I go to nature to be soothed and healed and to have my senses put in order - John Burroughs
Uttarakhand. Also referred to as Devbhumi or "Land of the Gods". So what business does this atheist - yours truly - have here? Well, if Gods reside here, there must be something special, something exquisite. It gnawed at me. I had to find out.
Shashi drops us at the airport. Chaitanya (My buddy/crew member/pacer who I'll refer to as C) and I have been eagerly looking forward to this. For him, it's his annual vacation of sorts. We reach early and laze around. Off to Delhi. After an uneventful flight, we land there on wet tarmac. Surprisingly Delhi was cool due to the rains. We finished our ablutions and wander around the airport. Wide-eyed, we see huge shops offering overtly expensive items. Food too.
I analyze the menu and rates to find something to eat. Healthy, filling and value for money. If we plot a Venn diagram depicting the union of these three sets, rarely is there anything in the common area. I settle for a Subway salad and C opts for a 6" veggie sub. Feeling better, we head towards the departure area and rest. The flight to Dehradun is barely 40 mins. We take a liking to such a journey. Not too long to get boring, time passes easily as there is turbulence, something enthralling and a tad scary for me. As we land the valley is on majestic, grandeur display. We grin at each other knowingly, whats in store.
Picked up our bags and walked out. For about 3 Km till we reach the highway. Ate our first plate of Rajma-rice from a cart. There are share autos plying here (taxis are charging a bomb). These are 3 wheelers bearing the brand name "Vikram" (never seen one down south). Crammed inside like sardines with our luggage on our laps, off we go. 20 bucks to Rishikesh. We had lunch at Free Spirit Cafe (https://www.tripadvisor.in/Restaurant_Review-g580106-d8796171-Reviews-Free_Spirit_cafe-Rishikesh_Dehradun_District_Uttarakhand.html) and rested there for a while. The proprietor, Mr Rana was kind, gentle and well-traveled. I was quite fascinated as he recollected his life experiences both in India and Europe. After food, I had a shave while C took a nap. Afternoon, there was a race briefing by the Race Director Kavitha and we collected our bibs.
Race briefing done, we walk down to Laxman Jhula. It was drizzling and I go to bed early to speed the arrival of a better (hopefully drier) race day. No such luck. It rained heavily all night. I woke up early. Nature calls umpteen times - a good sign. Reached the cafe around 5am. Met our driver for the first time. Mahipal Singh Chauhan- he looked smart with a hat on. Just hanging loose. Milind walks out. I greet him. He asks me where is the ATM. I walk him towards a nearby one and we have the usual chat. Where are you from, what do you do etc etc. Slowly runners trickle out. Meanwhile, C and I load our stuff into the crew vehicle - a Swift Dzire and wait. It hasn't stopped raining since last night. Drizzle, downpour.. the tempo varies but it does not cease. I put on some music and shut my eyes as we drive towards Natraj Chowk - the start point.
It's 6 am. After a brief photo session, we set off at 6.05. Its the highway we traversed the previous day. Well paved, smooth roads with sparse traffic at this hour. This is a serene stretch. Trees on both sides of the road form a beautiful canopy and the black shiny road seems to be washed clean by the rains. It's still wet. I continue sans rain gear hoping conditions would dry out as the sun made its way up. But then, hopes do not always come true as the downpour begins. Anyways, I said my usual hellos to the five other runners and their crew members/pacers. Besides me were Navin Thangiah, Vijay Yargal, Inderpal Khalsa and Milind Soman. I stayed to the back of the pack on purpose. I'm running my own race I kept reminding myself. I spot Suneetha ma'am wearing a bright fluorescent pink tee. "You have brightened my day" I admit as we pass. Such a nice lady.
There are a couple of hair-pin bends as we continue towards Dehradun airport. The rain intensifies and I ask for a jacket and rain pant (mainly to protect my mobile phone). Just before the airport, we deviate off the highway onto village roads. I spot Milind here running barefoot. Uneven roads and puddles all around makes this section technical and I pass him without any words exchanged. For the first and last time.
By now, I am totally drenched and I don't care. Just got to keep the momentum going. I have done this before, I have this covered. I remind myself. I keep moving as planned. After a while, C appears out of nowhere running. He's totally decked up. Rain gear, running shoes et all. First reaction - my arms go out as if to signal 'whaaaat?' I'm bewildered. "Why are u running now?" I asked him. "Its ok" he replied. We ran for a while. Again I wonder... why are you stepping out in this pouring rain? Especially at this stage of the race? "It's ok, bro" he replies again. As if to say - don't worry about me. What is perturbing me is that this was not part of our race plan. Perhaps he does not understand the nature of this race. We are barely 10 % into this race. The ordeal and tough times will hit us much much later. Certainly.
I don't like this as I see him getting all wet and cold. I calmly tell him " See, If you want to run, by all means, do so. Just don't do it in my presence, ok". Clear crew conflict that too in the initial stages. Somehow, he got my message and returned to the vehicle.
