For the first time in over 16 months, I found myself at the starting line of a race once again, and just like my last official race it was a 100 Miler organized by Bhasin sports. This time it was the Jarakabande Eco Ultra 2025 held in the serene Avalahalli State Forest.
The past year had been
marked by inconsistent training, and my confidence had taken a hit. But two
self-supported marathons—the Virtual TMM 2025 and another on my birthday,
February 10th—helped me regain my belief.
When I shared my plan to run this race, eight runners from
my group decided to join me. They all preferred running on Saturday instead of
the scheduled Sunday, and after discussing with Ankur, we made the necessary
arrangements.
However, what none of us anticipated was how brutally hot
Bangalore would get. March usually has warm but bearable weather, yet this
time, an unexpected heatwave had taken over, making running during the daytime
extremely difficult. As we stood at the start line at 6 AM, the air already
felt warmer than usual, and I knew this was going to be a battle against not
just distance but also the elements.
The course involved 5 km loops inside Avalahalli State Forest, each with a 71-meter elevation gain. After 6 PM, due to forest restrictions, we had to switch to 1 km loops. The name ‘Jarakabande’ in Kannada means slippery rocks, and staying true to its name, nearly 20% of the ultra runners slipped on Saturday.
I started off conservatively, and just as I finished my first loop, my friends began their run at 6:30 AM. I kept my pace steady, hiking the tough section between the 2nd and 3rd km. Throughout the morning, I kept crossing paths with Ravi, Loki, Vinay, Richa, Ramaiah, and Sarath, which was reassuring. After five loops, I took a short breakfast break. Around the 30 km mark, Babu Sir arrived. I met Ravi who was starting his 6th and final loop and ran a couple of KMs with him. He was eager to finish quickly so blazed past me, while I focused on conserving my energy for what promised to be a long and grueling day.
By mid-morning, the sun was blazing, and the forest provided
little relief. The heat was unbearable, draining my energy much faster than
expected. Even a small effort made my body overheat, and I was sweating
profusely. The hydration strategy had to change completely—I started drinking a
full glass of electrolyte or water every single kilometer just to keep myself
going. The thought of dehydration or heatstroke loomed over me with every loop.
By the time I completed nine loops (45 km), all my friends
had finished their runs. We took some pictures, and I bid farewell to them and
Babu Sir. As I stood there alone, anxiety crept in. The next stretch felt
uncertain, and it must have been visible on my face because before leaving, Babu Sir asked, “Do
you really want to run 100 miles?” It was a valid question.
Standing there alone, with the sun only getting harsher, I realized this wasn’t going to be just about endurance—it was about survival. The hot, dry air made every breath feel heavier, and the forest, which I had hoped would provide some shade, did little to protect us from the scorching sun. Even after refueling at aid stations, the exhaustion would return within minutes. Each time I completed a loop, stepping back into the forest for another round felt mentally excruciating. I managed to complete 17 loops of 5 km before the 6 PM cut-off, but by then, the damage had been done.
At 100 km, reached around 8 PM, my body was wrecked. The
intense heat had drained my energy reserves, and my quads were screaming from
the relentless elevation gain. Sitting down for even two minutes caused my
muscles to stiffen up like bricks. After reaching 105 km, I took dinner and lay
down for 15 minutes. Restarting was painful, but I forced myself to move again.
I called Babu Sir while eating and promised to update him at 120 km.
The night brought some relief from the heat, but the
accumulated exhaustion made things worse. Somehow, I managed a walk-run
strategy and reached 120 km around midnight. But as soon as I hit that
milestone, my motivation plummeted. I took a physio break, hoping for some
relief, but it only made things worse. From 120 km to 140 km was sheer misery.
The mental fatigue was overpowering the physical exhaustion, and even a
30-minute nap (which turned into 40 minutes) didn’t help. Frustrated, I slapped
myself twice to snap out of it.
At 130 km, Praveen Sir completed his race. Five kilometers
later, Sateesh Ji finished, after that he started walking alongside Sangeetha. I decided to walk with
them until I reached 140 km. He was ready to continue for a few more
kilometers, but I knew I needed to push beyond the mental resistance, so I
insisted on getting back to a walk-run rhythm. To my surprise, I was able to do
three sets of 3 km each, and by then, shorter-distance races had begun.
Encouraged by this, I continued for two more sets of 3 km and reached 155 km. Instead
of taking the easier 1 km loops to finish, I decided to experience the forest
trail one last time.
I soaked in the memories of the 17 loops I had completed the
previous day, taking a moment to thank all the volunteers at both aid stations.
With only 1 km left to reach 100 miles, I finished it effortlessly, feeling a
deep sense of satisfaction. After the run, Sushil Sir asked me to have
breakfast and wait for a bit until the 5 km runners finished. I had a friendly
chat with Satish Ji, Sangeetha, and Gurleen before being awarded the medal and
trophy by Sushil Sir—the same way it had happened when I won the Hennur100-miler in October 2023 and secured the 100 km runner-up position in October
2021.
This race turned out to be more challenging than the 100-miler at Border Ultra. The relentless heat, the elevation gain in every loop, and the sheer mental effort required made it one of the toughest ultra-runs I’ve ever done. A big thank you to Sushil Sir and Ankur for organizing this fantastic event, to all the running friends I met along the way.
Last but not the least, a big shout out to my boys Ravi, Loki, Sarath, Vinay and Babu sir who always kept a tab on my progress. This journey was a battle of mind and body, and I’m grateful for every moment of it.