Random hits on the keyboard

Okay, okay! I know what you are thinking. You are thinking that I am thinking of nothing else but running. Many of my blogs are about running. And you wouldn’t be entirely wrong—though not entirely right either. Currently, many things are going on. Pre-festive office work and end-of-year deadlines have piled up with their own urgency. Feast and festivals arrive one after another, and the kids, with their homework and their deadlines, are priorities among the priorities. And yet, somewhere between all of this, I managed to steal a few hours for myself, to have a long run on the weekend. This week, I chose to continue where I left last week, Tika Bhairav - Dakchankali route.  I started running from home toward Tika Bhairav, and picking up the trail from where I had left it last time. By then, I had already covered about 11 kilometres. From there, I joined the trail running route of the Manjushree Valley Rim. Compared to last week, the hills felt gentler (or maybe I am stronger). The ...

This weekend added another chapter to my trail-running diary; interesting, not exactly adventurous, that stays with me long after the run is over. I explored a section of the Kathmandu Valley Rim (KVR), the stretch from Godawari to Tika Bhairav, which also forms part of the Kathmandu Ultra trail route. I intended to scale up to Dakchinkali, but I have to end at Tika Bhairav. After a short bus ride to Taukhel, Godawari, the fun began. I followed a route suggested by the maps.me app, which led me to what was supposed to be the “starting point.” Instead, I found nothing more than a faint footpath brushing through patches of grass. It looked nothing like a starting point; there were no signboards, no gate, no welcome arch, just a small trail gently insisting that I trust it. So, I trusted the map and stepped in. After a few minutes, the first mark appeared: two horizontal lines carved onto a tree trunk—the KVR symbol. A small relief. Then more marks followed, like clues in a treasure hunt:...

I ran to Chitlang this weekend. Technically, Chitlang is only 13.14 km from my home, I mean, aerial distance. The actual road distance is about 24 km , and the road goes straight over Chandragiri Hill, which is 2,551 meters high . (Yes, only.) It was a cold, stubbornly chilly morning. I had planned to run the whole route from my doorstep, but then I looked at my trail running shoes with genuine sympathy. They’re built for mud, rocks, and mischief—not 10 km of paved road punishment. So I hopped on a bus up to Naikab . The bus was packed with morning vegetable vendors. I squeezed myself between sacks of cauliflower and piles of leafy greens. It was still dark outside, but for them, the day was already late. I got off in Naikab , inhaled deeply, and started my run toward Matatirtha . The route welcomed me with a brutal uphill right from Matatirtha . As I trudged and jogged upward, the dawn slowly took pity on me and began lighting the trail. The Himalayas in the north were also waking ...