Introduction: Inspired at the Ladakh Marathon 

The journey began at the Ladakh Marathon, where I witnessed runners conquer the Khardung La challenge at 11,700 feet. Seeing acquaintances finish strong left a deep impression. Conversations with a Silk Route Ultra finisher reinforced one simple truth: consistency matters more than intensity. That moment became my turning point. 

Committing to 100 Days 

Motivated by the marathon, I committed to running or walking at least 2 km every day for 100 consecutive days through Ladakh’s winter. The rule was simple: show up daily, regardless of time, weather, or fatigue. Some days began with early morning runs; others unfolded after lunch or late in the evening. Honoring my commitment to my mentors, well-wishers, and myself became a daily ritual. 

Recovery, Routine & the First Week 

After the Ladakh Half Marathon, I focused on recovery, starting gently with a 3 km walk. Whether jogging or walking, I never skipped a day. In the first week, I covered 51 km, a milestone that brought immense joy. Scheduling workouts around my workday ensured I stayed on track. 

Nutrition: Resetting the Plate 

I realized that performance depended on daily nourishment. I shifted to sustainable, home-cooked meals—dal, vegetables, chapattis, salads, soups, and moderate non-veg. At high altitude, simplicity became wisdom. Cutting down on sugar improved my workouts, sleep, and mental clarity. Occasional treats kept me motivated without derailing progress. 

Lifestyle Changes: Saying No to Alcohol 

Quitting alcohol proved transformative. Late-night gatherings became opportunities to hydrate instead. Support from my boss, colleagues, and parents strengthened my resolve. Mornings became clearer, and meeting daily mileage became easier. The gains far outweighed what I gave up. 

Also read: Crossing the Finish Line: My Khardung La Challenge Experience

Honest Eating and Mindful Choices 

There was no strict diet plan—just daily honesty. Simple, mindful eating made each run easier. I avoided supplements and followed a routine of fasting on Mondays and Saturdays, focusing on hydration and balance. Consistency thrived on repeatable habits. 

Running at Hanle: Silence and Solitude 

Hanle’s landscape offered thin air, quiet roads, and space to listen—to breath, terrain, and self. Some days called for a jog; others for gentle walks with masks, shades, and gloves. Afternoon runs on rocky trails felt natural and personal, earned in silence rather than applause. 

Discipline in the Evenings 

Long workdays sometimes meant evening runs. Fatigue was real, but the rule remained unchanged: show up and complete the minimum. Even short jogs after sunset felt like victories over excuses. 

The Road to the Observatory 

Running to the observatory was special. The gradual incline, wide sky, and stone homes with smoking chimneys stood resilient against time and weather. Passing villagers and porters reminded me that endurance is silent and dignified. Each step felt like borrowing a moment from their world. 

Lessons from Hanle 

Hanle taught me patience. Running did not always need momentum—only honesty. Whether walking, jogging, or running an evening mile, showing up was what counted. 

Higher Ground, Deeper Resolve 

By mid-November, I moved to a higher altitude. The thinning air required recalibration. The mountain became my coach, demanding respect and careful pacing. With consistency and clear priorities, I adapted, finding a deeper rhythm built on awareness of surroundings. 

Running Higher, Quieter 

At 14,000 feet (about half the height of Mount Everest), breath learned patience. By 15,000 feet, effort mattered more than pace. Snow arrived gently, teaching restraint and resolve. Afternoon runs became my ally as I adjusted my schedule to match the environment. 

Facing Challenges 

Preparedness became essential—UV-compliant shades, gloves, and snow boots were part of every run. Neglecting my hands once led to mild chilblains, but guidance from a local doctor and warming up by the bukhari helped me recover. 

Relearning the Rhythm of Running at 17,000 feet 

The transition to 17,000 ft required rethinking everything – physiology, rhythm, and mindset.  

Challenges  

Breathlessness and heart rate spikes at slower paces 

Harsh cold mornings requiring a mental push. 

Poor sleep affecting recovery. 

How I responded 

Shifting runs to warmer daylight hours. 

Short post run stretching sessions. 

Addition of soups, warm water, and frequent hydration 

Micro-recovery became the cornerstone 

Hanle gifted space; DBO gifted silence. Running became reflective—less about chasing numbers and more about grounding myself each morning. Every kilometer turned into a conversation with breath.  

Earning Every Step: 15,000 to 17,000 Feet 

At these altitudes, nothing came easily—not breath, rhythm, or recovery. Yet consistency had taken root. The weather changed daily, but my decision did not. I walked and showed up, earning every mile. By 17,000 feet, altitude no longer intimidated me; consistency had made it familiar. 

Finding Light on Gloomy Days 

Not every day was bright. Some began under heavy skies; snow blurred roads and weighed on the mind. These were days of choice, not excitement. Happiness had to be invited—stepping out, even reluctantly, often lifting the fog. 

Work and Workouts: Complementary, Not Competing 

Work sometimes took up most of the day, leaving little energy for running. Yet even a short evening walk became a reminder that the day still belonged to me.

Walks cleared my mind, sparked bright ideas, and sharpened focus. On gloomy days, the real win was simply stepping outside and keeping the streak alive. 

Prioritizing Effort Over Pace 

Most days at 17,000 feet began with work, with running waiting patiently as a reward. Short sessions were better than skipped ones. Post-lunch walks aided recovery and productivity. Weekends were for long workouts, and Mondays were never skipped. At that altitude, effort mattered more than pace. 

Conclusion: The Power of Consistency 

The hundred days of running in Ladakh were never about distance or speed. They were about showing up, adapting, and finding joy in small wins. The journey taught me that endurance is built on honesty, discipline, and respect for the environment. Whether facing rocky trails, thin air, or gloomy days, consistency transformed challenge into growth. Every step, earned in silence, became a testament to resolve and self-discovery.