Pacific Coastal Challenge

(This is a long report but well worth the read)

By Luke Cunliffe

The Coastal Challenge is one of those races you look back on and think “What a fantastic experience!” and completely forget how hard it was. Humidity, heat and tough terrain all conspired together to make what I thought would be a nice chilled out beach party which moved to a more exotic location every day.
80 runners from several countries, principally the USA and Costa Rica, took part in this excellent first edition along the Pacific coastline of Costa Rica. I’m that dim I didn’t even know exactly where Costa Rica was or that it was even a country until a month before – I thought it was an island. But hey, geography never was my strong suit. I knew that wherever and whatever it was, I’d probably like the coffee. I’d had it before, you know. I did my usual research (phone a friend) and looked at the Foreign Office website, but that was about it. Apart from the more “likely” exports of bananas, coffee and sugar, another of the main exports of this small country is electrical components, Intel microchips for example. You didn’t know that? Hmmm… stick around, there’s more. There’s a population of only 4.2 million, of whom approximately one in eight is an illegal immigrant from Nicaragua. Everyone speaks Spanish and they buy things with a colon. That’s a currency, by the way. And you can drink water out of the taps, unlike in many other places I had raced. So that was about the extent of my knowledge.

I arrived from the UK late one night and got a cab to my hotel in San Jose, the Capital. The race organisers and many of the runners were staying at the same hotel. It was where we boarded our buses the next day heading for the start village, an unlikely sounding beach resort village called Marbella. On the way, we stopped for a pre-race party in a hotel at a nearby town. A mini-rodeo had been organised outside, complete with horses, cattle and cowboys. All very impressive and not like any pre-race activities I’d ever seen. And this was the first hint I had that this would be not only a race, but a whole week long experience to which not just runners, but their families would also be made to feel very welcome. The party was a great excuse for competitors to meet each other. Before we left, Tim Holstrom, the Race Director, gave a race briefing and introduced all the key event staff.

After that, we pushed on to the campsite at Marbella – we didn’t get there until about 1:30 am and we then had the fun and games of retrieving our luggage, tents, hammocks etc and finding a place in the dark among palm trees to put up our tents and hammocks. Bearing in mind we’d been told we would have a 0900 hrs start this wasn’t going to be much of a night. In the event, the organizers delayed the start to 1000 hrs to give runners a little more time to get organized in the morning.

Flexibility was going to become a familiar requirement on this event as the organizers would constantly be faced with new situations which they could not have anticipated. It’s always an adventure doing a first edition. As usual for an event like this, everyone was enthusiastic to get going and most people woke up at around 6am to start preparing for the first stage.

Breakfast was perfect and set the scene for the week. The locals are known as Ticos and a Tico style breakfast comprised rice, beans, eggs, fresh orange juice, fruit and cereal. This would be roughly the same set-up every day.
Our start at 10am was on the beach. The stage was 31km in total – mainly coastal - gravel roads, dunes, rocky and sandy beaches and a couple of small river estuaries to cross. The sandy parts were ok as the sand was very tight packed. It was a coarser sand than I had previously experienced in places like the Sahara and was a dark brown/red colour owing to it being volcanic. I went out quite strong, probably a bit too strong, as I left about 20th. I finished the stage about 24th The weather was quite cloudy and breezy - which was great for me as it meant conditions were cool. Some still complained about the heat, so I was grateful for the experience of all the desert and jungle races I’d completed in the past.

The day after promised to be much hotter as there would be no cloud cover, so we were told. I expected not to be able to run most of the course on the first day as I had been warned the course wouldn’t be too easy. In fact I was pleased to be able to run about 90% of it. The course was, as they said, quite hard with the hills, sandy beaches and soft, sandy tracks taking it out of my Quads.

We camped up at a school in a village called Garza, where we had more traditional Tico food. The food was shaping up to be excellent, something which made a nice change from many other races. We were told that the day after would be a long 52 km stage - mainly gravel roads, apparently, which would be quite demanding.

This first day was really to be considered as a warm-up. All this was information cheerfully given to us by the organizers.
Stage 2 started very early with a 0430 hrs breakfast and a 0600 hrs start. That wasn’t so much fun. I’m not an early riser by choice, and especially not when on holiday in the tropics. The stage included a few kilometres of beach, around 40km on gravel roads, and the remainder on four mammoth hills, not that high necessarily, but some of the steepest I think I've ever seen outside the Himalaya or the Alps. River crossings were becoming commonplace too, so we had a few of them. I had some really cool shoes with a waterproof upper and waterproof gaiters. I found they weren’t so good for keeping water out when I waded through the rivers, but boy were they good at keeping the water in once I reached the other side. I developed a new drill to cope with this pretty quickly. After each river I would have to stop, take off my shoes and gaiters, and then empty them out. After the first river I didn’t bother with the gaiters any more. The rough gravel roads were generally good but could be quite annoying – with lots of dust being thrown up by passing vehicles.

