Panama Ultra Trail Marathon

I’d never cried tears of joy after finishing a run until I finished the Reto del Indio.

But lets backup, how did I end up running a trail marathon in Panama. Well, my wife volunteered for this group called Global Voices back in 2012, and they sent her to Kenya for a conference. There she met a Panamanian named Ariel. Three years later we all end up living in DC and then during the COVID-19 pandemic we decide it would be good to form a comune (aka Ariel and his wife bought a house and we rented from them.) Shortly there after Ariel ran the Reto del Indio - a 55, 105 or 250 km race that runs east west across the isthmus of Panama. He talked about how amazing it was, the ups and downs, the heat, the food, and I was intrigued.

A life long runner, the farthest I had ever run was ~30km in my mid-twenties when the flat irons of Boulder were my backyard and I would run up them to burn off the stressors of grad school. At 35 with a growing family, I wasn’t sure I would have the time or energy to train for a 55km race. But I’m also a little competitive. And when Ariel said the winner of the 55km distance averaged 12 minute miles, I thought I might be able to win a serious distance race for the first time in my life. So I booked my flight.

Ariel has recruited two other friends to the run the Reto as well - Davis, a seasoned ultra runner and mountain biker, and Jonathan, an photographer and natural athelete who after training for a month was already crushing 20 mile runs. We had a text thread going to stay motivated during the long training period and had regular calls to figure out logistics.

After the initial excitement I dailed my expectations back as I started getting closer to the 55km mark in my training - I wanted to finish the race without walking too much - 11:30 miles maybe. It turns out, you can do a lot of training with a 2 year old as long as 1) they sleep well in the jogging stroller, 2) the weather cooperates. Lucky for me my daughter loved going on runs - she would climb in the stroller, ask for a snack, a toy, and a book, then prompty fall asleep with a half eaten banana. Things got a little trickier when we added a puppy to the mix, but when he was old enough it turned out he enjoyed going out for a jog as well. So I had my two constant companions on my runs.

Turns out training to run very long distances takes a lot of time. I’m very grateful for the nice trails near my house, and the support from my wife to let me go run for three hours while she watched the toddler and the puppy. I spent a lot time looking at the trees, seeing the brown and grey of winter advance, rejoicing as cold rain gave way to warmer, sunnier days. I was dedicated, trying to hit all my training goals inspite of a busy travel schedule. I ended up running in Guatemala, New York City, Wisconsin, Mexico State, and Morelos.

As the race approached, I was excited. I knew I was ready, I knew my friends were ready, and I was going to get to spend time in a country I had heard so much about. Initially I had wanted to get to Panama a week a head of the race to acclimatize but work and life conspired against that. I ended up arriving two days before the race straight from the valley de Toluca in Mexico State. This was a boon because I had been training at 8500 feet before arriving to relatively low Panama, but it meant I hadn’t done any proper heat conditioning.

I arrived at the airport, found my friends, and stepped out in the Panamanian heat. It was oppressive. We waited for the rental car to be ready out in the parking lot and I was sweating. Ariel was in his element, and it turns out Davis had been sitting saunas to prepare for the extreme heat. The sweet relief ac plus excitement of being with friends in a new country was intoxicating. I didnt think about what it would be like to be at kilometer 40 under the sweltering sun. I was stoked everyone made it down safely and we were going to get “massive boats of sushi”.

After spending the night in Ariel’s friend’s aunt’s house we headed up to Valle de Anton where the race would start. Side note for biologists, this is the same valley in Panama where golden frogs went extinct. We spent the day exploring the town, eating, and talking race strategy.

Jonathan went to bed at like 8pm so he would be fresh for the 6 am start. The rest of us stayed up a little later, having a beer and double checking that we had the correct route downloaded on our watches and phones.

Get to the start and there is a definite buzz as well as a giant pot of Sancocho. The race starts before the sun comes up. I hung with Ariel for the first 3 miles, doing some high knees and butt kicks, making sure my legs were loose. Then, as soon as we got over the first big hill I couldn’t help myself. I opened up my stride and let gravity carry me down. I was flying. I caught up to Davis just after the sun came up, then we made it to the first aid station. Jonathan ran right past us and I knew I wouldn’t be able to catch him. I was feeling amazing, and let my lungs and legs dictate the pace. As long as I my heart rate wasn’t over 130 I was happy with whatever pace my body felt like running. Soon I left Davis behind and started running with a Colombian and a Panamanian. We ran together for a couple hours, stopping at all the aid stations, enjoying the cool shade of forested paths, and fresh breeze that came off a creek running along the trail. Thats when the other guys started talking about “el mono”. I didn’t know what they meant - Panama and Colombia have a rich vocabulary of slang words.

