I OPEN AT THE CLOSE

If you are a Harry Potter fan, you’ll be familiar with this phrase: I open at the close.

It’s what Harry read on the Golden Snitch that Albus Dumbledore had caught in his first ever Quidditch match, which he bequeathed to Harry as part of his legacy.  

Being a Potterhead myself, I knew the phrase. But I never imagined I’d find new meaning to it at a personal level thanks to La Ultra – The High. But I’m getting ahead of myself here. Let me pick up the story where I left it at the end of Part 3, where there were three runners still in the race in the 555 kms category.


With Viren, my fellow traveler, en route to Tanglang-La.

With Viren, my fellow traveler, en route to Tanglang-La.

“Norbu, stop, stop, stop,” I said, as we saw this gorgeous sheet of snow crystals on the mountainside on our way up to Tanglang-La, trailing Matthew, Ashish and Jason, our 555 km runners in that order. We took a short break to gaze at the chandelier like creations in awe, before we remembered that we were at “work.” And then of course, we gazed some more.

Life lesson #Umpteen: There is always time to pause, to savor the moment and be one with nature. Life took on its own pace in the mountains, and we had lost track of time, not knowing what day of the week or date it was. Rajat’s Excel spreadsheets on the runners were also devoid of Chronos time. It only had moments etched on them, symbolic of life itself.

The lake at Debring, the 333 U-turn.

The lake at Debring, the 333 U-turn.

An Army convoy was stationed in Debring, the 333 km U-turn point for the runners where we were headed to next. To avoid coming in their way, we took the liberty of selecting a spot to set up the La Ultra flags to welcome the runners a tad bit further than the demarcated point last year. I loved the spontaneity, and the no-fuss with which the situation was dealt with. There was also this nondescript lake, just another breathtaking beauty in the mountains, which was the backdrop of the cut-off point.

We settled down to welcome Matthew, Ashish, and Jason, who made it within 5-10 minutes of the cut-off time of 72 hours. Fatigue was writ large on their faces.

Icy cold winds started to blow across from where we were and one could see Tanglang-La at a distance being enveloped in a blanket of clouds which we all thought could be snow…yet again. The night was about to set in, and the runners would need to climb up the mountain pass the second time around, for at least 20 kms, before making it to the next cut-off point at Lato (391 kms; 87 hours). We all waited in anticipation to see what would unfold next.  

Perhaps the Mountain Gods (if there are any) decided that the runners had been put through enough of a test, had proved their resolve, and seeing that they were refusing to buckle down, it was now time to spare them the ravages of further extreme cold weather. The sun was shining bright the next day, and the heat index rose.

I had been observing all three runners on the course.

Between episodes of feeling “great,” and moments of lucidity, there were times when their words would come out unclear. There were also times when there was no talking at all. There would be just a flourish of the hand, acknowledging your presence, or a brief response to Rajat’s check-ins. Rajat knew when to let them just be, and when to engage with them.

All three runners spoke of hallucinations, knowing they were seeing things that weren’t really in existence, with a sense of detachment and acceptance. As a psychologist I found this fascinating. In my clinical practice I had observed that people got sucked into their hallucinations so much that they usually do not know how to differentiate between the real and the imaginary. But these three, they were running on autopilot, eating and drinking often, sometimes at the behest of their crew; they were keeping time, and were also relentlessly moving forward. Jason spoke about shopping centers, fish, and snakes being thrown at him as his objects of hallucination, while Matthew had a whole conversation with Rajat in the wee hours of the morning, when Rajat was nowhere near him in reality.

And On. They. Went. Despite. It. All. Inspite. Of. It. All.

And then, almost imperceptibly, the sequence of the runners started changing, with Matthew still in the lead, but Jason now running ahead of Ashish to take second place. Ashish focused on his plan, with his sight only on the finish line. He had made it amply clear to me when I had interviewed him before the race.

“My competition is with myself, and no one else, and that is what I am setting my mind to.”

