A race where the start line was at 24 km!

If I don’t celebrate my failures, do I have the right to celebrate my successes? That’s the reason I’m writing this blog. Because every race has a start line, and this story begins right here.

The thing about having a strong intuition is, when things are going to be bad, somewhere in your heart you accept it, but outwardly, the denial is there, you fight your intuition, until you are proven right. And when things are going to turn out fine, you know in your gut that’s it's going to be all right, but you don’t want to accept it, because somehow mind is more tuned to be surprised at how good things can happen to you.

If you see me worried, you need to worry too. If I am fine, the world is fine. That’s how it has been with me since childhood.

18^th January 2026, the moment I woke up, I just knew something is off. 

Who knew I would have one of the most eventful days of my life. Not just about runs, but the chronicles of events which followed the run :D

Let’s begin from the beginning-

17^th January 2026 – A Day before the run

We started from Pune at around 8:30 am, hired a private cab with three of us in it. The ride was the most comfortable part of the whole trip :) I kept on sipping my electrolytes every now and then, going by the book.

Reached at the expo around 11:30 ish. Once out of the lovely Pune weather and out of the AC Cab, I am welcomed by Mumbai’s not so cool air.

Expo is overcrowded with runners as its last day; the crowd was buzzing. The sweat has started trickling down my back, something which I don’t experience in Pune. Goal was to collect the BIB asap and get the hell out of there.

Posing with my BIB

Post our BIB collection, went to the nearest Metro stations, a walk of around a km, and we reached Hutatma Chowk. Had the most sumptuous Kerala meal (Sadhya), another best part of the trip 😊 and post that since the hotel was less than a km away from the restaurant, we decided to walk down.

Around 3ish we reach the hotel (more of a girl’s hostel), located at a very good prominent location.

On reaching, we are greeted by the most disinterested, bored receptionist ever. Before we could say anything, she was keen on warding us off like an evil eye.

My roommate shows her the booking details, but she denies saying they never got the information from the third-party aggregator through which we did the booking.

Okay! Hell is about to break loose in my head.

Then the ordeal began to call the company through which we booked and being a middleman between the receptionist and them

Eventually the whole drama got concluded after around 50 minutes and we finally got our room at 4 pm. For the whole 50 minutes we were on our feet, looking at each other reminding that we are not supposed to be on our feet for so long :D

But winning the war with the receptionist was more important

Now, in all this chaos, right after coming off from cab till hostel, I didn’t really drink much water.

That’s my strike 1

As it is with every room in Mumbai, they are just so small, existing to do the bare minimum in life, I told my roommate, I don’t want to be cooped up here whole evening, let's go to GOI (Gate of India) as its very close by. We both agreed and took a small power nap before we headed out in the evening.

Post a small meet and greet with other runners at the GOI, we had a light meal of khichdi and aloo at Madras café and returned to our hostel, calling it a day at 9 pm.

Overall water intake throughout the day was less than 1.5 litre.

Strike 2.

I realised this when at the middle of the night I got a slight cramp on my calves.

Sunday- January 18^th, 2026

I woke up at 3:30 and was ready to leave for the venue by 4:10.

As we entered the ground and started walking towards our wave, the feeling in me that something is off kept on growing. I even told my running partner “I don’t feel like running today. I want to go home”

The corral was packed, air felt heavy. I stuck to the sides where I could breathe better.

Strength was shaking but spirit was still high

I crossed the start line at around 5:12 am. Plan was simple. Start slow, gradually pick up pace. First 6 km went as planned.

But within 2–3 km, my face was flushed, heat literally radiating.

Strike 3

Not a good sign. I kept stopping to cool down, and every time I did, I’d get chills and goosebumps. Classic sign that my body was not ready.

Still continued with the plan and completed first 6 km at the pace of 6:28km/hr

By the time it was 8 km, I realised I won’t be able to keep up this pace, so I slowed down and continued further. I kept on splashing water on my face to keep it cool.

Then we reached the coastal route and the sea link. Every km here felt like a struggle.

