When my flight was booked and I finally got my Visa to Brazil, I only then began to think that I was in fact headed 13 hours south to an island in South America to run a jungle 50K. So I packed my bags and boarded the plane, bringing with me the course map to study, a quick guide to Portuguese, and two pairs of trail running shoes for the race. I anticipated it being warm in Brazil (because that is all I’ve ever heard of the country), so I didn’t bring many clothes. Yet somehow I forgot that because it’s in the other hemisphere, it was still winter there. Needless to say, I could have used more warm things.
I arrived in Sao Paulo after a long flight, cruised through customs, and looked for someone holding a sign I might recognize. There was The North Face logo, and Rafael Niro, Brand Manger for The North Face Brazil. He ushered me out of the busy airport and off to the island of Ilhabela, nearly 3 hours away by car and ferry. Once on the island, I was introduced to a variety of native foods and customs. I had the chance to try some fruits I had never heard of and try to get used to the motorbikes whizzing dangerously through the streets. We even drove 20 minutes to a quiet beach on the end of the island to enjoy a little bit of sunshine on what was otherwise a cloudy and cool week. The North Face team in Brazil welcomed me with open arms.
Race morning was cloudy, cool and wet. Since the 50K event didn’t begin until 4 p.m., I had the rest of the day to visit the expo area and watch the Xterra triathletes in action. The expo was set up on the beach near the hotel, and the area was busy with athletes and spectators enjoying the scene. I got acquainted with banana-flavored gels and acai protein bars. The North Face had a large covered area filled with photos and product and people looking to buy sporting equipment. It was a busy day for everyone, as many of the TNF staff planned to run the 9K or 18K events later that evening.
As the rain continued, I began to get concerned about trail conditions, especially on the top of the mountain where we planned to run. Everyone kept telling me it would be “moody” out there (muddy). Not knowing much about the course, I envisioned muddy jungle trails with roots, vines and rocks, which later proved to be correct. Over the course of a couple of hours before the race, I changed my clothes several times and decided to bring the waterproof jacket I had used for UTMB and to wear my Single-Tracks. It was probably overkill, but I really didn’t know what to expect out there.
At 4 p.m. we all gathered at the start of the race on the beach. The gun went off and it was a fast start on the cobbled streets of Ilhabela for a 10K loop. Immediately, I was able to identify my competition – one Brazilian woman – and decided to keep my eye on her. As we headed out of town, we climbed through some neighborhoods, past a bustling bar, through someone’s backyard with laundry strung from the trees, and onto a dirt road that led up the mountain. The rain was falling steadily by then, and when we did hit a section of single track as it started to get dark, I got my first taste of what it’s like to run in the mud in the jungle... lots of slipping and trying to keep my balance among rocks and roots.
Over the course of the next 30K, I traded places with the Brazilian woman several times. I would catch her on the uphills, only to have her pass me on the sustained downhills. I gained some time on the technical trail sections, but once we summitted and headed down the other side of the mountain, she was right there with me again. The rain continued to fall and the roads and trails became large, messy puddles. We entered some single track and I proceeded to fall about 20 times, on my behind, on my face, on my side, to the point that I had mud in my mouth and up and down my body. I was relieved when we waded through a waist-deep stream and I was able to get some of the grime off me. In addition, the rain had created a dense fog on the mountain and I was forced to dim my light in order to see the road and trail. I tried to keep my speed, but felt like I was fighting the conditions.
We hit the beach on the other side of the island and followed torches along the length of the sand. A little stray dog decided he wanted to run with me for awhile as well (which I’ve heard is actually pretty common at races in Brazil). With the rain falling steadily, it was a relief to make the turn and start heading home. I powered up the next few climbs, as the rain poured down. I have never before run in that kind of rain. I saw some large, hairy spiders and giant grasshoppers, and heard a variety of tropical birds and monkeys in the trees above my head.
At the top of the final climb I found myself alone, in the dark and rain, and wondering if I had somehow gotten turned around on the trail. I passed a couple of male runners who didn’t speak English, and came to an aid station where it seemed the kilometer marking was wrong, but the volunteers couldn’t understand my concern, so after a few minutes (and some broken Spanish) I figured out I was headed the right way. It was all downhill from there.
The run into the finish was fast and slick. The cobblestones of the streets of Ilhabela kept my attention on the footing until the very end of the race at the beach. I crossed the finish line in the sand, grabbed a pear (fruit is the aid food of choice in Brazil, it seems), and had a minute to reflect on this very different running experience in Brazil. I had finished second, only a few minutes behind the first place woman. We spoke in broken English and took pictures with the other runners, who all seemed excited about the experience. It was the first 50K many of them had ever attempted. And then, of course, it was time to party… something the Brazilians know how to do well! What a wonderful opportunity to spend time in South America and to represent The North Face with a great group of people at a special event. It will be exciting to see the sport of ultra running grow in Brazil. I am proud to be a The North Face Endurance Athlete and to be part of the TNF international family.
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