I run down a hilly section and reach a bridge. After crossing that, we encounter nature's fury. Water is gushing through across the road. No way any vehicle can pass through here. One goods truck is stuck in that water (for good) and is abandoned there.
We wade through waist-deep flowing water. Tricky sections. The Globeracers team is there to provide a hand, if necessary. Avinash helps us along. The water flow is strong and footing underneath is unsteady because its invisible. I try to navigate this section by choosing the path of least water flow. Somehow, I manage to cross that. I'm joined by Inder at this stage. He's a bit of a chatterbox. Goes rambling on and on, has opinions on everything under the sun - quite knowledgeable too, I must admit. We recollect our conversations at the Bengaluru stadium run earlier. A young gun in his early 20s has a bright future, I think.
We run through the forest sections and I decide to remove my heavy, water-laden shoes. While running barefoot, the foot strikes are circumspect initially. As time passes one gets used to it. " In barefoot running, your pace does not drop. It remains constant all day" claims Inder. This is quite true, I cogitate. Then again, it's about weighing your options. Barefoot vs Shoes is doing a trade-off between steady pacing vs minimizing injury. What if one accidentally step on a shard of glass. I don't want my running career to end abruptly. No no. I lace up as we chug along and pass Maharana Pratap Sports college with its picturesque stadium in the background. Heading toward Raipur, there are signs of civilization and traffic increases. I spot few ice boxes by the road and call C to inquire if they are for sale - I might need ice later on. They keep fish and meat in them, I'm told. No thanks then... I'll pass. The course goes through a narrow one-way road here. Many Government institutions (Ordnance factory, IRDE), huge bungalows and residential quarters are seen. Nice quaint little locality for pensioners, I ponder. I move ahead in the relentless rain. Now the road snakes towards Sahatradhara Chowk (that's quite a mouthful when I ask someone for directions). My crew catches up with me ahead and I request them to stop for a break. Its past noon now and I haven't eaten a thing. C has picked up Aloo Paratha for me and I salivate expecting hot food waiting for me ahead. Mahipal stops at a bus shelter and I remove my rain gear here and eat. Parathas and nut butters are gobbled down with fervour. Jus' Amazin almond butters provide 659Kcal per 100g. Wow! Jus what I needed. Energized after this break, I tend to my feet - Wash them with Dettol and change my shoe, remove rain gear and continue. I know it's gonna be all uphill for a while ahead. I review my race strategy and decide to hike. It's a long hike up towards Mussorie. Got to save my legs for later. Cross the Shiva temple and go upto Jahripani.
My crew seemed to have missed this deviation, luckily I spot Inder and his pacer Nitin and I call C to guide them back on track. Power hiked my way through quiet roads up to Barlowganj - the suburb of Mussoorie. Mussoorie, Oh beautiful Mussoorie. The proverbial queen of hill stations as professed by the British. Took me back to my school days. Ruskin Bond's writings were before my eyes. Reminiscent of colonial times. Names such as - Oak Grove school and Wynberg-Allen residential school among others. How fascinating it would be to grow up in such an environment, I wonder. Away from the cacophony of city life. The much-awaited weekend getaway would be a trip to the bustling 'mall road' which is common to several hill stations. This region presented a 'fairyland' atmosphere. Pristine, nature at its best.
I was climbing steep gradient. At some points, I had to push my knees with my palms - that steep.
I climbed further and further till I reached the highest elevation in this race called Bataghat. My crew was there along with Globeraces who took some short sound bites. The sunset was simply spectacular in the hills. I was leading the race now (by a good margin). There, I was given a package of ON THE RUN energy bars (http://ontherun.in/). Gee, thanks. That was serendipitous.
Feeling good so far, I knew I had a long way to go. Save your quads, save your quads was always the mantra. Okay, so I resumed shortly and told my crew I'll keep going. That was my last sighting of them for the day. Apparently, the driver Mahipal had a few blisters on his feet and needed treatment. And the great Mr C tends to him and misplaces my medical kit there itself! He's done a stellar job so far, so I'll cut him some slack here. As I kept moving towards the next town - Suvakholi, I wave at a kid outside a tea stall. His name was Mohit and I gesture towards him to jog along. Happily, he accompanies me and I chat with him for a while to break the boredom. He's in class ten, I'm surprised. He inquires if I'm on Facebook. On hearing no, he's surprised. He's wearing earrings, so I tease him. It feels welcome to have company sometimes, so we engage in some small-talk. He reaches his home in Suvakholi and I bade him goodbye with parting wisdom - stay active, stay outdoors - you are very fortunate to live in such surroundings.
Its amazing how time (and consequently distances) flies when we have company. In this sport, the going is vastly singular. So when we take the mind off the mundane, it breathes a fresh life into proceedings.
