This race report is a saga! But my slowest 100km race ever deserves a worthy report.
After the excitement of the Western States finish line, I diligently followed the 2-week rule — ‘No entering unplanned races.’ On day 15, I entered Malaysia by UTMB 100km. I wanted to use my hard-won fitness at a unique destination, and my body felt the best it has ever felt after a miler. With 11 weeks between races and a generous cut off time, this looked fun!
The experience over-delivered on the ‘unique’ and ‘adventure’ front.
Toy Martin, Crew Extraordinaire agreed to join me and we managed to fit in some sightseeing for a couple days before the race. Cave temples, monkeys, botanic gardens and giant monitor lizards. Driving was terrifying as I watched high-speed motorcyclists in thongs weave past our tiny car with inches to spare. The fact that the rental car only had cooling and no heating was also worrying.
The 30min shakeout jog in the local park was intimidating…I lost about half my body weight in sweat. We were greeted by friendly Taiping locals and Mum was nearly recruited to a Tai chi dance group.
3am Saturday morning and I’m getting called up to the Elite start. I was in a quandary when I received an email saying they wanted 50% of the Elite start line to be women. It’s important to have women on the start line. But it shouldn’t be me! The first 12km climbed over 1200m and I have a long history of hitting ‘bushfire orange’ over-stimulation feelings at the start of races. But the bibs were printed and I decided it was the first challenge I’d need to cope with for the day. My contribution to ‘Here for the women’s race’.
Gun went off and I am proud that I managed the first dark 4km on easy paved paths in a calm shuffle. My mental state was ‘blue/green’ like a calm flowing river. Something I’ve been practising with my sports psych genius, Nick de la Rosa.
Onto a steep single-track into a thick, dark jungle. Heartrate skyrocketed. I was instantly in ‘bushfire orange’ having flashbacks to fainting on the first climb at Lavaredo. The air had thick viscosity. The track had ropes to help up the steep pitches. My mental strategies deserted me. 5km I puked everywhere. I sat down and as I leant forward a waterfall of sweat came off my face. I could be using all those 32 hours to cut off!
The climb I thought would take 2 hours, took 4. Kind strangers helped me all the way up. A German living in Kuala Lumpar. A Japanese and Indian man offered me water. A Dutch man made sure I was ok.
At the first Angkasa aid station (12km) I sat down and took time to try to get water and coke in. It was still dark, but super friendly volunteers put ice in my hat, sleeves and bra which provided an instant improvement in my stomach.
Resigned to this day being way more challenging than anticipated, I trotted down the road with my new German bestie Niels. I’ve never been so happy to be on pavement and as we passed cheering locals, I finally started feeling more human and less puking-zombie. The sun rose with my mood.
Into more jungle and suddenly we joined a conga line of athletes from the 25km and 13km races. Embracing my new ‘out for a long day’ attitude, I laughed with the Malaysian 100km man who declared ‘well I was never seeing the podium anyway’.
Then it got fun. I got rolling on the muddy, sliding descents and started passing people. Everyone was so great about calling out ahead that there were 100km runners coming through. The traffic was moving to the side when they could and cheering. It was an obstacle slip ‘n slide with many sit downs, but I wasn’t puking. The number of women in hijabs who appeared new to trail racing was seriously inspiring.
Through a chaotic Tiger Temple aid station (29km) where children danced in dragon costumes and more importantly, volunteers were ready with lots of ice. I focused on blue/green feelings and tried to get gels and fluid in. Over rolling terrain to the Ecopark aid station (37km), where the ever-patient Toy Martin was waiting. The app predicted I’d be there in 4hrs 45min. I’d predicted 6-7 hours. The watch said 8hrs.
I apologized to Mum that this was going to be a long day. She said there had been musical entertainment at the aid station and she had nothing else to do. She also said I was in top 12 females which seemed crazy. More ice. Off I went. The ice was making such a difference to my nausea, but it was completely melted 15 minutes after I’d left each aid station.
Through some interesting, paved paths. Small huts with old ladies and children cheering in their front yards. It was a stark reminder of the privilege I had choosing to be in this situation. Into another steep jungle climb and a small snake between my feet caused a heart rate spike. I’d already googled that there were 217 types of venomous snakes in Malaysia. Hopefully my guy was the safe kind!
Sliding down the back of the jungle climb and a Malay man who assured me it was very humid. I took comfort that even the locals were feeling it. I felt like I’d gone 3 rounds with Tyson into the KTM Tunnel aid station (50km), however salvation awaited.
A lovely volunteer offered an ‘ice cream’. Nothing else was going in, so why not! She cut the plastic knot off the top of a nameless plastic tube of the most delicious, cold thing I’ve ever tasted. The weirdest thing… I didn’t wretch once eating it. If one was good, three must be better. I got 2 more down and trotted off into a delightfully cold old train tunnel.
Into the Changkat Ibol aid station (62km) where Toy Martin was waiting! The man on the microphone had made friends with Mum and told me my best support was here. He was right!
There were a lot of 50km runners in the aid station eating plates piled high with barbeque chickens and rice and noodles. There was a giant rotisserie! All I cared about were the life-saving ice-creams. Four more down and no puking! There were runners in the prayer room area and the Adhan call to prayer played across the valley on loudspeakers.
