I recently participated in a seven-day, 155-mile (250 km) ultramarathon called the Atacama Crossing (organized by RacingThePlanet). The race took place in the Atacama Desert of Chile, the driest non-polar desert in the world, located between the Pacific Ocean and the Andes Mountains.
For me, the race did not go as planned. And during my struggles, I couldn’t help but make connections between this multi-stage ultramarathon and climbing Kilimanjaro. I made some dumb mistakes that I shouldn’t have. But I also was able to overcome hardships because of my experience.
In this article, I’ll discuss what a 155-mile ultramarathon taught me about climbing Kilimanjaro.
First let’s talk about the course.
Race Format
We traveled across a variety of desert terrain, including canyons, sand dunes and salt flats. The race started at an elevation of 10,500 feet (3,200 meters) and ended at 7,900 feet (2,400 meters). So, the entire event took place at a moderate elevation.
The race is self-supported, meaning you carry everything you need in your pack – food, clothing, medical kit, mandatory equipment. Pack weights typically start around 20 pounds, without water. The organizers provide water and shelter, but nothing else.
The race consisted of six stages that occurred over seven days.
- Stage 1 – 22.1 miles
- Stage 2 – 23.4 miles
- Stage 3 – 25.6 miles
- Stage 4 – 27.8 miles
- Stage 5 – 45.0 miles (two days)
- Stage 6 – 11.7 miles
For the first four days, the distances varied between about 22 and 28 miles. Stage 5, known as the long stage, was 45 miles long and could be completed over two days if needed. The last stage was a shorter, approximately 12 mile run, to the finish line. Altogether, the total distance covered was 155.6 miles (250.4 km).
To compare it with Kilimanjaro, I believe the effort required to complete the race is equivalent to summiting Kilimanjaro and returning to high camp four days in a row—followed by a double summit day, a rest day, and then descent. What makes it hard are the consecutive stages that wear you down, followed by the brutal long day.
I was not a complete stranger to this race format.
I had done one of them before, albeit a long time ago. In 2008, I completed the Sahara Race in Egypt, organized by the same outfit, Racing the Planet. At the time, I was not a runner, but a hiker. And I participated with the mindset that I would fast hike most of the course and run only if I felt like it. It was tough, but I finished in good shape and in good spirits.
I never thought about doing another multi-stage ultramarathon until last year, when I ran my very first marathon in Honolulu. In my mind, I was now a runner and wondered how I’d fare in another desert race, 17 years later, with my newfound running capability. And that was the motivation behind entering the Atacama Crossing.
Race Recap
I began Stage 1 like a man possessed, running almost entirely through the first three checkpoints and then walking only the last incline section. I was in such a hurry that I didn’t consume much water during the day. At the end of this 22.1 mile stage, I knew I’d pushed too hard as I was more tired than I wanted to be. I decided that I’d ease up the next day. Turns out, I didn’t have a choice. That evening, I began to feel off. I had a fever, a headache, nausea, and diarrhea. Classic signs of heat exhaustion.
I woke up the next day feeling like crap. I had no appetite and was only able to eat a few bites of granola for breakfast. In my condition, I knew I couldn’t run. So I didn’t even try. I walked the entirety of Stage 2, 23.4 miles, consuming only a bag of Skittles because it’s the only thing I had that didn’t sound disgusting. At night, I was still nauseous, making it difficult to eat or drink. I was able to eat only half my dinner (~300 calories).
Stage 3, another 25.6 miles, was a little bit better. But I still had nausea. I was now falling way behind on calories and hydration. I was concerned that if things continued in this direction, I’d run out of energy and might not be able finish the race.
Fortunately, for Stage 4, I woke up feeling more like myself. My appetite had come back and I was able to eat and drink more. My symptoms of heat exhaustion were mostly gone. At this point, I knew I had gotten over the hump and would be OK for the rest of the race. I completed the 27.8 miles feeling confident.
Stage 5 was the long day – 45.0 miles. I felt relatively good until midday when my calorie deficit from the previous three days caught up to me. Between miles 27-32, I was pretty tired, with 13 miles left. At the overnight checkpoint, I had the option to sleep or try to rally and finish. I pulled out all the stops. I ate dinner, swallowed salt pills, drank electrolytes, took a caffeine gel, and sat down for 20 minutes. That was enough for me to close it out.
Stage 6 was the final 11.7 run, which I completed with no problems.