Its slowly turns dark now and I turn on my headlights. I get in maximum mileage during this phase with minimum rest. It is downhill, so the going is steady. I'm running through remote and narrow hilly roads, so the traffic is almost non-existent. I have dry fruits and water with me. It's raining, but I don't care. While I'm listening to a Rich Roll podcast, a couple of hours pass by and I realize that my mobile phone battery is low. I check for the network signal. There is none. I have continued for about 30 km. I glance at my watch. The only option is to keep going. Past Almas, I reach a village called Bhavaan.
If ever I needed a Bhagwaan, it was in Bhavaan.
10 pm. I get a text from the RD stating that I'm going to be disqualified because I'm running without a crew vehicle. Heck, the thought never crossed my mind because I was always confident that the car would catch up. I had asked them to take it easy and now, I couldn't even talk to them.
See, this great China phone of mine (which someone lost and I found) does not allow me to make or receive phone calls when it's battery is dying. The battery's last stick implies only texting is permissible. So I stop running and start texting. Apparently, there was a landslide behind me near Suvakholi, and a truck is stuck in the rubble and the entire road is blocked. So, there's no way my crew car can pass through till the mess is cleared.
The rain is really heavy now and I'm totally drenched. I'm wearing a sleeveless tee and shorts (only). All the while I was running, I did not feel cold but now that I have stopped, I can feel my limbs lock due to frigid conditions. I need shelter desperately. But it's pointless to go further. I see only darkness in the distance. I wander around. Spot an abandoned Tata 407 truck. Please, Oh! Bhagwaan, let the cabin be open so that I may wiggle inside the warm confinement. No luck. I find a little shelter, just about 4X4 feet. Go squat there like one would in an Indian style loo.
It's about 11 pm. Texting continues. I tell the RD that to return to my crew (landslide spot) would take a lot of time. 2 hours of running downhill could take 4 hours uphill (exacerbated due to heavy rain) and to return along the same path could prove disastrous. The RD informs that all runners have reached the spot there (around midnight) and they have changed the course back to Rishikesh. Two of them have quit (Milind and Inder). Helpless, I squat there praying for some human/divine intervention. NO GO. Water has seeped in my watch and it dies. Then, my phone dies. I close my eyes and wish my body follows suit.
Desperation:
I have never shivered so much in my life. Never ever. Yes, sub-zero temperatures have been colder but a drenched body in windy conditions will only make one tremble. My bones were rattling, teeth chattering and my skin felt like my grandma's. I was done. The term Hypothermia crosses my mind. Is this what it is? I banish the thought. I wanted to pee but my body was immobile in this awkward position. I release right where I was squatting. I just wish for a flicker of light in the hills - that might give me hope. But there was none.
Or was there? I squint to ascertain. Freak, I was hallucinating. I spot beams of light in the hills and just as my brain tries to process it, it's gone. It happened many times. Screw all this, I thought. There is only one certainty now. The sun will rise (eventually) and I have to live till that (optimistic thinking). I wish I could sleep through this ordeal. Nopes - it's just endless staring at the hills with rain falling pitter-patter all around me. Sigh! My Karma.
Black skies turns to grey. I'm still alive, albeit dazed, almost semi-conscious. At dawn, the rain subsides to a drizzle. An elderly man spots me shivering and is shocked. He leads me slowly to his little shop and warms some water. "Tu mar jaayega" he keeps repeating. I clutch the glass of hot water in both hands like its antivenom for a snake-bitten man. Aah! I can feel the water warm up my oesophagus and stomach as it trickles down. I'm gonna live. My groggy mind clears up. The sunrise always does this. I sit and chat with the gent for a while. Oh, he's seen quite a bit in his life. When I mentioned that I'm from South India, he recollected his days with the military in Sri Lanka. He was in the war against the LTTE and had several tough encounters himself. In his local twang, I understood what he meant. Don't do what you are doing in this situation ALONE. It's stupid. Tu mar jaayega (you will die).
After a while, two men in an Alto stop by for tea. They confirm the landslide situation stating they were stranded all night. Why did nobody approach them and help? I asked. They explained it to me in layman's terms:
Let's assume there are two villages/towns A and B. And there is a roadblock between A and B. Promptly, word goes across to both A and B and all passing vehicles are blocked right there. So they do not go to the spot and worsen the situation. Aah.. That's why I did not see anyone all night, I realized. I requested for their phone and called my crew and informed them of my position. They arrived shortly and more stories were exchanged. After chatting over tea, I understood that the race was still on. Headed back towards Suvakholi to restart my race and as we approached, another landslide blocked the road!
See, the heavy rains in this region cause falling of rocks, trees and loose rubble from the hillside onto the roads. Its quite common and I witnessed this falling rocks, quite close to me even, when I was running. Just pray that it does not happen at that precise moment when I'm running there. (Final Destination, anyone?) In some cases, entire trees are uprooted and those falling on the roads create a roadblock which was in front of us now. What next?
