Mount Gaoligong Ultra 2016
Mount Gaoligong Ultra - 104 miles with 29,000 feet of vertical climbing and 29,000 feet of descent.
Disclaimer: I have never written a race report before, and at times during the race my mind was cloudy.
The race was to start at eight a.m. on Friday, so at six a.m. we ate a quick breakfast.
We then all nervously piled into the taxi at six twenty a.m. in order to get to the start line by six-thirty a.m. for check-in. I had three drop bags with me: a start/finish bag and two drop bags for the race.
We also picked up our GPS tracker, bracelet (this was scanned at every checkpoint), and an emergency cell phone. The mandatory gear list was significant. My pack was filled to the brim. I started the race with fifteen ounces of water and fifteen ounces of tailwind. It was cold, probably in the upper forties, and I knew I wouldn't feel thirsty until later in the day. The drop bags were for checkpoint five (mile thirty-five) and checkpoint eleven (mile seventy-two). They were provided by the race and were huge. I had no idea what I would need, so I packed everything.
My nutrition plan was fairly simple: one water and one 200 calorie tailwind per aid station. There I also planned on drinking coconut water and figured I’d graze on the Honey Stinger waffles and GU waffles I was carrying if I got hungry.
The race start was something out of a movie. It was a huge, beautiful production where each athlete was called by name and we ran down to the start.
We lined up and watched the clock tick down to eight a.m.
The first two miles were on the road through the city of Tengchong, winding through upper-class neighborhoods designed to look like medieval castles, with a police escort until the start of the trail. We quickly transitioned into a very steep climb (1,200 feet over a mile). The terrain was soft dirt mixed with grass. This was also the start of the perfectly marked trail. They literally had a ribbon, sign, reflector, or caution tape every 50 feet for 104 miles. Often, they were more frequent. We got to the top of the first hill and had a beautiful rolling grass ridgeline. CP1 was a fast stop, only to get my bracelet scanned. Continuing on to CP2.
We had a really nice downhill section on the way to CP2, and I really got a nice flow going. CP2 Chris and Molly were there to offer me encouragement. I filled up with water and added 200 calories of tailwind to a bottle. I felt strong, and my body was starting to warm up.
We ran through a beautiful section at this point. Tiered agriculture filled the hillside. People worked the fields, the ox stared unimpressed, and large groups of villagers lined the streets, waiting for us to run by.
We had made our way over the first mountain, and it looked as if we were dropping into the valley with the next mountain ever-present in the distance. Eventually, we came to a huge river with a magnificent bridge. Again, hundreds of people were out watching and cheering us on. On the other side of the bridge another CP. And so we started the climb of the second mountain. The day was warming up; I would guess in the seventies with a clear, sunny sky.
At CP5 I came into town, and the streets were lined with people. There were women in traditional Chinese dress performing a dance. I got my first drop bag. I put my headlamp, red lights, and watch charger into my backpack. I ate two Mama Chia squeeze pouches, one coconut water with 200 calories of Carbopro, and was off. This started another steep incline.
At CP6, they brushed my feet with bright-orange anti-snake powder. There was a steady uphill dirt road we followed for quite a time before reaching Bear Tunnel. Bear Tunnel, as I named it, was a single track in thick forest, so thick light could barely penetrate.
I contemplated getting my headlamp out. The tunnel had several yellow warning signs with a picture of a bear. The sign read, “Bear Infestation.” At this point, I was worried about snakes and bears. I turned up my music so I couldn't hear the surrounding environment and trudged on, eventually reaching a ridgeline and climbing it to the highest point on the course. On the way down, I caught a stunning sunset.
Coming into CP8, it was time to shift into the night-ops mode. I traded my hat and sunglasses for a headlamp, put on my front/rear red blinking lights along with my reflective vest. Although it had cooled down significantly, I remained in just a t-shirt. I also got out my trekking poles (aka pussy sticks). This was my first race to ever use them, and I loved them. Honestly, I wish I had pulled them out earlier. We made our way through a village that looked like all the others, only a couple of huts, but they had ninety-inch televisions. No doors or windows, but huge TVs. It was surreal.
