"The Mountains are calling and I must go..." - John Muir

The Himalayan Crossing - The Spiti (168K)


Prelude:

Whats next? It's a perennial question I'm asked. I guess it applies to all runners. Although it's not exactly my thought process, I guess it gets registered in some corner of the mind. So, I act likewise. I've done 100k. Next? I search the internet for cues. There are many races abroad. In Europe, US its quite frequent. Me? I have never set foot abroad. Cant afford it. Let me stick to India for now. I come across this 100 miler in the Himalayas. The Spiti valley in Himachal. Elevation gain of 7700ft. It's expensive. And exciting! I reach out to the organizers, plead for a discount and register. And train like crazy. Putting in 100 mile weeks.I ran/cycled everywhere. Barely socialized - not that I have much of a social life, anyhow. I believe ultra running is quite linear. Your results are proportional to the efforts you put in. As you sow, so shall you reap. No pain, no gain. Ok, enough cliches.

I depart from home. BMTC Bus 2 hrs. Train to Chandigarh 54 hrs. Auto 1 hr. Bus to Manali 12 hrs. Share share a taxi to Kaza 9hrs. Total travel time: 78hrs. Reach the venue exhausted. Or maybe its the lack of oxygen at 13000 ft? Mala Honnatti the experienced mountaineer and runner has volunteered to be my crew. I'm filled with gratitude. Absorb whatever advice I receive from this veteran. On arrival, the organizers - Globeracers puts us at ease there. 

Penultimate day:

Wake at 6. Half expected volunteer Monish to join me on a run to Komic - claimed to be the highest village in Asia. No sign of him. So, I strap on my watch, grab an energy bar and head out. Quickly, I start the climb. All around I see humongous mountains. Barren. Such serene landscape. Numerous streams below - all join to form the Spiti river. My companion for the next two days, I thought. 20 mins into the run, I sense a parched throat. Not surprising. As I continue it feels like sandpaper rubbing. Take stock of the situation. Here I am, miles away from civilization in the wee hours of the day and I have no water. Not wise to proceed. So, I decide to head back. As I reach the plains, I see this man trudging towards me with a bib fastened to his trouser. No doubt, its him - Mr.Bhupenderasingh Rajput. My mentor/ally/companion in this run. Humbly I request - "Sir, may I run with you for a while?" On his approval, we exchange pleasantries. I see what I would have in store. Medical checks in an ambulance - Vitals i.e. BP, Pulse oxygen measurement etc. Short sound bytes for the film crew. The support crew providing nutrition. Once done, we are back up the mountain again. Armed with a bottle of water, we are hiking. Having never run in such circumstances, numerous doubts crop up in mind which are clarified by the man himself. You consume energy gels? Naah. Nutrition? A slice of bread and tea. Clothing? A simple tee and track pants with gloves for the cold. What when it gets windy? Cover your ears (Do not to plug them, I later realized). How to tackle water crossings? "Just go" he signals with a simple flick of his wrist and closed eyes. Belittling the significance of it all. Now, thats freezing cold water from the mountains (Snow from the peaks melting). "It will dry, just go". I guess this man is in a different league or he is disoriented due to lack of sleep. Soon, I realize its the former. Bewildered, I remember not to exert myself so I bid goodbye and head back. Eat and rest time. Race briefing, gear check and medical check - done. Need to put some sleep in the bank. I'll need it. In the evening I call my folks and Shweta. People who matter. Blessings taken, gratitude expressed. Now I lie down and no matter what, I cant sleep. Tossing and turning. Frequent peeing. Eagerness, nervous excitement its called. Shucks! What have I got myself into :-0

D day:

This is it. Night has passed and its 4 am. I'm up and ready to go. After loading my supplies in  the Sumo, a brief chat with Mala maam, I took the starting line. Numerous pics later, I start amidst cheers. " This is what I came for". A Cloudy sky and a chilly breeze greets me. Cool, lets go. On my way to Reckring village (~10k). I spot a man with a backpack trudging along. "Hello! Having a good time?". "Sure, mate" replies Rod from Australia. New South Wales. " What you doing here?" " I've been here since 3 years. Love the mountains" "I run this route every morning". Such awesome people exist here. "I'm running 100 miles" I say. Unflustered. He knew I was a rarity on this stretch. "Go on mate" he says with some departing wisdom. " Your legs will take you as far as your mind wants it to" Yeah, absorbed that. Stored it in my memory card. I would need to retrieve it later on. For sure. As I keep moving, the sun peeks out. Have my first calorific intake. Good. All that carb-loading the previous day have done my bowel no favors. I have to go. Off the road I see a broken wall so I head there. Drop my pants and do my business. I call it - The loo with a view. As my friend Abhishek always says, "when you gotto go, you gotto go". Download complete, my system feels much better. Off I go again at a good clip. Lovely landscape. No better feeling in the world. And its just the beginning. As I pass a small patches of farm, a few local women greet me - "Juley!" . Ah, such simple people, such a simple life.