The hills took it out of a lot of runners, mainly because of the combination of heat and the terrain. And while they may have been tough on the legs, each painful climb was rewarded with amazing views of the Pacific coastline. The weather was much hotter with the promised absence of cloud cover. We were fortunate that a fair breeze took the edge off. I saw my first real wildlife that day, a monkey in a tree beside the route - another pleasant reminder that I was racing in a very different environment.
I was glad to finish the stage. At the finish was a great camp - working showers and toilets – so we all felt very spoilt – and the food yet again was excellent! The organisers seemed to be going to great efforts to accommodate peoples’ nutritional requirements.

Stage Three was 43km, and the organizers promised us a finish at the top of a zip line or aerial runway through the canopy of a forest. I was up and out of my hammock around 0330 hrs and eating breakfast by about 0430 hrs. Our start was slightly delayed owing to fallen trees on the roads causing problems for the buses. So we took trucks instead. Of the whole 43km stage, 22km were on the beach - hence the early start to keep us from the sun where possible - around half was on soft sand on a camber - the other half was fairly hard packed which was straightforward. The camber was causing me huge problems as it was always the same camber and it meant my knees and hips were thrown out by the constant leaning to one side. It was another great day for wildlife lovers - pelicans diving along the shore where we were running, almost synchronised in small flocks of 4 or 5. Other seafarers included several surfers - even at 0830 hrs.

This part of Costa Rica seemed to be a favourite holiday destination for surfers. It was another relatively hot day and the temperature took its toll on many of the runners, many of us having to slow down from our normal pace. We were escorted across several river estuaries by canoeists or small paddle boats as there were fears of crocodile attack. Several runners saw them lying on the river banks near the estuaries. We were led away from the beach along roads and tracks and up a mountain. After crossing over the top we descended a short way down steep tracks until we arrived at the finish of the stage at the top of the zipwire/aerial runway. To give you an idea, there were 9 different platforms connecting the different wires on this runway which zig-zagged down the side of a mountain valley. It was a superb and truly exhilarating way to finish a stage. As we came down the zip wire to a beach in a town called Montezuma we could hear howler monkeys in the trees. The wildlife aspect became one of the most interesting parts of the race. There was always something to look out for.
We were due to take a 6-hour ferry ride from Montezuma to Dominical, with the plan being that all racers would be transported by speedboat to the ferry that was moored offshore awaiting our arrival. Unfortunately owing to rough seas and a late evening departure this was to prove impossible. This meant that a new route to the ferry had to be found and it was agreed the ferry would dock at a harbour two hours drive away from Montezuma. Buses were hastily arranged and before long the whole entourage was moving swiftly to the new port. By the time we finally boarded the ferry it was past 0100 hrs on the day of Stage 4. The start was due to be at 1100 hrs and this was looking very unlikely. Things got worse and we had an uncomfortable night on a ferry rolling around in rough seas, combined with an impossibly long and difficult time trying to get the ferry safely into the harbour at Dominical. The organisers agreed the stage would have to be severely shortened from 22 km to about 10, but in the end we couldn’t even mange to do that as not all of the buses arrived on time. By late afternoon it was agreed to cancel the Stage altogether and runners were given the option of either taking yet another bus ride or walking to the campsite, a 9 km perfectly flat beach walk. Many of us were happy to go for that, as we’d spent a long day on buses and waiting around. It was a fantastic sunset and although there probably a few people who were genuinely missing a full race stage, many of us made the most of the barefoot stroll along the Pacific beach, the seas having now subsided, and the waves gently lapping over our feet and ankles. I could definitely get used to Costa Rica. By the time we arrived at camp it was getting late so, yet again we were left pitching tents and hammocks in the dark trying to prepare for the long Stage 5 the next day.
This would mean an early start, getting up at about about 0330 hrs to get breakfasted and transported to the start line for an 0530 hrs kick off. Stage 5 was one of the most testing we had faced, yet it was by far the most beautiful up until then. The 38 km route began in a small village called Coronado and encompassed a fantastic variety of terrain through jungle trails, open mountain trails, steep uphill climbs and perilous descents through farmland, topped off with a final mile along tarmac roads in a town called Palmar Sur. Several racers got lost in the first two miles, missing a turning up jungle paths into the mountains. This caused a bit of a stir for the organisers as they frantically tried to catch them up before they got too far off course. In the end all were found and they were back on course within an hour or so. The overall placing were unaffected by this so the only consequence was that the lead runners had to run about 2 kilometres further than the rest of us. Bummer, huh? Something which became an extra challenge was that after the ferry ride down the coast the whole course had moved from a dry part of the country to a much more humid region. This meant runners sweated much more and the sweat wouldn’t evaporate as easily. The outcome of this was that racers became much more dehydrated and over-heated than they had on previous days.

