Literally. Knowing that Thailand would once again be hosting the Ultra-Trail Koh Chang was a major motivator. Not that there aren’t a dozen great reasons to move to Thailand! But this race was definitely one of mine.
Ultra-Trail Koh Chang took a bit of a break during the pandemic, but happily returned in March 2022. We were signed up for the 70k on the first day of registrations.
Previously I’ve described the joyful return to racing that was Thailand by UTMB. I’ve also detailed the sweet serendipity of our anniversary run-about at Ultra-Trail Phuket. Ultra-Trail Koh Chang completes our hat trick of Thai races.
Three races in four months is not bad, but I’ve been known to get greedy over awesome events. We’d originally had a quintet planned! But one race wouldn’t take our late registrations (that’s gotta happen occasionally), and another was cancelled due to a local Omicron outbreak. But in the end, the fact that we wound up with three – and these three in particular – was practically perfect.
I knew about this event from my days of racing Asia Trail Master. Ultra-Trail Koh Chang had come up often in conversations and in news releases, and I’d long been captivated by it. A run around a tropical Thai island? Yes please!
The timing could not have been more ideal, either. By mid-March, I’d be finished with my public school contract and my visa would still be valid for a couple more weeks. I could run my dream race, and plan a vacation around it!
And so that’s exactly what I did. We flew into Trat a couple of days early to enjoy island life. And how!
We had a couple of classic KnC misadventures en route to the race. The funniest is this: it was not until race check-in that I realized Koh Chang’s ring road did not encircle the island completely. Our cute little cabin was near the end of the road on one side, and we would need to drive for over an hour on our scooter to get to check-in – and the race – on the opposite side!
The most nerve-wracking was this: Ultra-Trail Koh Chang was proceeding despite a sharp uptick in Omicron infections – but the organizers were taking all possible precautions. One of those precautions was testing every volunteer and participant at check in. While we agreed with this safety measure, we were also completely terrified that Kent would continue to test positive, despite having already recovered from covid. We were equally concerned that I might suddenly show up positive, although I’d seemed to evade infection up to this point.
Both of us were truly sweating it during that excruciating 15 minute wait for the results! It wasn’t just that we couldn’t participate if our test results came back bad: we’d be detained in a private hospital at our own expense for several weeks. Brutal enough in and of itself, but we’d also be risking our nonrefundable exit flights, plus potentially overstaying my visa.
Luckily, we both tested healthy and got to proceed into the race site. Whew! Crisis averted.
After picking up our bibs and posing for a handful of photos with the arch, we hopped back on Clicky III for the long ride back home. It was midday, and possibly one of the hottest days I’ve ever experienced. Our 70k race was promising to be a challenge!
But in what turned out to be a major blessing, the race start for our wave was at 4:00 PM! We’d be starting after the heat of the day, and running through the night. Our strategy going into the race was to run hard when and where we could. Where was on the roads linking up tougher jungle trail sections, and when was after dark. If everything went according to plan, we’d be done running by dawn.
Ultra-Trail Koh Chang 70k
We’d trained to run in the dark. Most of our long runs had been almost entirely in the predawn hours in Bangkok’s green spaces. We had not trained to wait all day just to start running! As a result, the daylight hours of March 12th were restless as we eagerly counted down the hours to Ultra-Trail Koh Chang.
After winding our way around 80% of the island’s perimeter, we were driving on the race course. Here were the 100k racers, tough as nails. They were running on sizzling pavement in the tropical heat, only halfway through their challenge. Kindly locals appeared on the road to offer bottles of chilled water or a spritz with a garden hose. We could only shout our encouragement as we sped by in the opposite direction.
Then it was our turn. After parking the bike and slathering on some sunscreen, we toed the line as part of the first wave of 70k runners. Time to RUN!
The start was speedy, but we began comfortably mid-pack. I had no expectations about a competitive finish, but at the same time, I knew we had the heat and endurance training to do well. For me, that’s the perfect zone to be in: it lets me appreciate the race and my own performance the most. There’s virtue in seeking the win and trying something you’re not sure you can do, but this is my happy place.