Nothing crossed my mind. No way I can restart the race now. Let's take a u-turn and catch some breakfast, we all agreed. Reached a little eatery up in the hills. Had parathas, Maggi and rice leisurely. Finished our morning ablutions. We took selfies. Called the RD and informed her of our situation. Told her I'm out of this race. Mark me DQ, DNF.. I don't care. I have come so far maybe I'll go all the way to Uttarkashi - for my own satisfaction atleast. We click pics and just loitered around, aimlessly.
Proceed in a car? Giving up. Is'nt that a sign of failure?
The word Failure stuck in my head. I turned to C and asked him "Am I a failure?" He tried to console me stating its not anybody's fault here. We are in the wrong place, wrong time. No. This ain't gonna happen. I'm gonna give this a shot - my best shot, to see if I can make it to the finish by the cutoff. It was around 10 am now. Told the driver, head back to Suvakholi regardless - I'll restart back to Rishikesh. Informed the RD. "The cutoff time remains the same- 6am so it's touch and go. The extra distance I had run, from the landslide does not count so I would need to do about 20 km after I reach the start point in Rishikesh to complete 135 miles, I was told. Mental calculations go buzz in my head. I do not have a negative bone in my body now. This is the challenge I need. I start off creakily from Suvakholi at around 10.30am. (Navin started back from here at 12 am itself). Let's get this done with. Fierce determination spurs me back. No stopping all the way. I made a mental note to myself. Running 110k with such a mindset is not something I had done before, so essentially, I was wading through uncharted waters.
I cruise past Bataghat. I approach Barlowganj and belt my way down the steeply inclined cobblestone streets. My knees hurt but I don't give a damn. My phone is charged by now and I listen to peppy tracks. The rain has kept away and I'm feeling better. Reach all the way down to the Shiva temple and ask for some food from my crew. Now the instructions are clear. Load my race vest with food, salt tabs and water. I'll take em down as I move - no stopping. Repeat this process every 60- 90 mins. As I reach the plains post noon, its hot and my pace slows down. Traffic intensifies cause its Eid - a public holiday. Music somehow keeps me motivated as I muscle forward. C is giving constant updates of the other two runners. They are miles ahead..waaay ahead. They'll finish shortly I imagine. 'Early to start early to finish' suits them. I'm struggling a bit now with the harsh afternoon sun beating down on me. Towards Raipur, I approach the rapid Song river flowing across a bridge. I have kept my feet dry so far. Can't afford to wet them now. I throw some boulders so that I can place my footing to cross over. So far so good. As I jump across these stepping stones, one of them roll over and my feet go into the water. Screwed now! Socks and shoes wet. The crew car is about 10kms ahead. I remove all footwear and proceed barefoot. The going is slow (and painful). I buy a few bananas and consume them for calories. C reminds me on text: "You need to up the pace". Just the words I need. I'm furious (with myself) when I reach him near the Raipur stadium. I change my shoes and challenge him (and myself) - next stop: 10k within 50 mins. Tell that to tired legs that have run 150kms. My lime yellow Salomon road shoes are put to test. Flat surfaces and athletes from the sports college spur me on. Non-stop running. 10 k is done well in time.
I pass Vijay who seems to be struggling a bit (I later got to know that he was bleeding from his anus) without a jerk in my gait. Urge him to catch up ahead. Now, the water crossings.
I have been precarious with taking care of my feet so far - ensuring they remain dry and clean. But now there are 3 water crossings ahead, I recollect. I wear slippers as I cross them, walk for a while so that my feet dry up and then again wear shoes to run. I know it's time-consuming but my feet will thank me later, I reassure myself. I approach the major water crossing (where the goods truck was abandoned). Thankfully, the water flow has subsided. After crossing that, I walk uphill wearing slippers. I ask Mahipal to play some songs in the following car. He plays old Hindi melodies. Any change is a welcome change. As its dark now, I switch on my headlights and climb all the way till Thano. I make up concrete plans for the remainder. Here is a takeaway:
I had told the driver when I started in the morning that Rishikesh is not the finish point. Be prepared to drive 40 odd km after that. In my mind, I decided that Natraj Chowk is the finish line. (I had seen it earlier and could relate to it). About 10 miles to go. I put on my road running shoes and decide to belt it. Don't give me any race updates - I tell C. He is aware of the reality, but keeps mum. So here, I tackle this road section wisely. I had blinkers behind, headlamp in front. Calorie and water intake was spot on. Put in decent pace at honest effort. Reach the highway and continued through the forest sections. Some cops (forest officers actually) drive by, and I just smiled at them. They spoke something to my following crew. Mentally, I consider the end to be near. Up my pace (almost 10k pace) as I reach Natraj Chowk.
