Prologue: Nikomen

During the Battle of Marathon in 490 BC, the Greek army inflicted a crushing defeat on the more numerous Persian army. During the conflict, though, the Greeks required extra troops and equipment. So a middle aged man around 40 years of age was given the responsibility of traveling to Athens and requesting assistance.

This man goes by the name of Philippides, started his journey of 240 km from Marathon, running day and night over two days, traversing passes on Mount Parthenion and the city of Tegea, encountering the God Pan along the route, and arrived Sparta. He informed the governing council of the needs and returned to Marathon with the requisite orders. The battle field was another 40 km away from the Marathon. The Greeks had already won by the time he arrived.

Philippides, full of pride and happiness, rushed back to Athens to tell the people about the triumph, covering another 240 kilometers before collapsing and dying. The last thing he said was, “Nikomen!”

I was reading about Philippides with disbelief in the pitch dark of the night between September 7th and 8th, 2023, as the Khardung La Challenge (KC) was set to start in a few hours. A group of approximately 250 brave runners have gathered in Khardung, a small settlement north of the Khardung La, to compete in the world’s highest and toughest ultra marathon. There was an eerie stillness all around. The sky was half-moon-lit, and the Orion three stars kept a watchful vigil over the entire town.

I felt overwhelmed with self-doubt and anxiety. I couldn’t help but wonder how Philippides managed to finish those ultra runs. Did he ever think of not finishing and thus depriving the Athenians of the news of their victory? Would history be any different if he hadn’t managed to deliver those messages? Would we be participating in marathons imagined after his valiant runs today?

I don’t know the answers, but what I did know at the time was that the biggest race of my life, for which I had worked hard for over a year, was about to start.

Obesitas!

After spending three years in the great city of Mumbai, eating whatever was available under the sun, drinking all the soda available in Colaba, and giving my butt all the rest imaginable with sleepless nights – I had turned into a 95 kg ticking time bomb ready to detonate at any minute. So when my job relocated me to the arid and cold deserts of Ladakh, I resolved to improve my fitness.

I started my training with walking. At this altitude of 14000 feet, even walking a mile seemed Herculean. But I continued to do it every day. So, after a few weeks, I was capable of walking at least five kilometers every day and also began to lose weight. I attempted running for half a mile one day, and when I finished, my heart rate was 195 beats per minute, and I had to sit in a tripod position to catch my breath. I simply had two choices: quit engaging in this idiotic behavior or create a plan to improve it. So, not surprisingly, I chose the latter.

Men have always needed a goal, an aim. This gives their lives purpose, uplifts their self-esteem, and increases their self-confidence. So, what was my goal? To get back in shape and stay fit? Initially, yes!

But then, last September, a friend of mine uploaded a picture of himself finishing KC! In that split second, I realized what my true goal was. I had to finish KC! The world’s highest and most difficult ultra marathon of 72 kilometers to be finished in 14 hours!

Paraskevi!

I only had a year to train for this marathon and had hardly ran 5 km at the time. Because I was situated at 14000 ft, I needed to develop a long distance running plan that would gradually train me while also preventing injuries and high altitude illnesses like the dreaded HAPO and HACO. So, I followed the following guidelines: –

1. To gradually increase the distance – walking/jogging/running – whatever it takes.
2. Adequate rest between workouts considering the altitudes – not more than 3 activities per week.
3. No compromise with shoes – Rotated Nike Vomero 16 and Puma Foreverrun Nitro one8.
4. Join in timed events whenever possible.

Over the next month, I completed my first milestone by walking a half marathon in three and a half hours. I learned Jeff Galloway‘s approach of run-walk-run, first in a 1:1 ratio and progressively increasing it to 9:1. I would run for 9 minutes, followed by a minute of brisk walking. It also helped me to effortlessly improve my pace from 10 min/km to 7 min/km. I believe, this is a good speed for high altitude at 14,000 feet.

I ran my first half marathon in December 2022, followed by another one in January 2023. I finished both races in under 2:15 hours. Still, I had unpleasant finishes in each of the races since my legs became extremely fatigued towards the finish line. Both of these runs were at sea level.

