At the gym he frequented, he kept the treadmill at a good incline and walked with the altitude mask on. Each session with the mask lasted between 40 minutes to an hour. He did this twice a week. Once again Rakesh and Anmol joined him on the trip to Leh; this time all three would be running SRU. As the event drew close, Amit was sure that he was going to complete it within the stipulated cut-off time of 22 hours. Within that expectation, he set himself three options. The first was aggressive – cover the 122 kilometres in 15 hours to 15 hours and 15 minutes. Second, keep it sub-16 hours. In case both of the above proved tough, then do a sub-17. Third – complete the race at any cost. “ I have a habit of challenging myself,’’ Amit said over coffee at a café in Leh on September 11. Besides his goals in terms of overall timing for 2023 SRU, he divided the race into sections – Kyagar to Khardung, Khardung to North Pullu, North Pullu to Khardung La, Khardung La to South Pullu and South Pullu to Leh – to evolve a strategy and assign expectations. He planned to cover the first 50 kilometres in five hours and was happy when on race day, the stretch was actually done in five hours, 20 minutes. From Khardung to North Pullu, he had estimated a duration of three hours. It too was managed in and around the planned time. By now he had 50 per cent of the race in the bag and was the race leader. But the section from North Pullu to Khardung La proved tough.

The group of runners Amit was in – the first batch of the race – had left Kyagar, late evening on September 7. Aside from the odd street light at settlements like Khalsar and Khardung, the road wound on and uphill in utter darkness. By the time Amit commenced tackling the uphill from Khardung village to Khardung La, it was past midnight. The North Pullu-Khardung La portion came some hours after that. Sizable gaps separated the runners. Some proceeded alone; some stuck together. With traffic suspended for the duration of the race, it was quiet. One heard the sound of athletes breathing, the swishing of wind cheater fabric and the sound of shoes on gravel, as person passed by. An occasional nuisance were dogs, some of them, territorial. Race officials, moving up and down the road, chased the animals away. Viewed from far, sole stamp of runner’s presence in that vast, dark mountainous landscape was, each person’s headlamp. In between, one saw the brighter solar lamps of aid stations. Amit was ahead of everyone else, all by himself. “ I was feeling exhausted. I was shivering like hell. I had on, two pairs of gloves, three jackets and two caps. I was finding it difficult to drink water from the bottle,’’ he said. Amit reached the 17,618 ft-pass almost an hour later than what he had planned. The pass is a tricky place. Given the stretch spanning North Pullu to Khardung La as the place where many people withdraw due to exhaustion, reaching the pass in SRU, represents a milestone achieved. But with that can come a loss of appreciation for where exactly one is. The pass is high in elevation and bitterly cold. There is an aid station at Khardung La, where one can hydrate, get some nourishment and also rendezvous with drop-bags positioned in advance. Runners like Amit treat Khardung La carefully; they don’t let the milestone bit get into their head. Hanging around unnecessarily at the highest part of the race does nothing useful to the body. The emphasis is on shedding elevation. With the environment quite cold, oxygen level at the pass known to be lower than at sea level and his body feeling fatigued, Amit picked up a glass of hot soup from the aid station at the pass and quickly moved on. Ahead lay the long descent to Leh.

Amit does strength training thrice a week. He had trained for long descents. He was prepared for the downhill that follows Khardung La. But even he miscalculated what his needs may be, that September 8 dawn. It was a miscalculation on the logistics front. Layering and de-layering is how athletes functioning at altitude manage their attire to stay efficient. It is an act that seeks to strike a balance between protection from the elements, the temperature of one’s surroundings and the warmth, the body naturally generates as it works. Amit forgot to keep a drop-bag in advance at Khardung La so that he could de-layer in anticipation of the descent and the need of such faster movement to have less layers getting in the way. Minus drop-bag to leave his layers in, he stayed imprisoned in piles of clothing and gear that had served its purpose. So even as he exited Khardung La without wasting much time, he was bulky and hauling weight. He had on his upper layers, two layers on his legs, two pairs of gloves, two caps, hydration pack and trekking poles. Simply put, he couldn’t take advantage of the descent and run. He had kept his next drop-bag at South Pullu, several kilometres away on the Leh side. When on tired legs, every ounce of weight is acutely felt. Try running with too many layers on and one’s cocoon of clothing risks becoming unbearably warm. Till South Pullu, he moved inefficiently.

