I was running by moonlight. In the distance, a volcano blacker than the night sky belched plumes of sulfur dioxide. It was just bright enough to see rows of small arabica coffee trees in fields to either side the road. These diminutive trees were dwarfed by palms lining the road. My headlamp illuminated a bright circle of soft dirt road in front of me. Every step raised a little puff of dust that briefly obscured my feet.
Despite the early hour, there were actually many sources of light. Away from the brightness of the nearly-full harvest moon were dozens of stars, twinkling in the crisp night air. And high up on the slopes of one of the volcanic peaks, a grass fire was burning. It was a brilliant orange streak that I’d initially mistaken for lava. There were cows too – their eyes bright points of light looking up in surprise as herds of handlamp-sporting runners dashed through their midst.
This was Ijen Trail Running, a 70k race – and it was a race of many firsts for me. Perhaps most excitingly, it was my first time running on a volcano! It was also my first time racing at night. Unfortunately for you, dear reader, it was the first time I decided to leave the archivist behind and only bring my running self. But that, in turn, brought another, very special, first…
Ready to run
Our last race – The Badlands 50k – was in mid-August, so we’d had quite a bit of recovery time. We’d also done a lot of really fun training in between: summiting 5 new mountains (and marking the 100th on our quest!) and running the Hwadae Traverse in Jirisan National Park. The weekend before this race, we volunteered at our first event: a race our very own neighborhood – Wild Trail Inje!
We flew to Indonesia one week before Ijen Trail Running. I’ll detail our Indonesia adventures in another time and place, but suffice to say this trip was incredible! And, as always, busier than I think the wiser half of this duo would have preferred… But we had five days fully optimized for fun before heading to the race site.
Ijen Trail Running was only our third race abroad. Its location in East Java made it perhaps our most remote race to date! But getting there was super simple, thanks to the awesome staff on the Ijen Trail Running team. My contact arranged a shuttle for us and hooked us up with a local homestay next to the venue. So in the end, despite the remote location, everything was easy. All we were left to do was get excited for the race – and that was easy too!
The shuttle that came to pick us up at the Bali airport already had two people inside. This couple from Spain quickly became our friends! Salva Rambla had just set out on a mission to win some ATM races (including this one: he would later crush the men’s 70k in a super speedy 8 hours!), supported by his lovely girlfriend Adriana. The trip from Denpasar, Bali to Sempol, East Java was around 7 hours long. Thankfully time passed quickly as we swapped notes on races around the world and tried to imagine what Ijen would be like!
When we finally arrived in Sempol, it was only 6 pm – but completely dark! We completed our check-in first, getting our bibs and t-shirts and finding out about our homestay. Some of the other runners and the friendly race director came over to talk to us. Then, we went out to a local warung (simple restaurant) with some newly-made friends. One of the other runners was also vegan – to my delight – so we swapped tips on ordering customized Indonesian cuisine!
Our local homestay was an experience in itself. Our room’s open window nearly touched the walls of the neighborhood mosque. The call to prayer was so loud that it halted all conversations. Our bathroom had a series of buckets and a tap that offered running water only intermittently. But it was presided over by a nice man, and we had a soft bed to sleep on, so we were happy.
We spent the day before the race eating and sleeping. It was like I was on a personal mission to see how many mini Oreos one human could consume in a day. I supplemented my cookies diet with plates of nasi campur and tempeh – one of my absolute favorite foods! When we were out hunting for meals, we met several more runners and saw still others running the dusty streets of Sempol.
We did a short little shake-out run of our own in the afternoon, and then went to the race briefing. This was another first for us, as we’re usually in transit and/or struggling to get enough sleep pre-race. But I’d heard that the race briefings for Indonesian races were pretty essential, and turns out, this one was. The race director strongly urged us to download and use a GPS file of the course map. He told us that several of the 100k racers had dropped out after getting seriously lost in areas where wildfires had destroyed course markings, or locals had altered them. (The navigation challenges did not affect South Korean Sungsik Joh, who nabbed the 100k victory after a smart and speedy run! Korea represent!)
After getting set up with that crucial GPS file, we headed off to bed for a nap. It was around 7 pm, and we had just a few hours to sleep before the big event!
Ijen Trail Running 70k
Race day! We woke up at 11 pm, after an entirely reasonable 4 hour nap with earplugs! I didn’t really know how to feel, so I focused on small, practical tasks: like eating a massive breakfast! My plan was to be full of useful calories from the very beginning! Kent had a local coffee at the starting line while we waited for our race to start. We found some of our new friends and wished them luck as we all gathered behind the start line!
A burst of fireworks began the Ijen Trail Running 70k race! Kent and I started near the front of the pack. As we raced onto the plantation roads, there were a few position changes. But from after the first couple of kilometers, our position in the group was static throughout the race.