And this was a happy race! The first few kilometers were so celebratory. Lots of folks had come out to cheer along the road, and the familiar jostle of racers at the start made me glad to be alive.
Unlike many of our past races, we’d only experience a few hours of daylight on the Ultra-Trail Koh Chang course. So we tried to soak it all in! The initial kilometers were on a paved road that wound through coastal villages. Ah, Thailand. With miles and miles of coastline and rugged karst peaks popping up everywhere, you would be hard-pressed to find an un-scenic spot!
Though I enjoyed these early views, I was pretty focused on getting to the second aid station. Why there? Because that’s where the coconuts truck was headed!
As if running around on a tropical island wasn’t treat enough, we were headed for an isolated beach that promised soft sand, sea views, waving palms, and yes, drinking coconuts! This was truly the aid station of my dreams.
So it was only fitting that it was the ONLY place on the entire race course that we snapped a couple of pics! Otherwise, despite incredible views all around, both Kent and I kept our phones in plastic bags. Much like at Ultra-Trail Phuket, we were sweating buckets. Nothing was dry. I scarcely noticed my shorts dripping onto my slick legs, and you could have wrung out my backpack (let alone my shirt).
We’re usually such race tourists that we wondered how it would be to run without trying to capture some of the course for posterity. But during the daylight hours, we were far too sweaty to dare using a touchscreen, and at night, too sweaty and too focused.
But if we’d worried about not having any photographic memories, we needn’t have. I have never encountered the density of photographers we did out on the Ultra-Trail Koh Chang course. Probably not in all of our past races combined!
I kid you not: there was a photographer (or two!) camped out at every single rocky climb, stream crossing, over/under tree scramble and viewpoint. And not only during the day! At night, they had elaborate lighting setups to capture us at all hours. I felt like we were celebrity runners – that we all were. It was fantastic!
(All of this resulted in 700+ photos of us running this race. I downloaded so many of these that I considered scrapping this post in favor of a photo essay!)
Back to the run. It was hard to leave CP2: I think I would have just moved there if I’d had a tent in my pack. But race on we did, eventually. And the fun was only beginning!
Up to that point, we’d only run on various types of road: from sealed routes through villages to rougher gravel routes used only by bikes and hikers. Now, we were running in a streambed!
Nope, not a dry one. There was definitely flowing water that increased as we traced its course upward. And I write running, but what I mean is stumbling, slipping and sliding around: making at least as much sideways progress as forward!
This stretch definitely slowed us down: me more so than Kent. He leapfrogged me as I struggled for purchase and crept my way along the stream, hands high for balance! When we weren’t navigating rock hazards, there were trees to climb, too!
Moving slowly but energized and cheerful. After all, this was still the easy part! The sun was still up so we could see our surroundings.
However, not for long. Shortly after starting the next climb, the sky overhead took on an orange hue. As the sun set, our nighttime adventure began!
We needed headlamps before it was fully dark, because our second significant climb took us deep into a jungle that blotted out the twilight. I remember feeling a thrill of excitement: this is what we came for!
I plunged into the night, with Kent close on my heels and other headlamps popping into view in the foliage like twinkling stars. The course was easy to follow, but not easy. Climbing was often slick, muddy work – and jagged karst rocks would appear underfoot without warning. Downhill was tougher still: often it was a semi-controlled slide down the damp, bumpy trail.
At the bottom of a verdant gully, we rock-hopped our way across a stream in a spotlight belonging to one of the race’s army of photographers. On the stream’s other side, it was straight back up. Hands on knees. Fingers wrapped – carefully – around trunks. Heart-pounding, sweat-dripping: all the good stuff.
When we burst out of the forest in the next valley, I accidentally followed another racer into tall elephant grass. Finding my way back on course, I got tangled up. Though I managed not to bite it, a jungle vine ripped a decent cut open above my right knee. Just a flesh wound!
