One hundred kilometers. Up South Korea’s highest mountain, then three-quarters of the way around it. A chance to run through the night. The possibility of changeable weather – or perhaps the likelihood of poor weather. A huge new challenge!
As our first 100k race, the 2017 Trans Jeju 100k promised to be something really special.
The road to 100k
With a few 50ks under our belts, we felt ready to tackle the 100k distance. So in May, almost exactly 5 months prior to race day, we signed up for the Trans Jeju 100k! But we knew we would need to amp up our training for this great leap forward. Anticipating doing a significant portion of the race at night, one of most important things we could do would be to train in the dark. Thanks to the changing seasons and lengthening nights, this was easy! We’d leave the house as the sun was setting in the evening and return in the darkness of night.
We built up to running our very own night-time ultra, the Goodnight Cassini! This was the Friday night that marked the end of the Cassini space mission, as the little probe that had been studying Saturn finally ran out of fuel and plunged into the gas giant. We departed after work, leaving ourselves caches of water at critical points along the trail. Armed with multiple lights and extra batteries, we ran through the night. It was an amazing experience, running under a dazzlingly starry sky and imagining what Cassini could see; acclimatizing to the sounds of the night and occasional surprise noises made by our backpacks and hydration packs. It wound up being one of my favorite runs ever!
Although back-to-back runs had long been a staple of our training regiment, they were especially important now, building up to our longest race ever! Every weekend involved a pair of runs as we amassed time on our feet. We ran on our favorite local mountain, Giryongsan, and made frequent trips to our nearby national park, the amazing Seoraksan. We did a lot of running on Inje’s delightful riverside dullegil courses, and put in some time on our bikes too!
The painful plantar fasciitis that had plagued my left foot during the lead-up to the DMZ 50k was continuing to slowly and surely improve. Both Kent and I were feeling healthy and strong. We hoped that meant we were ready for such a big challenge.
And for this race, we actually did a proper taper, for once! Two weeks before the race, we had a (fantastic) ten day vacation for Chuseok, Korean thanksgiving. We zipped off to Vietnam for a sneaky summit of Mt. Fansipan, feasted on vegan versions of local foods, and just generally enjoyed the good life in one of my new favorite countries!
Then, it was time to run the 2017 Trans Jeju 100k – but first, we needed to get there!
Getting there seemed simpler than it was. We’d registered for this race 5 months in advance. I’d asked my boss and secured us the necessary Friday off to get to the race on time. With a guaranteed day off from work, I’d booked our flights and we’d scoped out food and accommodation in advance. We were prepared! But, a few weeks before we left, something came up.
We do cooking classes as part of a partnership with a governmental educational institute in a nearby town. Without our knowledge, the institute decided to plan a big festival on short notice- right on our race day! Of course, our classes were supposed to be a central feature of this festival. This unfortunate scenario put our boss in a tricky spot. She asked us repeatedly to change our plans, but we did our best to explain that it was simply not possible. Although there were a few days of high tensions, especially in the week prior to the race (and festival), we were lucky in that ultimately everything worked out as we’d originally planned.
So on Friday, October 13th, we boarded a flight and returned to Jeju Island! It had been exactly two years since we did our circumnambulation. Now, it was finally time to revisit Hallasan National Park!
The 2017 Trans Jeju 100k
After taking in some views of the volcano (and the high point of the race!) from the airplane, we landed in Jeju City, and headed straight to the race convention. Actually, the check-in was at a large hotel – and it was pretty quiet when we arrived. First we scanned the printed lists of race bibs for our numbers, unpacked (and re-packed) our mandatory gear and picked up our race kits. One running friend we’d last seen at the DMZ 50k was also volunteering at the check-in of this race, so we had a chance to catch up. We also took some fun photos with all of the race signage!
Then we headed to our home-away-from-home, ate some sandwiches, plastered ourselves with race tattoos (and some handwritten notes), and tried to sleep. It would not be long before the race start!
October 14th, 2017: What a momentous morning! What lay in store for us in the hours and kilometers ahead? All that we knew was that we were excited to revisit an old mountain friend and have a great day on the trails together. And now, race morning finally upon us, we were incredibly eager for the 2017 Trans Jeju 100k to begin!