Coming into CP9, a group of ten kids tagged along and ran the last half mile with me, chanting a mantra the entire time. No clue what they were saying, but it was a welcome boost.
Between CP9 and CP10 I had my first real crisis. I had been battling sleepiness for a couple hours, but now it was overtaking me. I started thinking about taking a nap. I sat down a few times and let myself rest for forty-five seconds. Eventually, I fell asleep as I was running. The first time it's ever happened. I must have closed my eyes and that was it. I awoke to a falling sensation as my legs started buckling. Luckily, I recovered and didn't fall. But the pace was slow, and I was demoralized. About that time, Jared passed me. I shared my struggles with him and he saved my race. The race was sponsored by Red Bull and every aid station had cans upon cans of it. Jared suggested I drink a little and see how I felt. Two miles to go to CP10, I jogged downhill focused on waking up. The hope of feeling better made the sleepiness a little more bearable. Arriving at CP10, I immediately pounded an entire Red Bull. It didn't upset my stomach, and I instantly woke up. I left feeling energized and positive.
CP11 was our next drop bag and I was excited to get there and eat some food. I ran well for a while, but a couple big climbs later I was back to square one. I started negotiating with myself about sleep. First, I was going to take a nap at CP11, then I told myself to curl up next to one of the villager’s fires, and finally, I laid down on the trail and took a ninety-second nap. I then started entertaining all the excuse demons: jet lag, I’m undertrained, I'm overtrained, I didn't eat enough, I should just focus on finishing, etc. It was quite the pity party. On top of that, it was cold and I wasn't moving very fast. I tried gloves at first but eventually succumbed to putting on my thermal long sleeve. It helped enough, and the next thing I knew I was at CP11.
CP11 was one of the big aid stations, and it was packed with people. A very high-energy aid station. I drank a bunch of coconut water mixed with Carbopro and had one and a half Red Bulls. I should have eaten more. I forgot about my Mama Chia pouches. But I wanted to get out of there before the nap rationalizations returned. The hallucinations started sometime around here. They lasted for the rest of the race. Nothing too distracting, but definitely very vivid.
With about six miles to CP13, at seven-fifteen a.m., my headlamp died. I was climbing a steep, sandy hill in a deep valley, and although sunrise was at seven a.m., I was running in darkness. Obviously, this slowed my pace again and eventually saw abounding headlamp chasing me down. Ray passed me, which gave me a renewed purpose. I began following him and started chatting away. I was ready for conversation after eighty solo miles. I'm not sure Ray was, but he was accommodating and the miles flew by without effort. We rolled into CP13 and quickly refueled, looking forward to only twelve miles left. Little did we know.
Between CP13 and CP14 we went up and down so many times I thought we had gotten lost. Straight up half a mile, straight down a half a mile. Hill repeats on ninety-two-mile legs. I believe there are around 1000 meters of vertical in this section and my legs screamed. Finally, we began our descent to CP14. The last checkpoint with only four downhill (we were told) miles to the finish.
At CP14, I drank a Red Bull for good measure and continued on. We immediately had another short steep climb over a hill. Dropping into a valley, we had a long monotonous gradual uphill. Just enough incline to slow down 100-mile legs. For what seemed like forever (two miles), we dropped into the city and ran the last mile through the city’s center. Right before the finish, I was handed an American flag then crossed the last bridge to the finish line.
And then I was immediately interviewed. I was delirious, and all I remember is saying, “Be your own champion.”
Maybe I should have talked more about the course. It was steep up and steep down for 104 miles. I liked my poles; others didn't need them. The terrain really was diverse: loose dirt, packed dirt, grass, leaves, rocky, ancient roads, cobblestone, muddy, dry, single track, and road. Extremely technical at points and buffed out elsewhere. The real story here is the local people. They made the race. Every aid station was packed with locals and filled with energy. Every village had the streets lined, waiting to cheer us on. So many phones. So many pictures. There were first-aid workers everywhere and at every major turn, someone was waiting to direct us in the correct direction. You could not get lost in this race.
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