By Sundeep Misra

Hari Chand and Shivnath Singh would be sipping tea and discussing Gulveer, working out the splits, amazed that within seconds every lap can be discussed threadbare.

My few interactions with Hari Chand were more a lesson in humility than about the 5k and 10k. We had once invited him to the Ekamra Sports Film Festival as the chief guest, and when we approached him at his house near Saket, he was taken aback that someone still remembered him and was inviting him. A lot of people who had come for the festival, obviously, had no clue who he was. Only when his achievements were listed out did they understand that they were standing with royalty.

Hari Chand finished 8th in the 10,000m heats at the ’76 Montreal Olympics in a timing of 28:48.7—a time that would have given him 14th spot in Glasgow yesterday. That time stood for 32 years as the National Record until Surendra Singh beat it. And Gulveer later beating Surendra Singh’s record beautifully illustrates how a baton is passed down the generations. Hari Chand also won the ’78 Asian Games double of 5000m and 10,000m.

Shivnath Singh was a classic runner. People who knew him say that with today’s tools available, he would have been a top six marathon runner in the world; his legendary marathon record (2:12:00) lasted for 48 years before being broken by Sawan Barwal on April 12, 2026, in Rotterdam (2:11:58). At two consecutive Asian Championships in ’73 and ’75, he won silver in the 5000m and 10,000m. At ’75 Seoul, Hari Chand had taken the 10,000m gold in 29:12.0, with Shivnath following right behind in 29:14.6.

On a day when Gulveer has made India step inside the hallowed portals of long-distance running with a CWG silver, it’s always good to remember those who showed the way, running barefoot with a stopwatch as their only tool and data provider.

During our conversation, Hari Chand had also disclosed that he once had an offer from the University of Nevada for an athletics scholarship. “I couldn’t speak English and I didn’t know where Nevada was,” he said. “They pursued me till 1980 and then gave up.” Gulveer now trains in Colorado.

Hari Chand loved his tea. He hated those dip teas, and I had offered him just that in the café where we sat discussing ’75, ’76, and the ’80 Moscow Olympics.

“The best tea was in my village in Ghorewaha (Hoshiarpur, Punjab),” he told me. “It kept simmering to blend in with milk and tea leaves and gave off an aroma that could awaken a dead man.”

Hopefully, Gulveer’s silver will awaken a nation to the joys of distance running.