The mobile phone

No racing, no race reports for a while. The writing habit took a back seat and is now clearly rusty. The procrastination ensued, thanks to the only tool at my disposal, or lack thereof. The mobile phone. I know, I know. A bad worker blames his tools. So, here's some yakking quite unrelated to running.

It just so happened that I moved back to the mountains when the pandemic struck. Away from civilization, distancing myself from meaningless stimuli such as news and rumors thanks to unprecedented happenings. Mainly to focus on my training and improve holistically. The phone would be lying in some corner, gathering dust, untouched. Disturbed only to turn off the alarm or speak to family on that occasional call. It's not that my brain was not absorbing inputs. I saw the most picturesque sunrises, was in life-threatening situations, learnt utility skills using my hands etc. etc. One major difference being my visual faculties did not veer towards the phone ever so often. Not my old black and white Nokia. That served me well like an obedient dog. Still does, primarily.

So henceforth, by phones, I'm referring to internet-enabled smartphones.

On introspection, some noteworthy observations are etched in my mind.

Phones seemingly take away our private time and our ability to be self-sufficient, promoting a need, rather infantile kind of dependence on the chattering of others. They also drain us of our strength to make a definite decision, to commit to anything pucca. The domination of this technology is one that keeps us childlike in many subtle ways. I want it, I want it, I waa..

Today we carry a super computer in our pockets. Agreed, the pros are omnipresent. That's a discussion for another day. But as humans, rarely do we have meaningful conversations. Ones bearing intellectual debth. Insightful, thought-provoking, philosophical give and take? A connection under the stars, by the bonfire - raw, agenda-less, heart to heart. Where have those times gone?

Now, to connect at that strata, rarely do we sense the need to put in efforts. Why? Just pick up the phone and move your thumb na?

A welcome change is that this distraction is no longer my master. I do it the old way, and make an arrangement to meet someone at a certain place, say, at 7 o’clock, and have done with it. Once you’ve agreed to meet, just go be there. It’s ain't hard. 

Wru? Oh, traffic is terrible. Inclement weather. Send your location. Make it live location. Ugh, Just SHOW UP!

Bluffing - it's so easy to pull off. Since distance is always maintained, there is an invisible, often subconscious safety assurance holding this device in front of our eyes or to the ears. Oh, anything can be said. Tonality can be easily manipulated. So different from look-into-my-eyes talk. I'm not going to be confronted anyways. For the time being, that's guaranteed.

Coming to roumors, a lot of false information is in your face and innocuously spread. Do we bother to fact check anything? Is it peer reviewed? Is it a random study? What's the sample size? Sources? Citations please.

Oh no, just pass it on. Or click 👍. None the wiser. I'm doing my bit. Consequently, Poof! Our brain gets it's dopamine/serotonin hit.

This culture of narcissism is much prevalent and considered normal even. The proverbial chest thumping. Whether anyone is listening or not. A linchpin of social media.

Its flaws are very visible to me. I don’t see it as my lifeline. It is a conduit for communication. Perhaps a supplement. Obviously not a substitute.

On the subway, in the street and cinema, at the table, in the bathroom, in bed and even in places of worship.. phones appear everywhere. And everyone has it – today you would seem crazy not to have it – few dare to admit it: the mobile phone is a real curse. Easily accepted and little debated.

Above all, I always reminisce how people lived before this technology unfurled. Knowing what it was like: they knew every nuance of boredom, the ability to deal with themselves, to be creative in the thoughts or just to get stuck with the interest on a passerby. Name/place/animal/thing. Wait, wasn't that a game of yesteryear?

Ps: I'm dating myself in internet technology years. Aah, those days were good.

Smartphone, the distractor of the twenty first century (by the way, auto-correct insists on changing “distractor” into “destroyer”). Distractor from any life (no matter how boring or unpleasant it may be) that is happening at that specific moment. Whether it’s the daily commute, on the metro, or a moment of solitude in the elements. Not that in the past (and still today fortunately) there were no newspapers or books or walkmans to fulfill this task, but we can perfectly see how “sense-dulling” phones are, compared to music or books. With music we keep looking at each other, with books you can still communicate in an indirect way. However the obstinacy with which the nose is now pointed downwards, on a small screen, is a bit bleak.

The point is that cellphones are able to “soothe” a wound immediately – time to distraction! It’s a wound that all human beings more or less feel, for the simple fact of being, each one, unique in the world. That is actual solitude. And it is when you must compulsively chat with someone, and someone will always answer you – because in the end it doesn’t matter who answers you, as long as someone does it - known or unknown. That is already sufficient to feel immediately relieved. Remember dopamine/serotonin?

