NMDC Hyderabad Marathon 2026

As I’ve said before, every running event I’ve participated in has been unique. Each one has left me with a different experience, a different story, and, invariably, a different lesson.

This Sunday, 30th August 2026, was no different.

I became one among roughly 30,000 runners at the 15th Edition of the NMDC Hyderabad Marathon.

I participated in the 10K run - so, technically, I did not run a marathon. But that is the name of the event, so I’ll happily borrow the glamour!

And yes, this was my second 10K of the year.

So, what made this event special?

The sheer magnitude. 30,000 runners.

From Hyderabad. From different cities across India. And from other countries too.

Of these, around 10,000 runners were participating in the 10K alone.

Until now, the running events I had participated in had relatively small BiB expos - usually a counter tucked away inside a store in a mall, perhaps with a few discount coupons thrown in.

This was an entirely different experience.

The Race Expo was a proper expo.

A huge exhibition hall. Multiple counters for Bib collection for the 5K, 10K, 21K and 42K. Numerous brands. Event partners. Charity organisations. Engagement activities.

Basically, a place where you could easily spend a couple of hours…

…and a lot of money!

Several major brands with a presence in India had their stalls - Asics, Fast&Up, The Whole Truth, VitaminBe, Athlos, Luxury Personified, State of Joy, Oakley, and many more.

There were people to talk to, products to explore, activities to participate in, and stories to discover.

It was a three-day event.

Day 1: Opening of the Expo

Day 2: 5K for Wheelchair Warriors, 5K for Disabled Runners, 5K for Regular Runners + Day 2 of the Expo

Day 3: 10K, 21K and 42K

Some friends from my society participated in the 5K, and they absolutely rocked it. I didn't get to witness their runs firsthand, but I saw their photographs, followed their updates on social media, and heard their excitement.

And the Wheelchair Warriors and Disabled Runners?

They were every bit as enthusiastic and determined as the rest of us.

That is one of the things I love about running events.

I can run within my own little community. I can run around my neighbourhood. But events like these allow me to witness hundreds of stories of courage, enthusiasm, determination and endurance.

And every single one of those stories adds something to my own.

But Day 2 wasn't easy for me.

Ironically, the day before my run - which should have been filled with excitement - was pretty bad.

The Expo was great.

Things at home weren't.

I was highly demotivated and genuinely torn between giving up the run and going ahead.

This is something I know about myself: things and people around me affect me deeply.

For almost half of Day 2, I couldn't concentrate on anything.

And then, sometime in the evening, I simply pushed myself out of bed.

I started preparing for the next morning.

And somewhere in my head, I kept telling myself:

"Why should I quit now? I've literally been waiting for this event for more than six months."

"If some people have a problem with my running, that's their problem. Not mine."

"Running is slowly becoming my passion and a part of my life. They don't have to understand it."

And that was it.

I stopped debating with myself.

I got up. I got everything ready.  My clothes. My shoes. Everything I would need.

I was going.

Sometimes, a friend is the blessing you didn't know you needed.

There was another reason I felt a little more confident about going.

My friend Luxmi Priya and her family had also registered for the 10K.

I had almost assumed they wouldn't make it because they hadn't been doing very well health-wise. And honestly, I was nervous about going alone.

This was my first run where the starting point and finishing point were different. The logistics of reaching the venue, figuring out what to do after the run, getting back to where I would have parked my car - all of that was making me nervous.

Then, on the morning of Day 2, Priya messaged me.

They were going. And I could join them. It felt like a blessing.

And Priya didn't stop there.

She literally took care of me through the event.

She checked on me during the run, stayed within sight, and after I finished, she held my hand and walked with me all the way to the Exit Gate.

I know I would have managed without her.

But having her there made a huge difference.

Sometimes you don't need someone to run for you.

You just need someone to make you feel that you're not running alone.

And for that, Priya, I will always be grateful.

Now, THE RUN!

I had already decided my strategy.