Onward. After passing through another checkpoint, the course continued through a tree plantation. We ascended on a motorcycle track at first, then eventually found pavement again. The spread of racers across the course widened, and we were often alone.
Sometimes Kent and I will chat more or less continuously during a race. Other times, we share a companionable silence as we lose ourselves in our own thoughts or in the scenery. This night, we were happy to commune with the stars which twinkled out high above the canopy while running side by side.
At some point I got sweat or sunscreen in my eyes, and I couldn’t seem to wipe it away with my t-shirt. So I was grateful to arrive at a cafe-cum-checkpoint along the mountain road! While Kent did a wide-legged watermelon smash, I sat down and dug eyedrops out of my first aid pack. Never been so grateful that I carry those!
Vision cleared and thirst slaked with fresh fruit, we zipped downhill for a while. The next climb was actually a double: a long out-and-back to a remote turn around point first, then the biggest climb on course!
There were lots of surprises here: we hadn’t expected an out-and-back at all, so we were initially confused by other runners coming toward us. Maybe a last minute course change that we’d overlooked? We came upon another aid station in the middle of this leg that was also unexpected. A surprise, to be sure, but a welcome one: they had cold coke!
One of the oddest things was that they had flagged the course out to a turn-around that was unmanned and at a seemingly random point on a forest road. Nonetheless, we flew back through the aid station surprise, and got started on the big climb.
As climbs go, this was nothing outrageous: just a couple of hundred meters. At 10 pm and 6 hours into the race, however, we felt it! But it was another quiet single-track section, which we enjoyed despite (because of?) it’s rooty, rocky nature.
Down the far side, we knew we were kind of leaving the jungle behind. Sure enough, after a stretch of an hour or so sans photographers, we ran through an artificially lit plantation and starred in a few more photos.
Then we were on the road for most of the rest of Ultra-Trail Koh Chang – with one notable exception. It was time to wake the fack up and get the lead out.
I ratcheted up the pace as we hit the pavement, and was delighted that Kent kept pace with me. Although the night had only taken the edge off of a powerfully hot day, we were doing fine. No cramps, no excessive peeing – just smooth sailing. Grateful!
This stretch of the race was an out-and-back towards what looked like a goosebump on the race profile and wound up being – by far – the toughest climb of the entire race.
But to get there, first! On the road, we found other runners again! Some were heading our way and some headed back from whence we’d all come. We cheered them all on, especially the exhausted-looking 100k challengers.
When we finally took the turn leading off the road and into the bush, we were on our own again. This was a remarkably scenic section, despite how hard it would later become. The trail was flat at first, meandering through fine foliage and past a little cabin on the edge of an inlet featuring a sea sparkling in the rising moonlight.
But as we rounded the headland, the going got tough. The flat footpath petered out into a field of karst boulders, separated by stretches of deep sand. Progress was slow.
At least for us. At one point, a ninja in running sandals sped past us and put our sluggish efforts to shame.
But maybe we were just saving ourselves for the massive effort that was still to come. That small hill we’d seen on the course profile was not your average dirt trail. Instead, it was a rocky chute that required four-wheeling it upwards for the better part of an hour. There were no ropes, no rails, no footholds: it was more or less light rock-climbing. No photographers here!
It was actually slightly frightening, particularly at night, when our vision was limited to the radius of light cast by our headlamps. Moonlight couldn’t penetrate the thick foliage overhead, and we felt very far from the cheerful camaraderie of the road. I was thankful it was dry. If the boulders had been wet, it would have been impassible. Raining, an actual waterfall.
I would not have been able to get down the route we went up, so even when we reached the summit, I continued to feel the grip of anxiety. What if the route downhill was similar? Going back wouldn’t be an option. We’d just have to try it, whatever we found ahead.
To my relief, the route downhill was normal singletrack. But I held my breath until we were all the way down, hoping it wouldn’t abruptly change!
Back on the road, we we delighted in moving at a faster pace again. It also felt nice to see other humans again at the checkpoint, and discuss what a harrowing experience we’d all just had! A runner that we’d met at race-check caught up with us and agreed with our assessment of it as a one-way, dry-day only route. It was tough to talk about it frankly with the incoming runners, without unduly alarming the outgoing runners. But it was truly gnarly.
