'24 IAU 100K World Championships x The Bengaluru Part

Wednesday, December 4 - The 4-hour flight on Indigo from Bangkok to Bengaluru was easy, albeit barebones (the Allegiant of India), and despite all the shit I'd warned the team to be weary of, entry/customs was also easy. I was on a kind of high from the ease. Recently told MM that this is my MO, you know, expecting the worst and how good it feels when it isn't, but he didn't think that was the healthiest. The better view is probably expect nothing, receive everything. 

The drive from Bengaluru airport into the city tricks you via funnel. Along Bellary there's several lanes and space to drive, then it becomes Tadipatri & you're siphoned into that Indian-specific bedlam. In Hyderabad, the traffic, maneuvers & horns were of great novelty. I tried to decode it; found a sort of rhythm in the language of palms, horns, braking - the serene body language & facial slack at odds with the acts. In Bengaluru it was almost inappreciable, like, "Oh that? I didn't even notice." - Says the self-important itinerant. In the swollen, at stoplights, several knocking on the window in plead, a baby even, knocking, pleading, and how it feels to deny, turn your head, ignore. 

There was some quandary with the host hotel, The Chancery, ahead of our arrival. It was the 2nd hotel we'd been transitioned to already, after we'd paid room & board fees for the original a few weeks before arrival (the original was more costly & the excess was not reimbursed). The team leads transitioned us to St. Marks a short walk away (all other federations & event activities maintained at Chance). Gratefully this was all done while KB & I were drinking Singhas in Bangkok. 

We arrived at St. Marks at 5:30 pm, the start time of our first team mtg. Without checking in or dropping bags, we were circle-sat & discussing tell-us-something-no-one-knows, how many kids do you have, and here's the plan. After, checked in by two smiling similar men, one named Mathew, the other Krishna, which Kris noticed & appreciated, a perhaps other kismet. 

The lot of us walked to The Chancery for dinner (we'd do this for every lunch/dinner). Hung out with a new beloved, Allison & my old beloved, Liz Eder-Northern (roommate) in our room; Liz & I's two twins pushed all but a finger together. A slit perfect for losing things in. 

Thursday, December 5 - Up by 5 am. Walked the stairwells as Liz slept. Ryan with the excellent eyebrows & veritably kind disposition knew I hadn't brought shit by way of personal bottles (see: wanted to maintain 1 backpack on the trip) and kindly lent me a few of his personal soft flasks for the race. I don't accept kindnesses easy & as I saw it, I was taking from what he had prepared for himself. He's so damn nice, and assuring, and I won't forget that when he could easily have not, he did.

7 am - Breakfast at St. Marks, serving: curd, pineapple pastry cakes, gulap jamoon, banana smoothies in petite cups, "dry cake," grilled chicken with pomodoro sauce, pale chicken sausages, a jar of tartar, fish nuggets, coconut & peanut chutnies, sambar, rawa & plain idlis, aloo paratha, bhatura, channa masala, puliyogare, corn cheese dumplings, black chana, green moong dal, cheeses, preserves, an omelet bar. Over breakfast Liz's dad told me he had a dream that night that he was covered in tattoos and tried to wash them off & asked if mine have any meaning. Told him it's more about where I got them than what they are: souvenirs. He said, "We get magnets for the same reason." I said, "I'm a refrigerator." And this is generally how most conversations probably go with me. Liz and I shared a plate of papaya (which we both feel outperforms the US') with lime and salt & double espressos. 

9 am - Left by 70's Scania bus for Course Preview. The Scania was a beautiful dirty white log, with Castelvetrano-colored tapestries, a maroon & black striped rug down the center, bucket seats with white toppers, orbed & angular lighting, the fire extinguisher behind a gold curtain, and this handsome bygone driver with long hair & beard. It took 1.5 hrs from hotel to GKVK University. The lot of us ran the course loop together - half the team veterans, the other new & no one with an ego or anxiety so telling they needed to do their own thing at their own pace (easily warranted). I'm not sure I've been on a team where this was a thing. Along the course at GKVK: Nat'l Tuberculosis Institute, Institute of Flavor Technology, a bee farm, a large black centipede with red legs, dogz lazing, hordes of school children all in in a line, high fiving. 

