K24 Ultra trail 2021 (in English)

Come listen to my story

I'll tell you no lies

How Martin did ruin

His poor calves and thighs

    K24 is a 100 km trail race in Karawanks mountains in Slovenia. Many people told me that the mountains were beautiful and the race was great, so this year I gave it a go.

    After a mostly uneventful journey from Prague to Maribor I reunite with Michal, a fellow Czech runner, and we board a bus to Črna na Koroškem, where the race starts. It takes more than two hours to reach Črna. I use this opportunity to get some sleep. Michal uses the time to have a couple of pre-race beers. 

    The collection of start numbers and starter packages is pretty straightforward. The race starts in four hours so we have plenty of time. This time I did not bring my signature low-carb cricket flour bread with me so I set off to buy some food. Michal grabs his fifth beer today and we pose for a picture. I never drink alcohol before or during the race, but not wanting to damage the reputation of Czechs as a nation of beer drinkers, I get at least a non-alcoholic one. We discuss our ambitions at this race. We want to do it in 22 hours and I feel this may be a bit too ambitious. After all, Michal's on antibiotics and I am just an aging programmer in a waiting list for joint replacement.

Bob & Dave, version 2021

    It's getting dark, the brass band starts to play and a lot of people gather. Not really the runners, but it has attracted a lot of local seniors. I slip into my running gear, apply some lube on and I sip an energy drink. We pose for the last photo. There is no pre-race briefing, there was one online, but it was only in Slovenian, which I don't really understand even though it is a Slavic language just like my mother tongue.

    The race starts and we run down the road at Črna. Apparently K24 is a big event here, the whole town is on its feet and everybody came to cheer on us. I love the atmosphere. To ensure the safety of the participants, a police car blocks the main road, a fire engine blocks another road, and since by now the local emergency services have run out of vehicles, the next road is blocked by a tractor. I've lost Michal, he must be somewhere behind I guess.

    The route leaves the asphalt road and starts to climb up to Unionski podkop, which is an old 6 km long mining tunnel under the Veliki vrh mountain. I guess in Slovenian it means something like "High hill", but in my language it sounds like "Great vomit". I hope my stomach will handle this gracefully, I shouldn't have drunk that non-alc beer. At the last race, I perfected the delicate art of throwing up without even slowing down or staining myself (or anybody else), and I believe that skill needs no further polishing today.

    And without further ado we have entered the mine. The temperature is noticeably lower here. I've always wanted to run a race in the underground, and I'm enjoying it. We run in a line and I feel like overtaking a couple of slower people, but most of the tunnel is too narrow for that. In some parts it's also a bit too low and I run slightly bent forward as I don't want to struck my head on the ceiling.

    We've been running underground for quite a too long time now (OK, a couple of minutes, but time flows slowly in the underground) and I start to feel my bladder. I definitely shouldn't have drunk that non-alc beer. And the energy drink. Ten minutes later and still underground, with the exit nowhere to be seen, I start to look for some decent side tunnel where I could relieve myself but there is none. At least the Podkop is little wider here and I could overtake some people. I am at the front of the line and I speed up, as the urge is getting serious. Within minutes I am running all alone deep under the mountain. This is actually a quite mystical moment and I wish the tunnel was at the end of the race so I could enjoy solitude for the whole 6 km.

    Finally, the exit is here, lots of lights, many people screaming "bravo", and most importantly, some trees where I can finally relieve my bladder. Meanwhile the whole peloton overtook me.

    I try to catch on, but quite soon I realize I need to slow down, otherwise I would waste to much energy. I'm too old for this speed. We start to climb to Kordeževa Glava, the highest point of the entire race. The forest is dark and beautiful and I like it. There's no asphalt anywhere. The ascent is taking ages and I am not used to this, we do not have such high mountains in the Czech Republic. I enjoy the stars high above me until I realize those aren't stars, they're headlamps. Oh no, do we really have to climb that high? I've already lost track where I am and how long is it to the top. At least I haven't lost my breath. Many runners did and from time to time, I overtake someone who is trying to catch their breath.
    Finally I am at the first aid station at Dom na Peci. Not wanting to make a veliki vrh I eat just a little. Most runners don't eat anything and they overtake me. Once again I've worked hard to move a few spots to the front, and then in a minute I moved back where I have been before.