Guinness World Record

The opportunity for a high altitude run knocked soon after when I and 75 other runners finished a half marathon over frozen Pangong Tso Lake, at 14,106 feet and etched our names in the annals of Guinness World Records. Sustaining such a high-altitude run demanded a high level of fitness and stamina. It took me 2:50 hours to finish it. A one-of-a-kind run in which the risk of drowning was far greater than the chance of not finishing.

Full Marathon

My body was now ready to withstand more longer runs after completing three HMs, including one at 14,000 feet. The next obvious goal was to run a FM. However, due to the logistical difficulties in arranging food and water for extended runs, the maximum distance I could train for was 30 km. This would not be enough for a 72-kilometer ultramarathon. So, I signed up for the Pune AFMC Marathon in August 2023. I had mixed expectations from the run, but it went better than I expected. There were no heavy legs or gasping for breath. I finished it in less than 5 hours. Bingo! 42.195 miles completed – slowly and gradually racing towards the ultimate race in a month!

One week before the KC, I ran the Rezang La Full Moon Marathon at 14,000 feet, on the shore of Pangong Tso Lake. It was an enormous risk, one week before a major ultramarathon, but I took it, nonetheless. I completed the marathon within 6 hours, as intended. But it turned out to be far more challenging than I had anticipated, particularly on the upslopes and near the end. After the marathon, I was fatigued, and the mere notion of running 32 kilometers in a straight uphill direction in KC was sending shivers down my spine. Have I become a Gama in the Land of Lama? Only time will tell!

The next week was spent resting and recouping. The anticipation anxiety was getting the best of me. I just wanted the KC to start.

08.09.2023

The stage was set for the tenth edition of KC. The Khardung village had sprung to life in the wee hours of September 8th. The atmosphere was charged with excitement. The runners had all assembled at the starting point. Far away, the blinking headlights of Silk Route Ultra (SRU) racers who had already been running for the past eight hours were visible.

These athletes still needed to cross the Khardung checkpoint, which also had a 3 AM deadline. It was such a surreal sight to watch as they rushed past us at the checkpoint, huffing and puffing, yet sprinting to avoid disqualification.

0300h

Exactly at 3:00 a.m., the marathon was flagged off and began the arduous 72-kilometer voyage. It was so overcrowded early on that getting a way through was difficult for a few kilometers. I maintained a conservative starting pace of about 9 minutes per kilometer and ran/walked in a 4:1 ratio. The majority of the runners were walking, and several were even using walking sticks. My goal was to hit Khardung La in about 5 to 6 hours. The first ten kilometers were relatively easy. After that, as the altitude began to rise, the speed decreased and the temperature dropped, making running more difficult. I was a little tired but extremely cold. By the time I got to North Pulu (17 km from the start, 15,000 ft), I was clearly shivering. For extra warmth, I put on an extra layer of fleece and a woolen cap. A gentleman nearby also offered hot tea. This actually helped me, and after a brief five-minute break, I resumed my run.

NorthPulu – KhardungLa – Devil’s Circuit!

Khardung La (K top) is 15 kilometers from North Pulu and has an altitude gain of over 2500 feet. This disparate height gain includes two fairly steep climbs. The first one begins right after crossing North Pulu. It is a 3–4 kilometer serpentine section with an ascend of roughly 1000 feet (15,000 —> 16,000). The second, a 3-4 km segment, features an altitude gain of roughly 1300 feet (16,200 —> 17,500). It begins about seven kilometers short of the K Top. Both of these segments are nerve-racking and, in my opinion, contribute significantly to the DNF tally. The bone-chillingly cold weather near the K Top made matters worse.

So, it was a no-brainer for me to just walk briskly after crossing North Pulu. Everyone else was doing the same thing. I managed to hold my pace at 9 minutes per km till North Pulu, so I had the pleasure of walking down these sections. So slowly and steadily, I pushed myself towards the top of Khardung La. It’s only a kilometer as the crow flies, but about fifteen kilometers by this mountain road from North Pulu. What a misery!

The height had already risen to 16,000 feet by the time I crossed the first steep slope. The sun was shining, but its warmth was interrupted by the mountains. A few participants were already on the edge of dropping out due to weariness, while others were being helped by fellow runners and support staff. It was an upsetting and demoralizing thing to witness. The next few miles were gentle upslopes before the dreaded second steep upslope approached.

