EXECUTIVE VERSION: I finished my first ultra! Although it took 19 hours 23
minutes to complete, I finished 57 out of 159 in my age group and 255 out of
1015 overall. I was pleasantly surprised after thinking that we were
running really slow. After heavy rains the morning of the race parts of the
course were extremely muddy/under water making even walking through the
slippery mud a real challenge. We had to cross 4 mountains during the last
half of the course, all over 2000-feet. This was a real challenge. At
times I would think that it would never end. A friend and I ran the course
together. The company and conversation was nice, especially during the
nighttime, which was my favorite part of the race. I'm glad that I didn't
abandon my friend when I wanted to. The Spanish Foreign Legion provided all
finishers completing the course within the 24-hour time limit with a t-shirt
with the run logo, sweatshirt w/ logo, hanging ceramic tile of "El Tajo" of
Ronda with 101K on it, and a nice certificate with your name, time, age
group finishing stats and overall finishing stats on it.

LONG VERSION: Our journey began when I made the 2-hour drive up to Ronda
from Rota, Spain, with my friend, Mike, checking in upon arrival at the
bullring, which is, by the way, Spain's oldest and biggest bullring, located
in the center of scenic downtown Ronda, where the Spanish Foreign Legion
based the race headquarters for the race. This would also be the finish
for the run. This bullring also houses the bullfighting museum. Once in
Ronda small yellow signs with black lettering "101" were posted along the
sides of the streets, which led us right to the race headquarters/bullring.
They made sure you didn't get lost. I would like to say that the entire
organization of this event was absolutely superb. I cannot overemphasize
how well the Spanish Foreign Legion did in organizing this 4th annual event.
Here, at the bullring, we picked up our race packages. From there we
proceeded to the Polideportivo, or sports complex, located about 10 minutes
outside of Ronda, where we were to spend a restless night sleeping on the
gym floor in sleeping bags, which we had been instructed to bring along for
this special occasion. We finally got to sleep at around midnight after
attending the free pasta dinner at the bullring at 2100 that evening. The
following morning we began our race day at 0600 making final preparations
such as pinning our numbers on and packing our "survival" equipment
(flashlights w/ spare batteries, Power Bars, GU, Advil, granola bars).
Although the Spanish Foreign Legion was serving breakfast at the bullring we
opted to go with the bananas and granola bars we had brought vice having to
drive over to the bullring. At 0900 we made the 5-minute walk over to the
football stadium where the race would start at 1100 and we would run/walk a
101-kilometer, circular, counterclockwise route through the seven towns of
Alcala Del Valle, Torrealhaquime, Setenil, Arriate, Benaojan, Montejaque and
Ronda in the Province of Malaga and the surrounding mountains
and countryside. The Spanish Foreign Legion provided lots of medical
assistance throughout the course, well marked trails and roads, and plenty
of aid stations to rest and take on necessary fluids and food. There were
also mountain bike racers who would start prior to us at 1045. We were
treated to a special pre-race air show performed by an outstanding pilot,
whose name I do not know, flying an old restored World War II plane. This
pilot was absolutely superb, conducting some of the most daring,
breathtaking aerial maneuvers I have ever witnessed directly above the
stadium as we awaited the start of the race. What a treat! The cyclists
were off at about 1050 after brief opening remarks by the Spanish Foreign
Legion's General. After the cyclists cleared the stadium we lined up on the
stadium track behind the tape to await what fate had in store for us. We
began the run shortly after 1100 as scheduled, with two police motorcycle
escorts out of the city. There were aid stations every 5 kilometers
providing water, sports drinks and fruit along with two aid stations
(located at 20 and 55km) also providing cold sandwiches and massages. You
could drop bags at 55 and 72km. We were treated to a hot
meal of chicken noodle soup, veal steaks, and cookies at 72 km, which
we welcomed at about 3 a.m. after completing what was probably the muddiest
portion of the race. At times it was a challenge just to stay on your feet
while walking through this wilderness of sticky goo. At one time I almost
lost my shoe to the mud God on the trail. Mike and I took turns coaching
and motivating each other during the most difficult times, which we both
experienced thankfully at different stages of the race. I strongly
considered going on ahead of Mike early on in the race as he wasn't as
prepared as I was for the race and I was worrying about my finishing time
which I had projected at 13-15 hours, but I decided to stick it out with him
since I felt partly responsible for him running the race. He had ran his
first marathon with me on 22 February this year too. After just missing the
qualifying time by tenths for the Olympics, he's preparing for the next
Olympics, but his specialty is the 200 and 400m run. (Mike's 24
years old and I'm 41.) I would have missed his company and conversation
during the night though and it WAS a lot more enjoyable running with someone
now that it's over. I especially enjoyed the night portion of the
race though. I felt a certain peacefulness, or tranquility, after
nightfall. The only light you saw were the glowing green chemical lights
hanging in the trees and bushes marking the route and the lights of the aid
stations along the way. Portions of the race took us down back-country
roads past farms with sleeping cows in the fields. We talked about how
lucky, and smart, the cows were to be able to lay down and sleep, while we,
the intelligent beings, were running through the night. The sound of the
generators, which you could hear long before you could see them, providing
power to the aid stations came to be a soothing sound as you neared the next
station. (It's amazing how far 5 km is after you've been running all day.)