Amit Gulia on the final stretch from South Pullu to Leh (photo: courtesy Amit)

Meanwhile behind him, on the northern slopes of Khardung La, Amit’s friends were coping with a vastly different experience. Neither Rakesh nor Anmol own altitude masks. They had trained for SRU without it. According to Anmol, he compensated for the absence of such a gadget by resorting to high repetition interval training in the plains, which has the effect of improving respiratory efficiency. All that seems to have gone well. In retrospect, what happened after their training in Chandigarh was hugely different for the trio. In the pre-race acclimatization phase in Leh (11,500 ft), Anmol’s path and that of Rakesh, diverged sharply from Amit’s. Rest is very important in acclimatization. “ Amit does not do anything before a race at altitude. He rests. I reached Leh on August 28 and from then till around September 5, I piled on 70 to 80 kilometres in training. I don’t know why; that’s my style and it had worked for me in 2022,’’ Anmol said adding, “ Rakesh also put on similar mileage.’’ This time, the approach didn’t work. When this writer met Amit, Anmol and Rakesh in Kyagar, they appeared relaxed and in good spirits. But according to Anmol, at the start line of SRU late evening September 7, he was on tired legs. He realized he hadn’t recovered from all that running around in Leh.

The night of September 7, for about 30-35 kilometres since race commencement, Anmol and Amit were together. Then Amit pushed ahead. Around 60 kilometres covered and on the long ascent to Khardung La, Anmol began experiencing dizziness. He tuned into the sensation and decided to get it checked. Near North Pullu, he consulted the medical team that was present there with ambulance alongside. His oxygen saturation had dropped. He was otherwise feeling alert. It was very cold and so he was asked to try walking some more to see if the oxygen saturation level improved. Anmol figured that may not be viable. Such a walk would only be uphill given Khardung La was still some distance away. The terrain and direction of travel wouldn’t allow an improvement in his oxygen saturation unless he stopped or lost elevation. “ I told myself this is not a Kumbh Mela, something that happens only once in several years and therefore having to be done right now at any cost. I can always come back to try SRU again. I decided to quit the race there,’’ Anmol said.

Rakesh too gave up. But in his case, he may have misjudged his predicament. Rakesh’s exit from SRU was reportedly after some more distance (than Anmol) covered and it manifested as a collapse. Around the time of this incident, there was a bus carrying the baggage of KC runners (at 3AM that day, KC had commenced from Khardung village) and some runners who had retired from SRU, coming from North Pullu. Two of the runners in the bus helped this writer, recreate the scene. It was the morning of September 8. There were both KC and SRU participants running and walking on the road. The bus had just passed an ambulance parked by the roadside, when some distance away, one of the (above mentioned two) runners witnessed Rakesh collapse to his right side. Another runner, who was still in the race, stopped to tend to him. Upon reaching the scene, the bus driver halted the vehicle and honked to alert the ambulance behind. The runners from the bus stepped out to help. They told the racer who had stopped to assist Rakesh, to carry on as they were available. By then, the ambulance had arrived. Four people were required to help Rakesh into the ambulance. He kept saying that he was capable of continuing. But the doctor in the ambulance pointed to Rakesh’s collapse, put his foot down and said the race was over for him. “ It was between North Pullu and Khardung La, I would think 70 kilometres or so overall, from the start line of SRU,’’ one of the runners said. Rakesh received medical attention. He recovered. “ He is fine now,’’ Anmol told this blog on September 29. While on the SRU course, Amit knew nothing of what happened to his friends. He got updates only after he finished the race.

Amit Gulia crossing the finish line of the 2023 Silk Route Ultra in Leh (photo: courtesy Amit)

At South Pullu, Amit took 20-25 minutes to de-layer and have a warm cup of tea. Thus revitalized, he did a decent jog from there to Leh. “ I even pushed myself a bit,’’ he said, adding with a smile of satisfaction, “ if I remove all the time I lost to resting, and just aggregate the time spent moving, I clocked around 15 hours, 20 minutes and 10 seconds.’’ In all, over the 122 kilometres covered, Amit took three major breaks – at Khardung village, North Pullu and South Pullu. End to end, including any rest he may have availed, Shabbir Hussain of the Indian Army’s Ladakh Scouts regiment (he started the race one and a half hours after Amit did, in the second batch), won the 2023 SRU in 15:27:53. Amit would like to come back to Ladakh and improve his timing at SRU. “ There are some races, which are close to my heart. SRU is one of them. The finish line, located in Leh’s main market, is a fantastic experience. When I crossed the finish line, besides the spectators, there were people coming out from nearby shops to congratulate me. The congratulations in town continued the next day too,’’ he said.

