I woke up on Sunday morning at 3am to get ready for the 14K trail race. It was located in the Escobar district in Paraguay. It was a two hour drive and when we arrived it was still dark. You could hear fellow racers warming up and talking.
As this was a longer race (14K), I made sure to pack dates, electrolytes and honey to keep my energy levels high. My plan was to eat a date and drink a few sips of electrolytes every 20 minutes.
I have only been running for four months, but I did have expectations for myself since I had managed to finish in the top 30–40% in previous races, although I had never ran 14km before.
My race was scheduled at 6:45am, but due to electricity outages it did not begin until 7:00am. As we gathered near the start line with around 360 other runners, the sun began to rise and the hills and scenery surrounding us became visible. I took it all in and looked at the sky while the race announcer mentioned we would start in a couple of minutes.
It was around 12 Celsius, quite cold for Paraguay and people were wearing jackets and jumping up and down to stay warm. Before we began, I was confident I had trained and prepared well, so I hoped to finish in the top 20%. As soon as we set off, I realized this was an unrealistic expectation.
In the first kilometer, it felt as if hundreds of runners overtook me. My watch showed I was running a 6:30 min/km pace, which was surprising. I told my partner everyone was going fast and she said, “Let’s see what happens when we go up,” referring to people slowing down after the incline that was coming.
From 2km to 3km there were extremely steep inclines (30–40%), some parts requiring scrambling up on all fours. I couldn’t run them and had to power hike (see "Me on the 400m steep hill climb" image below). Others overtook me as they managed to keep running on these climbs.
Me on the 400m steep hill climb
At 4km we reached the top of the hill, around 500 meters of elevation. It was incredibly scenic with views of the hills and forest of Paraguay. By this time my heart rate was around 180 bpm, well above the 165 I was aiming for at this point in the race. Above 168 bpm is my lactate threshold, so I worried about burning out when I saw that 180 number on my watch.
From 5km to 7km there were many steep declines on single trails within the forest (see “Rocky steep decline” image below). This part was fun because you could go fast on the downhills, grabbing onto trees and branches like Tarzan to stop from falling as you hurtled through the forest. There were also waterfalls and streams you could run past, over, or through.
Rocky steep decline
The decline section was the most technical part of the race and where it became difficult for me. Because it was single track, I often got stuck behind slower runners I wanted to overtake but couldn’t.
At the top of one particularly steep section, I tried to overtake two people who were standing on the trail. As I passed them, I lost balance and hurtled down the decline uncontrollably, hitting my face against a tree. Luckily I didn’t sustain serious injuries and got away with a small cut on my forehead and a bloody nose (see “Hitting head on tree injury” image below). The runners asked if I was okay in Spanish, and I responded, "Tranquilo" meaning "Don’t worry" before continuing - slightly shocked and thankful it wasn’t worse.
Hitting head on tree injury
There were runners from the 7km and 21km races also on our trail. The lead runners of those races were advanced and would catch up to us recreational runners. When they wanted to pass on a single trail with no space, they would shout “Pasar!” (“Move!”). I always let them through, understanding some are competitive runners who treat this sport as their profession, while for us it’s a hobby.
At the halfway point (8km), I was in 159th position (top 45%). I had been running most of the race at 180–190 bpm, well above my lactate threshold and was fatigued physically and mentally. I noticed my body wasn’t working normally. I tried following another runner who jumped over a small river. Normally I would have made it, but I mistimed the leap and fell into the river, scraping my upper thigh against the bank and creating a wound (see “Mistimed river leap injury” image).
Mistimed river jump injury
By now, I had a bloody nose, a cut on my leg, and was very fatigued. Still, I knew I needed to persist until the finish. I stuck with a group of runners for a few kilometers. They were faster than me on the flats, but I made up ground on the declines and by skipping aid stations since I carried my own hydration and food. By 11km, I overtook the group when they stopped at a station, moving into around 125th place (top 35%).
After this aid station, my quads started cramping and the blisters on my feet, which had been forming since 5km, began to hurt with every step. I drank more electrolytes to calm the cramps, which helped, but I slowed down. Soon the group I had passed caught back up, overtook me and ran out of sight.
At the aid stations and along the trail, people cheered, gave high fives, and shouted encouragement in Spanish like "Fuerza!" (strength) and "Vamos, vamos!"(go, go). Small kids asked for candy. That encouragement gave me joy and pushed me forward.
At 12km I overtook a few more runners who were either walking or jogging very slowly, and then with 2.5km left the real challenge began. My quad cramps grew worse and spread to my calves. Breathing through my bloody nose was difficult. I was in real discomfort. This was when I went to “the cookie jar” (a concept by David Goggins) - reminding myself of past accomplishments to push through difficult moments. I remembered achieving the highest grade in my university despite a family member passing away.
The final kilometer was flat with sandy terrain. Runners from the 21km and 7km races joined this stretch. I felt unusually emotional. I emptied the tank, giving everything I had. Crossing the finish line, people applauded and the announcer read my number and gave me a high five.
After crossing the finish line, I jogged to a stop, walked a few steps, then collapsed to the ground in the fetal position, crying uncontrollably. People came over to check if I was okay, and I said I was fine. To this day, I’m not sure why I was so emotional - maybe it was simply the release after pushing myself so hard.
I finished the Jasy Jatere Trail Race 14K in 2 hours and 19 minutes, 129th out of 358 people (top 36%), gaining 27 places in the second half of the race. Average pace: 9:56 min/km (see “My results” image below).
My results image
Overall, it was a tremendous experience, I had a chance to push myself to my physical limit. Also I feel like I grew spiritually - learning patience, humility and appreciation for the journey as much as the finish.
Me and Romina with our medals, both relieved and happy we finished this intense race :)