Monday 21 May 2018

Transvulcania 2018 (or "Tales from a very lucky man")



When I turned 60 I thought it was time to set myself some new goals. One of those was to run another sub-23 hr West Highland Way race (or PB if possible), be first V60 in that race and to get my 5K time back under 20 minutes.

Well foul weather on the day put paid to my sub-23 hr WHW but I still achieved a sub-24 and managed first V60 so it wasn't a complete failure.  In November of last year I finally manage a sub-20 5K at our club time trial which I think in some ways I was more pleased with than my WHW finish!

Anyhow, when I started planning my races for 2018 I wanted to challenge myself again with some new goals and take myself out of my comfort zone.  To this end I applied for Transvulcania, the West Highland Way Race (partly because my daughters were keen to act as support and perhaps foolishly, I still think there's a chance of a PB), Lakeland 50 and most scarily of all, Deadwater (a 235 mile 6 day stage race from the Scottish border to the Welsh border)

Training-wise, my year started badly. An early trip  on a cruise ship up Norway resulted in inevitable weight gain and missed running opportunities.  My wife and I also succumbed to a dreadful hacking cough/flu that was doing the rounds on the ship and this resulted in nearly 5 weeks of lost training.  I had been due to go to Donnie Campbell's Spanish training camp shortly after our return from our cruise but I was far too unwell to travel.

As a knock-on effect of the above I also withdrew from my first planned "training ultra" of the year, the John Muir Way 50K.  I did this last year and I felt it gave me an excellent start to the year.  So, all in all, not a good start, overweight and under-trained.

So, that made Transvulcania my first ultra of the year, one that I had chosen to pit myself against elevation, altitude and temperature, only now I was facing it without the benefit of a large chunk of training that I'd hoped to have under my belt by this time.

I had been working hard on my local hills and been concentrating on short races and speed but long training runs were very few and far between. One 20 mile run just before I was flattened with the flu and a 15 mile trail race up at Balmoral, that was more or less it for long runs.  How this was going to prepare me for 74 km of mountainous trail, at up to 2,400 metres of altitude with the possibility of extreme heat thrown in I was just going to have to find out on the day.

For those who know nothing about the race, Transvulcania takes place in the Canarian island of La Palma, the western-most island in the group.  It's a bit less easy to get to than the other islands but well worth the effort.  Main industries are bananas and tourism but it's also an important place for astronomy with a plethora of large telescopes at the highest point of the island

As the name implies, the race runs across the volcano(s) that make up this island.  Starting from the youngest in the south of the island (which last erupted in 1971) the route takes you up the "spine" of the island and around the brim of the ancient Caldera de Taburiente which was formed  three to four million years ago.

Its a route that is just fantastically inviting and promises stunning views en route.  I've always prefered "A to B" races and this perfect for anyone who feels likewise.

Whilst not the highest of the Canarian mountains you do spend a significant time working hard at over 1,800 metres and either I was getting old very quickly or I was feeling the effects of the altitude at that level.








We chose to stay in the T10 Taburiente Playa hotel just south of Santa Cruz which is the race HQ for the duration of the events.  It has the advantage of being in the very centre of things with althletes everywhere (including elites if you're into stalking). It's a big package holiday sort of place with buffet meals which were okay if a bit tiresome after a bit. 



We had chosen to go out nine days before the race to give us time to explore some of the island and the race route and if you've not done the race before I would reccommend this. Why nine days?  Well for us the easiest way to get out there was flying with Thomson/TUI from Manchester which only goes once a week so the choice was going out two days pre-race or nine days.   It was very comforting during the race to come across the few parts that we had walked before and feel like I was running in familar territory.

Race registration took place in the hotel which made life very simple and you get a nice jacket, a technical T-shirt and a small rucksack that many folk recycled as their drop-bag.

Anyhow, enough of that, on to the race!

Breakfast is served from 2 am in the hotel and at 3:30 the coaches start to leave from nearby to take us to the very south of the island.  Well not actually the very south, they chucked us out with about half a mile to go but with the clear skies at that time of night and stars, it was a magical walk.

Although the sky was clear it was very windy which was whipping the volcanic sand and dust everywhere and it was hard to find shelter from the wind whilst we waited for the 6am start.  During this time I agonised over what to wear, what to carry and what to leave in my drop bag to be taken to the finish.
The air temperature wasn't particularly low but the chilling effect of the wind made it feel positiely parky.  In the end I chose to just wear everything until 15 minutes before the start when I ditched my water-proof and lightest jacket and carried my "intermediate" light-weight jacket in my pack.

To reach the start line everyone had to undergo a kit-check.  The list of compulsory kit is small however; a mobile phone, a space blanket, a head-torch and 1L of water carrying capacity. Anything else is up to you.  In addition to the compusory kit I had my folding walking poles, emergency "toilet kit", a sun protection hat and a few nibbles.  There's no need to carry too much in the way of calories as there are feed stations en-route.