    All right, let's try again. The terrain slowly changes from forest to rock, and the slope gets even steeper. I've never run a race this high. There are no trees here, and I could enjoy the magnificent view of the Karawanks - if only the night was not pitch dark. What a pity there's no moon, in the moonlight this mountains must be amazing. The wind is getting stronger and I feel increasingly chilly. This may be the right time to put on the sleeves from the starter package. They are supposed to be cooling, but if I put them inside out, they should be warming, right? It's working and finally I am at the top of Kordeževa Glava (2,126 m). Even though I can only imagine the surrounding peaks, this place is absolutely breathtaking and I don't want to go down. When I die, I don't want to die in a bed, I want to die in a place like this, and please don't carry my remains down.
    I sacrifice one more minute to take a blurry selfie, but it's time to go, the others don't waste any time here. After a little bit of running across the alpine meadows, the route goes steeply down. It resembles the singletrack I ran at a race two weeks ago, and I can put that training to good use. I switch my headlamp to a higher intensity and start running downhill like a rabid prairie dog. The people get out of my way and I overtake quite a lot of them, until there's only one of them left. This guy's good, I will not try to shake him off. My thighs are already less then enthusiastic after this descent, and the race is only beginning.

At Kordeževa Glava (2,126 m)

    I chat with the guy, he says that there's and refreshment station ahead and then more hills. I explain to him that I only have a little experience with running in high mountains. In my country, to make a race harder, the race organizers often design the route so it goes off the trails and over many obstacles, such as rocks, fallen trees, mud and creeks.

    In contrast, the route here is perfectly runnable and within minutes we are at the second refreshment  station at Kumer. I spend only a couple of minutes here to get my bottles refilled and I am on the road again, I don't want the peloton to overtake me again. I quickly check my GPS, in about 10 kilometers there will be a place where the route climbs to some hill and then back again, I must not miss that. The forest road is flat and runnable, and I keep adding kilometers pretty quickly. Only my soon-to-be-replaced big toe is not fond of this and tries to have a blast by hurting like hell. STFU, big toe, you'll get your painkillers when we get to the finish line. They have one called Laško, and it can work miracles.

    All of a sudden, the route goes off the forest road and over a rocky path to some meadow with piles of brushwood, creeks and wet grass. And then a large pond of mud. The local runners seem to be having problems with this kind of terrain but not me. I told you guys, this is how the routes in the Czech Republic look like!

    Within a couple of minutes I overtake them all and for another thirty seconds and enjoy this achievement... and then a string on my gaiter breaks, goddammit! It only takes moments to tie it together but that's enough for everybody to get ahead of me again. Not to mention I got struck by electricity when trying to climb over an electric fence. F%$k my life. The forest road is muddy and much damaged by forest machinery and everyone seems to be struggling again. However, I have plenty of experience with running along the trails like this and I can take advantage of this.

    There's another refreshment station, this one was not listed on the web site but I am not going to complain, the volunteers have read my name and they all chant Bravo, Martin! How nice. The route climbs to another mountain, and to my surprise I still have plenty of energy, I don't need to stop to catch breath, and I climb to the ridge in no time. However, I struggle a bit on the trail along the ridge, and I let several runners overtake me as the clearly have more experience with running along footpaths like this, but I do everything I can to keep up with them. And here comes another steep descent, and this time it's on a gravel footpath. I have no idea how to run in this, and within two minutes, all the headlamps ahead of me disappear in the forest. I need to practice running in this kind of terrain.

    Finally, after much struggle and cursing, I am in the valley. The dawn is breaking. I take a look at the GPS... Oh shit. I have missed the top of Olševa, which we were supposed to climb and then return. Good thing I am all alone here, because I am cursing like sailor. I did not see the marking. And nobody let me know. I am devastated. Will they penalize or outright disqualify me? But at least some runners must have missed Olševa as well. Maybe they'll disqualify us all.

    I arrive at Bukovc refreshment station severely downhearted. My drop bag is here. Personally I would have appreciated it later in the race, this is only 43rd kilometer. I put on a dry t-shirt and have an energy drink, but that hardly cheers me up. I chat with some ladies that didn't go to Olševa either. Maybe the map on the web site is just outdated. I forbid myself obsessing about it any more and I set off to tackle the other half of the race.