As is often the case, we set out far too early, reaching the race site an hour before the start! But early is better than late, and we weren’t sure how long it would take to find a taxi – or the site! Once there, we were almost completely alone at first. It was dark and silent; cool – but not rainy or windy. Slowly, volunteers and runners began to arrive in a slow trickle of sound and light. Waiting, we soon found ways to amuse ourselves. For one, we wanted to find a washroom! A little later on, we met a friendly Irish volunteer and spent some time chatting with him. We also caught sight of some of the elites!
After what seemed like an agonizingly long wait, we finally were called to line up in front of the starting arch. It was still completely dark when we all began running at 6 am!
We went out hard, running fast just behind the lead group. Luckily, we were just far enough behind that we did not follow the forerunners as they got a little lost up an oreum (small volcanic cone). Everyone back on track, we all dashed through the dawn towards the first aid station. This first check-point was actually only 5.5 kilometers from the start, so we reached it in no time! We grabbed a little fruit and shrugged out of our jackets before sprinting away.
This second section of the race was my favorite, and Kent’s too! This part features the dramatic climb up Hallasan, Korea’s highest mountain at 1915 meters, on the Gwaneumsa trail.
The climb began in the deep shade of the forest, on dirt footpaths and some wooden walkways. Climbing is Kent’s specialty, and although I’d led at first, here he took over; charging the way up. We passed several runners who’d slowed to a hike as we continued to run at full tilt. But there was one powerful climber that we did not pass, and joined instead. She turned out to be a fellow vegan ultrarunner. The first such friend I’d met in person! The three of us kept up a steady stream of conversation as we all slowed to a power hike on some of the steeper sections.
Oh, this part is gorgeous! At one point on this trail, you emerge from the forest into a clearing, shortly before a large suspension bridge. The scenery on this day was particularly magnificent. The leaves of the trees were all crimson and gold, lining each side of the valley. From here there is also a tremendous view of the summit high above. I was left breathless in amazement. When we’d visited Hallasan previously, in 2014, we’d descended along this route. It was during the same season, but we’d been heading down, facing the other way. So I was delighted by this brand new view!
We continued blazing on up to the summit, running where it was possible and hiking as hard as we could where it was not. Kent frequently praised my speed, and I felt strong keeping up with him! Soon, we arrived at the summit, where we couldn’t help but pause to shoot some video of the beautiful Baengnokdam (crater lake). A friendly volunteer took some hilarious footage of us, but we didn’t linger for long. We wanted to zoom down as quickly as we’d gone up!
So we began heading down the Songpanak route, leaping from rock to rock in what I described in my journal as a ‘fast, hopping pace’. The art of the fast descent is difficult for both of us, but we were determined to do our very best! So we kept pushing the pace, and tried to let gravity pull us down the mountain – while still maintaining an eye on safety. A couple of other runners passed us, but we held a strong pace over the tricky terrain, plummeting down much faster than we usually manage. Soon, we were back below the canopy of forest foliage, greeting hikers climbing up! It did not take long for us to reach the trailhead – and CP2!
Here we found a nice surprise! Another trail running friend was volunteering, and he really took care of us! We were feeling fine, but he insisted on doing everything for us, handing us snacks and ensuring we had ample water for the next section. It was really nice and we both felt extra refreshed and energized leaving this CP!
We crossed over the highway and continued running down into the next section. It became a lot quieter as we’d left the Hallasan hikers behind and the crowd of runners started to spread out. It got quieter still after we passed the 50k turnoff! We ran on dirt roads in mixed forest and grassland, sometimes beside power towers. The sky sprinkled a cooling rain on and off, and we spent some time discussing our happiness that it was neither storming nor excessively hot and sunny. It was pretty much perfect race weather, we thought!