What now? I ask my crew. They have been informed by the RD that I have to run 18 km more. Fair enough - I saw that coming. But, I ought to traverse another new route. Apparently, the forest officers did not permit me to run further back on the highway (since it passes through a forest). I needed to turn left at the junction and head toward Shivpuri. This road is narrow and all up-down, up-down. It gets mentally taxing here. C trots along and does the pacing. Desperately needed that. More soever, I needed someone to talk to, to keep my brain engaged. Kept random conversations with him which we normally do not have. I'm wet and cold. As the showers increase, I advise him to get back in the car. I feel as if I'm lost on a desolate road. Even walking briskly is a task now as I struggle to keep my balance intact. After swaying around, I'm told that I've reached the switchback and I need to return. For about 9kms. Shook myself up and head back. I've done the hard work, I just wish to be in cruise control mode now. Nothing fancy. The garden variety aches and pains take a backseat. Slowly the miles tick away, uneventfully. I almost crave for something dramatic to happen at this stage but there is nothing of that sort. The last mile or so is a sprint. This has become my modus operandi - Finishing strong. I charge past the finish point at Natraj Chowk. No finish line, no onlookers. Just a notion in my head that its over. The adrenaline is pumping, so I yell, curse and let out some steam. It's past midnight. I can't believe it. 135 miles- DONE.
Epilogue: The race winner Navin had finished about half an hour prior and gone to bed. Vijay arrived in the jeep and gave me a bear hug. "I could never have done what you did" (the ending section), he claimed. So humble, ever-smiling this dude is. Shubam - the race volunteer congratulates me. C and I are gleaming, we nod knowingly. What an experience. I wander and thank every person around. Even though this was a solitary pursuit, it would not have been possible without the support of others. Thanks to all members of Globeracers for putting up such an amazing race. Again, the dynamic conditions in the mountains dictated them to change race plans. I guess, one has to expect the unexpected. A big shout-out to Chaitanya. I always stand by this - I do the easy part: just running. The CREW (Cranky Runner, Endless Waiting, as I read somewhere) has to endure much much more. Thanks for putting up with me. Your support was invaluable. Glad that we had a good time. Many thanks.
Uttarakhand. Also referred to as Devbhumi or "Land of the Gods". So what business does this atheist - yours truly - have here? Well, if Gods reside here, there must be something special, something exquisite. It gnawed at me. I had to find out.
Shashi drops us at the airport. Chaitanya (My buddy/crew member/pacer who I'll refer to as C) and I have been eagerly looking forward to this. For him, it's his annual vacation of sorts. We reach early and laze around. Off to Delhi. After an uneventful flight, we land there on wet tarmac. Surprisingly Delhi was cool due to the rains. We finished our ablutions and wander around the airport. Wide-eyed, we see huge shops offering overtly expensive items. Food too.
I analyze the menu and rates to find something to eat. Healthy, filling and value for money. If we plot a Venn diagram depicting the union of these three sets, rarely is there anything in the common area. I settle for a Subway salad and C opts for a 6" veggie sub. Feeling better, we head towards the departure area and rest. The flight to Dehradun is barely 40 mins. We take a liking to such a journey. Not too long to get boring, time passes easily as there is turbulence, something enthralling and a tad scary for me. As we land the valley is on majestic, grandeur display. We grin at each other knowingly, whats in store.
Picked up our bags and walked out. For about 3 Km till we reach the highway. Ate our first plate of Rajma-rice from a cart. There are share autos plying here (taxis are charging a bomb). These are 3 wheelers bearing the brand name "Vikram" (never seen one down south). Crammed inside like sardines with our luggage on our laps, off we go. 20 bucks to Rishikesh. We had lunch at Free Spirit Cafe (https://www.tripadvisor.in/Restaurant_Review-g580106-d8796171-Reviews-Free_Spirit_cafe-Rishikesh_Dehradun_District_Uttarakhand.html) and rested there for a while. The proprietor, Mr Rana was kind, gentle and well-traveled. I was quite fascinated as he recollected his life experiences both in India and Europe. After food, I had a shave while C took a nap. Afternoon, there was a race briefing by the Race Director Kavitha and we collected our bibs.
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| After the bib collection |
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| Us at Laxman Jhula, Rishikesh |
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| At the start point |
It's 6 am. After a brief photo session, we set off at 6.05. Its the highway we traversed the previous day. Well paved, smooth roads with sparse traffic at this hour. This is a serene stretch. Trees on both sides of the road form a beautiful canopy and the black shiny road seems to be washed clean by the rains. It's still wet. I continue sans rain gear hoping conditions would dry out as the sun made its way up. But then, hopes do not always come true as the downpour begins. Anyways, I said my usual hellos to the five other runners and their crew members/pacers. Besides me were Navin Thangiah, Vijay Yargal, Inderpal Khalsa and Milind Soman. I stayed to the back of the pack on purpose. I'm running my own race I kept reminding myself. I spot Suneetha ma'am wearing a bright fluorescent pink tee. "You have brightened my day" I admit as we pass. Such a nice lady.