That night they climbed up Wari-La the second time over, beneath a glorious, star studded sky, reminding themselves to put one step in front of the other, to return to Serthi for their last cut-off point (495 kms; 113 hours) before they attempted to cross the finish line.

While we trailed them close to midnight, I realized for the first time, how difficult the combination of sleep deprivation, fatigue and breathing in rarefied air was at just 15,000 feet, as I experienced it first-hand. We had been in the car all the time; these guys had been running now into their fifth day and were inching closer to the 495 km mark. How was that even possible?

The game changed the next morning.

Jason climbed down Wari-La, stopped at the guest house in Serthi for 10 minutes, and was on his way to finishing the remaining 60 kms to the finish line at Shanti Stupa. Let me say that slowly again. The guy who had been behind the others for almost four-fifths of the race was now ahead.

He wasn’t just in the lead. He was cruising along effortlessly, with a smile on his face, despite the blisters on his feet, the ulcers in his mouth, and with only 6 hours of “lay down” combined in 5 days.

The sun was blazing that day as we felt sweat trickle down our necks, and the heat from the roads rising up. We were still the lucky ones whose “very tough job” was to sit inside the car and keep the runners’ time and check on how they were doing.

It was now becoming increasingly probable that all three runners would cross the finish line for sure before the 6 AM cut-off the next day. Rajat was confident that they wouldn’t wait until the darkness gave way to the light of the morning. They would complete the run before that.

Did I mention Jason was truly cruising, running a kilometer in 5 ½-6 minutes, despite having run 500 kms thus far?

How was that even possible?,” my mind shrieked again. I was getting used to this question repeatedly popping up by now.

Nothing extraordinary happened for a while because even the meaning of that word was not enough to justify the amazing feat we were witnessing.

The excitement was palpable and infectious, as we all geared up for the epic moment of seeing three out of the five runners who entered the 555 km category cross the finish line. It was finally happening. The naysayers had been silenced; and the hopeful, optimistic ones amongst us were already celebrating. We were celebrating human conviction, courage, fortitude, strength, and the ever shining life force coursing through those bodies pounding the roads.

Jason crossed the finish line in 120 hours and 19 minutes. He had been on his feet for 120 hours (5 days!) and 19 minutes. I’ll give you a minute to let it sink in. With 12 hours to spare for the cut off, with the soles of his shoes having actually been burnt and melted, Jason had literally set the course on fire.   

Jason crossing the finish line, setting a record for being the first individual to complete 555 kms at La Ultra - The High. (PC: La Ultra - The High)

Jason crossing the finish line, setting a record for being the first individual to complete 555 kms at La Ultra - The High. (PC: La Ultra - The High)

Matthew strode in at 123 hours and 35 minutes.

Matthew proved that distances didn’t matter. It was what the mind set itself to do that made all the difference. (PC: La Ultra - The High)

Matthew proved that distances didn’t matter. It was what the mind set itself to do that made all the difference. (PC: La Ultra - The High)

And close to 1 AM, Ashish, along with his cheering crew holding a flag of India, came in at 126 hours and 18 minutes.  

Ashish, crossing the finish line, made India proud! (PC: La Ultra - The High)

Ashish, crossing the finish line, made India proud! (PC: La Ultra - The High)

History had finally been written. Truly, if ever there was an appropriate time to say #EPIC, this was it.

The finish line, as it turned out, didn’t mean it ended there. I had started tracking their story in the weeks preceding the event, and but the real stories had unfolded in the last 5 days. Especially in these last five days. Including after the race was officially over.

Matthew spoke about how it is never about the distance one runs, but something beyond the physical form which makes one succeed. I had only written about it based on what I had heard from others. But the true meaning and import sprung out just now after having seen these brilliant, focused individuals at play.

It was their minds at play, as they deployed many tools to bargain with the demons inside the head, ready to rear their many ugly heads and tell you to stop. When self-doubt sprung up, they would silence questions like “Why are you doing this?” “Is it worth it?” “Are you sure you have it in you?” by digging in deeper, with conviction, fearlessness, and a self-belief so strong that they would embrace whatever challenge came their way. 