I've got miles to go. I was told that Mr B. was ahead. I didnt expect to see him till later on in the day. Surprise surprise, around 30k I see him up in the distance. Up my pace. Only to be stopped by doctor Saab to check my vitals. Mala maam assures me - u gonna catch him. Take it easy. Here take some salt. In all that hurry, just gobbled a lump of salt and took off.  There is something about a fellow runner ahead of me. It ignites a spark or Nitros, if you may. Charged upto him, exchanged pleasantries, and kept going with his consent. 

Now, I've taken a decent lead. It's mid-day. I tell my crew to go ahead - not to wait at such frequent intervals. We'll catch up at the next village or after an hour. Big mistake. As I climb, the wind picks up. Rushes into my uncovered ears - Swish!! A permanent Swhishhh! Swoooshhhh! If I turn left or right. A headache is building up. Like an irritating migraine. Throbbing, swelling. I feel like my brain is expanding and trying to explode from my skull. I can almost feel the back of my head swell up. Am I delirious? No, its AMS. Combined with the excessive salt intake. Improper acclimatization, perhaps. Just unable to push myself. Its slow torture. Wonder how Chinese water torture must feel.There is a degree of masochism associated here. 5k to next village Losar feels like eternity. Sit on a rock to gather strength. Now, I amble along. Afternoon, the harsh sun's rays are belting down on me merciless. I wanna sleep. Just a power nap perhaps. Amble into Losar and whine. Still, I say - I'm going ok - my muscles are ok. Was given a Combiflam. Although I feel pukish, I dont reveal it to everyone. I'm thrust this plate of rice and dal. The dal seems to contain a million spices. No mood to shove it down. My first crew altercation. - "Must listen to Mala maam" - I make a mental note. A good 40 mins pass by as I took the pill and lie down. And Mr B. chugs in. Gotto go. Feeling better, and faking rejuvenation, I set off. Belted the climb. By evening, I'm 10 miles from Kunzum pass. Doctor Saab offers to run along. Sure, tag along. What a character. Strong character, strong fella. Keeps me power-hiking. Stories of France, cycling etc keeps me intrigued. By dusk (7.45pm) I've reached Kunzum la. Its windy and chilly. In a short while, the conditions deteriorate. And Karma shows why she can be a bitch.

"So, the trail to Chander Taal is too dangerous to continue now. We will continue to Batal" states the race director. But wait till Mr. B. arrives. Till when? No idea? Where is he? No idea. Clearly perturbed. Agitated. I Sit in the Sumo at 15000 feet. Am offered some Maggi. Just gobble it down emotionless. WTF! Livid now. 3 hrs later we see a flickering light in the distance. It's him, he's here. It takes another hour for him to restart. This is pissing me off. Do I have a choice? No. Heck, we start together. I'm wearing 4 layers of clothing. The momentum is lost. My erstwhile strong legs feel like lead now. Rusty and creaky. Regardless, I chug along. In a way, I want his company. In reality, his pace is slow. Sumo driver is also cranky now. Says he cant follow me at this pace as he has to drive with frequent clutch depression. Mala maam tells me to hasten up. I do a quick problem solving by evaluating my options. Yep, gotto listen to my crew. I take off. Honestly, I dont find this fun. Just a beam of light ahead and darkness all around. For hours downhill. I reach Batal and further drama. Driver says he needs sleep and cannot go on. Mala maam too looks for a sleeping place at the dhaba. Heck, I'm not here to sleep but here the situation demands it. I only remove my shoe and with all my gear no, just lie down. Till when? Daybreak (maybe 5)? Maybe the crew will wake me once a driver is available. But most of the race officials seems to be cozy at the rest house next door. I know I need no alarm here. Hours pass by. 2 maybe 3 hours later race director says Mr. B. is approaching. Yep, I tie my shoe lace and start off in early darkness. Tell my crew to catch up. As night turns to day, my mood improves. I switch off my headlight. Longing for the sun. So bad. At dawn, I negotiate water crossing. This negotiation means, climbing up the mountain side (not the valley side)on fours at times, over rocks to pass the stream. Just keep eating and running. I try listening to music for a while. Listen to my favorite Rich Roll podcast. Nothing seems to perk me up. The sun peeks over the mountain. Aah! "Good morning, Sir. How glad am I to see you". Over the morning I see a few travelers on the way. One from a car bearing TS registration asks me the usual questions. "You running for 2 days? Good Luck." I sense a bit of sarcasm and you-are-crazy in his voice. I run further into the valley. I take this scene as a mental snapshot - Huge mountains left and right. Clouds at their peaks. The peaks are snow capped. Like Vanilla Ice cream on a choco-brownie cake. A stream slowing to my left. Green grassy banks. There is a tent pitched on one of those banks. A furry black dog sniffs around. This is life. Miles away from any trace of civilization. No sign of litter. I wonder how many humans set foot here since time immemorial. Perhaps they can be counted in fingers. Reluctantly, I move on. As I cross the 100 K mark , the RD congratulates me. I dont think much about it but know its a significant milestone. I've never run such distances prior. Another box ticks off, mentally this is uncharted territory. I find a downward gradient. Now its power hiking the ups and belting the downs. I dont know when/how but I feel this sharp pain in my left knee beneath the patella. I check my watch. 30 miles to go. My pace drops. I try not to think about it but its a tell-tale sign of an injury. Perhaps, I've twisted my knee landing on a stone downhill. But each time I land and bend my knee to extend-off, its jarring. Like a knife stabbing in there.