I was also becoming tired at this point. The lungs were practically begging for oxygen as if they were about to tear open the chest to expand, while the legs were crying out in pain from the lactic buildup. The hypoxia had begun to set in, messing with my thoughts, overcoming my resolve to continue, and, with each stride, begging me to stop!

I had to finish this, I told myself. I had prepared for this! The ultimate goal! So, I made a lot of effort, walked continually without taking many stops, and managed to reach K Top in 5 hours and 22 minutes. It was surreal. Willpower finally triumphed over mental anguish. The sight of the majestic Stok mountains rejuvenated me, and the breath of fresh air on the other side of K Top soothed my lungs. It appeared as if an invisible barrier had separated the two realms across the Khardung La.

Journey had just begun!

So, after the obligatory photos at the K Top, I began the final 40-kilometer downhill stroll to Leh. The next stop was South Pulu, which was 14 kilometers away from the K top. Time was no longer an issue because I had reached K Top two hours and thirty minutes before the cutoff time. I wanted to finish the race in under 11 hours. That meant I had to finish the remaining 40 kilometers in 5 hours and 30 minutes. Given that it would all be downhill, there would be plenty of time to finish it. But KC is regarded as the “Toughest and Ultimate Challenging Endurance Race” for a reason.

I had hardly ran for five kilometers and as the exhilaration of reaching K Top had worn off, I realized that running down slope would be an arduous task. My legs had begun to hurt more and feeling heavier, my toes were experiencing a little more pressure, and the under surface of my feet had begun to act strangely. As if I were running barefoot, the socks had transformed into a thorn bed, and every small piece of gravel was hitting the feet quite hard. I was feeling as if my feet are laced with bricks instead of sneakers. The only good thing about climbing down was that the altitude would decrease and a little more oxygen would give a respite to the exhausting lungs.

I was not able to keep up an adequate pace to achieve the time goal of under 11 hours. I hit South Pulu around 11:15 a.m. (2.45 hours from K top). The sun had already risen in the sky, testing our resolve. The wind was cold, but the blazing sunbeams added to every runner’s anguish. I took off my fleece and windcheater and continued the run.

It was another 25 kilometers to the finish line, which would take an eternity to finish. Every step I took was agonizing. A blister had formed under my left foot, which was becoming painful with each step. I changed my strategy and started by running brief sprints of 50 meters, followed by long steady walks. My misery had gotten so bad by the time I reached the 55 km refreshment station that I had to stop and sit down. My legs were simply not holding up. They’ve turned into dead logs. A recovery bus was visible. All I had to do was ask for help. They would have picked me up and all of my struggles would have vanished.

The sun was still blazing gloriously above my head. I gazed at the distant Stok Kangri peak and remembered mountaineer Ed Viesturs’ famous saying, “Getting to the top is optional, getting down is mandatory!” It was an apt metaphor for my condition and that of many others on the slopes of Khardung La attempting to finish this feat. I knelt down and stretched my legs for a few minutes, hoping to flush out some of the accumulated lactate. It actually helped somewhat, and I began to move again. This, I feel, was the turning point. I was now certain that I would successfully finish this run. I reached the penultimate pit stop “Mandek Morh”, around 1245h. Leh was another 13 km.

The Final push

I’ve arrived on the outskirts of Leh. The Lord Buddha statue, Leh Palace, and Shanti Stupa were all clearly visible now. I kept pushing and eventually made it into the town’s narrow lanes. These lanes are like a jigsaw puzzle, but luckily, they’re well-marked for runners. Now only the final few kilometers were left to the finish line. The whole neighbourhood was out in the open, cheering on each and every runner on the marathon course.

I finally made it to the market walkway for the final 500 m to the finish line. They had built a separate track for the runners. People have flocked to either side of the track, cheering and shaking hands all the way to the finish line. What a thrill it was to be a part of this extravaganza. There was no longer any fatigue! What a pleasure! What a warm welcome! In such an exuberance I crossed the finish line in 11 hours, 26 minutes! Nikomen!

Nikomen!

At the finish line, I realized how Philippides must have felt when he said “Nikomen” to the people of Athens. It must have been a sense of accomplishment that he had achieved as the messenger of triumph, before his heart ran out of beats and lungs ran out of breath! 

“Nikomen – Joy to you, we’ve won!”