By now, I am totally drenched and I don't care. Just got to keep the momentum going. I have done this before, I have this covered. I remind myself. I keep moving as planned. After a while, C appears out of nowhere running. He's totally decked up. Rain gear, running shoes et all. First reaction - my arms go out as if to signal 'whaaaat?' I'm bewildered. "Why are u running now?" I asked him. "Its ok" he replied. We ran for a while. Again I wonder... why are you stepping out in this pouring rain? Especially at this stage of the race? "It's ok, bro" he replies again. As if to say - don't worry about me. What is perturbing me is that this was not part of our race plan. Perhaps he does not understand the nature of this race. We are barely 10 % into this race. The ordeal and tough times will hit us much much later. Certainly.
I don't like this as I see him getting all wet and cold. I calmly tell him " See, If you want to run, by all means, do so. Just don't do it in my presence, ok". Clear crew conflict that too in the initial stages. Somehow, he got my message and returned to the vehicle.
I run down a hilly section and reach a bridge. After crossing that, we encounter nature's fury. Water is gushing through across the road. No way any vehicle can pass through here. One goods truck is stuck in that water (for good) and is abandoned there.
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| Wading through waters |
We wade through waist-deep flowing water. Tricky sections. The Globeracers team is there to provide a hand, if necessary. Avinash helps us along. The water flow is strong and footing underneath is unsteady because its invisible. I try to navigate this section by choosing the path of least water flow. Somehow, I manage to cross that. I'm joined by Inder at this stage. He's a bit of a chatterbox. Goes rambling on and on, has opinions on everything under the sun - quite knowledgeable too, I must admit. We recollect our conversations at the Bengaluru stadium run earlier. A young gun in his early 20s has a bright future, I think.
With Inder paaji
V for Victory
My crew seemed to have missed this deviation, luckily I spot Inder and his pacer Nitin and I call C to guide them back on track. Power hiked my way through quiet roads up to Barlowganj - the suburb of Mussoorie. Mussoorie, Oh beautiful Mussoorie. The proverbial queen of hill stations as professed by the British. Took me back to my school days. Ruskin Bond's writings were before my eyes. Reminiscent of colonial times. Names such as - Oak Grove school and Wynberg-Allen residential school among others. How fascinating it would be to grow up in such an environment, I wonder. Away from the cacophony of city life. The much-awaited weekend getaway would be a trip to the bustling 'mall road' which is common to several hill stations. This region presented a 'fairyland' atmosphere. Pristine, nature at its best.
I was climbing steep gradient. At some points, I had to push my knees with my palms - that steep.
I climbed further and further till I reached the highest elevation in this race called Bataghat. My crew was there along with Globeraces who took some short sound bites. The sunset was simply spectacular in the hills. I was leading the race now (by a good margin). There, I was given a package of ON THE RUN energy bars (http://ontherun.in/). Gee, thanks. That was serendipitous.
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| Avinash handing me On The Run energy bars |
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| Majestic views of the valley |
Its slowly turns dark now and I turn on my headlights. I get in maximum mileage during this phase with minimum rest. It is downhill, so the going is steady. I'm running through remote and narrow hilly roads, so the traffic is almost non-existent. I have dry fruits and water with me. It's raining, but I don't care. While I'm listening to a Rich Roll podcast, a couple of hours pass by and I realize that my mobile phone battery is low. I check for the network signal. There is none. I have continued for about 30 km. I glance at my watch. The only option is to keep going. Past Almas, I reach a village called Bhavaan.
If ever I needed a Bhagwaan, it was in Bhavaan.
10 pm. I get a text from the RD stating that I'm going to be disqualified because I'm running without a crew vehicle. Heck, the thought never crossed my mind because I was always confident that the car would catch up. I had asked them to take it easy and now, I couldn't even talk to them.
See, this great China phone of mine (which someone lost and I found) does not allow me to make or receive phone calls when it's battery is dying. The battery's last stick implies only texting is permissible. So I stop running and start texting. Apparently, there was a landslide behind me near Suvakholi, and a truck is stuck in the rubble and the entire road is blocked. So, there's no way my crew car can pass through till the mess is cleared.
The rain is really heavy now and I'm totally drenched. I'm wearing a sleeveless tee and shorts (only). All the while I was running, I did not feel cold but now that I have stopped, I can feel my limbs lock due to frigid conditions. I need shelter desperately. But it's pointless to go further. I see only darkness in the distance. I wander around. Spot an abandoned Tata 407 truck. Please, Oh! Bhagwaan, let the cabin be open so that I may wiggle inside the warm confinement. No luck. I find a little shelter, just about 4X4 feet. Go squat there like one would in an Indian style loo.
It's about 11 pm. Texting continues. I tell the RD that to return to my crew (landslide spot) would take a lot of time. 2 hours of running downhill could take 4 hours uphill (exacerbated due to heavy rain) and to return along the same path could prove disastrous. The RD informs that all runners have reached the spot there (around midnight) and they have changed the course back to Rishikesh. Two of them have quit (Milind and Inder). Helpless, I squat there praying for some human/divine intervention. NO GO. Water has seeped in my watch and it dies. Then, my phone dies. I close my eyes and wish my body follows suit.
