Fuego Y Agua 50K – Jungle Madness

Josue Stephens is not normal. He imagines and designs courses to chew runners up and spit them out, to yank them out of their comfort zone and into dangerous, difficult, uncertain predicaments that will leave them huffing and panting, doubting themselves, looking at each other, bug-eyed, in total disbelief. 30 minutes in.

Where any other race director would fence a rough area out with caution tape, Josue flags it with trail markers, making sure you go through every quick mud pit, thorny bush and steep cliff he can find. Then, he'll run it himself and change it, because he found a new way to make it more challenging. He admittedly aims for high drop rates and would consider his race an absolute failure if everybody finished. His slogans leave little to guess about his philosophy; «Adapt or Die» and «Challenge your Body, Discover your Soul».

Welcome to adventure running. This is ultra, without the training wheels.

The truth is, Josue Stephens is on to something. As one of the very first survival run conceptors, he developed a strong reputation of creating challenges at the very edge of the strongest contestants' mental and physical capabilities. But this has also spilled over his ultra races, and I think he has created a new breed of long distance events that include much more than running a course.

The terrains he makes you travel are not, by definition, ultra material. At Hunter – Gatherer, earlier this year, about 65% of the way was trailless, absolute bushwhack. This time around, Ometepe redefined both my definitions of steep and runnable.

Concepciòn, the fire part
of Fuego Y Agua

The race starts at water level, on the beach of Lake Nicaragua. Less than 3 little miles to warm up, and you're already at the skirt of the 4,575-foot Maderas volcano, an imposing mountain covered in rain forest. My starting strategy was hard to establish; as much as I usually love to begin my races at the back of the pack, I knew that I wouldn't have a lot of room to move forward in the column of runners. That meant if I was around people too slow for me, my ascent would be long and miserable. Of course, that also meant if I went too far ahead, I'd be slowing down others behind me, and that would stress me out and exert me, because I would try to keep a rhythm unsustainable for my abilities.

I picked a spot close to the end of the pack, but not completely. I drew a mental line between the ones I thought would start out running and those who would walk. We took off and, although I was focusing on taking it very easy, I started to slowly move up the line. When the first uphills came about, I decided to keep running, although slowly, and passed more people who'd preferred to walk.

The trail head to Maderas came quickly, and I didn't stop at the aid station. This put me ahead of the pack a little more, and I was delighted to see that the column I was in on the single track moved exactly at my speed. This took a huge weight off my shoulders, so I spent the early ascent enjoying the company of my fellow runners and glancing at the magnificent jungle trees waking up in the early daylight.

Less than a third of the way up, the trail starts to change from steep to steeper, and you know it won't get any easier any time soon. So the best strategy is to smile and embrace, and I took great joy in my climb. I felt great and I was excited with what laid ahead.

The cloud forest on Maderas

When the treeline starts to switch to a cloud forest, a permanent mist starts surrounding you and everything becomes wet and cooler. The immediate effect is visible on the trail, which changes from rocky, beaten earth to a muddy, slippery path meandering through enormous tree roots sticking out of the ground. This is where you stop using only your legs to propel you forward. The trail is so steep that you need to use your hands to grab on roots and tree trunks and yank yourself up, effectively transforming the run into a full-body workout.

The further up you go, the wetter things become, until you are literally ankle-deep in wet, sloppy mud and you start wondering if this is an ultra run or a figure skating event. My morale was way up, as I laughed my way through the insanely dirty, twisty mud river of a path unfolding before me. Reactions from the other runners around me varied widely, from absolute bafflement to exhilaration. This, definitely, was not your everyday ultra.

When the climb finally leveled a little bit, the trail quickly disappeared under massive fallen trees, whose roots and branches covered everything and forced us to weave our way through, carefully placing our feet on the ultra-slippery wet wood, twisting, rolling over and grabbing anything me could to not tumble down crashing. My heartbeat pounded from excitement more than effort, and I thought this was by far the craziest trail I'd ever been on.

Dirt in your... shoes

That was before hitting the crater on top, and its aid station. The brave volunteers there had to hike the volcano at night to be there before us, carrying heavy backpacks of food and supplies only to get there and stand in the cold, rainy, windy valley for hours on end. My friend Peter was up there, and I thoroughly hugged him and thanked him before taking off.