But if paradoxically we never see these “others”, always preferring to call or text them, we would never register any of their reactions to what we say. We would never know what it means to insult someone, for example. Or show devotion. It had to be a means of communication, instead it is a means of distraction with respect to what we are experiencing directly, which provides a series of other subtle changes that have an effect on our reality – phones make us latecomers, make us forget the roads and weakens our orientation. We don’t even need to remember numbers or notions, there is so much on Wikipedia. Out of phase, forgetful, lost? All the while phones become smarter..

Owning a bat does not necessarily make one a good batsman, like wise having a smartphone.. you catch my drift.

Earlier, a lot of efforts were required to being a do-er. 

Now, being a say-er is enough. Rant away blah blah. There are always new bakras (akin the readership of our leading tabloid). That's what phones have made us. The phone is getting smarter, seldom the human. Artificial intelligence anyone?

Not to forget the read receipt concept i.e. the feedback on whether someone has opened the message or not. That was not possible in snail mail. We relied on hope.

It's all about choices in actions, put simply. These occasional disturbances are far outweighed by the fact I’m left unmolested, able to think, and to be quiet, if I feel like it, finally the master of my own mental landscape again.

I can't quote verbatim but I've heard these profundities and they ring a bell. Thanks A.G. Bell(Pardon the puns). 

Be quiet, unless what you have to say is better than silence.

Even better. Shut your mouth and let people wonder if you are a fool or open it and remove all doubts.

Ten thousand meters. करो या मरो

"करो या मरो"

This quote by Gandhi got me thinking. 

करके आप मर सकते हैं लेकिन मर के क्या करोगे🤔.

It began at midnight. Indian independence day. There was rain in the air. It's always raining here. My tap 2 tap odyssey would start any moment. 3 minutes late. I need my GPS device to catch good signal strength. It goes green and beep and off I go.

Prelude:
The hardrock means so much to me. Considered to be one of the most picturesque runs in the world. After countless YouTube videos and online resources, it's etched in my CPU. Entries are reserved for a select few. 2020 - The year of the pandemic. So, with this year's edition cancelled, they come out with a 100 mile virtual race. If you can't go to Silverton, bring the Hardrock experience home.
Hmm, interesting.
100 miles+10000m elevation gain. A similar analogy would be scoring a century and taking 5 wickets in the same cricket match. I have a simple policy in life (not the take-it-easy policy). "I can do it. Therefore I will do it." The "do" is important. How? I aimed to find out.
My ideal pre-race day would involve sleeping at least 12 hours. Not this time though. Had to go buy chocolates and Parle G biscuits ( yes vegans, I understand that there are traces of milk solids. These cost less than a dollar for a kilo - so, staple food for a mountain pauper it is). Then I was waiting for the online registration to happen at the nth moment. Worsening things were the wet socks. I had not a single pair dry. Such is my plight in the mountains.

00.03 am.  Tap 1 - 9143ft above sea level. Perhaps, the highest point in this valley where there is a a tap with flowing water. I set off without much thought. It's gonna be a long day, I imagined. Headlight on, pitter-patter rain all around, I start off conservatively. Water is flowing and the terrain is slippery. The initial few hours pass by with me trying to get into a nice, steady rhythm. Most of it on steps and a bit on trail. Tried to stick to my Hell ultra strategy. Less than 15 minutes per mile i.e. 4 miles per hour. I was happy with my progress. Slowly, darkness gave way to grey skies. I hear tweets (not of the online kind). The rain subsided around 08:00 a.m. and I shed some bodyweight (you know from where).