Desperation:
I have never shivered so much in my life. Never ever. Yes, sub-zero temperatures have been colder but a drenched body in windy conditions will only make one tremble. My bones were rattling, teeth chattering and my skin felt like my grandma's. I was done. The term Hypothermia crosses my mind. Is this what it is? I banish the thought. I wanted to pee but my body was immobile in this awkward position. I release right where I was squatting. I just wish for a flicker of light in the hills - that might give me hope. But there was none.
Or was there? I squint to ascertain. Freak, I was hallucinating. I spot beams of light in the hills and just as my brain tries to process it, it's gone. It happened many times. Screw all this, I thought. There is only one certainty now. The sun will rise (eventually) and I have to live till that (optimistic thinking). I wish I could sleep through this ordeal. Nopes - it's just endless staring at the hills with rain falling pitter-patter all around me. Sigh! My Karma.
Black skies turns to grey. I'm still alive, albeit dazed, almost semi-conscious. At dawn, the rain subsides to a drizzle. An elderly man spots me shivering and is shocked. He leads me slowly to his little shop and warms some water. "Tu mar jaayega" he keeps repeating. I clutch the glass of hot water in both hands like its antivenom for a snake-bitten man. Aah! I can feel the water warm up my oesophagus and stomach as it trickles down. I'm gonna live. My groggy mind clears up. The sunrise always does this. I sit and chat with the gent for a while. Oh, he's seen quite a bit in his life. When I mentioned that I'm from South India, he recollected his days with the military in Sri Lanka. He was in the war against the LTTE and had several tough encounters himself. In his local twang, I understood what he meant. Don't do what you are doing in this situation ALONE. It's stupid. Tu mar jaayega (you will die).
After a while, two men in an Alto stop by for tea. They confirm the landslide situation stating they were stranded all night. Why did nobody approach them and help? I asked. They explained it to me in layman's terms:
Let's assume there are two villages/towns A and B. And there is a roadblock between A and B. Promptly, word goes across to both A and B and all passing vehicles are blocked right there. So they do not go to the spot and worsen the situation. Aah.. That's why I did not see anyone all night, I realized. I requested for their phone and called my crew and informed them of my position. They arrived shortly and more stories were exchanged. After chatting over tea, I understood that the race was still on. Headed back towards Suvakholi to restart my race and as we approached, another landslide blocked the road!
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| Commonplace in the hills |
See, the heavy rains in this region cause falling of rocks, trees and loose rubble from the hillside onto the roads. Its quite common and I witnessed this falling rocks, quite close to me even, when I was running. Just pray that it does not happen at that precise moment when I'm running there. (Final Destination, anyone?) In some cases, entire trees are uprooted and those falling on the roads create a roadblock which was in front of us now. What next?
Nothing crossed my mind. No way I can restart the race now. Let's take a u-turn and catch some breakfast, we all agreed. Reached a little eatery up in the hills. Had parathas, Maggi and rice leisurely. Finished our morning ablutions. We took selfies. Called the RD and informed her of our situation. Told her I'm out of this race. Mark me DQ, DNF.. I don't care. I have come so far maybe I'll go all the way to Uttarkashi - for my own satisfaction atleast. We click pics and just loitered around, aimlessly.
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| Me, Mahipal jee and C |
Proceed in a car? Giving up. Is'nt that a sign of failure?
The word Failure stuck in my head. I turned to C and asked him "Am I a failure?" He tried to console me stating its not anybody's fault here. We are in the wrong place, wrong time. No. This ain't gonna happen. I'm gonna give this a shot - my best shot, to see if I can make it to the finish by the cutoff. It was around 10 am now. Told the driver, head back to Suvakholi regardless - I'll restart back to Rishikesh. Informed the RD. "The cutoff time remains the same- 6am so it's touch and go. The extra distance I had run, from the landslide does not count so I would need to do about 20 km after I reach the start point in Rishikesh to complete 135 miles, I was told. Mental calculations go buzz in my head. I do not have a negative bone in my body now. This is the challenge I need. I start off creakily from Suvakholi at around 10.30am. (Navin started back from here at 12 am itself). Let's get this done with. Fierce determination spurs me back. No stopping all the way. I made a mental note to myself. Running 110k with such a mindset is not something I had done before, so essentially, I was wading through uncharted waters.
