It all started on August 11th 2020, when I registered for a spot at the Golden Trail Championship after having seen an ad on Instagram. Without researching the event whatsoever, I put my name in the draw.
On August 30th I had an email come through saying: » Dear Runner, congratulations! You are one of the lucky ones to be drawn to participate in the most anticipated event of the year, the Golden Trail Championship! « Huh? Me?
I started an extensive research and quickly realised that I had indeed been very lucky. I had by chance been given a bib to an event you would normally have to qualify for, one of the most sought after stage races in the world of trail running. I was given three days to decide whether I wanted to go or not.
Did I mention that the race was taking place in the breathtakingly, stunning Azores?
I had to go!
Fast forward 2 months and everything was booked. It ended up being a rather expensive spontaneous decision I had made back in August. Worth every penny though!
Luckily a friend of mine also had his name drawn in the lottery, so we buddied up and booked an Airbnb together. It was nice to have someone to share an event of this calibre with. Unfortunately we were running in separate waves due to the pandemic and only really saw each other back at the abode in the evenings. I started early every day, and Alejandro was not back until late afternoon, as his wave started almost two hours after mine.
It is safe to say that this race has been my biggest challenge to date! Four days of back to back long runs in some of the harshest conditions I have ever experienced:
Lucky number 207
Wednesday, October 28th 2020
3.6 km with 203 m of elevation
26 minutes
Thursday, October 29th 2020
24 km with 1503 m of elevation
4 hours & 11 minutes
Friday, October 30th 2020
25 km with 1465 m of elevation
4 hours
Saturday, October 31st 2020
31.5 km with 1807 m of elevation
6 hours
Sunday, November 1st 2020
35.2 km with 1946 m of elevation
5 hours & 48 minutes
According to the above data and my memory, Stage 1 and Stage 3 were the toughest. I only really realised what I had signed up for some 8 km into Stage 1; we spent almost 2 hours climbing to the top of the volcano crater, through unforgiving terrain and weather, thick & humid tropical forests with knee high mud and torrential rain. Had I not tied my laces so tight earlier, I would have easily lost a shoe or two!
Approaching the top of the Caldeira forced me down on all fours — the wind speed up there was over 60 km an hour, so standing upright on the ridge line would have blown me off the edge. I had managed to catch up to a woman who had been running just ahead of me since the start, and we helped each other battle the wind as we ran close together, slightly bent over, along the narrow single track on top of the volcano. We spent the next 15 km together. Her name was Sonia and she was a local hero; having won multiple races across the many islands in the Azores when she was younger. I was honoured to be running with her.
What goes up must come down
Attempting to run downhill was even harder, not because my legs were achy, but because a mix of ankle deep mud and hidden rocks made for a dangerous, slippery slope. Towards the end we were seen zig zagging across volcanic stones, when heaven opened up and hail came hammering down.
Sonia and I separated a few kilometres before the finish line, but she was there cheering me on as I crossed it some 15 minuter later. A very wet day on a very technical course. I had moments during this day where I genuinely was SO scared; I was left absolutely humbled, wondering how on earth I would get through another three days!
* Enter the biggest pizza (yep, with pineapple) on the island and a good nights sleep *
Stage 2 was — oddly enough — a lot better. I ran a little further, and I ran a little faster, mainly powered by my curiosity. It was still foggy, and there was still a lot of mud. Perhaps even more than the day before.
I had brought the running poles along today and these helped me a lot. I powered through the day, but come the evening I had very little appetite. Very unlike me, but apparently that is a common thing with this amount of exercise thrown into the mix.
I managed to force some pasta and mackerel down (odd combo, and maybe the reason why I had no appetite) and a small bowl of peas. Far from enough to make up for the calories burnt over the last couple of days though.
Moments before the end of Stage 3
Stage 3 was the day where I nearly broke. It was SO HARD. My legs were tired from the previous days and I could not stomach my usual beloved breakfast — porridge (easy to please). I knew I had to eat and force fed myself some rice cakes with peanut butter, moments before getting on the bus to the start line.
We arrived and was told that the course had been changed due to bad weather. Roughly 5 km was added to the total daily distance, but 1000 m of elevation had been deducted. You win some and you lose some. I almost lost my mind; but I am not one to give up. I reminded myself that I was there voluntarily, in fact I had paid £250 for the race bib alone.
One step at a time. I was moving at snail pace and had numerous breaks where I was bent over, using my poles to stand upright, whilst trying to convince myself to keep on plodding along. It seemed like a never ending trail — not to mention the hills — but what goes up must come down and things going wrong should never alter a person’s commitment to the mission!
Every moment contains only one thing - the potential to keep going!
Stage 4 was my favourite. My legs were heavy, my knees achy, my shoes & running pack both still soaked from the previous days, yet somehow my mind was wired. And I had left over pizza for breakfast. Note: pizza is a great pre-workout.
Between me and the end of this incredible adventure was one last day on the Azorean trails. We were running across Faial island: 35 km with nearly 2000 m of elevation gain.
I treasured every second. Even the part in the thick, tropical forest, where covering 1 km took me nearly 30 minutes, and the downhill sections where I was feeling an intense fatigue from lifting burnt quads against the sticky resistance of the mud; the mental game was on.
Four days. 115 kilometres covered. 7000 meters of elevation gained. 20 hours of running and with a big smile on my face during the majority of those.
Mud, mud, mud
Dear body, thank you for letting me run the Golden Trail Championship 2020. It was very special and I am forever grateful for the adventure!
Over 4 consecutive days we ran across some of nature’s wildest terrain — over abrasive lava rocks, through thick & humid tropical forests, up high & exposed volcanic peaks, descents down steep switchback singles and an endless supply of mud.
We were battered by torrential rain and a fog that hugged the entire island, which smothered us in 100 percent humidity, eliminating all views. We laughed. We cried. We laughed again.
A stage race is an emotional rollercoaster, you will feel physical pain like you never have before, but with a little perseverance you will get past that pain, and the highs that follow will change you forever.
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