I craved for hot food. I had to make do with last evening's roti and Parle G (453k calories per 100g)
No stopping. Just reach the top. Downwards, my heart rate stabilizes but the quads are getting trashed with the hard impact. Podcasts can be a welcome respite from the monotony and I tuned into some of my favourites - The Rich Roll podcast, The Joe Rogan's experience and also played the occasional 108x Gayatri mantra on loop. Thats one of my coping mechanisms.
12 hours into the run, I hadn't reached even 6000m of climbing. Tired, I used poles to balance my efforts on the body.  Tourists were trickling in.
15th August is Indian Independence Day. It is also the sawan (monsoon) month so it is an auspicious day in the Hindu calendar. People flock to holy places such as the place I live.(Solang)
The frequent hello, namaste, where are you from? Why are you running? It makes me stop because it's not in my nature to be rude. It irritates me though, much to my chagrin. I'm losing time. Not to mention, those quizzical looks I got all along - this dude in shorts is drenched yet running up and down in the cold rain.
The third half of the run was plagued with self-doubt. I felt like an automobile. The core of my body being the engine and my legs being the wheels. By then I was totally sapped of energy. I could feel the power (apparent lack thereof) to my legs. Why should I continue, I wondered. Dispelling these negative thoughts, I started planning ahead. With the weather deteriorating, I decided to head to lower altitudes. My mind is a terrible mess.
On the way, I met my good friend Nupur Singh. She offered me a vegan laddu (very tasty) and the much-awaited Unived gel. Ever so kind and supportive, a champion runner herself, I am greatful to her. (So that makes this a supported attempt. With so much talk about FKTs this year, it's is on every competitive runner's mind. Ha ha!). My canine companion, Goldie the mongrel trots along as I head down the road with renewed gusto.

It's dusk and I picked up the pace as I climb above Vashist. I decide to do the "temple run". A circuit of the three popular temples in this region. Vashist, Hadimba and Manu temple. I could use some divine assistance now, I thought, bowing to the almighty.
I still had to do about 2000m of climbing. Stray dogs barked at me. A cop on night duty warned me sternly to go home. In the darkness, the pace was excruciatingly slow. Blisters inside were deteriorating. I ran out of calories.I chucked my plan of running all downhill and instead decided to return home. Up all night, Not a light in sight (pardon the alliteration/rhyme) 
The sleep-deprived zombiness (is there such a word?) wasn't as commonplace as before. Hell ultra (https://www.thehellrace.com/hell-ultra/), Tor des geants etc. fall under a different league. 'vera level' : as they say in South India.
The last hour was all out sprinting. At least by my standards. Frequently grunting and heavy breathing, I gave it all I got. Like that annoying gym show-off. The gel did its job. The tank was empty. The watch showed 100 miles. Done. Collapsed and kissed a rock.
This Hardrock was not so hard, after all.

Epilogue:
A virtual challenge of these sorts has a raw purity to them. You are alone, you know the stats, you get it done. Many thanks to Veronica and everyone in the Asia Trail Girls club ( https://www.asiatrailgirls.com). This concept of the vertical challenge is amazing. A big shout out to Vishwas Bhai who is always helpful. Also, the good folks at pwrlab ( https://pwrlab.com/leaderboards/2020-hardrock100/) and members of the Hardrock hundred community who have been showering kind words.
The body may be hurting, but the mind is already on my next challenge.
To wrap things up, let me steal something off the internet.

Check out my activity on:

Strava

Solang Sky Ultra 2019

A feather in the cap

How much does a cap mean to you? After all it just provides respite from the elements doesn't it? Rain, wind, snow or sun.. just put a cap on!
I think caps have different connotations to different sportsmen. For them, the significance of the cap is far more than that of mere headwear, of course.
- An Indian cap has to be earned, resonates Sunil Gavaskar in his book sunny days when his uncle Madhav Mantri denied him one for free.
- The baggy green garners special respect from Australian cricketers, often spanning an entire career à la Steve Waugh and Ricky Ponting amongst others.

When a senior hands it to a junior, it’s special. To receive is to feel blessed. And it becomes the most prized possession.
This is how it panned out. Meet the local legend - my hero in Himachal, Olympian, ski coach and champion paraglider, 40 plus year old, father of two - Hira Lal. Now, he challenged me at the 100k distance. How can I back out? He promised me a Swiss cap if I won the race "Vishwas bhai, keep a bib ready for me tomorrow", I proclaimed. I had some racing to do. Against serious competitors.

Prelude: I had just returned to Himachal after my "so-so" performance at the Tor des Geants, Italy. I'm wary of putting it online. I don't like to sound like a whiner but the fact of the matter is that I was stopped by the medics (against my wishes) for close to 15 hours to stabilize my chest congestion. I had coughed and spat out some blood, no big deal. I was shy of my A-goal: a sub-100hr finish. Big deal.
I was not 100%. Recovery takes months, I was told. My intention here was to volunteer and work with the Hell race team to make Solang sky ultra a success. Long slow hikes every day for a week became the norm as we diligently marked the course. Dirty, wet clothes and shoes. Beat-up body. No taper. No carb-loading. Zero race nutrition planned. Should I still race? I asked myself. Hell yes! I want that Swiss cap, I wrapped my head around it, hoping it would be the other way round, post-race.