But our bodies were starting to respond to the extreme effort we’d given on Hallasan. That wickedly fast ascent and punishing descent had taken a toll. Kent mentioned a pain in one of his knees, and to be honest, I felt a little tired and sore too! It could perhaps have been worrisome that we were feeling rough so early in a long race, but that’s the magic of ultras. Anything can and does happen, as energy waxes and wanes over the course of a day. Maintaining a patient, positive attitude was paramount, I thought.
We soon found CP3 on a forest road. I was craving salts, but was a little unsure about the selection of chips. I grabbed a couple of ‘potato sticks’ that I hoped were harmless and crunched away. A few other runners ran up behind us and it became a little party in the woods! But a short one, because we wanted to keep moving. Shortly after the checkpoint, we saw a deer! We paused to wave hello while trying not to alarm the creature, and pointed it out to another running couple that were following close behind us.
From there, we got our start on what would be our reality for the majority of the race. We were running on the Hallasan dullegil, a trail that rings the mountain mid-way up its slopes. It is a beautiful trail set deep in the forest – far from any signs of civilization. But its terrain is far from easy. Although it doesn’t have major hills, it is almost entirely rocky; with very little forgiving soil. Featuring numerous dry stream-bed crossings, runners had to navigate sharp little rocks and big slippery boulders up and down, over and over again. This trail required all of my concentration, as I did not want to put a foot wrong here!
At CP4, we met up with our original trail friend (from the 2016 Ultra Trail Mt. Jiri race!). Like Kent, she was struggling with some pain, but was determined to soldier on. She and several other friends ran on ahead of us as we stopped again shortly after the aid station to de-hydrate.
After CP5, it began to get dark. We turned on our headlamps as the last of the daylight faded from the forest. We could sometimes see other headlamps or hear other runners, but we were often completely alone. Although we’d practiced running at night, this would be our first time running all through the night. I felt not a little nervous, but also excited. It was elemental, running in the darkened forest, listening to unknown rustling sounds and the soft sounds of water trickling. A complex swell of emotions saw me shed my first silent, secret tears of this event.
The bright lights and cheerful sounds of CP6 made its position obvious long before we reached it. Emerging into a clearing, we reached a happy little outpost of civilization where our drop bags waited for us. Our friend from CP2 was now stationed here, and he, along with another new friend, helped get us set up with our bags and some snacks. I feasted on nut mix and apple sauce, while Kent enjoyed some hot noodles. I also added gloves and a second pair of socks to my attire, as the night was bound to be chilly.
A steady trickle of rain began as we left this little oasis behind. A Japanese runner that we’d crossed paths with several times ran with us on a brief section of pavement. From here, we could see the glowing lights of Seogwipo below. At 66 kilometers, this was the longest we’d ever run! When we turned off the road back onto the trail, we were once again plunged into darkness; completely alone in the wilderness. (I was grateful for this, especially at this moment, because I was very well-hydrated during this race!)
We navigated by headlamps; alone under the trees, which provided a little bit of shelter from the steady rain. The further we ran, the more the slightly spooky feeling that had haunted me on the previous section evaporated, and I remembered that I’m comfortable in the forest; that I belong there. And so began a very happy time when our pace increased alongside my energy level!
CP7 appeared out of nowhere in a very remote area where two dirt tracks met. Although I was feeling at home in the darkness, I nonetheless was happy to see the nice little garden lights the volunteers had set out on the trail leading to the checkpoint. This checkpoint was like some of the other remote ones – a single vehicle parked on a lonely road with a stash of drinks and snacks. This one set itself apart by its shelter constructed from plastic tarp! We went inside to sit on six-packs of bottled drinks, drink fizzy cokes and rest for a moment.
We were surprised to find one of our friends inside! This was the same friend we’d met at CP4. Unfortunately, she was not doing well. She thought she might have a fracture in her foot, and even walking had become incredibly painful. She had been encouraged on from CP6, but now she knew it was time to listen to her body and stop. It was a horrible decision to have to make, and we really felt for her. Although, at the time, we acted like zombies. It was around midnight and we’d all been running for about 18 hours, so conversation wasn’t coming easily. But my heart went out to her.
Kent and I carried on from there, back out into the blackness. My second wind really peaked during this section, perhaps thanks to that cup of coke! I was suddenly alert and really wanted to run! However, Kent’s knee was bothering him a lot by this point, so what we ended up doing was a combination of walking and running. We (mostly) ran to the crest of a hill on a dirt road, surprised some dogs (actually, they surprised us! Who lives up there in that remote place?), and then began to descend.
The descent was much harder on Kent’s aching knee, and we slowed down. Especially when the way got really steep! I suspected Kent was deep in what our friend had called ‘the pain cave’, and I alternately tried cheering him up and joining him in stoic silence. But suddenly, we came upon a beautiful sight that had us both forgetting our trials up to this point. We emerged from the dense foliage of the forest into a rocky clearing. There, little glow sticks had been arranged to mark the trail, stuck into cracks and crevices and lighting our way in an ethereal green glow! My spirits were immediately lifted, and Kent seemed brighter too. We had fun hopping through the rocks on this little fairy trail!
This trail led us onto a road, and there we found a fellow runner who would later become one of our best friends. We’d been looking for this runner, someone we knew mainly from online interactions, throughout the race! We linked up for a few kilometers to chat about our experiences so far. He’d been running with another friend in the back of the pack, but had gotten chilled and was now speeding up in an effort to warm himself. We all ran in to CP8 together.
This was one of the best check-points I’ve ever experienced. A volunteer stood out front in the road, waving a bright orange baton as though he was directing airplane traffic. It was an extremely welcoming and cheerful sight, and I coaxed Kent into running towards it with me. This aid station was under a large tent, and it was an incredible relief to escape the strong wind for a minute and sit down. I made Kent a sandwich and a volunteer made him some instant noodles. And then, the sweetest volunteer tended to me by giving me the best shoulder rub of my life! I hadn’t thought about my upper body at all, but as she kindly massaged my neck and arms, I felt tension just melt away. It was so great!
It was a little hard to convince ourselves to leave that little oasis, but we eventually did so, running away down the road. The lights of Jeju City sometimes twinkled far below us. At other times, a thick cloud and sheets of driving rain obscured all evidence of civilization. We ran on and on, following a paved road that, at one point, took us through a cemetery. In the rain and fog, with the wind whistling in the treetops and powerlines, it was spooky. Also, I was now terribly cold. My water-resistant rain jacket and gardening gloves long since soaked through, I had no extra layers to add. With teeth chattering and furiously rubbing my arms, I felt like the finish line was a long way away.
A noisy rustling sound began behind us that got louder and louder. A runner appeared beside us, running without a headlamp, wrapped up in his emergency blanket. Emergency blankets! Now there’s an idea! We paused under the marginal shelter of a tree to retrieve ours and wrap them around ourselves in a similar fashion. I wore mine over my head, thinking to preserve the most body heat possible – but wound up deaf as well as chilled. Kent had to holler at me in order to be heard, and even then I could barely make out what he was saying between all the rustling and my dimming mental faculties. We shuffled on like this: Kent calling inaudibly to me and forcing his sore knee on, and me shivering with cold, for what seemed like an age.
Then we found the entrance to the Gwaneumsa trail. Earlier, this place had served as the first checkpoint and now it marked the place where we’d retrace our steps from this morning, just over 5 kilometers back to the finish line. Reaching this point should have been joyful, but instead, I burst into tears. It was silly, and I stopped almost as soon as I started. But there was no denying that it was going to be a long, soggy crawl in to the finish. Kent was powering through his pain, but our progress was slow. I felt helpless when my encouragement couldn’t help him, and frustrated that I’d gotten so cold when in all other respects I’d been feeling good. Plus, the rain was intensifying and thunder rumbled loudly all around us. There was a little bathroom near the trailhead, and we ducked inside to use it and regroup.
After eating an energy bar, resting Kent’s knee and adjusting my perspective, we set off again. The trail over the oreum was a misty maze. We got turned around and lost so many times that it began to feel like a dream. At one point, I spotted bright flashlights and thought that rangers were coming to guide us home. In reality, I think it was just some other racers with really bright headlamps on a parallel trail. We climbed muddy slopes and slipped down boulders. Thunder continued to rumble through the fog.
But finally, we were descending. We ran on dirt tracks and ducked through livestock gates. The rain slowed to a trickle, and the sky began to brighten to grey. It was…dawn? The pale light illuminated our way down, as we transitioned from dirt roads to pavement and finally, to the last meters before that beautiful finish line arch. I looked at Kent, and he nodded his ascent. Yes, we could run the final steps in! We pulled off our emergency blankets and linked hands and gave it everything we had left. We tore across the finish line together. It had taken us 24 hours and 20 minutes, and it had demanded more of us than any other experience ever had before.
So it was with overwhelming feelings of joy and pride that we received our medals – in this case, small stone ‘grandfather’ figurines – classic Jeju souvenirs! We embraced and posed for a couple of photos, and were soon hustled over to a tent handing out finishers’ sweaters. These beautiful North Face pullovers were some of the finest race souvenirs we’ve ever received, and we were delighted!
However, we didn’t have a lot of time to linger and process the experience. The finish area was almost deserted, save for a small handful of sleepy volunteers huddling in the shelter of a few quiet tents. There were no other finishers in sight. But one of the volunteers explained that there was a van waiting that would take us back to the city if we were willing to leave immediately, so we took it, joining some guys from Hong Kong who’d decided to call it quits at CP8 during the thunderstorm.
Lessons Learned
Back in our cozy motel room, we managed to take showers, even though emotions and exhaustion made standing up for even a few more minutes difficult. I had no idea what we should do with ourselves, as it was now about 7 am. But Kent fell asleep immediately upon laying down. I lay down too, to rest my body, but behind my closed eyelids, a movie of our experience played on repeat. I slept only a few winks. We soon woke up starving, and stumbled down the street for some sandwiches. We spent the rest of the day in and on the bed, eating and dozing and resting.
There were many lessons to be learned from this race. Probably the element we reflected on most was our speed in the early parts of the race. This time, we probably really did go out too fast. We were close to the front of the pack for the first third of the race. But, at the time, it felt fantastic to be climbing so strongly. The descent was tough, although I never felt like we overdid it. And afterwards, although I was pretty stiff in the first few hours, I soon felt back to normal.
The pain Kent continued to endure was the most tangible evidence that there was a lesson to be learned. Perhaps the descent really had taken its toll on his knee. But we’ll never know for sure exactly why he was sore, and he also recovered quickly. Within a week, we were mostly back to our regular running routine! So were we too fast? Should we have held back? It’s tough to know.
Another important lesson was about the importance of having a healthy mindset. I like the adage, ‘take what the trail gives you‘ – and in this case, it was a tough, rocky course. Even the elites struggled with the jagged, slippery rocks, clocking slower times than at other races. For me, I genuinely enjoyed each section of the race, and welcomed this new challenge. But it was tough for me to hear others complaining about and criticizing the course. It reminded me of the sour notes of our first Korea 50k race, when runners around us raged against the trails. During these times, I withdrew inside myself to maintain my own mindset. Of course, there were times when I was nervous, or worried about Kent, or cold and tired myself, but I always felt grateful to be on the course and in the middle of a new experience.
In terms of nutrition and hydration, I would say that we were pretty on point for this race! I was better hydrated than any previous race, and I loved having a drop bag to look forward to! Having some of my favorite sweet and salty snacks at the halfway point was definitely a highlight for me! Kent enjoyed his own snacks, as well as a sampling of the sandwiches and noodles on offer at the checkpoints, and was happy in this regard too!
Most of all, I was incredibly proud of our bodies for taking on such a huge challenge and carrying us through a huge new adventure. Kent had amazed me with his resilience and determination. He never faltered. Even though he was suffering, he had his mind set on putting one foot in front of the other and making it through. We had to dig deep, but we made it! Our first 100k was one of our biggest adventures ever.
Interested in running this race yourself? For the chance to run a scenic 50 or 100 kilometer race on Jeju Island, check out this year’s edition! It’s also one of Ultra-Trail World Tour’s Discovery Races for the first time in 2018!