Here’s a summary of the mileage, my time on the course and my ranking for the day. The daily ranking is an accurate indicator of how I felt for each stage:
- Stage 1: 22.1 miles, 5:13:10 (25th) – went out too fast
- Stage 2: 23.4 miles, 7:53:25 (83rd) – feeling sick with heat exhaustion
- Stage 3: 25.6 miles, 8:45:17 (91st) – going slow, not eating or drinking much
- Stage 4: 27.8 miles, 8:57:41 (60th) – recovering and feeling better
- Stage 5: 45.0 miles, 15:30:32 (76th) – bonked near the end, rested and rallied
- Stage 6: 11.7 miles, 2:25:38 (53rd) – short run to finish
- Overall: 155.6 miles, 48:45:43 (67th out of 146)
Overall, I finished 67th out of 146 competitors.
Seventeen dropped out.
10 Lessons Learned at the Atacama Crossing
As I tackled the mileage, day in and day out, I couldn’t help but see many parallels between competing in this multi-stage ultramarathon and climbing Mount Kilimanjaro. Ironically, the things that we, as a Kilimanjaro operator, try to teach people about how to approach the mountain are the very same things that would have helped me for the race had I only taken the advice.
Here’s what I found.
1) Don’t Get Overconfident
Coming into the race, I was very sure that I would do well. I had many reasons believe this. I had done a similar race 17 years ago, so I felt that I knew what to expect. And last time, I competed, not as a runner, but a fast hiker, and placed 44th out of 160 participants. Since then, I’d added distance running to my routine. So I was certain that I could be faster.
In addition, I live at over 6,000 feet (1,829 meters) in elevation, so I was at least partially acclimatized to the altitude of the Atacama Desert. I also was acclimatized to the heat, or so I thought, because I spend a lot of time hiking in hot weather, doing hot yoga, hot HIIT (high intensity interval training), and sitting in the sauna. And finally, I’m very familiar with moving on desert terrain, due to living part time in the desert.
All of these factors told me that I’d be well conditioned for the race. So I went out with the attitude that I didn’t have to make any adjustments for the heat. And how wrong I was.
In hindsight, I should have started slower. The smarter approach would have been to ease in and finish the first stage feeling like I had more to give. From there I could have recalibrated and put more or less energy into the next stage depending on how I felt and recovered. I was punished my overconfidence.
On Kilimanjaro, overconfidence looks different, but the outcome is the same.
Some people think because it’s a nontechnical peak, it’s going to be easy. Other may believe there’s no way they’ll get altitude sickness. Some might see the high success rates and feel like they have it in the bag. It could be that they have a lot of experience in the mountains. Or they live at high elevation. Or perhaps they’re super fit and have incredible endurance.
Whatever the source of their confidence, they may end up picking short routes, expending energy unecessarily, being careless with their foot placement, or failing to abide by acclimatization guidelines. There are many ways to fail on Kilimanjaro. So don’t take the challenge of the mountain lightly. As the old adage in boxing goes, “If you don’t take an opponent seriously, they become a serious opponent.”
2) Listen to the Experts
As I was going through the race organizer’s gear list, I had my doubts about some of the mandatory items. One thing, in particular, that I criticized was their requirement for electrolytes.
Specifically, we needed to have:
- enough powder to make a minimum of 30 liters of drink, OR
- 45 salt tablets, OR
- combination of both
My electrolyte of choice is Gatorade Endurance. Each 35 gram packet mixes into 24 ounces of water. So based on the 30 liter requirement, I should have had 40 packets. I brought 24, about half of the minimum. And no salt tablets. My reasoning was that guidelines were likely far too conservative, and I’d be done with each stage within 6 hours. So I planned my hydration for shorter time spans.
When I lost my appetite, I found it very hard to drink liquids at all, not to mention drinking the same flavor over and over again. I regretted that I didn’t bring more electrolytes, take a variety of brands and flavors, and also have salt tablets. Because I thought I knew better than the experts, I made my time on the course more difficult.
For climbing Kilimanjaro, we are the experts. Our website and videos tell you everything you need to know for a safe and successful trip. Whether it’s our advice on what route to take, how to acclimatize, or what gear to pack, you should consider what we say to be good, accurate information that has been tested and validated over many years of leading climbs.
On the mountain, your Ultimate Kilimajaro guides have helped thousands of people reach the top. So take our advice to heart. It comes from a strong foundation of experience, success, and hard-earned lessons.
3) Accept That Things Will Go Awry
There are so many variables invovled in multi-day ultramarathons. So many, that you should expect that not everything will go as planned. It’s not if things go south, it’s what and when. It could be nausea, cramps, blisters, GI issues, sunburn, injuries and so on. It’s all part of the game. What matters is how you respond and push forward.