One of my first impressions was surprise! We’d run the first few kilometers of the course on a training run the day before. It had been dusty then, but now it was unbelievable. The fine, powdery dirt was churned up by a dozen runners feet into a choking, blinding haze. For a few minutes, I could barely see or breathe! When we got a little bit more spaced out, it was easier, but still pretty crazy! The dirt was so soft and flour-y in its consistency! It completely coated us – and our new shoes – in minutes!
Another one of my first impressions was one of ease. We were able to maintain a steady but fairly speedy pace that felt just right. It was nice to be in our own little space, with headlamps visible both ahead and behind. A related joy was that I didn’t feel tired at all. This could have been just an early morning fun run. But I knew that, this time, it was going to stay dark for a long, long time!
We turned from the broad lanes bisecting the the plantations onto some singletrack and climbed.We crossed over the main road leading to Sempol, guided on by a course marshal. We passed a few locals gathered around fires, waving as we ran by.
After the first check-point, where we quickly downed water and bananas, we were briefly back on a dirt road. But the first hill was coming! The turn was marked by confetti as well as ribbons. This was really helpful, because beyond the road all we could see was a near-vertical wall of long, dry grass. We climbed. Slowly. We had to make liberal use of the grass to haul ourselves up. This was our bonus peak, as the race director had promised!
At the top, we had amazing views of a sky full of twinkling stars. The rising moon illuminated a drop-off to either side of our thin trail, but we couldn’t make out much of the landscape. So we carried on, descending abruptly! It was a little hairy: basically a slip-n-slide down more of that loose, powdery dirt, our descents arrested somewhat by clutching at stems of the long grass.
At the bottom was a wide open field of short, blackened grass. This was the area that had gone up in flames and burned some of the course markings. Instead of reflective ribbons, we could see the bright eyes of cows all around us. Another runner appeared, seeming a little lost. Now we had three pairs of eyes looking for course markings, but it was really only that crucial GPS map that kept us on track. As we approached a little rise, volunteers at the second checkpoint waved their flashlights at us, so we knew where to go.
On top, we chatted a bit with our new friend while eating bananas and potatoes. Then we ran away down a new, dark, dirt road. I was feeling great about all of this evenly-paced running! Even better when our new friend said there were only six racers ahead of us – all of them male! Fun! Maybe I ran a little harder after that. We stayed a trio for a while, through some farms and a bushy little ridge, and back down onto a dirt road, chatting all the while.
By the time we hit the paved section heading towards the top, we were on our own again. The road section was longer than I’d imagined, but the change was not unwelcome! For the first time, I felt like I could breathe well! The smoke from one of the high grass fires (still blazing for a second night) was mercifully blowing in another direction and we were no longer raising little dust storms with each step.
We reached checkpoint three at the bustling turnoff to Kawah Ijen, where buses and vans were loading or unloading tourists bound for sunrise or returning from the blue fire. After downing some water and another banana, we raced up; on the final climb to the summit now!
We dodged the hardworking men who push tourists up and down in big carts. They seemed to like us, and would almost invariably cry ‘strong’ after us. We gave them lots of thumbs up and praised their strength too. The sky was just beginning to brighten.
Then we saw a headlamp bobbing down! This was the first descending runner we’d crossed paths with, so we whooped and hollered. The guy wasn’t someone we’d met yet, but an Indonesian doing his country proud. Three more runners followed, separated by about 10 minutes each, including a friend of ours!
Rising up out of the forest, the sky began to glow orange and gold. Higher on the trail, it was more crowded, and we had to do a lot more dodging and weaving. But the terrain remained mostly runnable. It would get steep for a few paces, then flatten out again, so we kept up our speed.
For a little while, we had views over the rugged volcanic landscape, with peaks to either side. But then a cloud of sulfuric gas enveloped everything. We had said to ourselves prior to the race that it really didn’t matter when we reached the top. Our options of seeing blue fire, sunrise, or a morning view of the world’s most acidic lake were all equally awesome options. Toxic fog had not been on that list of possibilities! This too was a new experience: we were on top of a volcano, but we couldn’t see a thing!
The sulfur fumes got stronger and stronger as we ascended, making it difficult to breathe. We pulled our buffs down over our noses and mouths, but it only helped a little. The ridge on top was packed with tourists and difficult to run. My eyes and throat stung furiously.
Finally, just when I thought I might not be able to breathe in the toxic fumes much longer, we saw the turnaround point! The volunteers stationed there were really friendly, and gave us orange bracelets to mark us as having summited Ijen. For the first and only time all day, we pulled out the phone for a few photos. Then we began to run down.
This was the best part of the whole day for me: a highlight not just of the race, but of my life.