The ride back was another exhaustive 1.5 hrs. A quick lunch at Chance: malai paneer tikka, murgh tikka, Peri Peri fish fingers, fish curry, mutton biryani, puttanesca, honey chili chicken, "exotic vegetable in oyester sauce," greek lemon potatoes, vegetable hakk noodles, peas pulao, rasam, sambar, yellow dal tadka, miloni tarkari, cabbage pori yal, shahi paneer, boiled egg & corn vegetable salad, roasted fish & fried potato salad with capers, chicken sausage & apple salad, grapefruit with mesclun, sprout corn & pepper salad, papdi chaat, curd rice. Desserts: milk cake, rasmalai, kheer kadam, moong dal halwa, bread butter Danish pudding, rich kitkat brownies, assorted French pastries, blueberry "cold" cheesecake.

Straight into a tuk tuk with KB, Nicole & Patrick, sighting colored birds in stacked cages, to our cooking class with Manju in the urban-RT Nagar area. Her home, off a thin street and enclosed by iron wrought. Within, Christmas. She ushered us through pvc strip curtains to wash our hands. The menu we'd work through: Chicken 65 (Manju's favorite), Chicken Ghee Roast, Chicken Biryani (what I'd like to call The Great Layering), Chicken Korma & Chettinad Chicken. Each would spend some time at the head doing prep, compilation & conclusion (scissoring chilies, removing the cocoon of seeds, roughly cutting, precisely measuring, coating, layering). Fits of eye itch, nose tingle, sneeze & cough, the slow squeeze of the room's air, choked by chili, pepper, mustard seed, cumin, paprika, coriander, garam masala, turmeric & nutmeg. Further choked when put to flame. A mass of tissue boxes.

It was slow and then suddenly fast, each recipe layered towards singular climax. Spooned into serving dishes & placed at the center of a long table where the four of us plated ourselves. Manju is a joy. She enjoys her alcohol, namely Sula's sparkling wine for its sweetness and sour apple liquor. I'm grateful Kris organized the class for the 4 of us. 

Later that evening some of us ladies perused the shops at Chance. There was a wall of pashminas where Lin & Sue got suckered into micro-analyzing the variance between hundreds of them, putting them on, tossing a corner over the other shoulder, "oh this is not me," "oh this is close!" The pile of unfolding, of discarded growing. Dessert with the team: vanilla ice cream with multi-colored candy rocks that looked circa '97 fishbowl bottom.

Friday, December 6 - Woke up with rod tight hip-flexor-to-rectus femoris-connecting lines on both sides (new). I think I overshot my load on the strides at course preview. Perhaps paired with the amount of sitting/travel time (incl. the bus ride to/from GKVK), I think I wasn't ready to run sub-5/mi pace, even if for just 10s. I was & am greatly displeased by the amateurity this illustrates.

7 am - a group of us ran from the hotel to Sri Chamaragendra (Cubbon) Park: gated, pedestrian-centered, leafy. To the FC/Indian Super League track at Sri Kanteerava Outdoor Stadium for a few laps. People were bench pressing and long jumping.

After, we watched the World 100 km Panel Discussion feat. Liz on stage beneath an exorbitant crystal chandelier. I did henna. A woman from the LOC complimented; made her do some of the linework. It felt like asking for something you want, being given it, and then feeling like you captured a piece of a shared human experience & you're proud of yourself for suggesting the setup (wow, gag me, but the feeling is real). As I finished the hand & Liz her speech, the reporter from Lithuania surprise interviewed me and said something like, "Americans tend to be really confident, then there's Charlie Lawrence...and on the other end, there's you." Made me laugh. Couldn't argue. 

Later on, the women's team met in our room for further henna, massage, and general tactic planning, which consisted of a lot of "we'll sees," I think all of us aware that no matter the planning, we were at the mercy of a most unusual thing, a thing that would dictate, not be dictated. Bottles prepped.

