107k Trail in the Jungle: A race against time and yourself
80% humidity, 33 degrees celsius in the sun, muddy and slippery underfoot, steep climbs through the undergrowth, over 12 hours in darkness with a headlamp, 30 hours in total!
It is 4am when we set off for the Amazean Trail 2024 part of the UTMB World Series. We run through the quiet streets of Betong, a small town on the Thai-Malay border and soon turn onto a track which in turn becomes a narrow path uphill. The first part of the 6240m total elevation climb begins. In a mix of fast walking and running we reach the first checkpoint at 10km— most people have already fallen at least once on the steep muddy slopes.
Daylight is just breaking as we cross a road and carry on up into the jungle. As we climb and descend following the valleys it is hard to tell if we are actually climbing to higher ground. But as we climb, the trees change. Below our feet the paths become steeper — tree roots and earth sometimes covered with thick carpet of tropical leaves. Some of the plants are giant with leaves bigger than anything I have ever seen before. Enormous trees often block the way with the most beautiful coloured fungi and moss. The sound of waterfalls and beautifully cool water is both mentally and physically refreshing. We reach a summit and find ourselves above the clouds.
It is the noise of the jungle that amazes me the most — I hear geckos and cuckoos plus other insects. Leeches are the main worry. At night I am alone with my headlight following markers but never afraid in the company of the forest. I am in one of the most remote places but feel safe.
From running, jogging, walking, climbing to eating, drinking and sleeping. Survival is about hydration — every 10k I fill up with another 1 liter of water and drink a few glasses of water and hydration drinks. I grab a few snacks or a bowl of rice. Rest or keep going? This is the ongoing question that consumes me at every rest station. I opt for rest because these conditions are unknown to me but never rest for too long because I don’t know what is ahead.
Blisters, dehydration, sprains, fatigue. At every rest station I see people who are exhausted or injured. They make assessments based on their own experience and the advice of medical teams about whether or not to continue. By the end, 79 out of the original 184 runners complete the course.
Eventually we are at the 80K point — this is also a critical point because mentally it becomes a decision point for whether or not to finish. As I walk out of the rest station I know that I haven’t had enough of a rest and I am hungry — but I am also slightly behind where I should be. Competition rules stipulate that you must leave the rest station so I head out into the darkness and into the quiet streets of a village. I sit by the roadside and shut my eyes for a few moments. The tiredness has kicked in and my sleep is instant but shortlived. A couple of minutes later I am moving again. I wander a couple of kilometers. But the same tiredness kicks in again. I sit in the plants at the side of the road. I allow myself to drop into sleep for a couple of minutes then awake with a jolt. I pick myself up and move again.
I keep drinking and finally I push through. Daylight is breaking again. As the sun slowly rises breaking the mist in the valleys of rubber trees and banana palms, the beauty of the wild flowers and the light flickering though the leaves lead me along a red clay track. My energy returns — where I was wavering I now find the strength to move again. There is a sign for the penultimate checkpoint at a temple. I stride up to the top of a paved road but can’t see the temple and sun is scorching on my skin. The road winds down the hill. I never see the temple but find the checkpoint looking out across the hills. I grab some water and start running down the narrow winding paths.
Suddenly we were on a road, heading back into town. Small children have set up a hose and hold cups of water to wash our hands. People are holding cups of iced water and cheering from restaurants. The town, so quiet 30 hours before, is alive with excitement. Lines of people along the streets are waving and shouting encouragement. Soldiers are holding back the traffic and waving me on. I cross the finish line! I did it!!!
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