On a steep downhill with loose gravel, the Colombian twisted his ankle. He encouraged us to keep going, he would just walk it off and start running when he could (it turns out he did finish but hours after us). When we arrived at the third aid station the Panamanian asked what position we were in. Turns out we were 4th and 5th. We had been cruising at between 8:30/9:30 pace and my heart rate was starting to creep up as the sun got higher. The Panamanian said the monkey was on my back and I finally understood what he meant. The monkey is the sun.

The farther down we got the drier it was. We tranisitioned from upland cloud forests to lowland shrub. The only good shade coming from mango trees people had planted. I had to slow down. I wished the panamanian luck and watched as he ran ahead. I tried to keep my heart rate down and started jogging a little more slowly. This was lonely work, apparently there was a big gap between me and sixth place.

The stretch between the third and fourth aid stations is known as “El infernillo” or little hell. It was a dry, dusty trail through thorny brush. The bright white sand on the trail reflected the sun back up at you, and the thick bramnles blocked any breeze. My running rhthym was set to a prayer for a light wind or cloud. Knowing I only had go a little farther to reach an aid station. The infernillo spit you out onto a high way. Curiously, it was election season and one of the candidates had flags similar to the colors of the aid stations. I thought it was strange that they would fly such tall flags at the end of the infernillo but maybe its a well trafficked area. On I went, wondering where the fourth aid station was.

I getting nervous until I saw a gel pack on the side of the road. My watch said I was on the right track, but there was still no aid station. Now I was running on blacktop. I could feel the heat coming up through my shoes. I was desperate for water and for shade. Fortunately, a group of locals had setup a roadside aid station with plenty of cold water and some bathrooms. I greedily drank three ice cold liters of water and chatted happily with the locals. They said they hadn’t seen anyone come past yet. I was still feeling very hot so I stayed in the shade a little longer. One person went by and said I was leading the pack. I couldn’t believe it. I set out again, apparently in second or third place.

The shrubs gave way to grass, with the occasional mango tree for shade. The sun was directly over head, pounding down on me. I was losing it. My heart rate was steady, but I felt like I might passout. I was walking from mango tree to mango tree, wishing for more water in my pack. Finally I stopped at a farm and explained to the owner what I was doing and asked if he had a hose. After hosing myself off for a couple of minutes and drinking several more liters of water I felt like my self again. The farmer filled up my water bottles and I was off.

By the time I left the farm the leading edge of the pack had caught up with me. I saw third place, then fourth and fiftih run past me. I literally did not care. I set off at pace I thought I could sustain under the blazing sun. Thankfully my prayers were answered, and some clouds rolled through, releasing a couple of drops of rain. I started running with an Argentine who lived in Colombia. We were going at a respectable 11 min/mile pace and chatting until the sun came out again. I struggled to get to the next aid station and stayed until I felt pretty well recovered. I set off within a couple of miles the heat got to me again. Someone had set the forest on fire right where we were crossing the pan american highway. So I slowed down some more because of the smoke. Somehow my phone called my mom (I confirmed that this wasn’t a hallucination later that evening) and so I talked with here for a couple of miles until we got to the last aid station. I was beat. I had to walk. Now more people were catching me. Then I guy on a bike rode up beside me and asked what was going on. He gave me some water and some encouraging words, and I lumbered on. Thankfully the last little section had more shade, right before it opened up onto the beach. As soon as I saw the sand I knew I had less than a km to go, so I booked it to the finish, running hard over sand as people lining the course cheered me on.

When I crossed the finish line I was overcome with joy. Tears were in my eyes and I found my friends who didnt run in the race. I was the first one of the friends across the line and something like 14th overall finisher (8th mens). There were massages and ice baths and food. It was great. About 20 mins after finishing I got a little woozy from the heat again. Medical staff gave me some breathing exercises and sat me down in the shade which helped.

Davis was the next one to arrive, then Ariel, and finally Jonathan. Davis also suffered a little bit from the heat, Ariel’s shoe fell apart, and Jonathan followed first and second place down the wrong path then ate too many gels and had to rest for an hour. He looked the freshest when he crossed the finish line.

Ariel’s wife Hannah shuttled us back to the apartment we were staying and strongly encouraged us to shower. Ariel’s family had made a feast and we all greedily dug in. Going up and down stairs was a challenge but falling asleep was easy.

The next day, my last non-travel day, we headed back up to the Valle de Anton for a “recovery hike” - not a thing. It was gorgeous. We saw two sloths and did some intense scrambles. Going downhill was much harder than going uphill. When we got back to the apartment we went for a swim in the ocean then had a pingpong tournament after a fantastic dinner.

The following moring I said good-bye to everyone then Ariel got me on a bus that would get me to the metro that took me to the airport. It went very smoothly. A+ trains in Panama City that take you right to the airport. I arrived to with plenty of time to reflect on all the wonderful aspects of the trip - the food, the people, the coffee, the race, the “recovery hike” - such an amazing time and I’m so thankful Ariel convinced me to go.