Thinking I would run down from that point, it only surprised me more to get to a rock face, a mere couple hundred feet away from the aid station. I stood there for a second, facing the pure, vertical, mud-covered wall and wondering where in the race briefing I had missed the part about the importance of being a rock climber. Doubtful I would even make it to the first of several ledges, I started grabbing and pulling and pushing. To my great astonishment and delight, I was able to climb at a decent speed and get a grip on very little steps (thank you, Saucony Kinvara Trail!). With a grin now larger than my face, I put my heart into it and heaved and ho'ed until I could stand vertically on my two feet again.

Wheeeeee!

Now several hundred feet above the crater, I went on to the next challenge, called the Jungle Gym. It's actually quite impossible to describe it accurately, and chances are you simply wouldn't believe me. But let's try anyway.

Take the steepest downhill single track you can imagine. Drench it in permanent rain and mist, until it becomes no less than a 2- to 18-inch deep river of slick volcanic mud. Now slam the trees down so either their branches, their roots or a combination of both block the trail completely, forcing you to climb up and through as you descend pitches sometimes higher than yourself. This stuff, I yelled to the runner behind me, makes Indiana Jones look like a prissy wimp. It is raw, it is dirty, it is hard, and it is the absolute best trail segment I have ever been on in my entire running life. Pure adventure.

And so I monkeyed on for several hours, finally coming down Maderas ecstatic, filthy and absolutely elated. I had successfully ran up a volcano, bushwhacked through the jungle, rock climbed a muddy cliff wall, sloshed through knee-deep mud pits and snaked through a forest of slick branches and roots. I felt like Tarzan. On steroids.

The Jungle Gym, nothing short of epic

I emerged out of the trail and onto a road, made a quick stop at the aid station and went on my way. I expected to follow the rock-covered dirt road for a while, then swerve off some trails and be back again, maybe skirting the fresh pebble beach by the lake. I was probably already delirious and forgot that this is a Josue Stephens race, where every segment presents a challenge. I called this one the slow-roast.

As the miles were piling almost as much as the mid-day degrees, I eventually realized there would be no fun segment off that road and not much shade to shelter me from the blistering tropical heat. Runners around me slowly turned into zombies, and I knew I didn't look too good myself. I got kinda bitchy, too, which is out of character. But I couldn't help it. After the high on the volcano, that was an unexpected, unwanted low point and I felt like I wasn't about to come out of it.

Luckily, I got to the next aid station just in time to stumble upon my friend Margaret, who didn't look in any better mood than I did. So we joked about it, I pulled her by the sleeve and, nodding back at the road, suggested we «get the fuck outta here».

On the home stretch

Margarita, as I affectionately called her that day, kept my mind together. My poor friend had to endure much more whining and moaning than I care to admit, and I'm not proud to have lost my positive attitude somewhere along that dusty, rocky road. But there was no avoiding it; although I understood this, too, was a challenge, I was hating it and would've gladly turned my heels around and done the volcano a second time instead.

With half-fried brains and not much kick in our step, Margaret and I covered what felt like a mammoth distance, a little over 30k of unadulterated misery. But eventually, like all things, if you keep at it, you'll see the end. After hours of great conversation, all-time lows and great laughs, too, Margarita nudged me and nodded her head to a chalk arrow on the road, pointing back down to the beach. It gave me wings.

We kicked up the pace and started running, picking up our friend Ian on the way and trying to coax Zoli and a nice Brit girl I'd ran with earlier to join us for the last bout. As the finish gate was approaching, I reflected on a day filled with a mix of absolute elation and total misery, and how that run had made me go through so much. And helped me get a little better. A little bit like life. A little bit like challenging myself, to see what comes out on the other side. That's what Josue's on to. Adventure running.

He throws in the crazy running.

You live a real adventure.

Josue Stephens n'est pas un organisateur de course ordinaire. Il réfute les limites habituelles de sécurité et de confort et vous précipite dans une vraie aventure, avec ses défis, ses dangers et ses remises en question. Vous en ressortez invariablement épuisé, ébahi... et transformé.

Hunter Gatherer Ultramarathons and Survival Runs

Race director Josue Stephens

The world of distance running has been brimming with new events rivaling in creativity and magnificent settings. From jungles to forests to deserts, ultra runners now have a wide choice of quality races to choose from and experience. Our friends at Fuego Y Agua Events have been contributing a lot of these beautiful, unique events with races such as the Fuego Y Agua Ultra, on the slopes of Nicaragua’s volcanoes and, of course, Ultra Marathon Caballo Blanco in the Copper Canyons of Mexico.