Plains and gentle slopes? Run.

Steep slopes? Walk.

My target was to finish within the cut-off of 1 hour 45 minutes.

But I had also made peace with another possibility.

This was only my second-ever 10K.

I knew I might need a few more 10Ks to build my pace and stamina. So yes, I would try to finish within the cut-off.

But if I didn't? That would be okay too. I had to remind myself that finishing was already an achievement.

And then I started running.

The route itself brought back little pieces of my life.

I crossed my old office building.

I crossed the CARE Hospital, where our son was born.

I passed the Chaayos outlet where Prema and I usually end up after our running events - for a cup of refreshing tea and some breakfast!

And then came the highlight for me: the flyover.

I've run on slopes and steep stretches before.

But running—or rather, walking—across a flyover?

That was a first.

Another little first to add to my running journey.

And then came the familiar battle.

Like my first 10K, things started getting difficult after around 7.5 kilometres.

One part of my foot started hurting - the area where the shoelaces rest. I still don't know the technical name for it, but I know exactly how much it hurt!

And then came the last kilometre. Torture.

Every step seemed longer than the previous one.

But then…

I saw the finish line.

And suddenly, the pain didn't matter as much.

That feeling of crossing the finish line? Pure satisfaction.

And, more importantly, reassurance. I did it.

Again.

And then came the post-run reality.

I wanted breakfast. The breakfast queue had other plans. It was ridiculously long.

Then we had to figure out how to get back to the starting point, where our car was parked. The shuttle buses seemed to be nowhere to be found, and the crowd was getting bigger and bigger.

Eventually, we boarded a shared auto.

And when I finally sat inside the car… Bliss. Absolute bliss.

I don't think a comfortable car seat has ever felt this luxurious.

As always, a few friends were waiting for my update.

The moment I messaged them that I had finished, the congratulatory messages started pouring in.

And honestly, those messages feel good. Not because I need validation for running 10K. But because it feels wonderful to know that people are cheering for you, even when they aren't physically there.

I missed my celebrity spotting.

There was one more thing I had wanted to do.

I wanted to watch a few of the Full Marathon runners finish - especially Sarthak Malani, whom I had hoped to spot because of his unique running style (he runs backwards. This time he was to run 42K wearing barefoot-socks, backwards).

But by then, it was crowded. It was late. And I was exhausted.

I could have gone to the 42K endpoint, but I had no idea whether Sarthak had already finished, and frankly, I wasn't sure I had enough energy left to go looking for him!

So, celebrity spotting will have to wait.

Maybe 2027.

And finally, the part that bothered me the most.

Some people will never understand running. They will continue to wonder why we pay money to run.

Why we train.

Why we worry about hydration.

Why we think about what to eat.

Why we collect running gear.

Why we wake up ridiculously early.

Why we put our bodies through what sometimes feels like torture…

…and then proudly announce that we ran 5K, 10K, 21K or 42K.

I have heard enough of it.

And this time, it bothered me more than usual.

But you know what? I'm done explaining.

If someone thinks my running is stupid, so be it.

If someone thinks I'm being irresponsible, so be it.

If someone doesn't understand why I would wake up early on a Sunday morning to run 10 kilometres, that's okay. They don't have to understand.

Because running is simply another passion.

I'm not a world-class runner.

I'm not chasing podium finishes or records.

I'm not even particularly fast.

But I am passionate about it.

And I have my own reasons for running.

Maybe running gives someone else something completely different. Maybe it's peace. Maybe it's fitness. Maybe it's a challenge. Maybe it's therapy. Maybe it's community.

For me, it's slowly becoming a part of who I am.

So if you understand that, appreciate it and cheer me on—Thank you.

If you don't? My bad. It's okay. I'm still running.

And as I write this, I'm already looking forward to—

NMDC Hyderabad Marathon 2027.

Who knows?

Maybe the next one will bring another first. Maybe another lesson. Maybe another story.

But one thing is certain.

I'm not quitting. Not now.