The air became clearer as soon as we left the ridge, and I took great gulps of refreshing, energizing air. I ran in the lead, my speed increasing with the grade! I’d call ‘beep-beep’ to clear the tourists from our path, followed up with many ‘thank you’s. The friendly cart-pushers continued to praise our running. As the air continued to clear, the views of the volcanic landscape, awash in a palette of brilliant dawn colors, was spectacular. I drank it in with my eyes and tried to plant it in my heart forever. It was so great!
After a few hundred meters, I became aware that someone behind me was constantly crying ‘permisi, permisi, marathon!’ One of the volunteers from the top was coming down with us to help clear a route! A flood of tears momentarily cleared the dust and smoke from my eyes. I felt like a champion. Right up there alongside emerging from my first open-water triathlon swim, finishing UTMJ and being spoon-fed applesauce at Tengri, this experience contained enough magic and joy to power me for a lifetime. I knew I was in the lead of the women’s race, but I felt no pressure; only a deep gratitude.
It didn’t matter to me what the rest of the day held, or anything beyond. In these moments of flying downhill, I was on top of the world. The experience made me feel both utterly humbled and like joy itself was coursing through my veins. I’ll never forget it as long as I live. I sort of wish I’d been able to record it somehow, but then again, I don’t think you can actually record something so powerful. In fact, I never even got to thank that volunteer. His voice grew distant and then I lost it in the crowd.
We ran down into CP3 for the second time. We saw the first few racers behind us, including two women, starting their trips up. Many more runners were clustered around the aid station. We made straight for our drop bag. We’d made a race plan: here, we’d swap headlamps, buffs and gloves for hats, sunscreen and sunglasses, and resupply on jellies. While Kent availed himself of aid station fare, I ate my applesauce, pretzels and one extra Oreo, for good luck. I took another cup of water for the road, thanked the volunteers and wished our fellow runners good luck – and we carried on.
Next up was a shady downhill run: back the way we’d come! We caught sight of a gorgeous sulfur waterfall, but couldn’t stop, because the downhill was too swift and easy! Many racers were ascending, and we whooped and hollered for everyone.
Then we found our turnoff, and the two official photographers! The pair were waiting for us just off the road. I laughed, because it was terrible timing for a photo. I was still gripping an uneaten banana and I had an empty cup of water crushed in my waistband: more importantly, I had no time to be vain. All I could do was smile and wave my banana at them.
Then we ran on, truly alone now. We suspected there was a long stretch of open trail both in front and behind us. Perfect – just the way I like it! We ran on some singletrack, descending slowly through tall trees and fields. In one cool section, we were up on a high ridge with steep drop-offs to either side, and great views over the flat, plantation-filled caldera. The semi-circular remains of an ancient volcano loomed in front of us: later, we knew, we’d be climbing that!
We dropped down and found a tiny, silent village and a great aid station! Two volunteers happily helped us to slices of deliciously cold watermelon, which we devoured! We drank some bottled water and ran on again.
My plan had been to think about the distances of each check-point in comparison to races we’d already completed or other favorite runs. But I found that I didn’t need to rely on any mental boosts today. I was just really in the flow of this race. Every time we stopped, I felt eager to get going again. But it never felt rushed: only just right. I didn’t take out the camera again, which may have been a mistake, because I have little to show you of this gorgeous race. But I was, well, racing. I was completely in the moment. And maybe, that’s even better.
The next section of the race promised to be a little tricky in terms of navigation. At the race briefing the night before, the RD had warned us about some changes in the course markings, so we knew we’d need to be vigilant. So far, it had been pretty easy! We were speeding along runnable dirt roads through the plantations. There were a few exciting sections of switchbacks on hillsides, but nothing complicated.
After some more bananas and a little coke at the fifth aid station, we found the tricky part! We passed a turnoff for the 100k, but we knew that led to a long detour that wasn’t for us. So we took the other fork, and quickly ran out of race signage. But there was some spray paint on two trees that formed a doorway to an impossibly steep and slippery dirt scramble down to a road far below. The GPS file of the course indicated that the correct route lay down there.
So despite my (considerable) reservations, we descended. It was not pretty. Kent went first, mainly on his butt. I followed, at a snails pace, clinging for dear life onto blades of grass and the thin branches of shrubs. We were both immediately caked in dirt. After a brief spell of confusion brought on by a sign pointing the way to the 21 kilometer course, we were back on track.
We ran along the outskirts of a little town, then back onto the straight, flat roads of the plantations. We hadn’t seen another soul in ages. I needed a rest stop, so I stopped short and grabbed my shorts. The winner of the 21k chose that exact moment to materialize from behind Kent! We laughed, and I waited a moment until he passed by. A little while later, we saw the second place fellow as we began to descend on some overgrown singletrack through some cabbage farms.
At the bottom, we briefly rejoined a paved road leading to a hot spring! As we marched uphill, I finally finished the fluid in my hydration pack. I’d packed a tiny emergency bottle of water, and I now switched to that. It was very exposed here: sunny and hot! As we wound around some switchbacks, we spotted another 70k runner ahead – the first we’d seen since dawn!
