White Sand Ultra (135 Miles)

Prelude: The Path to Madness
It all began at the finish line of TMM 2024. Despite completing the race in 4 hours and 7 minutes, it wasn’t the time that bothered me but rather how I struggled to cross the line. “What’s next?” became the question that haunted me. I made several conscious lifestyle changes and revamped my training schedule, setting my sights on Border (100 miles) and another race exceeding 200 kilometers.

Introduction
As I sit to pen down the experience of White Sand Ultra, which happened a week ago, the feeling is surreal. The blistering heat, endless roads, and moments of both despair and triumph have left an indelible mark on my soul. This is the story of how I pushed my limits across 135 miles of unforgiving terrain, and what I discovered about myself along the way.

Initially, I planned to participate in Hennur Bamboo Ultra (220 kms) but had to downgrade to the 100 kms category due to a knee injury the week before the event. Then, as if by divine intervention, the registration for White Sand Ultra opened shortly after. I was amongst the first ones to register for the event, with Bib No: 7 – my sisters birth date, proving to be lucky.

Race Preparation
After completing the Border Ultra (100 miles) in December 2024, I methodically increased my mileage in preparation for WSU. My training progressed well until the Tata Mumbai Marathon, as my schedule faced a significant setback when multiple illnesses forced a training pause from late January through mid-February.

Upon recovery, I carefully rebuilt my base mileage, incorporating afternoon runs on weekends to build heat tolerance. While Bengaluru’s afternoon heat seemed beneficial for training, it proved significantly milder compared to the conditions awaiting me in Bhuj. As part of my final preparation, I participated in the Jarakabande Eco Ultra, covering 100 kilometers, two weeks before the event. This served as both a long training run and an additional heat adaptation opportunity.

The Journey Begins: Travel to Dholavira
The ultra-running journey begins well before the actual race, with travel logistics presenting their own unique challenges. My route to Dholavira required multiple transitions: first flying from Bengaluru to Ahmedabad, followed by a bus journey to Bhuj. After spending one night in Bhuj, I shared a cab with other runners for the final leg to Dholavira. This multi-stage journey highlighted how reaching the race location itself can be as demanding as preparing for the run.

Day Before the Race
The day before the race, I and a few fellow runners embarked on a 4 kms walk from our lodging to the bib collection point at 4 PM. This walk served a dual purpose: to test our resilience in the evening heat and to mentally prepare for the upcoming challenge.

Following this, we took some time to appreciate the local scenery, visiting a sunset viewpoint for sightseeing and to capture some pre-race memories. This combination of practical preparation and moments of relaxation helped balance our focus as we approached the start of the ultramarathon.

Before retiring for the day, I prepared my drop bags (details of contents in appendix) to be submitted to the race organizers, carefully considering what I would need at each aid station throughout the long journey ahead.

Race Day Morning
On the morning of the race, I awoke filled with nervous anticipation, the culmination of months of preparation finally at hand. After breakfast, I attempted to get some additional rest, knowing sleep would be scarce in the coming days. Though not entirely restful, I managed to doze off for a while.

Around 1 PM, I had lunch and then changed into my race gear, mentally transitioning into race mode. The organizers provided transportation from our lodging to Evoke hotel, where the pre-race briefing was scheduled. At 3 PM, the Race Director gave a briefing for all race categories. Typically, I would take notes on course directions, but this time I found myself without a pen. Instead of worrying, I left it to “Bhagwan and Hell Race (organizers) bharose” with a backup of their GPX file loaded in my mobile.

The Race Begins (0-46 kms)
The race was flagged off from sunset point at 4:20 PM on 22 March, 2025. The sun was harsh during the start, coupled with slight rolling terrain in the initial kilometers. I controlled my pace, trying to maintain my heart rate in the aerobic zone.

At around the 13 kms mark, we took a right turn towards what locals call the “Road to Heaven.” For kilometers, there was nothing on both sides of the road as it was engulfed by salt pans and Kutch Lake, with the only hope being the aid stations placed every 7 kms. After 7:30 PM, the temperature started dropping slightly, and from 9 PM onwards it became pleasant.