Dressed in our pantsuits, walked to Chance Ballroom for Opening Ceremonies. Charlie was interviewed by Lithuania guy wearing sunglasses inside. I think we got a little riotous in that tamped down way where if you don't express it a little you might implode, ie Lin rage-played solitaire as the speeches spieled. Each federation did their walk up. When it was our turn (2nd to last), carrying little flags, the screen behind with our flag gave out, we started to walk off, they called us back so we could do it properly save for this time it was a mini flag hiding behind our backs, so we stood there a while as they tried to fix it to make the flag big enough to be seen, and I feel like there's a metaphor here. 

A sick dance sequence with a very agile central figure. KB speculated it was Elov up there. I've got these bum hip flexor quad lines still rodding & then I go to stand up and I've suddenly thrown my ankle out. Limped out of the ballroom. Managed to stop for a stroopwafel served on a silver platter by a Nederland guy & then, after a while, got my ankle back in place. 

Took some pics by the pool. Did some flat lays & then our team leads kindly orchestrated a private dinner at St. Marks so we could be together in a quieter, in-bed-earlier way. Dinner: pesto pasta, garlic breadsticks, salad with onions, tomato, cucumber & parsley, chicken, rice. 

My love, Carla Molinaro sent me over: "My friend go and crush it this weekend! You are on fire and this race is yours! Go get that crown so we can both sit in a swimming pool in South Africa drinking margaritas from a doughnut shaped inflatable ring being queens of the world hahahaha! Heads up, tits up, go fuck it up." KB brought by a collection of art he'd organized from friends who drew renditions of my likeness at TH, or generally. They are incredible, and the gesture from him & all left me muted. I squirm under the feeling of that gesture. Liz hung her children's drawings of me around my bed; these children who'd grown to draw a likeness, who'd been babies in Romania on our first world team together. Pounded the leftovers from Manju's class in bed. Asleep by 8:40 pm with an alarm set for 9:30 pm to sign up for the Chuckanut 50k. 

Saturday, December 7 - Down for breakfast at 3:45 am; a semi-sui generis: 2 sugared donuts with a date shoved into centers, a hardboiled egg, a single link of unclothed chicken sausage, a bowl of maurten bicarb, and espresso. KB kindly brought a 2nd personal stash coffee. One might wonder: what does it feel like pre-race when you've eaten Indian food all week, including right before bed on the eve, and hunks of raw onion & all that coffee? It feels like you might imagine - that I needed pepto. 

The team & our people got on a private bus. Ryan & his dad wrote "Texas 4 Ever" in the fogged window. Lin sat up front with a stack of colorful buckets for our ice, drinks & bandanas. Sat by Chikara in soft talking peace. Dropped at GKVK Campus, our table the last in the long line, and directly alongside the medical tent which held metal framed beds with plaid bedspreads. Accoutrements in place, things on ice. Lubed up. Chipped. Checked in. They delayed the start by 15 min to let some sun rise. 

6:15 am - Race starts. The field size felt more substantial than it had in '22. 21 laps with the first an abbreviation (each lap shy of 5k). Ran the first 1-2 miles with Allison, then, aside from a brief spell with Ireland (my beloved Caitriona) & Poland, I was mostly alone. It was both boring & slightly engaging - people to see ahead, to be felt behind. Considered a "closed course," I never expected it to be after my experience in Hyderabad, but the level or style of it at GKVK was farcical: mopeds, motorcycles, cars, ambulances, people, braiding between the racers, or slightly clipping, or stopping them in place. At one point I was nearly clipped by an ambulance. It pulled in front of me to then make a 90-deg. turn, couldn't make the turn & started reversing into me. Had to run down an embankment, through a ditch & back up to get away from it. Many a racer were shouting, throwing their hands up, smacking cars. After some complaints to staff/our leads, the traffic seemed to quiet. That, or I just went inward & was too dead inside to realize a continuation of the fuckery. Add to that macaque monkeys with bright pink buttholes investigating discarded foodstuffs. It's an adventure, the road 100k. 

