Yeah, I’m Down. Jillians recap of a last minute invitation to ROTG

Welcome back, I literally just finished reading this myself and Jill has a way with her words. Take a moment, settle in and enjoy her beautifully written recap of a day to remember.

If you’ve ever wondered what a passenger van hauling five runners smells like twelve hours into an ultramarathon relay race in Bali, it’s not good. Sweat, rain or a yummy mix coat most seats. Dirty shoes pressed high on windows to soothe aching legs. Banana peels stuck to gel wrappers covered in electrolyte dust. One singular towel. Cigarette smoke from our driver who definitely thinks we are taking this too seriously (he’s right). But beyond the stink, you might see eight strangers having the time of their lives. Or as some of my teammates put it: “peak human experience” and an “11/10 day.”

I got a text two days prior asking if anyone could fill in on a team that lost two of its runners to injury. The whole “health is wealth” thing never felt more true than being able to say yes to this at a moment’s notice. Sharing that sentiment was my fellow last minute recruit Maike: former contestant on Germany’s next top model, graduate of med school, and casual 2:47 marathoner. @PrincessMaikeLea on instagram, King Maike in my heart. The remaining cast of characters included Gero, a Hungarian born sub three marathon runner/model living in Shanghai, who would not want me to tell you he vaped the entire race. Matt, Denver born and bred, who recently went back to his parent’s native China to develop an app which helps those who can only speak Chinese learn how to read its symbols as well. He had never run more than 22 km. And Sunni, whom until this moment I did not realize I learned nothing about. Mostly because Sunni is one of those enigmatic cool and quiet types who was probably sick of me force feeding him Gu. Sunni is also relatively new to running. Funded and navigated by Dawei and his wife, owners of the Chinese running brand ODR athletics. Capturing the entire ordeal was Pierre, British born but currently living in SE Asia. Pierre is smiley and soulful, and spent 12 hours dangling outside the window of a moving vehicle. I detail each individual because we almost all were strangers to each other, and many were strangers to Bali. With the addition of Maike and myself, this team’s wholesome lowstakes adventure turned into a high-octane day of competition. And everyone immediately hopped on board.   

There is much to Relay of The Gods that feels inherently unique. It’s hard to convey just how ever impressive the beauty of Bali is. Especially eastern Bali. I can tell you that every single one of my friends who participated, who have been struck dumb by this beauty over and over, were still marveling in awe at whatever it is that keeps us humbly aware of the powers much larger than us swirling the Island. From untouched rice terraces in Sideman, to the ceremoniously decorated Kintamani straightaways, even periods of downpour seemed only to add to the mystique.

Location aside, this race is physically bizarre. An endless interval session. Our team’s strategy, mostly, was 1 to 2 km segments rotated somewhat evenly between our 5 runners. Utilizing those of us with endurance backgrounds more-so when needed. The disadvantage of only having a car was that any turnovers quicker than a km were pretty unfeasible. No matter your training, running below threshold and then hopping in a car for 10-20 minutes over and over is disorienting. Every turn for the first couple of hours my body felt nervous, in a giddy way. Like it never got the chance to settle, which wasn’t the most enjoyable feeling. I think any advanced runner loves the moment your body locks in and you can disappear into the rhythmic speed - this didn’t happen for many hours thanks to the staccato nature of the race. Also at play was the unpredictability of each segment. You never knew where the van would be able to catch up or pull over. Even though the discrepancy wasn’t huge, it was a tiny bit of a speed delay not knowing if you should pace yourself for one kilometer or two. Every glimpse of the van up ahead always had me either delighted or murmuring an expletive before picking my heels up into a sprint. 

 A staggered start meant awareness of your rank throughout the day was a bit complicated. With the island asleep around us, that first hour or two went by in a frantic blur. My main memory isn’t until I saw the boys’ delight in the milky blue predawn as it slowly revealed a big sleepy volcano, and gentle orange clouds began to bounce off full rice paddies. By 40km there were some lead changes, and a little chirping on our part before we realized every other team was just being nice to us. We managed to separate from the other 4am start teams however, and by 80km I believe we had caught the majority of those who had begun before us – sometimes getting stuck in a procession of fellow race vans that barely fit on the ever inclining roads.

Watching Maike find out a team was ahead of us was thrilling, a big cat going in for the kill. I relish any opportunity to enable a woman’s competitive drive, we so rarely get to release it uninhibited. With Gero throwing down some fast extended stretches of 3-5k when the car could not follow us on the path, and Matt’s Colorado legs proving impressive on the hills, we were growing more and more confident the further our day wore on. As we climbed to 2000m of elevation gain however, I could feel the mood in the van grow stagnant.  Gero had many words for the pain cave. He was in the “trenches, gulag, swamp, storm…” something fun for every new appearance back into the van. I counted down every last 100m of elevation we had yet to accumulate before the streets turned blessedly downhill. It was worth the climb. What came next was everyone’s favorite part of the race. Long straight aways, logging km’s as fast as I’ve ever done them, through ceremonial Penjor, at a slight decline. Gero’s first stretch back into the van was a complete 180°, he was buzzing. From then, we were all practically drooling at the chance to be let back out to fly. The only downside was that the main Continuum team, and the leading Ace of Azura team, were beginning to jockey with us despite them starting an hour later. We spent a few kilometers battling – Maike dropping km’s hovering at 3:30 or lower. Gero the same. I threw out some 3:45’s and lower - and we still couldn’t catch these teams who seemed to be switching every 600 to 800m.

Our determination was at an all time high just as we hit Ubud. And traffic. For the next hour Maike, Gero, and myself were away from our blessed, disgusting van that held our fuel. We hopped on grabs to try to intercept each other and prayed our ever diminishing phone batteries would hang on. That hour saw us each do long stretches of 5-8km with no van in sight, and zero reliable variables other than the route on our watch. Only luck, and some grab drivers who were definitely cowboys in a past life, are to thank for intercepting each other in time. Despite the chaos we managed to never actually stop running - a feat that seems impossible in the directional mayhem of it all. By the time I saw that beautiful dumb van released from traffic purgatory, I instantly texted @noahszabo and his brother Will to come meet us on scooters– at only 15 km out, we just wanted to lose all brakes. Matt and Sunni gave up their turns and with the help of the bikes we three rotated every 600m or so.

I’ve heard other runners of this race, with varying abilities, all describe the foreignness of logging extremely fast times towards the end. Your quads and calves are screaming but your body was reaching some other realm of release – supremely warmed up, high on collective resilience. The three of us crossed a drizzling finish line twelve and a half hours later. Our team completed 164km and 2500m of elevation at an average pace of 4:30/km. We placed 6th out of 35 teams.

I am wowed by the talent that showed up to enter this unknown challenge with us. The best part of running, intrapersonally, will always be the moments I am surprised by my body. When hours and years of boring discipline show up at perfect times. When I see glimpses of being able to run like those in front of me. And when you can pair ego wins, with topographical wins, with community wins, it’s profoundly fulfilling. I’m so lucky I got to share this day with total strangers turned friends. I’m so lucky I got to witness the beautiful support displayed in both the male and female Flowerboy teams. I’m so lucky my body and Bali met in grueling harmony. And I’m so lucky I didn’t twist my ankle running where no alpha-flys should ever run.

BRAVO JILLIAN & TEAM.

Thanks for taking the time and we hope to catch you for a run and coffee real soon.

PEACE, FB