<p>On a cold Himalayan morning she has never seen, Monika (name changed) imagines herself standing at the starting line of the Tenzing Hillary Everest Marathon, one of the toughest high-altitude races in the world. For her, reaching that line would be more than a sporting milestone; it would be a defiance of everything life once denied her.</p>.<p>If she qualifies through the Champion-In-Me run club in Bengaluru, Monika could become one of the first HIV-positive athletes to attempt this high-altitude test of endurance.</p>.<p>As we move past World AIDS Day observed on December 1, her journey remains a powerful reminder of the struggles youngsters like her face and of the unexpected doors that sport can open.</p>.Cosmos on wheels: Bringing science to classrooms.<p>“It is our dream, not just mine. I hope someone will be there to cheer for us,” Monika says, speaking to a group of people, her eyes carrying both hope and hesitation. </p>.<p>Each morning, Monika travels from Malleshwaram to Kanteerava Stadium — not chasing medals but meaning. She works at a multinational bank, a job she guards closely, knowing how others like her have lost everything once their HIV status became known. “I don’t talk about my past. There’s nothing there for me anymore,” she says. “I just want to move forward. My life is new now.”</p>.<p>“We had no one to call our own. They claimed we belonged to them, yet we never truly had a family. All we had was sport, the only thing that held us, saved us, pushed us forward,” she says, her voice steady but heavy with memories she rarely revisits.</p>.<p>She remembers the day she stood on the podium at the Tata Steel Kolkata 25K a few years back, winning the women’s 10K category, a moment that felt like reclaiming a life long dismissed.</p>.<p><strong>From a hamlet to podiums</strong></p>.<p>Monika’s story begins in a small hamlet near Bengaluru. Born with HIV, raised in stigma, surrounded by silence, her life seemed destined for erasure. But sport became the one thing that refused to let her disappear.</p>.<p>“I was 11 when Sir Elvis Joseph found me,” she recalls. “That one step changed everything.” </p>.<p>From cramped, suffocating rooms, she suddenly found herself running across open fields, discovering breath, space and dignity. Through a sports-led intervention and rehabilitation programme, she found not just training but also purpose.</p>.<p>Sixteen years ago, Elvis Joseph, a sports management professional and Founder‑Director of the Bangalore Schools Sports Foundation, walked away from a comfortable corporate career to build a sports-led rehabilitation initiative for HIV-positive children. </p>.<p>‘Champion-in-Me’ began with just 20 children in Karnataka. Today, more than 3,000 have been mainly trained in athletics and football. A programme that set out to reshape sport into a source of community upliftment now nurtures children who carry identity, confidence and ambition.</p>.<p>Some have competed at the Children’s Olympics in the Netherlands. Some have run the Boston Marathon. Others have travelled to the Gold Coast. Each step is proof that stigma can be outrun when someone gives you the shoes.</p>.<p>“These kids are vulnerable,” Elvis says. “And ironically, our country still has no plan for them.”</p>.<p>This year, three more young athletes will attempt the Everest Marathon alongside Monika — each carrying a story the world once refused to hear.</p>.<p>For Monika, the path ahead is simple in its clarity: keep running, keep climbing, keep believing. Every stride is a step away from the darkness she was born into and a step toward the life she is determined to create.</p>
<p>On a cold Himalayan morning she has never seen, Monika (name changed) imagines herself standing at the starting line of the Tenzing Hillary Everest Marathon, one of the toughest high-altitude races in the world. For her, reaching that line would be more than a sporting milestone; it would be a defiance of everything life once denied her.</p>.<p>If she qualifies through the Champion-In-Me run club in Bengaluru, Monika could become one of the first HIV-positive athletes to attempt this high-altitude test of endurance.</p>.<p>As we move past World AIDS Day observed on December 1, her journey remains a powerful reminder of the struggles youngsters like her face and of the unexpected doors that sport can open.</p>.Cosmos on wheels: Bringing science to classrooms.<p>“It is our dream, not just mine. I hope someone will be there to cheer for us,” Monika says, speaking to a group of people, her eyes carrying both hope and hesitation. </p>.<p>Each morning, Monika travels from Malleshwaram to Kanteerava Stadium — not chasing medals but meaning. She works at a multinational bank, a job she guards closely, knowing how others like her have lost everything once their HIV status became known. “I don’t talk about my past. There’s nothing there for me anymore,” she says. “I just want to move forward. My life is new now.”</p>.<p>“We had no one to call our own. They claimed we belonged to them, yet we never truly had a family. All we had was sport, the only thing that held us, saved us, pushed us forward,” she says, her voice steady but heavy with memories she rarely revisits.</p>.<p>She remembers the day she stood on the podium at the Tata Steel Kolkata 25K a few years back, winning the women’s 10K category, a moment that felt like reclaiming a life long dismissed.</p>.<p><strong>From a hamlet to podiums</strong></p>.<p>Monika’s story begins in a small hamlet near Bengaluru. Born with HIV, raised in stigma, surrounded by silence, her life seemed destined for erasure. But sport became the one thing that refused to let her disappear.</p>.<p>“I was 11 when Sir Elvis Joseph found me,” she recalls. “That one step changed everything.” </p>.<p>From cramped, suffocating rooms, she suddenly found herself running across open fields, discovering breath, space and dignity. Through a sports-led intervention and rehabilitation programme, she found not just training but also purpose.</p>.<p>Sixteen years ago, Elvis Joseph, a sports management professional and Founder‑Director of the Bangalore Schools Sports Foundation, walked away from a comfortable corporate career to build a sports-led rehabilitation initiative for HIV-positive children. </p>.<p>‘Champion-in-Me’ began with just 20 children in Karnataka. Today, more than 3,000 have been mainly trained in athletics and football. A programme that set out to reshape sport into a source of community upliftment now nurtures children who carry identity, confidence and ambition.</p>.<p>Some have competed at the Children’s Olympics in the Netherlands. Some have run the Boston Marathon. Others have travelled to the Gold Coast. Each step is proof that stigma can be outrun when someone gives you the shoes.</p>.<p>“These kids are vulnerable,” Elvis says. “And ironically, our country still has no plan for them.”</p>.<p>This year, three more young athletes will attempt the Everest Marathon alongside Monika — each carrying a story the world once refused to hear.</p>.<p>For Monika, the path ahead is simple in its clarity: keep running, keep climbing, keep believing. Every stride is a step away from the darkness she was born into and a step toward the life she is determined to create.</p>