I entered the race with a goal to finish at a certain rank. But after the first stage, that was no longer realistic. So my new goal was just to finish. And to do that, I needed to take it easy and overcome heat exhaustion. I made strategic decisions about my pace, what to eat and drink, when to run, and when to take breaks. I skipped socializing for the most part, rested in my tent, and went to bed as soon as I could. If I stayed stuck on the original plan, I would have almost certainly made things worse.
Instead, I reset my expectations, adapted to the current situation and finished.
And just like no one has a perfect race. No one has a perfect climb. If you come to Kilimanjaro thinking that you’re going to stroll up, feel great, sleep well, and execute your game plan to a T, you’re likely going to be disappointed and flustered when setbacks occur. Whereas if you expect to encounter obstacles, you’ll be in a much better headspace if and when that happens.
So be flexible and be ready to adapt to changing conditions.
4) Focus on Recovery
When you hear the word race, you think speed. But in a multi-stage event, the priority is recovery. You’re not out on the course just today – you’re out tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that. So you have to go into each stage with an awareness that you have to be able to bounce back from whatever level of effort you put in. I understood this and still made the mistake of going out too fast.
In my mind, I wanted to finish stage one with about a third or a quarter of fuel left in the tank. I thought that by morning, I would be refilled from eating, drinking and sleeping and have a full tank, or close to it, at my disposal.
Once I got heat exhaustion, my focus shifted from performance recovery to illness recovery. I had to reduce my pace drastically. I gave up time on the trail to preserve energy. I tried to eat and drink at regular intervals. I rested at checkpoints. Fortunately, I was able to turn it around after a couple of days.
Climbing Kilimanjaro isn’t a speed competition, but the same principle applies. Recovery is what makes the next day possible. If you don’t sleep well, don’t eat, or hike too aggressively early in the trip, you could be setting yourself up for failure later on.
They say that a good mountaineer is a lazy mountaineer. That means they know how to manage their energy. They move efficiently. They sit when they can. They pace themselves. They rest before they’re tired. They minimize unnecessary steps, avoid overexertion, and use the least amount of effort to get the job done.
So if you’re feeling spent, let a guide carry your pack. Skip the acclimatization hike if you’re beat. Go straight to bed after dinner. Do what you need to do to recover for the next day’s hike.
And let’s not forget that acclimatization is also a form of recovery, specifically from oxygen deprivation. Focusing on recovery means not only monitoring your energy expenditure throughout the day, but also creating optimal conditions for the body to repair and replenish and adapt to the altitude.
5) Lighten Your Pack
Every ounce requires more work to move. The heavier your pack, the more strain you place on your body. Over time, that cumulative effort adds up – especially when you’re covering long distances on foot.
The average pack weight at the Atacama Crossing is 22 lbs (10 kg). Mine was measured at 22.7 lbs (10.3 kg) without water. The experienced runners had packs as light as 13 lbs (6 kg), nearly 9 lbs less than mine.
Note I didn’t bring an extra items that were outside gear list. But I wasn’t especially selective either. I brought a bulky synthetic down coat and an old waterproof jacket – mainly because I didn’t mind sewing patches on them or beating them up. They were functional, but not efficient.
Now that I’m planning more races, I’ve already found new gear that would cut my pack weight by 3 pounds. That may not sound like much, but it would make a big difference. What bothered me the most during the race – even more than my nausea – were my sore traps from carrying too much weight.
The same concept applies to climbing Kilimanjaro. While porters carry your main duffel, you still carry a daypack yourself. And that daypack often gets overloaded with water, snacks, layers, camera gear, and unnecessary extras. Be diligent about what gear you bring on the mountain and what you put inside your day pack, especially on summit day. Many climbers make the mistake of hauling too much and that weight takes it toll and increases fatigue.
6) Take Care of Your Feet
In a seven-day ultramarathon, the health of your feet directly affects your performance. Therefore, you should treat them with respect.
I had a morning ritual that started with brushing all the dust and sand off my feet. Next, I taped any hot spots or known problematic areas, such as my pinky toes. Then I rubbed the entire foot with anti-chafe ointment, before putting on toe sock compression liners followed by running socks. My routine was not unusual as most competitors had a similar practice, all with the intention of avoiding blisters. But even with the greatest care, blisters still occur. So popping and draining blisters at the end of a stage was another step in the overall foot care process.
Kilimanjaro may not involve as much mileage, but long hours on your feet on variable terrain can lead to the same wear and tear. So you have to mindful of your feet. Make sure your boots or hiking shoes are broken in, and try out your shoe and sock system before committing to them on the mountain. Through training, learn what works for you so you can prevent issues before they start or mitigate any problems that arise.
7) Train Seriously
It should be pretty obvious that a multi-stage ultramarathon requires some heavy training.