The major aid station was at 46 kms, which I reached at 9:20 PM (5 hours into the race). However, by this time I was experiencing severe back pain, mostly due to strain in my glutes, which came as a surprise to me. At the aid station, I stretched, changed my socks, and had dal rice, which took approximately 20 minutes.

Into the Night (47-96 kms)
Seven hours into the race, I realized that blisters were developing on my left foot. Despite this, the cooler temperatures were enabling an improved pace, and I didn’t want to stop. Ultimately, the blister popped, giving me relief from the pain.

This section followed a highway with intermittent villages, with both sides of the road encompassed by shrubs and trees. At 66 kms, we connected to another highway, and at approximately 71 kms, we took another right turn towards White Rann. After a few kilometers, this turned into a single-lane highway until the 94 kms mark.

This single lane highway broke my rhythm as I had to get down from the highway whenever a truck passed, which was frequent. In retrospect, I could have increased/ maintained my pace in this section to save on time, an area for improvement in future races. I reached the 96 kms aid station at 5 AM (12.5 hours into the race). I again stretched my glutes and back, changed my clothes, charged my watch, had dal rice, and after spending 30 minutes, headed towards my next target of 128 kms.

Morning Progress (97-128 kms)
I targeted reaching the 128-km aid station by 9:30-10:00 AM so that I could have breakfast. The favorable morning conditions helped maintain a strong pace. It even felt cold when I washed my hands with water. To prevent further chill, I covered my hands with a bandana.

It’s important to maintain humor during these grueling ultra-races, and small incidents help with this—like noticing NHAI (National Highway Authority of India) following the marking done by the Hell Race team, creating an unintentional partnership that made me smile despite the fatigue.

This aid station was at a highway junction, and I reached it at 10:30 AM (approximately 18 hours into the race). As breakfast wasn’t available, I adapted by fueling with boiled potatoes—a good source of quick energy for ultra-runners. After some motivating exchanges (with very dark humor) with the race organizers at the checkpoint, I pressed on toward the 161-km mark, maintaining focus on proper pacing and nutrition for the remaining distance.

The Heat Returns (129-161kms)
The sun beat down mercilessly as I faced the most grueling stretch of the race on Day 2. At the 132 km mark, salvation arrived in the form of a buttermilk bottle offered from the Race Directors’ car—a heavenly oasis in the scorching desert of fatigue. The change in taste was refreshing, a stark contrast to the now- unbearable electrolyte drink that had sustained me earlier.

With each step, the heat seemed to intensify. Every 10 km became a ritual—shoes off, socks peeled away, a desperate attempt to dry my feet and keep the dreaded blisters at bay. The highway stretched endlessly before me, a ribbon of shimmering asphalt with no respite in sight.

At 138 km, a kind-hearted biker offered me a lift, unaware of the internal struggle his gesture sparked. I declined, explaining the race rules, but the encounter left me with an amusing conspiracy theory—were the organizers testing our resolve with these tempting offers?

My loyal companion from 140-147 kms was an unexpected one—a stray dog, matching my pace stride for stride. Its presence was oddly comforting in the unforgiving landscape. The occasional bus stand became an oasis, offering fleeting moments of shade. Even my trusted Decathlon sunglasses (Cat 4) betrayed me, the heat turning them into instruments of discomfort against my skin. Mental note: invest in better gear for the next adventure.

As I approached the 147 km aid station, the media crew appeared like mirages. I only ran for a few meters when they were clicking photographs and taking media grabs from me. Those few meters of running felt like a performance, a stark contrast to the relentless march that had become my reality.

More fun awaited at the 149th km when we entered a trail patch (yes, a trail in a road ultra), which lasted until 155 km. A humorous sign along the path lifted my spirits, though I only ran when the media crew was photographing—a small vanity that made me laugh at myself.

Upon reaching the 157 km mark at Juna village, the route became confusing with multiple turns. I used GPX navigation to stay on course. Finally, after running solo for the entire distance, I spotted three runners ahead – a welcome sight that boosted my morale. We exchanged stories of our struggles in monosyllables, the shared experience creating an unspoken bond.