Felt my hip-flexor-quads from start to painful finish. Aside from that & stomach acid, the first 8 miles felt good. Lol, 8 miles of a 100k. After mile 8 I became increasingly more uncomfortable. Started to feel sleepy; couldn't keep my eyes open. Stopped at the US aid station & took a ketone shot, a caffeine chew & coke, which helped (but yikes). All of this India, the heat building, all that caffeine, taking in nutrition in humidity, lent towards a record number of bodily exports. One time, after holding it for a while, I stopped at a porto at the bottom of a long downhill & found the pot filled above the toilet lid with blood & shit in a spew across the back wall. After another lap past it, I saw 2 hapless souls squeegeeing the thing, excavating its insides into buckets. 

By halfway a localized pain above my left knee bloomed; it grew sharp & finite. Charlie had dropped (due to his Achilles) and kindly gunned my quad. I ran by Caitriona (who also dropped, bc she couldn't breathe, asthma exacerbated by the air quality) & asked her if she knew anything about acute localized pain in that area. She noticed I was bruising & spoke to our medical while I continued. I think they told her I'd be fine (lol, Great). She was saintly & empathetic, seeking info for me, delivering it. I valued being able to complain to her, to see what she did under the pressure of someone else's issue, when she herself hadn't had her day. Because I was bruising, and after what I'd experienced last year at the 50k WC's, where they chalked it up to a knot when it was a 2-tear, I started panicking. Had a 2-lap panic attack - we're talking 10k of panic here. In hindsight I wonder if it (the panic) could have also been due to aqi, as I'd heard a lot of people had breathing issues during. Panicking is fucked, because you're not able to breathe & stressed about it. Started to cry. Stopped in at the aid and took more time than I would, Lin offering handfuls of choices to try to soothe me; also chaotic because you don't really need 6 options when you're panicking, or ever, just the one you planned for. Straight up said I was afraid I was hurting myself & wasn't sure I should continue but was kind of softly ignored and encouraged on. A tactic for sure. It only got worse, and by mile 54 I'd had it. I decided before entering the aid station that I was going to drop. I come in crying. Someone suggests some pain meds. Lin says we're in contention to medal. I say, "Yeah, but how close is it?" Trying to decipher if it was still possible for the team to if I dropped. "It's really close" she says, without telling me what we're fighting for - Gold? Silver? Bronze? I take the pain meds, grab like 5 things: iced sponges, a soaked hat, a bottle of coke, nutrition, and hands full, continue, thinking really mad thoughts if this counsel I've been given lends me towards a broken leg for the sake of a medal. I am in the exact same position as I was in in last year's 50k, which was one of the worst racing experiences of my life. And it's the same, but twice as long & twice as bad. *Trust that I've thought PTSD was speaking louder than physical actuality. 

It took a few miles, but the meds kicked in. It was also helpful that at the top of the long climb, at the LOC aid station, there was a volunteer with spray cans of Biofreeze that he'd raise his eyebrow in ask & I asked him if I could take one & he let me. Held onto the Biofreeze for the rest of the race, spraying my leg in intervals. My QL's started to go, so took it to my back, but I'd unknowingly chafed at the hem of the race top & so sprayed Biofreeze onto open burn. Then, it trickled down lines of sweat, into my clinging wet shorts & burned the chafe rims of the sensitive liner bits. Honestly, self-curated burning took the edge off the localized quad pain. Here's a picture: I'm wetter than wet, fabric & skin bathed in piss & Biofreeze, bruising, chafing, burning, sponges stuffed into my top, and I'm holding 6 things. All for the love of the game. 

I milked our aid station like it was a full gear reset in the middle of a 200, every time, which was 20 times. This is not conducive to fast championship running. In one of my appeals to Caitriona to save me, she said, "You're doing great! You're in 3rd!" And baffled, thought, maybe a lot dropped? On the next lap she goes, "I'm so sorry, I was wrong, you're in like 11th." Lmfao. 

Thankfully, Allison was given information that with one lap to go she was 1:30 behind a Japanese runner, and if she could get her, we'd slip into 3rd. This is the kind of info essential to championship racing. 

