Meghan's Blog

« Intermission | Main | Stage 6: Endings and Beginnings »

February 26, 2007

Stage 5: Running With Oscar

Route: Cuajiniquil to Playa Junquillal
Estimated Distance: 32k

In Stage 4's description, I left out (because there was simply so much to write about) the running I did with a Costa Rican named Oscar. It seems that during Stages 1 through 3, Oscar and I leapfrogged several times. During Stage 4, I ran with him during the ultra-hot, white-road section between CP3 and CP4. We also ran together for much of Stage 5 and a good portion of Stage 6. Our communication was limited because he knew little English and I knew little Spanish. We formed some sort of bond, though, by running together through those tough times.

It was very hard to move when the alarm went off this morning. I was sore, real sore. Finally, the racing during the day and the sleeping on hard earth at night was catching up to me. My body seemed to take forever to get moving. Added to the morning list of things-to-do was foot care, as my feet were finally becoming torn up. My left big toenail had fluid build-up beneath it which needed to be drained. I had developed a blister beneath a callous on my left big toe which apparently was located in close proximity to a nerve ending, causing discomfort. My left 4th toe and right pinky toe were each losing an entire layer of skin. It was if they were peeling like sunburned skin. They didn't hurt at all, but I taped them so that the friction of running wouldn't rip the skin off prematurely.

I have to mention the huge spider that walked by our tent this morning; it was about 5 inches in diameter, including its legs. What a surprise in those ungodly, pre-dawn hours! It paid us no attention, so we just watched it wander back off into the dark. During the rest of our stay in Costa Rica, we would interact with many more huge spiders. But this was certainly an interesting introduction.

After the morning routine, we loaded on a bus for a short transfer to the starting line for Stage 5. Our camp's location was on the east side of the insanely trafficked Pan American Highway and the Pacific Ocean, today's destination, was on the west side. For some reason, race officials didn't want us to run the gauntlet of trying to cross this crazy highway on foot. I appreciated the ride!

The bus arrived in the village of Cuajiniquil (which I still don't know how to pronounce) about 45 minutes before the 7am starting time. We runners were presented with a logistical challenge: there was no place to go to the bathroom. The town was still all quiet at this hour, so there were no stores or restaurants to visit. It was a town, so one couldn't exactly find a tree to hide behind. All kinds of creative solutions were reached by runners, and I probably shouldn't elaborate further! Myself and a few other runners were fortunate to find a man in his front yard down, and we asked to use his restroom. After this unique experience, I will never again compain about porta-pottie lines before a race in the United States!

The starting line atmosphere was rather subdued today. We all were still smiling and good-natured about the journey ahead, but we were all just a bit quieter. As we stood there, I thought about my plan for the day. At this point, I felt confident that, as long as I didn't fall off a cliff, vomit my intestines, get bit by one of Costa Rica's many venomous snakes (a couple of which had been seen along the course already), break my ankle, or fall victim to any other race-ending situation, I would maintain my place in the cumulative race rankings. Thus, my plan was simply to run smart and run even keel.

At 7am when we started, it was wicked humid and already warm. We weren't far from the Pacific Ocean now, and we could feel its affect on the climate. Stage 5 began in the town square and we headed out of town on a flat dirt road. After about 1k, we enountered a road junction and CP1 was perched at this junction. Since it was way too early to reach a CP, we wise runners deduced that were were running a 10k or so loop that would bring us back by CP1.

This loop was the most pleasant portion of this stage. It was shady and rolling, past little farms, eventually out into the wilderness, and then back to CP1. In this area of Costa Rica, livestock roam free, but in proximity to their farms. I ran within a few feet of many cows, goats, and chickens today! I felt slow and stiff for the entire loop. I can honestly say it took me at least 10k to warm up. I ran most of this loop with the woman who was now in 4th place (the woman who finished 30 seconds before me yesterday) and parts of it with some men. It made the time pass quickly, and it made me forget about the stiffness.

At CP1, I was surprised to see that I had drunk much of my 2 liter Camelbak! I filled it with more fluid, grabbed 2 handfuls worth of watermelon, and headed on. The route wound its way back into the unpronouncable Cuajiniquil, past today's starting line, and out into the wilderness again along another rolling dirt road. The sun was already fierce; there was no wind; the air felt thick with humidity. I kept thinking I could hear the ocean, or that I would finally see it around the next corner. Apparently, not just yet.