Cardiovascular fitness, leg durability, heat acclimatization, and altitude acclimatization were all factors in the race. A strong aerobic base enables long hours of hiking and running. Durable legs absorb repeated impact without injury. Heat adaptions allow you to operate in temperatures over 100°F (38°C). And altitude acclimatization reduces the burden of low oxygen on body.
I addressed each of these components in the months and weeks leading up to the race. While there is always room for improvement, I believe my training and fitness level were sufficient. I didn’t experience much muscle soreness or pain, which told me that I was adequately prepared. However, my main misstep was overestimating my heat tolerance and not making adjustments in time.
On Kilimanjaro, even though the pace is slower, the demands are very real. Consecutive days of hiking and camping are draining. Adding poor cardiovascular fitness and weak muscles will make the climb harder than it needs to be. So give yourself every advantage before you step onto the mountain and take training seriously.
8) Ask for Help
When I strolled into camp on day 2, I wasn’t in good shape. I told my tentmates I was feeling sick. I also gave the medical team a heads up that I wasn’t eating or drinking enough.
This honest communication possibly saved me from withdrawing from the race. Once my tentmates knew my circumstances, they were so kind and went out of their way to help me recover. They brought me water for drinking and cooking my meals, allowing me to conserve energy at camp. They also offered me a variety of electrolytes, salt tablets, energy gels, and snacks. Suddenly I had many more options for getting the calories, caffeine, carbs and electrolytes I needed. And the medical team gave me an anti-nausea pill that helped me get my dinner down on day 3.
None of this would have happened had I stayed quiet and kept to myself.
On Kilimanjaro, open communication isn’t optional. If you feel off, say something. If you’re feeling symptoms of AMS, tell your guide. There’s nothing to be gained for being stoic.
We have had clients who failed to summit, only to learn from others that they were hiding their symptoms because they feared the guides might turn them around if they knew. This is idiotic. If they had been more forthcoming and timely about their condition, it’s possible something could have been done to prevent them from getting worse. Your team consists of people who can help you, but only if they know what’s going on.
9) Fight the Temptation to Quit
There were moments on in the race where I thought about quitting. That’s not a surprise and I fully expected it would happen at some point. When situations are uncomfortable, my brain comes up with very convincing arguments of why I shouldn’t continue.
I had plenty of excuses to chose from:
- There’s no real meaning or purpose to this race.
- I’ve done this before, so there’s no need to do it again.
- This race doesn’t define me.
- I don’t have anything to prove.
- I’m ill, so it would be irresponsible to continue.
- This is no longer fun.
- No one would look down on me for quitting.
- I’ll can always come back next year.
- I’m doing other challenging things later this year anyway.
These statements are all very rational and I could have easily justified a decision to quit. But, I also knew that my brain created these thoughts to escape pain and suffering. So I never took them seriously. The truth is that finishing the race was meaningful to me and that alone was reason enough to keep going.
On Kilimanjaro, you might have a bad day. You might get a headache or nausea or have stomach issues and start questioning whether it’s worth continuing. That’s when the mental game starts. And often it’s mental toughness, not physical ability, that separates those who summit from those who turn back.
Being tired or cold or sleepy, or suffering from knee, ankle and foot pain definitely can make your climb harder. But these issues can be safely overcome. Don’t take the bait. Resist the urge to throw in the towel when you come up against resistance.
Now I want to be very clear. Altitude sickness is very real and potentially fatal. There are times when you absolutely must abandon the summit attempt. You can’t and shouldn’t try to tough your way through AMS.
The decision to turn around is never easy. Don’t act in haste. Take a break, sit down, maybe eat and drink, talk to your guide, and slowly think it through. Then you can be sure that you’re making the right call.
10) Be Kind to Yourself
In my race, I didn’t get the finish I wanted. Despite being fitter, more experienced and prepared than I was in 2008, I did worse. It could have reacted with anger, sadness, maybe even embarrassment. But I’m none of those. I got on the starting line every day and kept going. To me, that’s a win.
Some people who attempt Kilimanjaro won’t reach the summit. They beat themselves up over it. But the reality is sometimes you prevail, sometimes you don’t. Sometimes you crush your goal, and sometimes your goal crushes you. If you succeed in everything you do every time you do it, then frankly, you’re not challenging yourself.
We grow through suffering. Through hardships. And through failure. So know that no matter what happens, you’ll get something positive out of your experience. Be proud you tried. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Instead, be kind and forgive yourself, if you have to. Then move on.
There are always more races and more mountains.
You don’t need to be perfect.
You just need to try.
That’s enough.
Are you interested in competing in the Atacama Crossing?
Visit RacingThePlanet for more information on their events. https://www.racingtheplanet.com/