    The route goes along a nice forest path, and finally there's daylight and I can enjoy the beauty of the nature. After some time the landscape changes to mountain terrain and the slope gets noticeably steeper. And I spot a chamois. Cool, I like chamoises. At the races in my country, all I encounter are wild boars, and those are definitely less cool.

    The terrain is rough and the climb is physically demanding. Two other runners overtake me, I attempt to initiate some conversation with both of them but unfortunately none of them speaks English. But I have a nice conversation with a runner from Denmark. Near the Raduha mountain I meet a couple of organizers and I ask them about Olševa. They say we weren't supposed to go to Olševa. But it is in the map! You guys almost gave me a heart attack. Anyway I climb to the top of Raduha (2,062 m). Again, what a beautiful place. I don't want to leave. But I have to.

Raduha (2,062 m)

    The Danish runner asks me to go first but I refuse, citing my inexperience with running on this surface. She splits off and runs so fast she could outrun that chamois. Within minutes, she gets completely off my sight. Clearly she has trained a lot. They must have great mountains in Denmark.

    On the contrary, my performance is substandard at best. I jump from rock to rock, careful not to slide and break my leg. The other runners don't seem to be concerned about this and tons of people overtake me during the descent. I definitely need some training for running on this surface. 

    Finally I make to Loga Lodge. A runner offers me a beer, which I refuse. "Don't worry," he says, "it's non-alcoholic." Non-alcoholic beer? Dude, I am Czech. In our country, there's alcoholic beer at every single refreshment station and some runners drink ten of them over the course of a 100km race. A masseuse is waving at me seductively with a bottle of massage lotion and invites me to a massage... I think. I don't understand Slovenian. Anyway by now my calves are covered with 3 cm thick layer of mud so I choose to leave to catch at least some of the people that overtook me at Raduha.

    But the route goes right through a herd of cows. Unsure of how would the cows react to a runner sprinting towards them, I slow to a walk and calmly talk to them. But they seem used to runners and cannot care less. Finally I am away from the meadow and I can run again. I feel some fatigue, but just a little and it's certainly not going to stop me. It's not even going to slow me down. I overtake one runner, then another.

    Here's another refreshment station. The aid stations here are average. I am not hungry, but there's the same food at every station. I would've appreciated more variety. I miss my low-carb cricket flour gingerbread. I refill my bottles and continue the chase. Only 46 km to the finish. I really love the route. A well balanced mix of various types of terrain. This segment is not very hilly, it alternates between beautiful forest and even more beautiful mountain meadows. I overtake a couple of runners and then catch the girls I talked to at Bukovc. They seem like experienced runners. All my attempts at splitting off fail and I can clearly feel that I am overexerting myself. The fatigue kicks in. But I don't want to slow down even though I am probably going to regret this later in the race.

    Near Smrekovec, the ladies (who are currently slightly ahead of me) scream. In front of us, there's a fallen log, at a height of about 170 cm, and below lies a motionless body, holding a cell phone. What the f$%k happened here? Is he okay? Fortunately he starts moving and gets on his feet. It turns out he was using his phone while running, did not look ahead and hit the log with his head and knocked himself out. Unbelievable. Luckily, he's not hurt. After making sure he's OK, we continue to Smrekovec. I'm starting to feel really tired. The next descent is technical, I'm struggling, the girls split off, even the guy who hit the log overtakes me. Apparently, no lesson has been learned, since he's talking on the phone again.

    Smrekovec lodge, another refreshment station and I'm so tired I have to sit down. The staff is nice and they offer me some pasta... without any sauce. Does anybody really want eat dry pasta? Fortunately they also have some vegan pizza, and it is delicious. I have to get the recipe and bake my own. Of course it will first be de-veganized by adding ground crickets.
    I'm crisis, my body's aching, the temperature is ever rising and apparently I got a blister. But there's one thing that's keeping my spirit up. It's the time. It's only 11 AM; I've been running for 13 hours and I only have the last 34 km to cover, and the most difficult passages are already behind me. If I don't burn out, I can definitely be at the finish in under 22 hours, possibly even faster! Let's go.