I finally reached the 161 km aid station at 4:10 PM (approximately 24 hours into the race). Due to my overtaking fellow runners, the organizers greeted me with good-natured teasing about taking shortcuts and the consequences of cheating—their humor providing a welcome break from the grueling run. I changed my clothes, had dal rice, and moved on towards the final frontier.

Road to Heaven (161-183 kms)
During this section, I implemented a run-walk strategy that helped maintain a steady pace. As sunset approached, conditions became more favorable. My goal was to reach each aid station—positioned every 7 km—within one hour, a strategy that proved successful.

Pushkar bhai (Media chief) arrived with his crew during sunset and requested a running shot for documentation. Motivated by the photo opportunity and a brief surge of energy, I accelerated to a 5-min/km pace for about 2 km, surprising even myself with this reserve of strength.

The Darkest Hours (183-204 kms)
Despite expectations of favorable nighttime running conditions, I struggled with severe cramping in my glutes and quads. My focus narrowed to one goal: reaching the T-junction beyond the Road to Heaven section.

At 192 km (29.5 hours into the race), I finally arrived at the T-junction at 9:40 PM. Baba bhai (a Race Organizer and my lucky charm), kindly helped me with some much-needed stretching. After a 20-minute rest break, I continued toward the 6 km out-and-back loop.

The Race Director warned me about reptiles and snakes on the roadside and advised me to tread cautiously. The stray dogs were another menace in this section, and carrying a stick as a deterrent helped ease my mind. I mostly walked this section of the 6 km stretch until U-turn point, as running had become impossible.

While returning, I started seeing runners on the opposite side, which was an encouraging sight, breaking the night’s solitude. I again started my run-walk strategy and reached the T-junction at 204 kms, 32 hours into the race.

The Final Miles (204 – 217 kms)
Entering the final 13 km stretch, a renewed sense of energy coursed through me as I realized completion was within reach. This section presented increased challenges with more aggressive dogs. I met the patrolling car of the Race Director, who advised running in the middle of the road to avoid potential reptile encounters.

I alternated between running and walking as I pushed towards the finish line, drawing on my last reserves
of strength. The journey reminded me of a fundamental truth in ultrarunning: the road teaches humility.

This lesson manifested at the finish line, where I arrived to find no fanfare or welcoming team. Momentarily doubting if I had reached the correct location, I checked inside the temple and found sleeping volunteers. I gently woke them to confirm my race completion.

The ultramarathon experience, with its solitary moments and quiet finish, reaffirmed that true glory in this sport lies not in external recognition but in the personal triumph of endurance and perseverance. I finally completed the race at 2:37 AM (Monday morning), 34 hours and 17 minutes after starting, finishing in 4th position overall.

Post-Race Reflections
The hydration support from the Hell Race team was exceptional, ensuring that runners were well taken care of throughout the event. Hats off to the volunteers, both mobile and fixed, as they braved the same elements as the runners while ensuring our well-being. I have massive respect for the Hell Race team, volunteers, and Race Director who were absolute legends—keeping us hydrated, fed, and safe through this incredible challenge.

After completing the race, exhaustion overwhelmed my appetite, so I skipped the post-race dinner. The organizers kindly arranged transportation back to our hotels. The following day, I began my journey from Dholavira to Bengaluru, connecting with fellow ultrarunners along the way and enriching my experience through their shared wisdom and stories.

Lessons and Future Horizons
This race taught me several valuable lessons:

1. Respect the Environment: The extreme heat of Bhuj/ Dholavira requires specialized training that even afternoon runs in Bengaluru couldn’t fully prepare me for.
2. Gear Matters: My experience with blisters and sunglasses discomfort highlighted the importance of testing equipment in similar conditions.
3. Mental Resilience: The ability to find humor and maintain focus despite physical pain proved crucial to completion.
4. Community Strength: The encouragement from fellow runners, organizers, volunteers and even a stray dog highlighted how ultrarunning, though solitary, is supported by a community.

The question “What’s next?” gnaws persistently at the back of my mind. It’s a familiar internal struggle – my heart has known the answer for years, whispering of greater challenges and new horizons. Yet, my mind counsels caution, urging patience and restraint for now.