“Don’t let your body rule your mind. Your mind has absolute power over everything. Keep positive, surround yourself with optimism, and stay focused on the goals ahead. Believe and achieve.” I read Jason’s many posts on Facebook where I found his words etched to inspire others. When someone asked him what made him smile even at the 495th km mark up and all the way to the end, his response was disarming:

“The thought of pizza after the run.”
This was joy at its purest.

Ashish had stayed with his plan of finishing the run; of resting when the body needed it, and pushing when he felt the surge within. He had worked on his sleep patterns, nutrition, physical and mental training, the commitment to himself, and the many people cheering for him across India further fueled him on.

It wasn’t always the mountains, it wasn’t always the weather, it wasn’t about the distances, or the long days on the road that mattered to these three. The obstacles and the ways to overcome them were both within.

A Facebook post from Jason on the importance of the crew in completing the 555.

A Facebook post from Jason on the importance of the crew in completing the 555.

All this would not have been possible without the crew that supported each of these runners. They paced them, cooked for them, provided psychological support, were their voice of reason. They taped the blisters on the feet, gave them manual therapy, made sure they were well fed and rested, and so much more that I was not privy to. All this when they themselves were short on sleep, having been subjected to the harsh weather conditions, and finding no schedule to rest or take care of themselves. The runners were their priority and they were steadfast in their commitment.  

Such were these incredible individuals who had volunteered their time for two weeks, been away from work and home, who had no idea what transformation was in store for them.

I had seen it with my own eyes. The humbling that I have spoken about throughout, the focus shifting from “me” and “I” to “you,” not even “us”; finding joy in the success and victory of the runners, forsaking comfort for them, seeing their success silently as their own without saying a word, and knowing that somewhere in not bragging about all that they did for their runners, they actually ended up doing so much more – not just for the other but for themselves. Such was their own personal victory, their own sense of accomplishment, which some may not have been realized yet.

I know it is still sinking in for me.

Did I get answers to my questions on “why” these runners took on this challenge of participating in one of the cruelest ultra-marathons? Somehow it didn’t seem as important anymore.

What mattered was “how” these individuals showed us that nothing is impossible; that there is more to the indomitable human will than we know of. That there are discoveries we make of ourselves every moment when we face challenges and obstacles. That the power of the mind is truly limitless. That failure is just a mere word; it’s what it teaches you that matters, acting as the spring in your step. That reflecting on the self in the expansive lap of nature teaches you more about yourself than any book or individual could; because in you the questions arise, and in you reside the answers. That love, care, and support go a long, long way.

The layers I had spoken about earlier, had peeled off, in one way or the other for most of us. Whether they were about oneself, and/or in relation to someone else. We found ourselves in silence often, wondering if life had taken on a different meaning after this trip, and what was in store for us after. Would the mundane still feel that way, was that calmness that had descended here to stay, would things that once excited us continue to do so still, or would they seem insignificant and unimportant? Would we live genuinely fulfilling lives, and was there now a fire in the belly that would only get more stoked with each breath we took?

Only time would tell. 

Typically, when things come to an end, when you cross a finish line, when a story comes to its conclusion, you look for closure. In this case though, the opposite happened—for me and for everyone who was a part of La Ultra – The High, edition-X. Our minds opened up to a whole different way of being, one where impossible had no place in the dictionary. Maybe it’s because my soul has bottled up the stillness of the mountains and taught me this above everything else: find your place in this world and hold steady. Then, no comings or goings will disturb your peace, not even that of time.

I opened at the close.

And Then There Were Three

(In case you haven’t already done so, here’s where you can catch up with Part 1 and Part 2 )

 “It’s never about the distance, or how much and how long you run. It’s about tackling the La Ultra each of us have within us that matters.”

I have heard Rajat say this more than once. And I saw these as not merely words when I saw it unfold in front of my eyes.

