Ladakh Half Marthon 2019
Right then. It's not everyday that you find yourself at the startline of a half marathon and have absolutely no idea what pace to go at. But then again, not every race forces you to learn how to breathe again. Not every race demands that you show up at the venue a week (or more) in advance to acclimatize. Not every race takes place in Ladakh.
I have to run up THAT?
It's an extremely humbling experience to have the air taken away from you. I got off the aircraft fairly well informed about the environmental challenges that awaited me, but nothing could have ever prepared me for what happened on day one.
I went there to run a half marathon and thirty minutes after reaching there, I COULD NOT climb a single flight of stairs without needing to sit down at the top. Ladakh has its own way to command your respect. The only advice worth sharing for anyone considering a visit is this: Take the first day off. Be as vegetative as you can be. Don't try to walk to the market. Don’t be a hero. Just read a book as you occasionally look up to take in some of that desert mountain beauty.
Skip forward a week and some sightseeing, I’m now thoroughly in love with the mountains and have yet again woken up at an ungodly hour for the startline. All the seasoned runners gave me a simple piece of advice: Go on feel, not on pace. Only one problem, my heart and body have been feeling like a fish out of water in the dry mountain air! So I decided to go conservative at the start and push hard later if I can. Fairly typical strategy for a runner. Good thing I did that too. Ladakh doesn’t like it when you try to push hard.
Two km in (only 19.1km to go!) and I already find myself passing all those who decided they’d go hard from the gun! That tends to happen only around the halfway point with races at sea level.
I’m carrying my bottle (stay hydrated!) and figured I should be sipping along as I go. But I’m in Ladakh! If breathing isn’t easy, why should drinking be special? The air is as arid as can be and I have to force myself to not slow down as I take a gulp. The extra effort it takes to have a sip was reflected in a tiny spike in my HR. This was going to be fun. I was already concerned about how I was going to force an energy gel down my throat when the time came. Lets just say it was not a pleasant experience.
About Five km in and I’ve passed the small village on the outskirts of Leh. The rest of the race was on the highway.
Pros: A view to die for, and crossing HH The Dalai Lama’s Residence enroute.
Cons: Alternate between chilled winds and the blistering sun.
Game Face
We’re still in a mountainous desert, so there’s exactly zero tree cover worth banking on.
17km done and the real race starts. The last four km are straight uphill.
Joy to the world.
I’d like to say I ran the whole thing with a smile on my face and passed a hundred people as if playing super mario with the Invincibility Star activated. Truth is, I took 30 minutes for this bit. Calling it running would be generous.
I would’ve been slower but for my ego. I happened to be next to an old Japanese man who looked like he’d finish at about the same time as me. Being a 20 something year old, the thought of being beaten by a 60 year did not sit well with me.
Nor did the thought of beating a 60 year old in a running race bring any joy to me, but hey! He got me to push harder. I think I beat him by about 5 seconds.
The crowd support at the end is things that dreams are made of. Thousands of people cheering you on as you nearly drop to your knees at the finish line. I felt invincible! That is after I managed to get off my knees and slowly walk towards the food.
Closing thoughts: Do I recommend this race? YES. The Ladakh Marathon deserves a spot on every runner’s bucket list. The place is breath-taking and the event is well managed. As long as you don’t expect to hit a PR, you will have a fantastic experience!