(The author, Shyam G Menon, is a freelance journalist based in Mumbai. While the running community knows Amit as Amit Gulia, his official name – and the way it appears on race results – is Amit Kumar. At La Ultra The High, his name appears as Amit Chaudhary.)                  

“ I WOULD LIKE TO ATTEMPT 100 KM-RACES AND 24-HOUR STADIUM RUNS”

Shabbir Hussain (photo: Shyam G Menon)

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. 

View of Darket (photo: courtesy Shabbir Hussain)

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.

Shabbir Hussain finishing first in the 2023 Silk Route Ultra (photo: Shyam G Menon)

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.)

MY ROAD TO THE FINNISH FINISH LINE

Corina (Cocky) Van Dam; at the Vinfast Ironman 70.3 World Championship 2023, in Lahti, Finland (photo: courtesy Cocky)

As age category winner in Ironman 70.3 Goa in 2022, I was eligible to register for the Vinfast Ironman 70.3 World Championship 2023 in Lahti, Finland. I dreamt of participating in a world championship when I was a young girl but never thought that this dream would come true at the age of 58…!

My development from athlete to triathlete has been an organic one. I have always loved sports and through the years (and the accumulation of age) I had increasingly started loving the volume of work-outs rather than the intensity. The longer a practice or race, the more interesting I found it to be. However, in order to not finish last in the world championship (which was my goal!), I had to increase the intensity of my workouts and speed / pace in the different elements. To cut a long story short…, though I had an excellent cycling coach in Abishek Avhad, I had not been able to cut a substantial chunk of my race time when it mattered. But the success that I celebrate is that I finished as nr. 141 out of 161 in my age category (mission accomplished!).  And although I feel a bit ashamed that `my fans’ celebrate me as if I am the world champion, I am proud that I have been able to finish in a world championship surrounded by excellent athletes while enjoying the event to the fullest.

The challenges that I had to overcome prior to the race, were ‘swimming in a wetsuit’ and the thought of swimming in ‘cold water.’ With my Ironman (IM) travel mate Ritesh Thakkar, I took advantage of the public open water swimming spaces in Helsinki, where residents of the city dip in the water for their morning swim. I was so relieved when the water appeared to be ‘only’ 19.5 degrees Celsius cold. The Ironman practice swim in Lahti gave me the confidence that I would manage this leg. It seemed easy: no loops, no mass start, buoys with numbers and a finish line that could be seen from a distance. However, I was seriously intimidated by all those athletic bodies in shiny black wetsuits. The three women from Singapore said to me what I thought of every other athlete present: “ We hope you’re not in our age category…!’’  I received another shock during the bike check-in, the day before the race. While I checked the simplest Scott road-bike in, the poor thing was surrounded in Transition 1 (T1) by equipment from a different family: TT bicycles, carbon frames with disk wheels, aerodynamic helmets….

Corina (Cocky) Van Dam; from the Vinfast Ironman 70.3 World Championship 2023 (photo: courtesy Cocky)

As we were commuting from Helsinki to Lahti by train, we tried to do as many of the activities on the day of our registration, such as the welcome dinner and the Parade of Nations, so that we could meet other participants. I represented the Netherlands and I joined the group of Dutch people lining up behind the red-white-blue flag. As during an Olympic Games opening, we walked through Lahti Stadium which is situated at the bottom of three spectacular ski jumping hills (with a swimming pool at the landing) and waved at everyone who wanted to wave at us. The commute also gave us a chance to talk to ordinary Finnish travellers, IM participants and their families from different countries. During one of the trips – a special morning train from Helsinki on event day (like the Tata Mumbai Marathon train but only with triathletes) – we sat with the family of Steven McKenna, one of the professional triathletes. We could not get enough of listening to stories about his preparations and attitude towards the sport.

The world championship was held over two days. The first day was for us, women. From my first step in Helsinki Central Station to the last in the evening, I was surrounded by vibrant female concentration, power and energy. Countless were the moments that I felt emotional.

