Running Through the Infinite: My White Sand Ultra Experience

Thirteen years, 80+ races, terrains that have tested my limits—from the heights of Khardung La, the heights of the Everest Basecamp to the sands of Jaisalmer. But nothing prepared me for the surreal challenge that awaited at the inaugural edition of the White Sand Ultra.

I signed up in October, lured by the promise of my first 100K and a tempting 25% discount. Then, in between, the Border 100K happened—a triumphant comeback to long-distance racing. But by February, the reality of White Sand Ultra dawned on me: only eight weeks to train. My coach and I stood at the threshold—should I, or shouldn’t I? Training never hurts, right? Until it does.

An aborted 60K at a meager 32K training run left me riddled with self-doubt. But a strong 40K run on the first day of March, marking a Celebration Milestone, reignited my spirit. Meanwhile, life threw its own storms my way—emotional turbulence, personal betrayals, sleepless nights, and nutrition spiraling out of control. I decided not to race!

Then, March 18th came, and I chose to break free - Enough was Enough! No more dwelling in turmoil—I booked my tickets and accommodations in a heartbeat. The journey to the start line was a marathon in itself: bus, flight, train, taxi—16+ hours. Yet, as the ultra community always does, I found my tribe, sharing travel and laughter, easing the nerves.

My first stop? The Road to Heaven. The sight of the endless salt plains took my breath away—a single tear rolled down my cheek. I sent a picture to my mother, knowing she, too, had never witnessed such a landscape. Despite not being a tourist, I couldn’t resist renting a vibrant Kutch attire, adding a splash of color to the stark white.

Tropic of Cancer

Road to Heaven

The White Sand aka Salt Expanse

Bringing in the colour

The Road to Heaven

White Sands or Salts - Where the sky kisses the earth

Being Touristy - the Kutch way

Dholavira’s Harappan civilization pulled me back in time & into my history books at school. The intricacies of its excavation and infrastructure fascinated me. But my mind drifted—less than 24 hours, and I’d be running from this very place, chasing the setting sun.

Sunset at Sunset Point

The Race: A Test Beyond Running : White Sand Ultra

Sleep evaded me the night before the race. A gut feeling of unease gnawed at my core. Then, at 8:24 AM morning of the race, my phone buzzed with a message that shattered me. No tears—just tremors. My hands fumbled while packing my drop bags. Even lacing my shoes felt like a task. Tea, deep breaths—nothing calmed me. I skipped breakfast, barely swallowing two spoonfuls of khichdi, and made my way to the start line at 4 PM.

Vishwas, the race director, had his signature humor intact during the briefing. A brilliant mind, a stellar team. But as the countdown began, I braced for what lay ahead.

Start Line - 4pm - 40degrees

Breaking down the White Sand Ultra 100K into parts:

0-16K: The Fiery Start

Dholavira’s terrain showed no mercy. The heat soared past 40°C. My legs felt like lead by the 6K mark. Pace slowed to 8 min/km. The unforgiving elevation, the relentless sun—it was brutal.

The White Sand Ultra

The White Sand Ultra

17K-47K: The Road to Heaven

The race truly began. A straight 31K stretch of pure salt, the air heavy with sodium. Hydration stations every 7K were lifelines. The sun torched us until 7:30 PM, and then, the wind arrived. Hallucinations crept in—many runners faltered under the sodium effect. I stayed sharp—orange slices with salt, constant hydration, moving forward.

Then, the night sky opened up—constellations shimmering above, a surreal moment. Running turned meditative. I soaked in the beauty and let the rhythm of my breath guide me.

Road to Heaven

The White Sand Ultra

The White Sand Ultra

The White Sand Ultra

The White Sand Ultra

48K-50K: Halfway and Refuel

I reached the 50K mark in 6 hours and 50 minutes. Refueled. The real challenge was about to begin.

A lot behind the smile...

Refuel as much as you can

50K-71K: The Jungle Stretch

A pitch-black jungle trail. Zero visibility. Two guardian angels—Amisha and Ajay—pacing me through. A disciplined 600m run, 400m walk strategy. They were tackling a 100-miler, yet their energy was unwavering.

71K-74K: The Bhuj Highway Nightmare

The stretch turned nasty. Stray dogs lurked. Ajay took a short break. Amisha stayed, a pillar of strength & company in solitude.

75K-100K: The Most Dangerous Battle

The toughest segment. A desolate highway at 2:30 AM, heavy trucks roaring past with blinding high beams. No patrol, no safety. Many runners stumbled off the road—repeatedly. Frustration mounted. My legs were fresh, but was it worth the risk?

Caffeine gels and cola kept me alert. The finish line felt distant. Yet, with every sunrise comes hope. The moment my headlamp flicked off at dawn, the race felt within reach.

14 hours earlier, it seemed impossible. Now, it was mine to conquer.

Mind heavy, heart heavier, but legs ready—I ran towards the medal that wasn’t just a race finish, but a triumph over everything I had endured.

My Night Running partners - Ajay and Amisha

Bliss of Watching the Finish line closing in

Finisher Medal

Lessons Beyond the Finish Line

Ultra running isn’t just about physical endurance—it’s a test of the mind, a lesson in resilience. It teaches you to endure discomfort, push through self-doubt, and embrace the grind even when your body screams for rest.

In life and in business, there will be moments where the road is long, the path uncertain, and exhaustion sets in. But just like in an ultra, the key is to keep moving forward—one step, one decision at a time. You hydrate, you fuel, you lean on your support system when needed, and you remind yourself why you started.

Running the White Sand Ultra 100K with the Hell Race wasn’t just about the race; it was about proving to myself that no matter how hard the journey, I have what it takes to finish strong.... And so do you....

Finisher Medal