I had read about the importance of not starting too far back due to the bottlenecks early on in the course but once I got through the kit check I discovered that the only way of joining the 1600 or so runners already there was to walk right to the back of the starting pen. Oops!  Ah well, I didn't want to go off too fast anyway, did I?



Having accepted the situation I was able to improve upon it a bit by wriggling forward but if you want to be near the front, you have to get into the starting pen early.  I would have done that but was just too busy sheltering from the wind and making last minute kit decisions.

The race clock is projected on to an adjacent rock face providing a giant screen so that everyone can see the countdown.  At 00:00:00 race time fireworks and hooters go off and we were away at last!

In a change from last year the runners run up the winding road from the lighthouse for the first mile or so.  This was changed in an attempt to reduce the congestion at the start as the paths are relatively narrow.  It's impossible for me to know whether this helped or not as I know some runners had to queue for some time at "pinch points".  Personally, I never had to stop for more than 5 or 10 seconds on two occasions during the climb to the first town of Los Canarios at 7 km and 700 metres above sea level.  The path is across a lava field and the rocks are sharp so you want to be careful how you fall.  I had two stumbles on the way up followed by one fall in the dark which cost me a very small amount of skin.

 Pleased to see more than a few runners behind me at this stage.

 

It was at Los Canarios where we had our first major encounter with the fantastically enthusiastic Canarians who were out in huge numbers to cheer us on.  You have to bear in mind that it wasn't long after 7:20 am and cold when I got there and people were everywhere, including small children, some bundled up in sleeping bags by the side of the route.  So, despite the stiff climb it was impossible NOT to run uphill through the town and high-five the kids who had their hands outstretched.  Drinks were available here but due to the cool temperatures I hadn't drunk anything yet.

From this point onwards the use of poles were permitted.  It had been decided that the combination of narrow congested paths and walking poles was a dangerous and I think it was a good decision by the organisers.  Somewhat surprisingly I didn't see anyone flouting the rule although there were plently of places where one could have made good use of poles before then.

From Los Canarios the route changes suddenly in nature and you're in Canarian pine forests.





 Las Deseadas checkpoint 16.5K 1,800 m alt.



Looking north towards the ridge of the Caldera. Finish line in the town in the lower left
 

The ground underfoot was pretty loose and soft however and whilst not as soft as true sand say, it was relatively sapping to run on.  From 700 metres altitude we slogged up to 1,900 metres on our way to the first major check-point (and cut-off point) of El Pilar.  It was now sunny and the skies were blue but the temperature was staying relatively low due to the wind so the anticipated heat wasn't a problem, yet.  After what felt like a never ending series of ups and downs we had to lose altitude to drop down to 1,450 metres at El Pilar (24 km).  As we descended we dropped into low cloud that frequently covers the "saddle" of this island.  Out in the open, the cloud was fine but if you were any where near trees the pine needles trapped the water and produce low level "rain" that could be quite heavy at times if you were downwind.
 Getting a bit misty and wet in the low cloud that covered the saddle in the ridge on the way to El Pilar

The El Pilar cut-off was 5 hours race time.  I knew this pre-race but if you've not done the race before you have no conception of how hard this is going to be to achieve. As it was I arrived here at 4:31 (race time) so I was in no trouble but I was very aware that there were a *lot* of people behind me and I had felt like I was pushing on fairly hard the whole way.  As it turned out a lot of folk did fall at this first hurdle.

There was a large feed station here.  I can't honestly remember what was available but I really enjoyed lots of fresh melon, some orange slices and some banana here.  This is also the point where the "half marathon" finishes and the "marathon" starts.  Both distances are approximate and generous.


 (The clock time is for the half marathon that started at 7:30)

Muriel had managed to get herself to El Pinar using the free buses put on by the organisers.  It is the only way to access this point and is quite a faff to do so I was very appreciative of her effort, even though I was keen to keep moving.

After El Pilar the route flattens out for a long, and dare I say, slightly boring stretch.  This runs right along the ridge but this part of the ridge always seemed to be enveloped in low cloud whilst we were on the island.  Consequently plant growth is lush, rain-forest like and the views, for a while, non-existent.  Still, we were steadily if slowing climbing again and eventually we popped out of the cloud and were able to enjoy the fantastice views right across the caldera and even down to the finish line.  It looked tantalisingly close but I think we were no more than a third of the way around the course at this point.  Despite this it was hugely encouraging to see most of what lay ahead of us and the finish line.

From now on the temperature was steadily climbing and the sun was strong.  I was very glad of my "cap with curtain" to protect my head, neck and ears.  I was also wearing a lightweight solar protection long sleeve top that I'm convinced helped me in keep cool.  Not only does it reflect more sunlight than skin I think it's a more effective evaporator of sweat.

I rather lost count of the intermediate check points but the next major landmark that we were heading towards was Pico de la Nieve (2,200 metres, 42 km).  This was memorable for the cruel way that with the peak almost within your grasp the path plunges from 2,130 metres down to the checkpoint at 2,020 metres.  Now 110 metres of drop might sound like small beer but climbing out of the checkpoint to regain that altitude was so so hard.  The path runs almost straight up a small ridge and it had me gasping for breath.  It was at this point that I really felt the effect of the altitude.  The heat was continuing to build and from Pico de la Nieve onwards I was taking advantage of the head and hat soaking services that were provided at all the check points.
 Stunning views from the high point of the island.



From here to Roque de los Muchachos (the rock of the boys) was just 9 km but felt far longer.  On the level or very mild inclines I could still run but any significant slope or uneven ground slowed me right down.  It was hard, very hard at times, but when the views are so stunning the pain of the running was easy to ignore, or at least "set aside".  I was finding that I seemed to recover my breath more quickly than many others though and could resume running quickly after a steep climb so I got plenty of opportunities to call out "paso" to slower runners.

RdlM marks the highest point of the course and there is another major checkpoint here with a cut-off time of 11 hours.  Lots of fruit, nuts and hot food!  I grabbed a plate of tuna pasta here and it went down without touching the sides and I felt great after it.  Now it was just a small matter of shedding 2,400 metres of altitude over the next 18K! 


Mana from heaven
 
The conditions underfoot are treacherous and technical so you've got to concentrate hard virtually the whole way.  On the few occasions when the was the odd moment of smooth path it felt absolutely fantastic to blast along but those opportunities were few and far between.  It wasn't long though before were were descending into pine forests again but this time we were on the sunny side of the island and no low cloud.  Low cloud would have been welcome now as the trees were doing a poor job of keeping the sun off of us and the heat was still pretty intense.  Nevertheless, with the occasional head and hat soaking, the heat never became a real problem for me.

During my descent I came across a runner being airlifted off the course.  Not too badly injured or ill I assumed as they were lifted in a sling rather than a stretcher.



Eventually I reached El Time, the last check point before descending the "Vertical Kilometer" course. Once again the checkpoint was well supplied with food and drink.

The Vertical Km is a bit of a misnomer.  It's more that a vertical km to the bottom and officially "too long" and a bit over 7 km in length.  Apparently Vertical Kms should all happen within 5 km but maybe that accounts for it being nearer 1,140 metres absolute climb/drop and I think near 1,600 metres cumulative.

I had heard a lot about the final descent and how awful some people found it but remarkably, my legs still seemed to be bearing up well and the only part that really made my knees protest was a short steep section of concrete road through a banana plantation.  I was actually better on uneven paths hopping around than on a straight smooth surface.  Fortunately there was lots more of the former.



 View down to Puerto del Tazacorte

It was on this section that we again came across the enthusiastic locals.  Not in such number as back at Los Canarios but the field was obviously a lot more spread out so not surprising.  I took advantage of a road-side "shower" rigged up by a local for another session of cooling.  It really did feel fantastic.  Worth getting over-heated for!

After much zigging and zagging the end was getting ever closer and at Tazacorte port you pass through cheering crowds and a finishing arch.  The only problem is, this isnt the ultra finish!  It's the marathon finish and I still had another 5 km and 300 odd metres of climbing to do to reach the ultra finishing line.



I knew that this was coming however and with a goal of "just finishing" I could relax and enjoy this last 5 km, about 3 km up a stretch of river bed and then 2 more km with 300 metres of climbing. 



Police were on hand to stop all the traffic at points were we had to cross any roads which was nice. It's very evident how much all the emergency services are involved in the race with police, fire, ambulance, red cross and helicopter rescue services. 

The final climb came to an end and I entered what looks to be an enormously long finishing straight.  It's pretty flat however and after plodding and poling my way up the hill it was actually a relief to start running again so that's what I did, I ran the whole finishing straight.  Rather cruelly they have 5 or 6 arches over the road and from afar you can't work out where the finish line is and it only becomes obvious in the last few hundered metres.




 I finished in 14:37:22, a mere 7 hours after the winner. 1,051st out of 1,368 finishers (1618 starters).

As I mentioned earlier, the cut-offs seemed pretty tight for many runners and of the 250 non-finishers, only 5 are listed as "DNF"s, the other 245 as "DQ"s.

I thought this was a fantastic race and I would love to do it again sometime.  That said, there are just so many great races to have a go at but I'd heartily recommend this to anyone who enjoys hill and volcanic islands.  I'm currently agonising over whether to do the Blue Trail Ultra over Mount Tiede (in Tenerife) next year, the Transvulcania, or maybe even both. The Canarians really seem to know how to put on a big race and they do it so well it feels like it would be hugely disrepectful not to finish.

Although I know I've trained to do these sorts of races I will never stop feeling incredibly lucky that I have the health and fitness to do them and a long suffering wife who puts up with me running them.