The views were stunning for most of the day. The horizon to the East comprised Volcanic mountain ridgelines and there were spectacular views down to the Pacific Coast on the West. Much of the trail passed along a range of hills called the Retinto Range, another volcanic ridge, and this gave us a superb vantage point to enjoy the views. For me this was one of the most beautiful trails on the course and certainly made for a refreshing break from the terrain of the previous few days.
I was rapidly becoming a wildlife enthusiast and had another great day spotting snakes, monkeys, macaws and other native animals.
As dehydration and heat were such major challenges runners took advantage of every opportunity to have cool head showers from hoses at Checkpoints in farms and we all took on board as much water as possible. A number of runners were lost on some of the trails after the mountain ridge but most either found themselves or were helped by locals on the route. The finish was in a town park in the centre of Palmar Sur. After a post-race meal we had another bus ride to a village called Sierpe where we boarded a speed boat.

Under normal conditions this probably would have been a lot of fun, but after a long stage with some hard running and a lot of heat and humidity I just wanted an easy ride to a camp. Instead I spent about an hour and a half speeding over bumpy waves down the river, out to sea, along the coastline and on to a place called Drakes Bay where we were to spend the night.

We had been loaned the use of a local football pitch and village hall for our campsite.
Here I was lucky to find an abandoned hut where I could sling my hammock on the porch between two support posts. This turned out to be the greatest piece of luck for me. Within two hours we were caught in a tropical monsoon-style storm, which lasted several hours. Several inches of rain fell, the streams swelled and many of the racers tents were flooded, leaving many with soaking wet sleeping bags, clothing and equipment. Many had to abandon their tents and sleep on the floor of the main village hall cramped up in rows amongst uncomfortable chairs, tables and equipment.
As I say, I was lucky; my hammock, sleeping bag and kit remained totally dry throughout. It was clear however that this rain would cause major logistical issues for the organisers and changes would have to be made to the next day’s stage. The organisers agreed the course would be shortened and that runners would be given a lie-in until 0600 hrs to help them prepare. We woke early to discover that nobody had floated off in their tents during the night. However, many racers had soaking wet kit and the village hall in the morning looked more like a refugee camp than a race campsite. The course was shortened from 55 km to 39 km to allow for the late start. Runners were given enough time to clear up the mess from the flooding the night before and then we were all piled into motor boats and sent on a 20 minute route along the coast to the start of the Stage.

The start was at a National Park Ranger Station next to the beach. The route took us on a trail through the densest part of rainforest that we had yet seen. It was cooler there so runners were glad of the relief from the soaring temperatures. In addition, the early paths were mostly on hard packed mud, which made running on them a real pleasure for the first time in two days. We were advised that there would be several occasions when we would be running beach sections, which would cross river entrances. The organisers warned us that under no circumstances were we to cross these without being ferried across in small dinghies owing to crocodile and shark sightings. Enough said. Each time I arrived at an estuary I waited obediently for my river escort. At first I thought maybe it was a scare tactic by the organisers to prevent runners from wading out into strong currents, but I was later told that at least two other runners ahead of me each tried to wade across at different times and both saw crocodiles going into the river close by and had to turn back.
The Stage was a really tough one owing to a 24 kilometre long stretch of the route comprising a steeply sloping beach covered in deep soft sand. Desert is one thing, but when you’re leaning to the side for 24 kilometres it takes it out of your body. It was hot and humid too which made the section all the more challenging. A few of the smarter runners found jungle trails that ran parallel to the beach so they had the benefit of hard packed jungle trail only yards from the beach but with shade and good ground. I was lucky enough to find the trail for a few kilometres so continued along it as far as possible. By late afternoon, when the sun was slowly beginning to subside (sunset being around 1830 hrs or thereabouts at this time of year), I was making my way down one of these tracks when I heard a thump on the ground close by, followed immediately by another. I recognised the sounds as being those of monkeys jumping down from trees and landing on the canopy floor. I looked around and saw a herd of monkeys (or is it a flock, a pack or a gaggle – not sure – actually I think it’s called a tribe or a troup) on a tree only a few feet away from me. They were dark chocolate brown, and some were quite large. They seemed fascinated by me and I was equally fascinated by them. I stopped to look at them and they did the same. With sights like that you can’t get too caught up in the race so I stopped for a few minutes to watch the troup as they swung around in the trees, occasionally taking it in turns to sit on a branch and stare at me.