Not the least, when the professionals were being introduced to the audience and lined up for the race. After the Finnish national anthem, we could hear a pin drop in anticipation of the race start. And there they went… the pros, our role models, kicking off the long-anticipated event.

I was thrilled to participate with 2000 other participants in a women’s only race. As female triathletes in India, we are always surrounded by male participants. Often, there are only a few women present and I have been in races where I was the only one registered in my age category. I cannot describe how exciting it was to stand at the starting line with 160 women of my own age: wrinkles, grey hair peeking out from under our green swimming caps and singing and dancing to the music in our tight wetsuits that showed our trained and toned bodies in all their glory. Of course, I panicked when the swim started, as I always do. This time my contact lens moved when I jumped into the water. I immediately realised that if I lost it, I would not have any replacement or glasses for the rest of the race since the start / finish (the ‘Finnish finish line’) / Transition 1 and Transition 2 were all in different places. Shubham Vanmali, one of India’s great ultra swimmers and a recipient of the Tenzing Norgay National Adventure (sport) Award once told me that cold water amplifies fear. I did not allow this to happen. I managed to control myself and started enjoying the swim though my timing was not as it could have been.

Corina (Cocky) Van Dam; from the Vinfast Ironman 70.3 World Championship 2023 (photo: courtesy Cocky)

The cycling route was one loop through a rolling landscape. We crossed forests, meadows, and a few villages. The roads were closed and we just had to pedal without fear for upcoming traffic or potholes. Of course, there are always too many hills and there is too much head wind. After 30 kilometres of cruising, the road made a sharp bend and an awful hill showed its ugly face. At the sudden start of the climb, I approached another athlete and joked: “ I did not see this coming.” It happened to be Maitreyi Bokil and we both laughed. I managed to overtake a few triathletes but have especially learnt to recognize the sound of TT bikes closing in on me from behind. After the race, I kidded that I had overtaken 10 cyclists and had been overtaken by 100. Since there were many (younger) age categories that started behind us (the 55–59-year-olds), it did not matter. But of course, it always hurts.

With the run, in sight, I was relieved that I had completed the riskier activities (being caught by fear / cold during swimming – one female triathlete died during the swim – or a mechanical issue while cycling) which can end one’s race prematurely. The half marathon was fun. As on the cycling route, the residents of Lahti were sitting in front of their houses with their families, cheering us on. They sat in their foldable chairs, ringing cowbells or banging pots and pans with spoons. The run was two laps and it was painful to see athletes keeping right and head towards the finish while we had to start our second loop. When I used a hill to consume one of my LEAP gels, I heard my name and Ketaki Sathe flew past me. Wow! My running time was the same as during my last triathlon event and my overall timing was a carbon copy of Ironman 70.3 Goa in 2022.

It is a good practice during Ironman races that every athlete is as welcomed as the winner among the professionals is. With 15,000 volunteers, all 6000 participants received the support that we needed. After the race, no idlis or upma but pizza, hotdogs, ice cream, muffins, chips and Coke….! Race day was party time.

Corina (Cocky) Van Dam; from the Vinfast Ironman 70.3 World Championship 2023 (photo: courtesy Cocky)

The next day, I had a chance to watch the 4000 men racing. I thought I would have a quiet day but as it happened, I had to run up and down Lahti to see the professionals start their swim, run to T1 to see them finish and start cycling, run back to see Ritesh start his swim 2.15 hours after the professionals started (take pictures for his family at home), run to the road to see the professionals heading to T2, run back to watch Ritesh finish his swim and transition in T1 (another picture), and in a hurry run to the finish to watch the pros completing their case…  I walked 23 kilometres as recovery, the day after my race. But it was great to watch without pre-race day tension, cheer the Indian participants on and experience the race as spectator from the first to the last finisher.

I had an unforgettable time as amateur / tourist, but it became clear that I am in no position to compete with the best in my age category at a world championship. Participating has been a humbling experience. It has shown me how privileged I am that I had learnt swimming, cycling and running from a young age so that I could participate in a race like this. I could also afford to pay for the registration, flight and accommodation which is not the case for many of the age group winners in India and others in the Global South. For now, the Ironman World Championship remains an event for the privileged ones. And this privileged one needs to step up if she wants to be more than just a tourist at another Ironman 70.3 World Championship.

(The author, Corina [Cocky] Van Dam works with an NGO. She lives in Mumbai.)