We met up with him at the next little aid station where we all chowed down on watermelon again and refilled all our empty water vesicles. But we didn’t linger, because I was excited to begin our second climb of the day!
Heading uphill in the dark of the night had felt easy and fun, and after that, we’d spent most of the morning daylight descending. Now it was time to challenge our muscles on the ascent again! We ran where the grade was low, and power-hiked where that was more efficient! Up, up, up. Kent said it felt like a long climb, and it was, at our slightly slower pace. But I was still feeling great, and I led our charge. There were many false summits as we wound around from one ridge to the next highest one.
Finally on top, we agreed that this remote little village would have actually been perfect for our homestay! It was small and scenic, with great views over the crater and back towards Ijen. Crazy to think about how far we’d come! We’d expected a bracelet here, but instead got some more bananas and water. Kent offered to take some pictures, but I thought we should keep running to the end.
As the volunteers had informed us, we began to descend almost immediately. And it was not, as Koreans would say, an up-down, up-down course. It was freshly cut singletrack that switchbacked across a steep and brushy hillside. But it was well-marked and easy to follow, so, despite the occasional caution-inducing scramble, we continued to make good time. I felt a little fatigued, but nothing crazy and nothing hurt – an ongoing miracle! After about 3k of this, we popped out at a surprising little strawberry farm!
Now on pavement, we knew we didn’t have far to go. So we ran a little harder. Until…I was overcome by hunger! What a time to be starving. Luckily, half an energy bar hastily tossed down seemed to cure me, and I ran it in to the finish. As we always do, Kent and I joined hands and ran hard at the tape! The finish area was crowded with volunteers – and our new Spanish friends! We found out that Kent had achieved an awesome 6th place and that I had won the women’s race! It was a really happy moment indeed.
After sorting out some practical stuff, I found that I needed some time to myself to think about this race. So I stretched outside the back of the hospital tent where other finishers were eating, napping and getting massages. I lay alone on my back after stretching for a few minutes, just to take it all in.
Because we had to leave quickly in order to make our flight home, the organizers did a special little interview and podium ceremony with me alone. It was a little strange, but also fun, and I couldn’t help but feel thrilled. We spent a few more minutes chatting with our friends and the friendly organizers, and then we began the next ultra: a nine hour bus/ferry journey to Bali, followed by the seven hour flight back to Korea, plus the usual four hour train and bus trip home – and straight to work!
Lessons Learned
Although I certainly learned a lot from Ijen Trail Running, I also had a large number of things just go right for me at this event. There were so many factors influencing the awesomeness of this race, so I’d like to take a minute to express my gratitude for each.
Behind every good race is great training.
And great training is best accomplished with proper nutrition, adequate rest and a healthy, balanced life. I feel very fortunate that I’ve had the right set-up to do great training this year. Working with a great coach, who encouraged me to learn from this race in new ways, was also definitely part of our success. With her guidance, I’ve been able to understand more about my body and what it needs to perform well. Thanks to Chantelle, I’m continuing to learn more about myself and about training right.
Even outside of the running sphere, I’ve a lot to be grateful for.
As you may or may not know, Kent and I are currently plus one funny, fluffy little family member. This unplanned and unexpected little friend has brought us much joy while also adding a little extra anarchy our already chaotic life. Without the help of a new and wonderful friend, we couldn’t have gone to Indonesia in the first place. Maho, your kindness continues to amaze me! Thank you for being the best auntie Kalahari could ever ask for.
I’m also grateful for Chuseok! The Korean harvest holiday happened to fall the week before Ijen Trail Running. I sniffed an opportunity for an adventure from miles away. To be honest, I registered us for this race before I even knew the dates of this year’s holiday. Then I just had to cross my fingers and wait. The weeks before the race were a bit of a scramble arranging our time off and then arranging our trip. But all that was followed by a week-long trip of nothing but fun in the sun, so I wouldn’t have changed a thing.
I’m beyond grateful for another opportunity to visit one of my favorite countries on the planet: Indonesia! We spent some of our time eating delicious plants and soaking up the cool culture of Bali. The rest of our time was spent on a tiny island in the Flores sea: looking for dragons, swimming with a rainbow of fish and cake by the ocean! Having a week off prior to the race to just play in some of my favorite places was beyond perfect. I know that’s not always possible (in fact I’m pretty dizzied by my good fortune right now), so I enjoyed and appreciated it with all my heart!
Most importantly, I’m incredibly grateful to have the world’s best running partner at my side.
I’m so proud of his excellent race too! It’s a wonderful thing to share this passion with my life partner, and sharing the experience of the race makes it that much better. I’m so grateful for the opportunity to explore the world on foot together, this time at one really cool race!