When tears had more salt than the sea below

The mind game began, the calculations began, should I or should I not.

In between, I kicked so beautifully a water bottle lying in front of me, that it flew and hit straight into the legs of a runner who must be 30-40 meters ahead of me.

I was super impressed by myself, coz I cannot kick. But that kick was of Ronaldo level 😊

Even a runner next to me was shocked and surprised equally. I apologised to the person who got hit and continued the struggle. I smiled for a moment 😊

Anyways, at 16^th km I had decided to quit. But I cannot jump into the sea, so had to run until we reached Mahim.

Saw bylanes, chose one of the lanes, called my mom, cried a river over the phone like my life is ruined.

I love crying, I love people who cry and let it out. It feels so good after a good cry. I cannot move on if I have not cried enough. For me crying is important, then I move on so quickly, faster than a steam vanishes from your sizzlers.

So that was my journey at TMM... 24 km out of 42 km. The numbers just got reversed 😊I was meant to run that number, just not in the right order.

Now, the stories after the run –

I stop near a taxi; the taxi driver tells me the run is happening that side. I look at him and say “I know, I am coming from there only, will you drop me to CSMT”

He agrees, and I go and sit and first time enjoy the Mumbai air against my face.

He drops me near CSMT and I take out my phone to pay him. He declares “only cash mam”. I panicked for a second, but the Mumbaikar in him came out. The kindness and warmth they show is of different level. He said “its ok, leave it”,

Sweet, but I cannot leave it. I saw a small snack centre nearby, asked them to give me cash in return I will Google pay them.

Perfect transaction. Cab driver happy, I am happy and now I just want to go the ground and meet my friends and cry more.

Once I reached Azad Maidan, I realised I don’t see runners with blue bibs ( Blue bibs was for Full marathoners), I only see red Bibs.

I call our speedster, Amit Lahekar, as I know he would have completed his run long back and he informs me that the location for full marathon finish is different.

Okay! More walk that means. I ask some officials and they guide me to the full marathon finish ground.

I reach there, but they were not allowing me to enter. Friends and families not allowed they said. I explained to them that I am a runner and I just need to reunite with my group.

But they were following the protocol to the T, were not ready to listen or understand.

Then one of the security personnel tells me, you go straight and then take a right and then enter from other side.

I kind of figured what he was trying to say, but I wanted to check out myself.

And yes, I was right. He diverted me towards the finish line 😊

I walked until I found a gap to join the runners, I ran last 400 meters to the finish line and collected my so undeserving medal. Will never flaunt it though.

I found this so funny. In all my honestly and ethics I was avoiding collecting the medal, I just wanted to reach the ground, but if that is the only way to meet my friends then be it!

I finally reached the ground!!

I posted about DNF on my Instagram story and my DM’s were filled with so many messages giving me confidence and validating my decision. I am truly overwhelmed by all the love and support you all showed me in the messages.

Talking to all of you and specially with some of the seniors I realised couple of mistakes which made me witness this day. More than lack of proper hydration the day before, it was the lack of expectation setting.

I knew I wouldn’t race all out because Tokyo is coming up in a few weeks. But then what was my finish pace? What was the actual plan? I never had that conversation with anyone experienced. I went in blind.

I’ve never run with handbrakes on, and that’s exactly what I was supposed to do. I should have expected to feel sluggish and bored at slower pace on race day… but that was the smart thing to do.

Lesson learnt. Hard way. But learnt.

Picture abhi baaki hai mere dost!

This race didn’t go the way I imagined, but it didn’t take away what I’ve built, what I’ve trained for, or what I’m capable of. If anything, it reminded me how much I want it. Tokyo is around the corner, and I’m walking into it wiser, calmer, and with a lot more respect for my body. This wasn’t the end of the story... just a very dramatic plot twist before the real chapter begins.

**“I came home to a warm hug from my daughter, who very innocently and nonchalantly asked me,‘Mamma, since you didn’t finish your run, you must have saved two gels… can I have them?’

That was enough to humble me and bring me back to the real world. I love her.” ❤️**