I was worried about the last climb back up the mountain. I didn’t know how I was going to manage climbing higher on the peak after my challenge getting up it on an ‘easier’ path first thing the race.
Mum had sage advice. ‘You’ve got lots of cushion to cut off. You aren’t at the bottom of the climb yet. You are still 2nd in your age group so everyone is hurting.’ She handed me a can of skinslick; chafing around my waist had me looking like a ringbarked tree. I was off to discover a new corner of Taiping.
A surprise aid station, not listed on my bib number. They had ice-creams and the happiest volunteers helping with ice, ice baby. Off through a palm tree plantation with some barking dogs. I couldn’t believe how hot and humid it was at 5pm.
Into the Peak 300 aid station (72km) and disaster struck. No ice-creams left! I don’t cry often, but this nearly ended me in a DNF right there. The volunteers offered me rice, crackers, coke, water. I briefly tried and immediately was back in disappointing puke-land. The distant towers in the photo below were my seemingly impossible destination peak.
I applied the Hanny Allston ‘do you proceed’ questions: ‘Do I know where I am?’ Yes. ‘Am I physically capable?’ Yes. ‘Do I have the right gear to keep me safe?’ Yes. I hiked off into the jungle once more.
As it got darker in the forest a delightful Japanese lady came past. I told her I wasn’t sure how I was getting up the last climb. She enthusiastically declared ‘we are strong trail women, of course we finish!’ I let her buoyancy lift me and waved her on with a smile.
Darkness arrived as did some trail angels. Two local volunteers with a little camp at the 200m elevation sign. ‘Welcome to our ‘life base!’ I asked if I could sit down and they ushered me onto the bed of large leaves they’d laid out on the dirt. ‘Rest! Rest!’ They turned a little battery fan on me.
I asked if there were more of them, which led to a hilarious and confusing exchange where they thought I was seeing more than two of them. We eventually established there was another ‘life base’. I just had to gain 200m more elevation. There were signs at every 100m of elevation gain on the mountain. Time to break things into very small chunks.
Every time I was tempted to sit down, I was dissuaded. There were huge spiders, ants and centipedes crawling all over the logs and ground. Then what looked like a scorpion! Adventure was getting a capital A!
Into number 2 ‘life base’ and they had a tarp to lay on! It was also the turn off for the 50km course. As I lay there contemplating my future, my German bestie Niels appeared! He was shocked I was still moving and I pointed out that currently I was lying flat on the ground. Then the weirdest thing. He said ‘so you’re calling it a day?’And I said no, surely I can hike to the top of this thing! Hilarious since I had literally thought one minute before, I must DNF. He saved my race, just asking me that question.
Off to the next ‘life base’. Once I gathered myself to continue, the lovely lady asked ‘are you sure about continuing? You’re only at 600m elevation. The top is 1300m. You aren’t yet half way.’ It was a sobering thought but I was completely unwilling to slide back down the 600m gain, so I assured her I was fine.
800m life base and I asked them if they could wake me in 10 minutes. They gave me a small square mat and I promptly fell asleep. First time I’ve ever slept in 100km race. When the lovely volunteer shook me awake, I felt way better. ‘Ok next life base at 1000m, right?’ A sad shake of the head. ‘Next one at top….1300m.’
Oh no! 500m elevation gain seemed extremely daunting but it was way too late to back out now. I set myself the goal of getting to 1000m sign and I’d just sit and risk getting bitten by something venomous. I made it another 100m gain and puking ended my quest. I sat and thought ‘this really isn’t fun’.
Then my genuine saviour appeared. Dutch man who had given me water an eternity ago on the first climb appeared. He asked if it was ok if he sat and then if he could hike a bit with me. I gave the weakest protest that I’d slow him up too much. Thankfully he ignored me with a cheerful, ‘I don’t mind.’ Noat (I spend at least an hour mentally practising not calling him Noah), then proceeded to get me up that mountain with a positive, calm and kind attitude. He stopped when he saw me puking or disintegrating and we saved our headlights and marvelled at the total absence of light in the jungle. We decided the monkeys talking to each other sounded like people. He supported my verbal dummy spit to a rope climb steep section after the 1300m elevation sign. We had been promised ‘top of the mountain’ was 1300m but it was actually 1350m!
Finally, the top and we heard loud snoring from the ‘life base’. Fair enough, it was 2am. And the loveliest bit of pavement I’ve ever seen. I thanked Noat effusively and told him to leave me, but he wouldn’t. With gravity on my side a surprising shuffle appeared. Into the last Angkasa (86km) aid station and I realised the last 14km had just taken me 8 hours!
The long road descent which we’d done just ‘yesterday’. Familiarity gave me confidence to keep forcing the legs to turn over. With 2km to go, I told Noat to run ahead.
I glanced at the race time as I crossed the line. That just took 2 hours longer than 160km at Western States!
Mum, Tanya (my lunatic friend who had been working all day and night) and Noat were all there waiting. And Mum’s mate from the 60km aid station was on the microphone.
Racing in humidity may not be in my future, but this race that made me so grateful for the kindness of strangers. Very hard fought finish that I’m pretty proud of.
25hrs41min. 15th Female. 2nd Age Group.