One of my favorite book is Eat and Run by Scott Jurek. In that, Scott wrote 2 words before signing it for me - Dig Deep. I realize the significance of that now. What it truly means. 

Shuks, I alter my gait to mitigate the pressure and trudge along. Reach Chattru. I've really slowed down here. Mala ma'am gets worried. Eat lunch here. Surprisingly, dal-chaawal goes down well today. I quite like it. Doctor Saab sees me tending to my knee and applies a white gel as a solution. I've never been a fan of this. It worsens the situation. I change my socks and freshen up. All in a relaxed manner. No sense of urgency as I was informed that I'm doing excellent - pace wise. Film-maker Padma approaches me with her camera and asks why I feel the race has not begun. "Well, there's Rohtang Pass" I indicate to the mountain up ahead. Wikipedia refers to it as pile of corpses due to people dying in bad weather trying to cross it. Driver Chering told me of the tale where a man stepped out there to pee and died - during the act, he mentioned. Now I hear that Mr B. is approaching. I think, no worries, his medical check is due and I'll take off before him. But no. He carries on sans stoppage. Got to catch up. Here things worsen. There is a climb again. Mr B. takes a good lead going through water crossings. At this stage, the snow has melted and water is flowing rapidly. Even a few Enfield riders have trouble going through. I watch them struggle and recollect my riding days in the mountains. Let them learn, I thought. I encounter 3 or 4 water crossings along the way. I try to negotiate it from the mountain side but its not like before. So here are my repeated steps - remove shoe, socks. Cross Icy-waters. Wear the socks with a muggy foot inside. Repeat. I'm not a happy chappy. The pain is getting worse. Slowing down as a result.

Running injured: This is what goes on mentally- Ok. Accept the fact. Its beyond my control. There is definitely something wrong. Can it be reversed? Not in the immediate future. Can it be mitigated? Yes, I'll try. Tried that white gel - no go. Try D Spray. Somewhat better. Ok, now ignore the pain and push through. The body involuntarily limps. Try as much but cant maintain the running pace beyond few steps. No matter how gritty you get. Stop and do a slow motion of the correct running gait. Aaah - I feel the pain. Going further would put strain on other muscle groups which leads to some other pain because of imbalance. Frustrating! I cant super analyze at this stage. So, I keep limping. As runners, we often enter a calm, subconscious meditative state where no thought goes into the running act per se. Almost zen-like. Thats efficiency. Here, where this state is elusive, its not running, it's pure suffering. 

Another Dig Deep phase for me. Its all uphill so I console myself by thinking thats easier on my knee. Reach Gramphu- The base of the Rohtang climb. Seeing Mr B. in the distance, I up my pace and overtake him. He's climbing with a pole (a makeshift pole obtained from the branch of a tree - I wonder where?) . Looks like Gandhi ;-) Give the guy some credit - he's been on the move since 4 days. Its a Cat1 climb ahead (that too 18.35Kms!). So I power-hike tediously. Half-way up, I see some paved roads. Decide to change shoes. Still limping. The looping roads seems endless. A black furry dog which responds to 'boy', gives me company. "Come on, boy" and it would trot right beside me, pacing me. I reach the top and see the end point of the previous edition. Is the end nigh? I wonder. I'm informed that there's still 10 miles to go. It's 168K not a 100 miles. Mala ma'am joins me running. I never asked, she never mentioned. What a lady. Such diligence after tending to my every request the past 33 hours or so. This 62 year-old lady is pushing me through. Chilly winds, dense fog - visibility is near zero, drizzle, then heavy rain, slush. Its a combination of the above. Ten painful miles. Its a flat road, the mind says go, go, go.. but the injured limp continues. Why me? Why now? I feel helpless. It feels like eternity. Its dark now. The village Marhi is the destination. I spot a flickering light below. Its not a vehicle light. Must be those LED headlamps.  "That's gotto be it", I tell her. We up the pace. About 1K to go, the RD is there egging me on. Doctor Saab ask me the much repeated question- "When does the race start?". "It starts now!" As the emotions emerge, I break into a sprint. "This is what I came for" Repeats in my head. Now I charge. "Yeeeaaahh!" The ghoulish yell signifies my crossing. The Himalayan crossing. The finish line is crossed and the eyes swell up. I'm in no mood for the camera. Stand there nevertheless among the 'crowd'. Really? This is it? Over? I'm spent. I thank everyone personally and sit on a chair. Yes, a chair.

Runs may end. Running does'nt.