It was both comforting and isolated being "outback" in the dark with nature.
Since it was so cloudy (it rained the morning of the race) there was no moon
providing illumination. You got tunnel vision from staring at the ground in
your flashlight's beam in front of you to avoid rocks, holes, small lakes
(yes, the mud holes were as big as Texas) and whatever else nature saw fit
for you. I believe that we even woke up the frogs when crossing streams
during the night. They would protest as if we had invaded their domain with
their loud croaks. The biggest morale killer of the race was one aid
station we arrived at with a sign proclaiming 92.4 km to the finish line (if
you're going the opposite direction we were at the time!) when we knew we
had about 15 miles to go. We would pass this aid station two times. What
we didn't know was that we were about to enter hell itself climbing up into
the mountains again and looping back down and around the other side of the
mountain out again to this aid station on the return trip. After making the
loop and transiting the aid station the second time with 92.4 km to go to
the finish we just offered a friendly buena suerte, or good luck, to the
runners we met going the other way up into the mountains to begin their
sojourn. We told each other what a blessing it was that we didn't know then
what we knew now! What do they say, ignorance is bliss? As we neared the
finish line (well, one doesn't near the finish line until you see it, as we
know now from this race) each kilometer grew longer and longer. Aid
stations seemed forever to get to. At the last aid station at 96.4km as we
began our final ascent up the famous gorge, or "El Tajo" of Ronda we sat
down for about 5 minutes to collect our thoughts while eating a banana and
drinking a cup of coffee con leche (coffee with milk). (Of special note:
Ronda is renouned for being built around a very deep (150m) Gorge "El Tajo"
of the Guadalevin River over which is built an imposing bridge "Puente
Nuevo" which once served as a prison. The views from the bridge are
magnificent.) Once we left the aid station Michael said he thought that he
must have actually feel asleep briefly sitting there because he didn't
remember what happened at that station. (Strangely, I never once felt
sleepy during the race. Anyway, we leaned into the steep climb and pushed
our way up the switchbacks, which didn't seem to provide much relief at this
point, although I'm sure they did. At one point we passed a gentleman
heaving his guts out along the trail and offered our best wishes for a safe
finish. At the top of the Tajo the Spanish Foreign Legion gentleman told us
we had just one more "hill" to climb and pointed us up one of the roads
saying 400m to the finish. Well, that 400 meters seemed like 5 miles to me.
Finally, another guard told us 50 meters, but I still didn't see the finish
line. When we did finally see the finish we were walking fast, so we took a
vote and decided to cross the finish line running. Although, I believe at
this point our run was barely more than a quick walk, if that. As we
crossed that finish line at 0623 on the morning of 17 May 1998, some 19
hours and 23 minutes after we had began, we felt like Olympic champions, and
we had a right to. For we had been on the closest thing that I can relate
to the WWII Bataan Death March, which my uncle was a part of. Even though
there were probably no more than 10 or 12 people there cheering us on as we
crossed the finish line there might as well had been a whole stadium full of
people cheering. The feeling was the same. The goosebumps running over
your body and the emotions flowing inside. We had finished a grueling and
most memorable event in our lives. One we will never forget. We crossed
the finish line side by side 19 hours and 23 minutes after we had began the
death march.

Of special note: We should have known it was going to be extremely tough, a
torture trail, from last year's statistics. There were 1121 runners entered
in the 1997 race with only 757 crossing the finish line. I do not have this
year's statistics yet on the number of finishers vs. entrants. I did see
many runners drop from exhaustion and injuries during the race. There were
four mountain climbs with the finish being the final climb up the famous
"Tajo" of Ronda. Also, the course was extremely muddy making it very
difficult. There were few flat portions, most of them being in the first
half of the run. The first half of the race is where you could make good
time. When I asked a Spanish Foreign Legion member why 101K and not 100K he
replied that the Spanish Foreign Legion has always been unique and to
demonstrate that you are always capable of doing more you run the extra
kilometer. I was also told that all new recruits of the Spanish Foreign
Legion are required to complete this course, or spend 40 days restriction to
their quarters. Warning: This race course is not for the weak-willed! You'
ve gotta have a lotta heart and determination to finish! And, you have to
run more with your head than your legs. I look forward to next year. I
learned a lot from this. If you've read this far thank you.