Race day: I wake up early after restless sleep. Cooked a Maggie and ate a few biscuits. Dumped all apparel and shoes (read smelly) I had into my TOR duffel bag and set off from my village. Sat at the start venue and took over the bib distribution duties. It's nice when you meet every runner (your competitors) pre-race as I got sense of their mindset. Some race hard to podium, some are in for the experience, some enjoy camaraderie and companionship. Others just want to finish within cut-offs. Sadly, there will also be characters who seem untrained, pessimistic and complainers in general. Often, post-race, they seek the comforts of being a keyboard warrior and rant away online. Such is today's age, anonymous people take sides and a debate catches fire - without knowing on-ground facts. As I dip my toes into this strange internet era, driven by likes, click-bait and "Oh, look-at-me" lives, I wonder what do they get out of it. For now, I'll be an innocuous bystander and chuckle away.
Coming back to race day, I was starving. My stomach felt queasy. Minutes left for the start at noon, I left the desk and changed. Reached the start line. A quick word to Hira Lal - "let's run our own race". He nodded. Some faces looked at me surprised "Are you running too?" To which I replied "Just fancied a long hike in the mountains"
At noon, race director - Vishwas Bhai flagged us off. Without much fanfare it was 3,2,1 go!
No matter how much I coax myself, I can't easy-pace myself at the back-of-the-pack. A short burst, and I take the lead. A local runner who registered at the nth moment, tried to catch up. I keep the pace up and could hear him breathing hard. Off we climb, towards the Shiv Ling at Anjani Mahadev. Nupur and Devaiah were there cheering us on. So nice. After a U-turn at the top, I could gauge the field behind me - still climbing. Jai Govind, the professional athlete, was my only immediate concern. He had acclimatized in Solang and was putting in good speed work in the valley. So, I kept a fastish pace till my throat was parched before the Kothi climb. Filled my bottles with flowing water and took out my poles. Time for a hike. On reaching Kothi, the ever-smiling Bharat was there at the hydration point. Not now, I chuckled, posed for a pic and started to climb. Earphones on, peppy music blaring, I feel good as I sing (read yell) along. I look down and Jai Govind smiles at me.

 A good hour later, I reach the meadow, Sagadugh (dugh in local parlance is a flattish land). Some volunteers had hiked up there with water, chocolates, bananas etc. The Nepali guy notes my bib number and time. My stomach gurgled, so I grabbed bananas and set down. Through my village (simply called Gaon) I speed by as I had done umpteen times before. Uneasiness continued. Before the wooden Beas bridge, I told Jai Govind to go ahead. I needed to 'download' and deviated to Hotel Iceland for some calories too. The extra km or so shouldn't matter, I thought. Few minutes later I was back on the trail, in 3rd position, I was told. As we hit the road, it was all uphill, albeit gradual. I monitored my pace, so it was decent going. At the Dhundhi bridge, I spotted Roshan Bhai and volunteers providing refreshments off the jeep. I kept moving, knowing there’s a climb ahead. A light drizzle turned into rainfall so, jacket and gloves on. A beautiful section. Huge buffaloes lazed around grasslands. Snow clad mountains all around. Splendid flora along streams flowing white as milk. Towards Beas kund (source of river Beas). Am I in Switzerland? I wondered in disbelief. Peering into the distance, I could spot two runners. Aha! I've covered the gap, I realized. My mood was good despite grey skies. So much thought has gone into this race, I wondered. '200 m to go' was painted on a boulder. With a devil grinning like 😈. I knew it. It's not 200m further, it's 200m of climb left! Reached Bakkartach camp and hurried. Just had warm water. The volunteers wanted to note my bib number so I took out my Naked® running belt from beneath my jacket and showed it to them. In my hurry, I don't know if I took it back or dropped it along the way. A few miles later I realized I was running without a bib. No worries, I thought and headed down towards the road. Took in some calories for a fast downhill section. During the descent, I caught up to Jai Govind and the local dude. They had stopped to pee. Just a hi, and I took the lead. Jai Govind was close, but not really keeping my pace. Then his buddy (or self-proclaimed mentor) Adi, tags along asking how he is, what he needs etc. What the duck! "Pacer huh? Shabaash" Clap clap, I sneered sarcastically. As I reached the drop bag at km 37 (Hotel Iceland), I stopped and let him go ahead. Let him have his few seconds of glory, I thought. All cheered as we entered. Vishwas Bhai offered me a spare bib. Methodically, I changed shoes, socks and gobbled some dry fruits. I must convey many thanks to Devaiah and Sumit besides others, who I forget. "It's time to take the lead now", I announced as I left. I don't know why I make such brash statements but it happens in the spur of the moment. And it certainly spurred me on.

Another climb up Anjani Mahadev and it's dark. I turn on my headlights and descend. Saw Jai Govind as he had started too. Now the descent was towards Buruwa village. Across streams, I gingerly tiptoed over rocks. Shucks, I wore the wrong shoes, I realized. The sole was flapping below. They had seen better days and were in its final stages. Jai Govind was nowhere behind. Kept a steady pace across road sections and went past Nehru Kund and Bahang. Pratyush and team were there in the Isuzu with refreshments. It had rained and the roads were wet. I told them not to worry about me, just inform the others behind to stay on the right route. The climb to Jogini waterfall was steady. Jai Govind started calling me frequently, asking me where I was. This happened till the finish. Got a little frustrating, but I remained calm. I clearly mentioned the route, the deviation to Vashisht and I took off. The so-called "death climb" beckoned. I wanted some calories at Vashisht. "Peanut butter?" I asked. They had no clue where it was. I'll manage with what I was carrying, I thought. Warm water and some Tailwind®, I was sorted. I let the warm water flowing outside Vashisht hot spring run over my knees. I can definitely vouch for its therapeutic powers. Mentally, I was a little sad that my shoes were ripped. Since the sole had come off, the climbing got laborious. Putting all my body weight on poles, I hauled myself up. Traction was poor at my feet. I needed a distraction. I took out my music player and listened to the audiobook "Eat and Run" by Scott Jurek. For the hundredth time. I'm reminded of my run up Volcanoes in Indonesia- two steps up, one slide down. Finally reached a little clearing after the forest - Moridugh ( remember dugh?). A fire was lit and men huddled around taking in the warmth. "Where's food?", I enquired. "In the kitchen tent some 5 minutes above". I got in and met some more locals including Balram from Solang. Gobbled dal, rice and vegetables. Not hot, (they didn't expect runners this early) but solid food nevertheless. Out soon. Flat trail (but slushy) till the infamous British bridge. Plates had been laid out this time over the scaffolding-like skeleton structure. Suresh, the volunteer from Solang was kind enough to accompany me across and show me the way using his torchlight. After that, it was a grassy, wide trail. The British used this path earlier, it was a Jeep track, I was told. This section was only applicable to 100k runners. Then, the trail abruptly ended. A huge landslide had occurred, so we had to climb up and across scree and loose earth. This section, albeit short was probably the steepest section of the race. Reaching 14 mode (the 14th hairpin bend after Gulaba towards Rohtang) was a relief. Drop bag at km 67. Again, a change of shoe and additional layers to combat the cold ahead. I took it easy here, chatting with Baba and Gagan ( he DNFed a while earlier and was volunteering. Wow!) Glugged down Unived supergreens to keep my gut from rebelling. Used a secondary headlamp on my waist because I expected it to be tricky going up.

Off towards Brighu lake - the highest point on this course ~4100m. Past the tree line, it got confusing at night. That's because there are many trails running parallel to each other up the grassy mountain. No stones, no trees it's very difficult to mark this part too. Mountaineering common sense has to prevail- keep climbing in one direction, looking for signs - horse/ cow dung, flattened grass - basically anything which indicates some being was here earlier. Past some Gaddi tents, the gradient eased out. Little streams were crossed with ease and it got noticeably colder. About 2km before the camp at Roli kohli, (pronounced similar, not sure how it's spelt) it started to snow. As I climbed further, the landscape turned white. "Pack ho gaya" is how the locals would describe this. There were about 10 tents scattered at Roli kohli but not a flicker of light. I tapped on each tent yelling "Hell race? Hell race?". Easily spent some 40 minutes before I could find our folks. Naveen and team had snuggled into their sleeping bags for the night. “Get up guys, I gotta Go”, I exclaimed. "Risk hai ji" I was told calmly. I tried to venture out in the snowstorm but visibility was near zero. A blizzard-like scene. My fingers were numb. One has no sense of direction, and markings were out of the equation. I was a cat on a hot tin roof. They heated some water and made black coffee. Aah, delightful ! I calmed down and we had to take a decision for the safety of all. Tried the walky talky - no signal. Then Naveen and his friend grabbed a phone and we all hiked up the hill to a point where mobile network was a possibility. Informed Johnny bhai of our situation. Then got through to Vishwas Bhai. Again they claimed to him "risk hai, Bhai". He thought for a while and said "Ok, get down". This after all was a race. Going further was not an option. I couldn't hunker down in the camp waiting for weather to clear, could I? I set off downwards immediately and it was such a relief to get past the ice. I met Jai Govind half way down and updated him on the situation. Ditto with navy guys - Sanjay and Yogesh Tiwari sir. Also Hira lal and Andrei (Romanian). I observed that runners had gelled in pairs or small groups. Oh, I wish!

Back, the same route down. I was sleep deprived and thus memories seem a little blur. The skies turned gray as I approached Kothi. I've to do some more climbs, I knew. Vishwas Bhai told that we had to do the Sagadugh climb once more to compensate the distance. That's almost a VK! (vertical kilometer i.e 1000m climb in less than 5km) That too at the fag end of a race. Jai Govind called me constantly, asking where I am. Let me get this done, I decided and popped a gel I had preserved. Up and down. Nepali guy notes my number and time. Down to the Beas wooden bridge. Adi clicked a pic.  And up again. One last time. It was exhausting in sunshine’s full glory. 3rd time he notes my bib number. I'm first on all three occasions. As I descend, I spot Jai Govind near the village. Spent, he had stopped and was staring into the distance. I encouraged him to hurry up. Yep, I had built a fair lead. Shouldn't do anything silly the last few Kms. But hey, the only way to go downhill is fast. These thoughts were messing my brain. Passing the village, it was such a lovely feeling. There was a Dham (feast) that day. It seemed like every one had stepped out to cheer me on. Word got out that I was in first place. This mad fellow who they had seen all winter - running up and down. He is actually number one. My landlord, Thakur ji, a fine mountaineer in his prime, offered me a Frooti. "Kaamyab raho" (be successful) were his parting words, like always. Got me a bit emotional. The only finish I know is a strong one. So I charge, across the river, towards Hotel Iceland. Onlookers hooted as they saw me approach. The red, Hell Race finish line was visible. A hop, skip and it was done. Just like that. My long hike in the mountains was over.

Post race:  I did let out some steam at the finish line. I was coughing profusely. Lingered around for a while. Jai Govind finished about 9 minutes after me. That implies, he did nearly a 1000m climb and came down in that time (go figure). Regardless, 3rd place was nowhere near for hours. Met Kieren (30k winner) and Monica (10k female winner). Vijay Pandey and Sweta were also there, ever so supportive. Had a quick shower. Roamed around with Bharat and guys, helping around at the aid stations. Returned to Hotel Iceland in the evening by the cutoff time. Yogesh Tiwari sir and Sanjay had just finished. The local legend Hira lal, trickled in to a standing ovation. I could see joy and satisfaction in his eyes. Now, his wife would allow him to run the next Hell race 😁. Congratulated Nupur Singh on her fabulous performance. I was not surprised because I had seen her training first hand. She was best prepared. We didn't speak much but both were satisfied on sticking to and executing a plan.

It was a relaxed atmosphere. Hugs were warm and genuine. Slowly runners settled in for the prize giving ceremony. Col. Rana awarded the medals.
Looking back, I would like to express my deepest thanks to Vishwas Bhai. This time you were here early and the planning was commendable. Your calmness in all situations never cease to amaze me. Bhai, Brighu se aage marking abhi baaki hai 😜. Baba - what an amazing course this is! Next time - 100 miler. I can confidently say that Baba did the most climbing amongst all leading up to the race. Ever smiling, you never know. Good job 'drone'acharya - Pratyush! Great dedication, amazing shots too. Roshan Bhai, Ludar Bhai, Johnny bhai. This event couldn’t have been possible without you. I'm sure I have forgotten some names, but my sincere thanks to one and all.

The cap: True to his word, Hira lal was back. There it was in his hands - a winter beanie, so soft and white as fresh snow. All the way from Switzerland! I had actually dreamt about this.
Bestowed upon me by my guru with his blessings. So satisfying. It was a feather in the cap indeed.

https://www.strava.com/activities/2769243420

Deccan ultra 50k

"It's not because things are difficult that we dare not venture. It's because we dare not venture that they are difficult." -- Seneca

UTMB 2018

Circa December 2015 was when I first saw this:

August 31 2018: I finally made it. Those four letters - UTMB - had encapsulated why I run. With an all-encompassing passion that permeated everything I did.