The Jungle Book: Stories from the Jungle Ultra (Part 1 - The Amazon Adventure)

This story is really about what I loved about this race, rather than the actual race. Spoiler alert - the actual race went very well and I will tell you all about it later but most importantly, it was an adventure in the heart of the Amazon jungle and a life changing, shared experience with inspirational people. I took so much from the Jungle Ultra and am acutely aware that my written ramblings can lose even the most patient and avid readers so I am breaking them up into a few bit size pieces, which naturally starts with giving the reader an idea of what the jungle experience was all about.

The journey to the jungle

Over the last few months, I have had a singular focus on one goal: the Jungle Ultra - a self-supported 5 day, 230km ultra-marathon in the Amazon, known as one of the hardest footraces on the planet. If I complete it, I have finished Beyond The Ultimate’s Global Race Series, being only the third person to reach this achievement.

My journey into ultra marathon running would never have happened without someone taking a chance on me. In 2008, I was given my first 'proper' job and my new manager, Julian, turned out to be one of the most influential people in my life. Not only did he hire me but he also got me into running. He took me on very my first run and roped me in to doing my first marathon all the way back in 2009.

Julian is no longer with us but is often in my thoughts. My challenge in the Jungle Ultra is in his memory and is an opportunity to do him and his family proud. With the chance to complete the series and do so in Julian's memory, motivation is high. 

A taste of the Amazon adventure

This title is a little ironic after I literally sampled a rather large taste of the Amazon. After the perfect start to day three, taking the lead in the race, I managed to accidentally drink litres of unfiltered Amazonian river water due to some exceptionally poor admin with my lifestraw. Fortunately I got lucky and vomiting didn't ensue but this could have been race-ending on another day.

This served as a perfect example of the dangers we were exposed to. Despite the many more obvious risks in the Jungle, the Race Director quite rightly let us know that the most dangerous thing in the jungle was ourselves. Looking after yourself out there is the single defining factor for making it through the course, whether it’s hydration, electrolytes, nutrition, sun cream, pacing, insect repellent or navigation, these are all things within our control. And let’s be clear, there are very few animals that want to be anywhere near us, despite our fears of being eaten by a Jaguar.

Over the course of 5 days and 230 kilometres, we ran through areas of the jungle where no tourists are allowed to enter. Outside of the local tribespeople, only 100 people have ever stepped foot in the terrain we were immersed in. The jungle course itself was hand crafted by machete: backbreaking work that took months for a small local team of Peruvians, resulting in our own personal running trails deep within the Amazon.

The jungle was my happy place and it felt like a real-life, nature-based assault course. We were treated to rope assisted climbs, treacherous trails, scrambling over logs and trees, riverbed hikes, knee-deep mud, stifling humidity, sharp ascents and technical terrain down steep descents. 

The Amazon Jungle is both beautiful and deadly with every part of the jungle out to get you. The local residents, including biting ants, blood sucking mosquitoes, snakes and spiders, are accompanied by the equally beautiful and deadly environment. This all made for bags of fun and I was in my element in this jungle playground, simultaenously respecting the need to concentrate in every moment, watching my footing to avoid injury, placing my hands where they wouldn't get bitten and not staying still long enough for the insects to make a new home for themselves. 

Hammock life

A unique part of this experience was carrying, setting up, taking down and of course, sleeping in our hammocks every night. Hammock life was interesting: some found it uncomfortable and some, like myself, loved it and it’s very cool to know that we were literally sleeping in the Amazon rainforest every night. However, it’s fair to say that the worst bit about hammock life was the other humans. I found the sound of the jungle very calming but at night this was drowned out by the snores, farts and conversations of forty other runners. The hammock had many advantages but sound-proofing was not one. I guess the good news here is that the risk of being attacked by animals whilst in our hammock station was slim to none with any tropical creature giving us a wide berth for a few hundred yards.

I shouldn’t have laughed but one of my favourite moments of the race was a dry witted runner called Marshall shouting “will you shut the f*ck up?”, to another runner. The unnamed affable and talkative athlete in question was chatting away in camp a few short hours before we had to rise for our final and longest stage. We were due to cover 75km starting at 4.30am so Marshall was perhaps correct to question whether it was the right evening to shoot the breeze after bedtime hours but the poor fella was probably a little bruised by the experience.

Rumour has it that in the days that followed, Marshall prodded the hapless runner with his hiking pole every time he snored.

We digress...but this feels like a good place to finish.

That's all for now and I hope the reader is successfully immersed in the Amazon experience. Alongside the majesty of the jungle and our hammock dwelling was, of course, a race and a finish line. In my next blog I'll talk about how the race went for me and, more importantly, the experience of completing it with an inspiring group of people. Watch this space.