Thoughts on leaving India

I’d come to India, not knowing much about its culture, history or people, and to be honest it wasn’t a country that I had thought much about until now. I had no romantic notions about days of the Raj, of spiritual pilgrimages or holy men bathing in mystical rivers, I’d simply come to run, to test myself in some of the harshest conditions on the planet and to be amongst some of the highest mountains. But bit by bit India had slowly, but surely captured my heart and by saturday i was wishing that i could have stayed a little longer.

The entire week had been incredibly intense from start to finish. I’d met the most incredible people, seen the most incredible sights, and done the most incredible things. Somewhere along the way, i’d discovered a different me, a me that i’d not seen for a while, a younger me, a happier me, a me that found new experiences and new adventures at every turn.

I don’t think that i realised how intense the week had been, until i was on the plane, half way home and half asleep, sitting in the dark with the inflight movie playing and tears in my eyes. I’m not normally the kind of personal that gets emotional and i very rarely cry, in fact i can’t even remember the last time i shed a tear. And I’m not sure whether they were tears of joy to be on my way home to Lucinda, tears or sorrow for having to say goodbye to India and the new friends i’d made there or even tears of relieve for having completed in the challenge i’d spend 9 months training for, but there were tears.

Leaving India was proving to be a bittersweet experience, it had been an adventure of a lifetime, an adventure that had changed me, and an adventure that would stay with me for the rest of my life, but it was at an end. At least for now.