Carrying on a few minutes later I reflected on what a good day it had been for wildlife on the course – crocodiles, monkeys and screeching macaws with their exotic blue and red markings flying around in the trees. And not for the first time whole flocks of pelicans (or is that herds, packs, troups… OK whatever) skimmed across the waves of the Pacific occasionally dropping into the sea to hunt for fish Some of the beach trail took us over treacherous wet rocky patches, some over 200 metres long – these were hard to navigate and had to be crossed with extreme care – one slip could easily cause a sprain or fracture. The last few kilometres seemed to go on forever.
By the time I spotted the organisers’ tent, which marked the finish, I was both exhausted and incredibly relieved. Not long after I went to set up my hammock so I could lie down and relax a bit. It was while lying in my hammock under the new waterproof tarpaulin bought especially for the race that I felt the rush of wind through the camp followed by the inevitable tropical rainstorm. I felt safe and protected under my shelter. It was brand new and I’d bought it especially for the race to protect my open-topped hammock. “Those poor guys” I thought, “Give them a break. Some of their kit isn’t even dry from last night.” And then it hit me from both sides at the same time; suddenly I could feel myself getting soaked from my shoulders and head downwards and from my feet and legs upwards. I leapt out of my hammock and saw to my dismay that there was a deluge of water all over the hammock and my sleeping bag. And my clothes. And my equipment bags. In fact everything. I couldn’t work out where all the water was getting in as the roof of the tarp seemed bone dry on the inside. And then I saw that the two ropes attaching each end of the hammock to two palm trees were acting as a channel for all the water gushing down the trunks straight into my hammock where a puddle was fast forming. I started cursing. This often works in these situations, I find. The louder the better. However much this vented my increasing frustration, this wasn’t resolving the now urgent flood situation in my bed. In the end it was a straightforward decision. I had seen a couple of huts on the campsite and thought I would try to kip down on one of the raised porches there. As luck would have it I found several other support staff and racers in the same boat (so to speak) and we jointly booked a small room with three beds from the campsite manager. It was the best £7.50 I’ve ever spent. Though how we got 9 of us in there sleeping in relative comfort I’ll never know.
The next day would be Stage 7, the shortest and last stage of the race. It was due to be about 10 km, and our start wouldn’t be until later than usual. The last stage was a mere 10km, or so we had been briefed. Well, it was probably the longest 10 kilometres I’ve ever run in my life. More like 15. The route was circular, starting at our camp and heading out along jungle paths which twisted and turned up and down some small undulating hills. The road passed through a couple of valleys where we could see monkeys leaping around in trees and hear and see macaws flying overhead. For those who hadn’t seen any wildlife on the course this was their final chance. The lead runners’ positions had now been so firmly fixed that instead of racing for the line some jogged together and enjoyed each other’s company for the first time all week The final few kilometres were along the beach on the Pacific coast, for the first time, heading north. It was interesting having the sea on our left for a change and the difference in camber was welcome on my knees and hips which had been used to being thrown off kilter the other way all week. It seemed forever before we finally spotted the finish tent. I was pleased it was finally all over.

The Coastal Challenge is an excellent race and a superb concept. Bring your family along with you and while you put yourself through a gruelling (yet always beautiful) stage, they can enjoy some of the local adventures, including zip-lining through the canopy of the jungle, snorkelling along the reefs, paddling canoes through mangrove plantations spotting crocodiles and lazing on the beach among others.

The race is a tough one with a 250 kilometre course over 7 days. Runners need to be able to cope with constant hills, mountains, wet feet, beaches, tropical climate as well as hot/dry conditions and living in tents for a week.

Facilities were generally good with showers available every day (although often a local freshwater river was available instead), lavatories, and comfortable places to site tents. If you are thinking of doing this race in the future I would recommend taking a tent not a hammock. Although it saved me one night I had constant difficulty finding suitable places to install it.

The food was excellent for a race environment – each runner had been sent a detailed nutrition questionnaire before the race to assess needs and the food on the course and at checkpoints reflected the results gathered. No-one goes hungry on this race! The experience of running in Costa Rica is a memorable one and it’s another of those races I would go back to year after year if time and money were no object. And the idea of being able to take families along for an adventure holiday is a great selling point.