Fuego Y Agua director Josue Stephens has also been working on a new breed of events, races for runners who want to push themselves beyond the long distances and test their bodies to a new extreme; he’s been hard at work creating “survival” events. He took a couple moments to explain his ideas and talk about his latest creation, the Hunter Gatherer Survival Run to be held next October 5 in Texas.


Q. Josue, what the hell is wrong with you?

• Well Flint, not sure what to say there, guess I got the ultra bug, adventure race bug and obstacle racing bug all at the same time!
  
  
• I grew up in a fairly alternative lifestyle as a gypsy missionary kid. We traveled all over Central America, living in tents, shacks, cars, converted bread trucks, in the jungle with tribes, you name it!
  
  
• My dad always encouraged us to be adventurous and I read a lot about the Native Americans, outdoor survival skills etc.. We also lived some years in the Chihuahua Copper Canyons amongst the Tarahumara, many of them were even living in caves back then.
  
  
• All in all, my childhood and current racing/training inspired me to create Survival Runs.
  

Q. Describe your typical survival race contender? Are they ultra runners looking for an additional challenge? Cross-fitters getting into distance running? Mad scruffy paleo types?

• The definition of a “Survival Runner” is evolving. Right now it is kind of a mix of obstacle racers who want more than short gimmicky mud runs, ultra runners who want more than just running, and extreme adventure or endurance racers who want to take on the next challenge.
  

Q. What will Hunter Gatherer feature in terms of challenges?

• The basis (theme) of this race is the Hunter Gatherer way of life. So our challenges will strip the athlete down to the nitty gritty basics and put them in survival situations through the entire course.
  
  
• While we cannot reveal all of the obstacles/challenges on the course, the runners begin with no shoes and are required to make their own sandals to run the course. Runners cannot carry a pack and are required to make their own carrying implement. They will also be filtering their own water and carrying their own food.
  
  
• In addition to 50km or 100km runs and other brutal physical challenges, some of the survival challenges will revolve around making fire with a bowdrill, making and shooting a bow and arrow, harvesting and identifying native plants and more…
  

Q. You pioneered the scene of “survival” running with the Fuego Y Agua Survival Challenge last year, which I understand had all of 4 contenders finishing. Will Hunter Gatherer be as brutal?

• Survival Run Nicaragua 2013 had 40 starters and only 2 finishers, it was absolutely brutal with a very agressive time cutoff of 20 hours for 70km.
  
  
• Survival Run Hunter Gatherer cutoffs are a bit more lenient with 18 hours for the 50k and 34 hours for the 100k. However, because of the nature of the challenges, we don’t expect too many more finishers.
  

An amazing athlete:
Johnson Cruz

Q. Tell me more about Nicaraguan champion Johnson Cruz. Will he attend the race?

• Johnson Cruz is from Isla de Ometepe, Nicaragua, where the Fuego y Agua Ultras & Survival Run take place. In 2009 he won the Fuego y Agua 50k with no race experience at all. He went on to win the 2012 50k, then the 2013 Survival Run. He is now in the US for 6 months training and racing ultras and obstacle course races.
  
  
• Johnson’s main job at home is working on his father’s plantain farm. On an average training day at home, he wakes up for a 10+ mile run, works all day harvesting plantains, goes for a noon swim, works some more, then goes on an evening run, sometimes topping it off with a track workout or bike ride.
  
  
• Johnson is headed for the Vermont Spartan Race Championships this September, then plans on racing Hunter Gatherer before heading home in Mid-October.
  

Q. What are ordinary runners like me to do at an event like Hunter Gatherer? Will we be persistence hunted, then eaten?

• The point of offering the “run-only” 50km and 100km distances is for the Survival Runners to have something to hunt. Just kidding :)
  
  
• However, the “run-only” ultras will not be easy, they are on the same tough terrain as the Survival Runs, will only have two drop bag locations and also require the runner to bring their own water filter.
  

I'm officially scared.





Hunter Gatherer is an extreme survival obstacle course to be held October 5 in Camp Eagle, Rocksprings, Texas. It will feature a 50K and a 100K course designed for the toughest, wildest and strongest of runners looking for an extreme challenge. And I will be there to witness the madness, and, who knows, maybe take part?