On the plus side, we were now fully awake – and everything else from there on out felt straight up easy. We kicked it into high gear and dashed down the pavement toward another out-and-back and then through the final aid toward the finish.
This was night running at its finest. For many kilometers, we were running our fastest pace of the race! And it felt GOOD.
We only pulled up for a walking break so we could each down a cup of coke at the final checkpoint. I’d entered the state where all of my sugary snacks were grossing me out. I was still feeling strong, but I was nervous about bonking and needing to walk it in. So I availed myself of some Dr. Coke.
It worked. Combined with proximity to the finish, I was able to speed up again and zip in the final five kilometers. What an adventure we’d just had while the rest of the island slept!
We came across the line together, tied for 32nd place out of an eventual 189 official finishers. Our time was 11 hours, 9 minutes – a very happy time for us at this distance! I’d achieved top 10 among the women, and Kent top 20 among the men. But more importantly, we’d had a blast at the race we’d dreamed of for years. Yes, Ultra-Trail Koh Chang was a raging success.
The long road home
We lingered at the finish line, posing for photos and cheering in runners we recognized. But eventually it occurred to us that we were miles from home – that technically our ultra wasn’t yet finished. We still had to make it to our cabin – mere minutes away as the crow flies, but at least an hour and a half by bonky night scooter.
It was just after 3 am. Maybe it was the time we finished or maybe it was the covid restrictions, but there was absolutely no food or drink on offer at the finish. We decided to go to the nearby 7-11 to grab a salty snack and some more liquids. I felt chilled to the bone in the air conditioned shop as I dripped around the aisles.
Outside, I continued to feel chilly and stiff as I vaccuumed up a can of chips. Kent, already starting to feel sleepy, slammed an energy drink to steel himself for the long drive ahead.
We made it approximately 20 minutes down the highway before we needed to take a break. Freezing and exhausted, we pulled over at some scenic seaside benches we’d seen on our way to the race. Probably we should have just slept there until the light of day.
But after a few minutes rest, we pushed on. Driving a scooter – at night, on a windy road – after an ultra is no easy feat, so we opted to take another break at the pop-up tent where we’d taken our covid tests 36 hours earlier. I grabbed a few chairs and pulled them together to make beds. Kent passed out on his immediately while I scavenged our backpacks for space blankets.
I have no idea how long we were in limbo there. Although I dozed too, I kept waking up cold and confused. When Kent woke, it was blue twilight. And we carried on – but just to the nearest 7-11. The east of Koh Chang is relatively quiet and unpopulated, but as we rounded the northern edge, we’d be back in tourist-land and potential morning traffic. Kent needed another caffeinated beverage.
In the end, it took us over 4 hours to get home – a not insignificant proportion of our race. What a sight we must have been to all the normies! My buns had come unraveled, and our clothes started to smell – even as they refused to dry. What’s more, we tried to stay wrapped up in our space blankets for the remainder of the drive. This was incredibly noisy (and made us look – and sound – still weirder), but provided some relief against the perceived cold.
Our cabin was perfectly situated at the top of a hill overlooking the sea. The steps up to it post-race were some of the most hilariously slow and difficult of our lives. We inched our way up them, stood stiffly under the shower and the flopped into bed for a mid-morning nap. Whew!
Soon we were restored, however, and ready for more adventures! Ultra-Trail Koh Chang had been the reason we’d come to the island (and, indeed, Thailand!), but there were other reasons to stay. It was time to play, and we’d earned it!
I can no longer wholeheartedly recommend this race for you, dear reader. My race in 2022 went off without a hitch, and I got my coconut. However, the 2023 edition of Ultra-Trail Koh Chang was canceled just days before the event, stranding runners both domestic and international. Very much like Thailand by UTMB, this race has a beautiful course and is set in paradise – but making it an accessible, international class type of event in the years to come will take some work on the part of the organization.