In different ways, the runners from the 55 km through to the 555 km category expressed the shift they felt within themselves. They came face to face with the silences, mostly because of the lack of connectivity with the world due to the limited phone networks in some areas. There were, of course, those mountains, the inclement weather, the rarefied air, beyond all of which lay a test of their own will and strength, and how far they could go, how deep they could dig.

The layers finally start coming off. For all of us.

I had been sitting in the car for hours on end, often waiting by the roadside for the last runner to pass so that we knew everyone was accounted for. The mountains stood resolutely, towering over you on all sides, like a dark mirror nudging you to face those deep, dark fears, those questions about your life which you had shelved away for a distant (hopefully never) future, dreading what they might bring up to the surface. And you had no choice but to turn inward, to look at those reflections, to hear answers being echoed from deep within, goading you to live authentically, fearlessly, with humility and a commitment to not just the self-preserving you, but to others around you who mattered.

The “brokenness” made its presence felt, and all you could do was let it engulf you, let it hold you in its grip, till you look at it, unflinchingly in the eye. That’s when you realize that in the brokenness is a beauty and a strength that you had never experienced before. It reveals you in your truest form, however uncomfortable this newness is. The transformation is underway.

Yes, the mountains have a way of shining a light on your deepest thoughts. During the course of La Ultra, I heard other people share similar thoughts, as I myself went through a metamorphosis of sorts.

Where was I? Oh yes, the cutting down to size of the human condition.

When you are in the middle of nowhere in the dark hours of the night, staring up at the Milky Way, you feel suitably dwarfed, insignificant, and humbled. We found ourselves parked once again on the side of the road close to midnight, somewhere near Wari-La top at an altitude of 15000 feet. I asked Norbu to turn off the headlamps of the car so that the sky could be seen in all its glory. The silence was all pervading, as I looked up at what seemed like a sheer blanket of twinkling lights, only to be distracted by the sight of a few shooting stars. How can we even dare to think that we are larger than this cosmos? And back into the race, we were soon going to know whose word was final, who would catch us by surprise yet again.

It was day 2 of the run, and I looked up the weather forecast  for Wari-La, the next mountain pass the runners across all the categories (55, 111, 222, 333, 555 kms) would traverse: Cold, high of 3C, low of -5C, 0% chance of precipitation. So far so good. We would be spared the trauma of what transpired at Khardung-La, we safely assumed. Were we wrong!

As the runners went up the mountain, there was a blizzard, which meant that the last 4 kms of the roads leading to the top of the mountain pass were icy and slippery.

Grit and perseverance started shining through as Amit, the only participant in the 222 kms category out of a total of 9, made it to the finish line within the cut-off time of 48 hours.

You see words like “mind over matter” come to life when runners persist despite their body giving them signals time and again that maybe it’s time to stop, be it because of fatigue or an injury that was threatening to flare up and make it difficult to move on.

Shikha, who was attempting the 222 kms this year, after having been the fastest female finisher in the 111 km category in 2018, was someone who garnered immense support through the race with her sheer will power and quiet determination. Having managed the previous cut-offs till South Pullu well, and reaching the 173 km despite an injury to her shin, she was hopeful of finishing the remaining 49 kms. Till the blizzard at Wari-La happened and the remaining distance seemed daunting to traverse due to the weather conditions. The injury was also rapidly worsening.

Gregor whose generosity I spoke about in my earlier post, rose to the situation and supported Shikha on the course, being by her side, encouraging her to go on.

There comes a point when the body reaches its limit and the mind eggs you to continue, to push those limits further, when even reason fails and you want to just keep ploughing ahead. Till you just can’t go on because the target keeps getting more and more distant, and the physical body is breaking down further with each step. Feeling crestfallen, Shikha finally decided to stop at the 215 km mark, a mere 7 km short of the finish line.

But here’s the thing: the heart and mind don’t give up. You see growth in setbacks, a deeper resolve to come back and take care of unfinished businesses the next time around. You don’t see non-completion as a failure but as a testimony of just how much potential you have to keep on marching forward, stronger, with each step being surer next time. Dreams were negotiated with, and expectations were tempered.