    But the next passage is the hardest. The route is quite easy here, no hills or anything, but I just have to alternate between running and hiking. Not much fuel left in my tank now. I need to find something to think about to keep my mind busy. Maybe when I get home I'll try to write a race report in English. That's a good idea. How should I start? How about "Come listen to my story, I'll tell you no lies..." Nah, that's a silly beginning. I should come up with something better.
    Somebody is yelling at me. I took a wrong turn but fortunately another runner - the one who offered me beer earlier - notifies me. Thanks again!
    My feet are on fire and the weather is boiling. Ahead of us lies the last big mountain, Uršlja gora, also known as Plešivec. I've climbed to Plešivec about fifty times in the past because we have about twenty mountains with that name in the Czech Republic. But they are about 500 m high, its Slovenian incarnation has almost 1700 m, and from here it looks quite menacing. Fortunately there's another refreshment station at the foot of the mountain. And they have pancakes! And only 19 km to the finish line.
    I am determined to nail it. The sun burns like furnace. I try to soak my new cap in water but unsuccessfully; I've accidentally bought a waterproof cap. It keeps the sweat inside and cannot be soaked. At this stage in the race, everybody seems to be in a crisis, even those who are only running the 50 km route. I learn a lot of Southern Slavic swearing while climbing to Plešivec, and offer some Western Slavic in return. Yet it seems I have recovered a bit and I arrive at the top slightly ahead of the runners I've been seeing for the last 20 km. Not wanting to waste the lead I only stop for a minute at the refreshment station at the top, and then leave. If I don't screw up, I can finish under 21 hours.

    But I should really train downhill running. It doesn't matter that I can get ahead of other runners during ascents, because they overtake me every single time when we're going down. And all these hills have taken toll on my thighs. I am joined by a guy who is running the 50 km race, we chat and the kilometers pass. And I even speed up because I'm upset. It turns out that some runners have a support van. I don't like that. Not because this is prohibited by the race rules - I don't care - but the van is following them along the forest roads. That's not very environment-friendly. There are hundreds of racers here; imagine hundreds of vans driving through the forest. The trail would become a freeway.  I know only one response to this: I will defeat them and their support even if it means I'll have to #rip my legs off my ass (© Kristiina Mäki). And I'll push my time under 20 hours.

    I make just a quick stop at the refreshment station at Mrdavs (don't even ask what does that word mean in Czech), and I completely ignore the next one. Only 5 km to go! To our right there's a sand dune. Just like at my last race. If only the race organizers here had balls to lead the route there, that would be fun! To my amusement, the route takes a right turn, right onto the sand dune. This cheers me up. No need to save energy any more, I climb as fast as I can, which is to be honest not very fast at all, but still somewhat faster then most of the runners around. A quick look a the cell phone display reveals that my time can be close to 19 hours. I am on the top of the last hill and I am experiencing runner's high.

The last climb

    I overtake tons of people, unfortunately most of them are from the shorter race so it does not matter much, but I also leave behind a couple of runners from my race, including those that I am determined to defeat. This is one of the rare 100 km races that I'm enjoying from start to finish.

    The last descent. My thighs are so sore that they might as well burst. Sort of like my bladder felt when we were in the mine. Only this time there's no way to pee out the pressure. Finally I am running the last mile at Črna and I feel like as if I'm running for the gold medal at UTMB, even though I am only running for fortieth spot (or so) at K24. The local people are shouting and applauding. I cross the finish line 19 hours and 11 minutes from the start.
    Finally I can sit down. The Danish lady comes to me with a can of beer and tells me that I should have a couple of them. Excuse me, madam, I am Czech, I know how to properly hydrate myself after a race. I check the race results, 36. place, not bad. Michal is 20 km behind, it'll take some time till he gets here.

Rehydrating at the finish line

    Three beers later I head to my room to the shower. Refreshed, I go get another beer. The party is culminating but I don't see any familiar faces. In fact, these people are clearly not runners; the locals came to have fun. The runners went to sleep I guess. I am disappointed. At least Michal arrives, with the time of 22:20. We have some beers and I go to sleep.

Michal after the race

    To sum it up, this was one of the best races I ever took part in. It was also one of the most difficult. But I gave one of my best performance. Usually at no later than 80 km I am tired and in pain and I start to hate the race, running in general, and the whole world. But here everything fell into its place and I enjoyed every single kilometer of it. I would recommend anyone to try this race and one day, I want to come back myself.