When I finished, I wasn't in the results; chip went awry. They work me back in, and there I was 10th, not a clue that I was. Thankful, a smidge, that I wasn't 11th, though Nicole was, and she's a saint so she prob wouldn't say something pessimistic. 

Half of our men dropped (Charlie, Geoff, Ryan) for sensible reasons (torn Achilles, breathing/energy issues, severe drop in blood sugar lvl). The other 3 (Chikara, Kris & John) looked strong throughout and finished well. Chikara was 6th (6:40:57), Kris was 18th (7:01:12) & won the Master's Championships at the not-so-Masters age of 35, and John was 22nd (7:08:29). Altogether they were 4th Team - pretty damn good for having lost half their men. Japan's Yamaguchi won handedly, over 12 minutes ahead of Aguilar in 2nd, followed by Okayama, also of Japan. 

Women - myself in 10th (7:48:21, near the exact same time I'd run at the Hoka Carbon X2 Project in '21 when I was injured), Nicole in 11th (7:52:00), Allison in 12th (7:56:28) - the depth is deep! Polina in 19th (8:15:48), Liz in 25th (8:30:58) & Neringa in 33rd (9:00:36) - a rarity that all of our wmn finished. We were 3rd, ahead of Japan by 2m43s (mf'in Mercer closed hard). 2m43s - that's the amount of time it took for me on just one of my multiple poop stops when I ran into the woods because the portos were like murder venues. It was inspiring to watch Hot, Brumelot and Webster braid between one another in fierce battle. Hot is now the 2x 100K World Champion. Brumelot is literally just back from an fx, and Webster also medaled at last year's 50k WC's. Full results HERE. 

Judge had photoshoots and autograph signings with team Thailand. People put feet into ice buckets and tried to keep themselves from throwing up. Drank some pickle juice. The bus ride back went a lot smoother than '22's in Berlin. But it was long. Fatigue like a blanket, making weird words, bonding, eating cheetos. Left my phone on the bus. Dr. Pierre did a few-mile jaunt trying to catch the driver. Never thought I'd see it again. Put me in a mood. Put me in a mood that I needed it. The shower was not as painful as I'd imagined it would be. Back into track suits. To the Awards Ceremony. Servers ever-there with platters of fried things & dipping sauces. A buffet of rice & pasta dishes, viscous soups w/ spindly toppers. A bar with Kingfishers & SULA wine - the pours to the rim in hell yeah make me feel less (or more). Awards were sick. Hands behind the backs of each other on the 3rd box. Masters Awards. Several of our teammates having won or placed. Traded clothing with other teams. Allison coordinated a swap of my total collection for a Thailand coat & said the sweet Thai athlete started crying. Polina & her husband snagged me an always coveted, hard-to-acquire top from Japan's team. The majority of us had flights out late that night to the wee hours of morn, so goodbyes felt quick after we'd just endured what we'd endured 12 hours prior. Caitriona, her beautiful husband, John (Ireland's team lead), plus some supposed other Irishmen showed up & we went to the rooftop bar at The Chancery for celebration extension. 

On the rooftop we had cocktails & locally brewed beers & Elov joined. Stayed until we needed to head to the airport for a 4 am flight out (got my phone back 30 min before we left), and then, buzzing, we grabbed our things and left Bangalore.  

As much as this is full of magnifying the uncomfortable nuance of racing an ultra, a road ultra, a road ultra in India (body ails, body spoils, errors of judgment, errors of communication, self management, course management, macaques), which might come across as petulant & quibbling & like duh, it's also a sick honor, a sick experience, and something I absolutely love working towards & prioritizing. I feel fortunate to have made US teams & fortunate the USATF & IAU backs it (albeit in a perhaps small way). I'll always do whatever it takes to perform well for the US/Team, but I'm 2-for-2 in performing well in India, and I'm either tainted, should cease, or I should give it the old fool-me-three. 

Nothing fills me more uniquely than experiencing a different part of the world with a group of people who are sore in the same places. When other competitors didn't have their day, when our own didn't, each celebrated those who continued & made it their priority to help the remaining finish. This is a testament to the spirit of the sport, at least in ultra road racing.