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| About 10 hours behind others |
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| When you gotto go, you gotto go |
I cruise past Bataghat. I approach Barlowganj and belt my way down the steeply inclined cobblestone streets. My knees hurt but I don't give a damn. My phone is charged by now and I listen to peppy tracks. The rain has kept away and I'm feeling better. Reach all the way down to the Shiva temple and ask for some food from my crew. Now the instructions are clear. Load my race vest with food, salt tabs and water. I'll take em down as I move - no stopping. Repeat this process every 60- 90 mins. As I reach the plains post noon, its hot and my pace slows down. Traffic intensifies cause its Eid - a public holiday. Music somehow keeps me motivated as I muscle forward. C is giving constant updates of the other two runners. They are miles ahead..waaay ahead. They'll finish shortly I imagine. 'Early to start early to finish' suits them. I'm struggling a bit now with the harsh afternoon sun beating down on me. Towards Raipur, I approach the rapid Song river flowing across a bridge. I have kept my feet dry so far. Can't afford to wet them now. I throw some boulders so that I can place my footing to cross over. So far so good. As I jump across these stepping stones, one of them roll over and my feet go into the water. Screwed now! Socks and shoes wet. The crew car is about 10kms ahead. I remove all footwear and proceed barefoot. The going is slow (and painful). I buy a few bananas and consume them for calories. C reminds me on text: "You need to up the pace". Just the words I need. I'm furious (with myself) when I reach him near the Raipur stadium. I change my shoes and challenge him (and myself) - next stop: 10k within 50 mins. Tell that to tired legs that have run 150kms. My lime yellow Salomon road shoes are put to test. Flat surfaces and athletes from the sports college spur me on. Non-stop running. 10 k is done well in time.
I pass Vijay who seems to be struggling a bit (I later got to know that he was bleeding from his anus) without a jerk in my gait. Urge him to catch up ahead. Now, the water crossings.
I have been precarious with taking care of my feet so far - ensuring they remain dry and clean. But now there are 3 water crossings ahead, I recollect. I wear slippers as I cross them, walk for a while so that my feet dry up and then again wear shoes to run. I know it's time-consuming but my feet will thank me later, I reassure myself. I approach the major water crossing (where the goods truck was abandoned). Thankfully, the water flow has subsided. After crossing that, I walk uphill wearing slippers. I ask Mahipal to play some songs in the following car. He plays old Hindi melodies. Any change is a welcome change. As its dark now, I switch on my headlights and climb all the way till Thano. I make up concrete plans for the remainder. Here is a takeaway:
I had told the driver when I started in the morning that Rishikesh is not the finish point. Be prepared to drive 40 odd km after that. In my mind, I decided that Natraj Chowk is the finish line. (I had seen it earlier and could relate to it). About 10 miles to go. I put on my road running shoes and decide to belt it. Don't give me any race updates - I tell C. He is aware of the reality, but keeps mum. So here, I tackle this road section wisely. I had blinkers behind, headlamp in front. Calorie and water intake was spot on. Put in decent pace at honest effort. Reach the highway and continued through the forest sections. Some cops (forest officers actually) drive by, and I just smiled at them. They spoke something to my following crew. Mentally, I consider the end to be near. Up my pace (almost 10k pace) as I reach Natraj Chowk.
What now? I ask my crew. They have been informed by the RD that I have to run 18 km more. Fair enough - I saw that coming. But, I ought to traverse another new route. Apparently, the forest officers did not permit me to run further back on the highway (since it passes through a forest). I needed to turn left at the junction and head toward Shivpuri. This road is narrow and all up-down, up-down. It gets mentally taxing here. C trots along and does the pacing. Desperately needed that. More soever, I needed someone to talk to, to keep my brain engaged. Kept random conversations with him which we normally do not have. I'm wet and cold. As the showers increase, I advise him to get back in the car. I feel as if I'm lost on a desolate road. Even walking briskly is a task now as I struggle to keep my balance intact. After swaying around, I'm told that I've reached the switchback and I need to return. For about 9kms. Shook myself up and head back. I've done the hard work, I just wish to be in cruise control mode now. Nothing fancy. The garden variety aches and pains take a backseat. Slowly the miles tick away, uneventfully. I almost crave for something dramatic to happen at this stage but there is nothing of that sort. The last mile or so is a sprint. This has become my modus operandi - Finishing strong. I charge past the finish point at Natraj Chowk. No finish line, no onlookers. Just a notion in my head that its over. The adrenaline is pumping, so I yell, curse and let out some steam. It's past midnight. I can't believe it. 135 miles- DONE.
Finishing in a blur
Epilogue: The race winner Navin had finished about half an hour prior and gone to bed. Vijay arrived in the jeep and gave me a bear hug. "I could never have done what you did" (the ending section), he claimed. So humble, ever-smiling this dude is. Shubam - the race volunteer congratulates me. C and I are gleaming, we nod knowingly. What an experience. I wander and thank every person around. Even though this was a solitary pursuit, it would not have been possible without the support of others. Thanks to all members of Globeracers for putting up such an amazing race. Again, the dynamic conditions in the mountains dictated them to change race plans. I guess, one has to expect the unexpected. A big shout-out to Chaitanya. I always stand by this - I do the easy part: just running. The CREW (Cranky Runner, Endless Waiting, as I read somewhere) has to endure much much more. Thanks for putting up with me. Your support was invaluable. Glad that we had a good time. Many thanks.
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| Post race ceremony |
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| Thank you Gods! I survived. |
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| Panaroma |
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