“Its gonna be a long day”, said the Canadian runner as we tackled the first elevation of the day. It was half past seven in the morning. A naive 6-7 hour finishing time however was my idea. I saw that intention mocked at, by the trail, as the noon sun began drying the salt at the back of my neck. Stupa to Stupa run has been the most grueling run that I signed up for, until now. What, with a lifestyle of running in plains (and the lovely parks of Bangalore) was I hoping for here in the mountains? Running is a completely different affair on mountain trails. A simple lesson as this, hits home as I write this. An Olympic runner once said that “you have to run mentally first” is true of trail running too. I tried running mentally. Then, at 28th km I realized that I had the mind for the remaining 27 km but not the body. Spirit was soon a pendulum swinging from I-can’t-do-it to keep-chipping-it-away. Every 100 meter done is 100 meter closer. By the third ascent at around 39th km I was in the dumps – cursing myself for being there. This was a perfect spot for the onset of such crisis – no hope of dropping out because on either side the trail has no vehicle support. One would have to walk through anyway!
The morning had an upbeat mood which is sort of typical for runs. A little beyond the Swayambhu stupa which was the start line the trail began climbing up to the peak of Changunarayan. The summit lies at 7.3 km from the start. The impression was that this is the only hard tackle of the day. Rest of it would come easy. This wasn’t true. It was only first of the many truths about trail running and about myself that were to hit over the course of the day.
I wasn’t prepared for the substantial elevation gains three times over the entire course. As soon as one starts, over the 7 kms the trail goes from 1326 m to 2073 m. When this is done, a long winding forest trail follows which is also one of best forest trails I have seen. A thick bed of dry leaves covered the trail for the next 10 kilometers. There was an earthly feel to that stretch. At such moments there is a feeling of being thankful for being able to run, which gets you to these places. I was glad to be there in that morning. It was hard to spot any stray piece of plastic packaging or litter that generally comes along with human presence. Whatever was, was nature’s own. Nepal is a very beautiful place to run in my impression. The trails are very well kept, or rather, left alone. There is military presence all along the mountains though. And one needs park permits to enter in these reserved areas. SAARC nationals benefit from low entry fees.
The first aid station (with food) was at 20th km. Picked up a few muesli bars and biscuits and went on. The sun was bright by this time. However, on higher altitudes it was cold and comfortable. Crossing 20th km, I felt a good reserve of energy and was up for the remaining, until I saw the trail marking ribbons stretching all the way to horizon. The second climb, contrary to popular view, was actually more difficult. It ended with squeezing all the energy, knee strength and hope. It was a grinding halt. Hereon, I could only walk. Left knee was no longer able to bear the sight of those long staircases which stretched almost 200-250 meters. This was a trek, not run, I thought. Between 20 km to 28 km the elevation dropped to about 1460 and went up again t0 2050 m. To a runner from the plains this was a sentence to the gallows.
Meanwhile, the Nepali runners with their ‘hill legs’ were cantering out into the canopies. The fastest finishing time on this trail is 7 hours. This was a piece of info shared at the finish line. The finishing time estimate I set out with in the morning had a reality check!
On this trail, I bonked out by 28th km. The usual mind games took over. The DNF devils buzzed around and I was giving in to them. Even a gentle gradient hereon would get me walking. There was no hope of shuffling through them. The many streams of water flowing across the trail helped with reviving home and a good wash could get me an uncomplaining half km run.
Soon enough, I was out of my mind. The entire machinery stopped. It was like the silence which consumes a space when the power goes off abruptly. I wasn’t thinking anymore. I wasn’t registering events around anymore. I had stopped looking at the GPS too. Same state of mind until 50th km when the trail descended from the hills onto the plan and had the last 4 km run up to Boudha Stupa. This was an aid station. A kid sat on a chair, may be 2-3 year old. I stretched out my palm, she stretched out and touched it after some hesitation. We sat. After a few biscuits, I was up for the last leg. It is amazing to see what is registered in the mind’s eye during such states of exhaustion. 200 meters ahead I lost way. Went off a different path until someone said that other runners have passed through a different way. I almost died at the thought of backtracking to the right course. However, from this spot the Boudha Stupa was visible in the distance. It would have been a shame to call it quits now.
Getting back on the right course, the last two kilometers were through city roads. It was not a run. It was a quick leap to end it all. A large part of me wanted to get done with it all and go back to the hotel bed. I hobbled into the paved alleys that led up to the stupa. Runners had to do a kora (circumambulation) of the stupa and then show up at the finish.
I had managed to end the day. As always, finish line never sees a miserable runner, just an exhausted one. This wasn’t life changing. I felt that such event have been character building for me. I returned to a very large meal of Nepali daal-bhaat after a long hot shower.
The rest of the night was seething pain in knees and torso, but a peaceful realization that I know myself a little more, a step at a time.