More Information can be found at Fuego Y Agua, LLC.

Race Report - Ultra Marathon Caballo Blanco 2013

I believe in shamanism.

I believe our world is not only the sum of its physical parts; that there exists a spirit world in and around us. We are not solely amazing flesh machines, we are also animated by a spirit, an unseen force and a presence that defines not only ourselves but everything else in the universe.

I spent the last couple years discovering my body. But what started out as a pretty straightforward plan to improve my health and my physical fitness has transformed into an amazing journey of discovering the marvels of my capabilities and the ones of others. Helped and inspired by fellow adventurers from all shapes and types, I’ve experienced moments of indescribable grace at the very edge of complete exhaustion, mere instants from rebirthing with a renewed will and an energy that can only be explained by some unseen source, by something more than what the sum of my body cells can achieve. I embarked on the journey of mind over matter; I entered the spiritual realm of endurance running.

While I was exploring this new path, I also started experiencing the world in a different way. I started connecting with others in a manner that is as hard to understand as it is to describe. Moments of grace at the brink of unbearable fatigue and pain create an invisible, unbreakable bond between those who share them, something akin to instantly becoming soul brothers and sisters. I have the privilege of sharing such bonds with numerous extraordinary people, and they have made me richer than I could ever have imagined.

Last year, one of these bonds was broken. It was a powerful one, too, and its severance hurt me in ways I cannot put into words. I had just spent a little over a month with Micah, I was not even completely back, mentally, from the Canyons when I learned he was gone. It broke my soul.

In the following days, I went to see my Medicine Woman. At least that’s what I call her. The papers on her wall say “osteopath”, “chiropractor” and many other things, but I know who she is. As I entered her little office and started my treatment, she gave me the strangest of looks.

“Parts of your soul are missing.”

I broke down. Unable to speak, I tried to mumble an explanation of what had happened, but she stopped me. She didn’t need it. She treated my body, that day, but she also started treating my spirit. She explained, and demonstrated, that these connections I described not only exist, but last forever. She comforted me in showing complete understanding of what I was going through, and she guided me on a path to realizing that the only thing that matters in life is connection.

This connection, this strange bond that I first observed in my ultra running experiences, is what makes us true humans. And it has become for me an objective, a guide for living the rest of my life.

I traveled down to the Canyons in February, just like I did last year. Only this time, I had to deal with the fact that I would not stumble on my friend, catch up to what our lives had been since we were last together and go for a beautiful long run in the Barrancas.

I am grateful for the long days spent all alone, in silence, between running, sleeping, cooking and reflecting. I was lucky enough to have all the time needed to do these things over and over again until, slowly, they started to make sense once more. Until I could realize that I still had purpose here, that I was still connected, that the pain I had been feeling for a year now was gradually making way for some measure of peace, gratitude and a yearning to keep going forward.

I was not forgetting. I was processing.

When the tribe of Running People started gathering, I was elated to see familiar faces and new ones, but most of all to feel available and eager for new connections; to not be shut, wounded and afraid. I was free, present and open.

Days of running free, laughing, cooking, sharing and connecting led me to race day, between bouts of frantic work and magical moments only the Canyons can bring. And on that unique morning, before first light, I stood there once again, surrounded with love, friendship and community.

I didn’t hit the road alone. I carried with me two very special connections, two unexplainable bonds to share the adventure with. Two souls also in search of meaning. I had the strength, resolve and determination of a Tiger and the reach, depth and expanse of a Tree.

 The magic of the day unfolded and rewarded me with joy, passion and amazing feats of will. My joy was sharing about 6 miles of running with Jovian, a young Raramuri from the Los Alisos region, and seeing my friends Augusto, Donald and Olaf running free in the Canyons. My passion was witnessing Michael, Stephanie and Zac enter the world of ultra running with such elation. The amazing feats were those of exhausted runners keeping on, among which my friend Scott, but mostly Tom who literally broke through shackles of despair and defeat to rise up again and triumph over everything, including himself. What an incredible day to be alive.

Being reunited in the spirit of the Mas Locos, under the lead of Maria and Josue and the watchful eye of my friend the White Horse provided much needed energy, inspiration and hope. But this time around, it provided one more thing, one I had direly needed and sought since that fateful day, almost exactly a year ago.

It provided healing.