The dog that was trailing Jasmine on Day 1 (fondly christened “Indie”), was found running alongside Cassie when we last sighted her. It is our guesstimate that Indie would have run more than 100 kms by then. We didn’t see her again though. In hindsight, I should have requested Rajat to deploy a separate crew car for Indie, La Ultra’s first canine ultra-runner for this special edition😊. Who knows what potential she would have tapped into, lost in translation with all of us, but again showing that anything is possible amidst the beauty of nature where silences speak more than words ever would, and where deep connections form, and hearts unite.

Meanwhile Cassie and Nischint both pulled out of the 333 category due to the pounding by the weather, compounded by hypothermia, fatigue, exhaustion, and sleep deprivation.

Around the 260 km mark , we were now left with four of the original five 555 kms participants still in the running.

A little digression.

Now that the race is over and we have the results, I can tell you that the thoughts I had at the start of the race were probably the same as what most people including, dear Reader, you had about this category.

In the first place, who were these guys who were even thinking of attempting 555 kms in 5.5 days? And how many, if any at all, would finish?

Some guessed zero finishers. The optimistic, hopeful ones amongst us said maybe, just maybe, there would be one or two.

Time would tell.

But let me first introduce you to these amazing individuals.

Jason (Australia): Is one of the strongest social change agents and influencers I have met. Having struggled with clinical depression himself, he now uses ultra-running and fitness to encourage people to become mentally and physically fit. He completed the 222 kms run in 2018 at La Ultra.

Matthew (USA): Now lives in Bulgaria after having engaged in a soul-searching expedition around the world for two years and realized that one needs to have a raison d’etre other than just working to earn a living. He and his partner, Cassie, passionately run ultras, and came to Ladakh a month before La Ultra to train in the mountains. He completed the 333 kms run in 2017.

Praveen (India): The twinkle in Praveen’s eye, his passion, enthusiasm, and his commitment to whatever he does made an impact on me. The want to do more was so strong, that you caught yourself making his dreams your own. He completed the 222 kms run in 2018.

Ashish (India): His running spans only 5 years, and Ashish already had the most dramatic finish at the 333 km race in 2018, when he crossed the finish line with a mere 31 seconds to spare. His simple response to my question of why 555 km: “You need newer challenges to test yourself, and here I am again.”

I was looking forward to seeing these runners on the course and observe how the days would pan out for them.

(Above (L-R): Matthew, Ashish, Praveen, & Jason, the 555 km participants.)

We were now on our way to the Tanglang-la mountain pass, and then onwards to Debring  at a distance of 333 kms mark, where 72 hours was the cut-off time for the runners to get there.

There were crew cars tagging each runner and I was in one of them.

I hopped out at one point on the ascent to speak to Matthew, who was, at the time, in the lead by almost an hour.

I might have walked just 200 meters with him but that was enough for me to feel the effect of the altitude and the reduced oxygen. And here he was effortlessly walking-running on Day 3 of the race. We talked some, as I wanted to gain an insight into how he was feeling. It seemed like a casual conversation two friends would have over coffee. There was a smile, an optimistic attitude, and a preview of the lessons the mountains were teaching.

“What’s been the biggest challenge so far, Matthew?” I asked him.

I was expecting a reply around the difficulties he may have faced along the way.

“Cassie not being able to finish 333,” he said instead.

I would later learn more about why it wasn’t about the distances, or the ascent, or the weather that most of us would have expected him to talk about.

 “See you, Divya. It ain’t so bad, right, walking up the mountains?”

He and I laughed. 280+ kms and he was as spirited as if he had just begun to run.

At this point, Ashish was in second place, Praveen third, and Jason fourth.

How and why were these runners in the 555 kms category gunning so strong, when other runners in the shorter distances had found it difficult to continue?  Was it really the weather? The mountains? The distances? I would soon find out as the days rolled by.

Word came that Praveen had decided to pull out of the race somewhere around the 280 km mark.

And then there were three…

 <The concluding Part 4 coming up shortly>