Himalayan 100 Mile Stage Race & Mount Everest Challenge Marathon

Day 2, a Rolling Himalayan Jaunt Along the India-Nepal Border

Jackie Windh / 02.11.2016

This second stage is one of the easier days of this race - provided that you are doing OK with the altitude (ranging from 10,000-12,000’ or m today) and provided that you didn’t push yourself too hard yesterday.

Our promised views from here at Sandakphu, the only place in the world where you can see for of the world’s highest (>8000 m) peaks, did not materialize. Morning dawned mostly overcast, but we did get glimpses Kanchenjunga, 3rd highest mountain in the world at 8586 m, rosy pink behind some grey stratus clouds, as we prepared for the start line. Kanchenjunga’s peak is 75 km north of where we stood - but even from that distance, it loomed over us. However, the remaining three - Everest, Makalu, and Lhotse - were obscured by overcast.

Dave and I had travelled mostly together for Day 1. Today, though, I started strong. A few hundred metres in, I looked back for him but couldn’t see him. Suddenly I saw him ahead. I later found out that he had started even stronger but - admiring Kanchenjunga - he had tripped on the cobblestone only 300 m in. (And had a good gash on his knee to prove it).

Today’s out-and-back route was nominally 20 miles (32km), although racers’ GPS tracks found it somewhat shorter. On the elevation profile it appears to be “rolling” - but that is only relative to yesterday’s cumulative 2900 m of climbing. We started with a substantial descent for several km - runnable, but fairly steep (note to self: must climb back up this to get to the finish line). Then there was some more rolling, with some beautiful switchbacks downhill (note to self: must climb back up this to get to the finish line), before some more rolling and then a long and steep climb up to the turnaround.

I remembered this route from 2013. The weather had been bitterly cold and windy. Instead of running gear, I had put on all of my post-race gear, planning to hike it just to survive rather than even attempt running. In the end, I had run parts of it and finished the route in 5:30. So this time I hoped to run more, and finish more like 4:30 or maybe 5:00.

However, by 2 hours in, I had not seen any runners coming back yet, and I didn’t seem to be anywhere near the turnaround. I had my camera out (out-and-back days are my only opportunities to photograph the race leaders!) and, finally, as I started heading up the final big uphill before the turnaround, the leaders showed up: yesterday’s winnner David Fontaine (France) running alongside Stu Cox (Australia) and Jas Sanghera (UK). I snapped a quick photo.

I saw no other runners for ten minutes or so, then along came Matko Vidosevich (Argentina), then Eric Schranz (USA), and then my husband Dave running in sixth place. Dave, also, was running with a knee injury. I hoped he wasn’t risking too much with this pace.

Dave glanced at his watch. “Six minutes to the turnaround!” he called, “going down!”

But it’s a much longer slog UP to the turnaround. It took me more like 15 minutes to get there (one of the “full-service” aid stations, with potatoes, bananas, cookies, and a toilet!) before turning around to run back down those cobblestones. The turnaround also gave me a good opportunity to assess who was close to me, both in front and behind: turns out, nearly no one!

My jog back was quite peaceful. There was nobody anywhere near meahead to try to catch,and no one behind to push my pace, but I was still motivated to keep moving forward as quickly as I could. I wanted to break five hours.

I was now in the final mostly-uphill section. The dark forests of India, to my left, werejust gorgeous and wild (this is a national park). The roadside markers here are notoriously inaccurate… from the 6k to 5k marker took me 15 minutes. From 5k to 4k took 11 minutes. The uphill was too steep to run much at all, and metatarsalgia that had been building in my right foor over the last 24 hours was now very painful - not bad when the road was smooth (which was not often) but excruciating when on the hard and uneven cobblestones (which was most of the time).

I had not seen anyone the whole way back, but when I hit the 2.5k-to-go water station, Frank Rohde (Germany/USA) suddenly appeared behind me with a grin. Frank is the master of negative splits. “I was hoping to break five hours!” I called sadly.

“We still can!” he called back. “It’s all downhill from here.” Hmm. That’s not how I remembered it.

I power-walked up the next big hill behind Frank. We were briefly relieved by a 10 m downhill section (10 horizontal meters, that is) immediately followed by another giant hill. Frank conceded that this section of the course must be uphill both directions.

Only the final few hundred m was actually downhill. Frank was ahead of me, and I could here the cheers at the finish for him as I ran this final section.A group of trekkers who had cheered us on along the course yesterday formed a salute for me as I approached the finish, standing both sides of the trail with their trekking poles raised like a tunnel for me to run through as they shouted “Bravo! Bravo!” I burst through the finish line feeling like a hero (this race is great for making every runner feeling like a hero, day after day).

Dave was huddled deep inside his down jacket at the finish, waiting for me. He’d been in for 40 minutes, and blood was oozing from his left knee. “I over-ran,” he said. He limped beside me as we headed to the soup hut.

David Fontaine (France) and Jas Saghera (UK) finished together today in 3:26. Stu Cox (Australia) faded after I saw them, and ended up in third place, 12 minutes behind them. Matko Vidosevich (Argentina) was 4th, and Anna Petrakos (Australia) was 5th and first female. I finished in 5:01 - ALMOST made my goal! Most runners were in by lunchtime, but a few paced themselves conservatively by walking most of the route, finishing in between seven and eight hours.