Here is where I caught up to and began running with Oscar. We greeted each other like old friends, since we ran about 10k together yesterday. As we were climbing a hill, I asked him when we would see the ocean. A few seconds later and before he could answer, we crested the hill and were greeted with our first ocean view. And it was gorgeous! Several hundred feet below us, a white sand beach met a turquoise ocean in a brillant display. From our vantage point, we could see but not hear the surf breaking just off the beach. Mother Nature managed to induce adrenaline surges in both of us at the sight of the ocean, and we cruised the next few kilometers to CP2.

Again, my Camlebak bladder was nearly empty when I arrived at CP2. I was amazed by the amount of fluid I was drinking in such short periods of time. I refilled, drank a bunch of water, and doused myself with some as well. Between CP1 and CP2, I had been leapfrogging with the 4th place woman. When I left CP2, she was still there, and that was the last time I would see her during the stage.

Oscar and I left CP2 together, and the route headed away from the ocean and into the hills. We were quite disappointed that we were headed away from the ocean. The further we got into the hills, the hotter, drier, and dustier the conditions became. This was also the only portion of the race in which I struggled to stay on the route. We crossed dry stream beds repeatedly, and they looked very much like dirt roads, with vehicle tracks and all. These intersections were unmarked and quite confusing. It was very handy to be running with Oscar; at such umarked junctions, we worked together to find the correct route.

I don't recall the distance between CP2 and CP3, but I do recall it seemed to go on forever because the heat was downright opressive. Oscar and I worked well as a team in this section. He would pull me along the downhills and I would pull him on the uphills. We'd share brief words of encouragement here and there. Mostly, we just ran silently, side-by-side. I can recall distracting myself by trying to match the sounds of his and my footfalls. We both ran out of water well before the next checkpoint. To our happy surprise, the race officals had placed roving aid along this section, and soon a vehicle came by and gave each of us 12 ounce bottles of water. We both finished this water before reaching CP3 as well.

Oscar and I arrived at and left CP3 together, and set out on the last portion of the stage. I'll stop whining about the heat, but it really sucked. We wandered around a dirt road for another seemingly interminate amount of time until finally, finally, finally, the dirt road emptied us out onto the beach at the Pacific Ocean. From there, it was about 1k down the beach on firm sand to the finish line. Somewhere before we arrived at the beach, Oscar and I had swept another guy into our forward motion. The 3 of us ran down the beach together. They eventually took off in a mock sprint to the finish, one in which I didn't care to participate. (Want to see what I'm talking about? Click here, then click on the third update down from the top that's titled, "Costa Rican Juan Carlos Zuniga and American Beverly Anderson-Abbs Win the Coastal Challenge 2007." Oscar is on the right in the top photo, wearing a white shirt. Scroll down to see another photo of just him. Also, I'm the blurry figure in pink in the top photo.)

At the end of this stage, I had increased my lead over the 4th place woman by another 30 or 40 minutes. Barring the disasterous and horrible, I was very safely in 3rd place. I couldn't imagine a more beautiful place for a finish line! Imagine, immediately after finishing a race, eating fresh pineapple while gazing out into a blue Pacific abyss. That really happened!

This beach was also our campsite, which I immediately decided was about the most perfect place on earth to spend the night. All of the pain and discomfort of the previous 5 days melted away when I dropped my body into the ocean. The water was cool and calm, absolutely soothing to the body and the mind. In the evening, the sun set itself right over the water. Exactly as this was happening, dozens of fish were jumping out of the water along the shore. I envisioned the fish giving Mother Nature a jumping ovation for her fine sunset display.

The mood in camp was quite jovial this evening. Somehow, a quantity of beer was produced and light imbibing ensued. People were realizing that the end of the race was close enough to begin the celebrations. We didn't participate, though it looked like fun. My sweetie (My sweetie was having quite the race of his own. It's not really my place to tell his story here. However, Stage 6 was to be a pivotal stage for him.) had a big day coming up, so we rested in our tent.

This was probably our most comfortable campsite of the race. The sand underneath our tent felt downright soft in comparison to the other surfaces on which we had been sleeping. The ocean, about 100 feet away, made quiet lapping noises against the shore throughout the night. A light ocean breeze fluttered through our wide open tent, making it cool for sleeping. Under such perfection, my tired body was asleep almost instantly.

Posted by Meghan at February 26, 2007 6:36 PM

Comments

Posted by: backofpack at February 26, 2007 9:20 PM

Posted by: anne at February 26, 2007 10:17 PM

Posted by: olga at February 27, 2007 10:20 AM

Posted by: tom riley at February 27, 2007 10:55 AM

Posted by: Jenny at February 27, 2007 7:40 PM

Posted by: Beth at February 27, 2007 8:02 PM

Post a comment

Name:

Email Address:

URL:
Remember Me? YesNo

Comments: