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36MI, 10,400FT, SOLO (INDONESIA 2018)

On less than 5mi training, 12 sweat-soaked hours of aggressive hills laid bare the gritty resilience that's found beneath the ideals of perfect preparation. Intense sun, freedivers out of water, and thoroughly bemused Balinese farmers.


Whilst freediving in Amed, Bali, an urge to run again quickly escalated into an epic challenge on the sun-baked trails of Bali’s north-east coast. The catch: I’d not run more than a few steps for over two months. Run in aid of ocean plastic pollution, it was a challenge designed to test me mentally – a small, repeated loop with a monstrous 1,450ft (440m) ascent and descent in just over 4mil (7km). An experience of the real Bali, raw and rural, and a celebration of the gritty resilience and baseline ability that flows unacknowledged beneath the ideals of perfect preparation.


Photos curtesy of Tom Curtis and others

Anchor 1





It all began on a summer walk, above the shimmering blue waters of Jemaluk Bay, north-east Bali. Having left behind the trails of Fiji and the Lost Island Ultra two months previous, I was learning to freedive at the time.


31st May 2018



It was absolutely stunning: a deep yellow sunrise shining through the trees, illuminating the huge leaves like lanterns, and the sparkling deep blue of the sea far down below. At the apex of the loop we were high enough to look beyond, down into the next valley. Breath-taking – like a verdant green rug, wrinkled and draped over a bolster, sloping down to the sea, with the volcanic majesty of Agung’s full 3000+m rising dramatically through the mists behind.


Passing through the rural settlement of Gitgit, the way up is mostly an overgrown double-track of steep concrete, but the way down is far more technical – dirt track and broken rock. It’d be so good to run. I felt the freedom of the trail in a way I haven’t since the mud jungles of Fiji, and an overwhelming urge to run again. I feel a need to really push myself once more – it’s a feeling that’s been building for a while.




In my mind an idea began to form: a 12hr run, completing the loop as many times as I could. Off the back of my self-transcendental exertion on Stage 3 of the Lost Island Ultra, a major inspiration for this challenge was to create an opportunity to test if I could push myself without external motivation. I wanted to see if I could dig as deep when running alone. The idea was to force myself to reach a point where I had to break through mentally – I figured that with my lack of (read ‘non-existent’) training, 12 hours would be more than adequate to do just that, and the nature of the challenge would mean that the vast majority would be unseen and unappreciated by anyone else. Perfect.


More than anything though, I was just missing running. Over two months since the high of the Fiji event, and I hadn’t run once, unable to muster the energy alongside the all-encompassing fatigue of training freediving. Like a quitting smoker that finds a stray cigarette in some deep pocket, this run would be the perfect excuse to get my fix.


And so that was that. 12 hours of solo trail on a big hill, with full exposure to the Balinese sun. In the middle of dry season. Add to that the fact I’d done no running for over two months and you have the full package. Has there ever been a better idea? I didn’t think so.





Freediving on Bali’s north coast for the previous two months, every few days we would receive a new gift of ocean plastic. Sometimes just a stray grocery bag, but at other times you’d look up to see an almost unbroken sheet of rippling plastic engulfing the buoy. In those moments, running out of air seemed a more attractive option than resurfacing!


Seriously though, the state of our oceans at the moment is pretty hideous. Every day more plastic washes up on the beaches and we hear more horror stories of marine wildlife choked, suffocated or disfigured by floating plastic. Unless we do something, that plastic isn’t going anywhere, and it’s fast becoming a very serious threat. 


Through my run I raised funds for tackling ocean plastic there in Amed, in collaboration with the freediving school, Apneista, and Parley’s 100 Islands’ Protected initiative. In total the run raised £495 for the cause, which, with only a couple of weeks warning, I think was pretty good. The whole situation did make me feel a little awkward though:


17th June 2018

(day after the run)



I do feel slightly fraudulent though. Everyone keeps making it out as if I’ve made some great sacrifice for the cause. It’s just not true. Those who supported me for the run, whether in logistics, crewing or donations, were actually just enabling me to do something I enjoy for my own pleasure – something that seems difficult for others to grasp, not possessing the ‘unique’ perspective of the ultra-community!






After the first walk I returned a few days later for a second circuit, this time running, and carrying a GPS watch with me to measure the statistics.


5th June 2018



Ran the ridge loop in full this morning. It was hard – harder than I expected. It begins with about 2mi of solid, steep uphill power-hiking, on a concrete double track that winds up the hill ridge. At the top, overhanging the road, is the Warung which, after one final small ascent, marks the start of a short undulating earth trail across the top of the valley. This drops down onto the opposite arm of the valley in a magnificent 1.5mi of technical descent and switchbacks that alternate from dry rock-strewn earth trail, and roughly-cobbled slopes of pointed rock edges. I still can’t get over how good this trail is – so much fun to run. It’s a quad buster though, and technical. I’m going to have to be very careful not to stack it in the later stages of the run. It finishes with a particularly horrible slope of concrete, and then winds through a small village back to the main road. A mile along the road at sea-level takes you back to the shop.


The full loop is 4.4mi (7km) with 1,450ft (440m) of ascent and descent. It took me 51minutes I wasn’t absolutely busting it, but I wasn’t hanging around either. The final flat road mile hurt. It took a lot more out of me than expected. 12hrs is going to be so hard, even thinking about going to do a second lap was pretty bad – I was in quite a lot of pain finishing just the one.


The route and elevation profile of the loop I would run for 12 hours



I cobbled together everything I’d need from the mismatch of kit I happened to be travelling with. Luckily, I had one pair of running shorts and socks, and a pair of boots (well, that or flip-flops). Although designed for running, I’d never run in them before, and they were much heavier than I was used to. Also fully waterproof, sweat pooled uncomfortably inside them. Not ideal…


I picked up a 600ml plastic bottle (hypocritical I know…) and found what I could in the local supermarket, stealing some table salt from a local restaurant as electrolytes. Added to a couple of energy bars left over from the Fiji race and a generous ‘sponsorship’ from a local Warung (curtesy of Wayan – the best cook in Amed), I had a veritable feast of nutrition options!



  • TRIBE bar

  • Peanut and date mix (my tried and tested No.1 nutrition formula I take on every long run)

  • Various chocolate bars (I even managed to find a knock-off Snickers – the Knocker’s Bar)

  • Nachos

  • Fresh coconut

  • Chopped fruit: Papaya, pineapple, watermelon, banana

  • Rice

  • Wayan’s satay chicken 

  • Wayan’s peanut sauce (the best sauce in Bali and perhaps the world)

  • Wayan’s hummus pizza

  • Wayan’s vegetable curry



  • Hydralyte diarrhoea rehydration tablets

  • Coconut water

  • Table salt (taken straight and added to food)

My plan was to eat and drink as much as I could at the Apneista shop each round, and take with me a small bag of my date and peanut mix to snack on as I ran. I could also refill my water bottle at the small shop/warung near the top of the hill (approximately halfway).


13th June 2018



Everyone is being very supportive, and I’m extremely grateful to them all for their enthusiasm – quite a fascination seems to be building for the strange, slightly perverse spectacle to come. Maria has even offered to be there for the 5am start, and Wayan sorted me with all sorts of food today, including a huge papaya from her garden – I’ll be running on traditional Balinese fare it seems. I can’t thank her enough. 


It really feels like the run is actually happening now: I have no way to back out after all this support and expectation. Magda has even produced a couple of large banners (the unique design credit to Tom, crafted in a spontaneous few minutes of creative impulse). Pressure’s on!


Fuel and support sorted!



As the ordeal loomed closer I considered what was to come. It slowly dawned on me just how much of a challenge I’d taken on. It was considerably tougher than any single period of running I’d ever done before, and this time I had no training whatsoever to back me up. I was pretty confident I’d be able to keep going for 12 hours through sheer bloody-mindedness: the question was what state would I be in.


15th June 2018 

(night before the run)



I’m expecting this to be a true test of resolve in my current training condition. It’s going to hurt from Lap 1 – 12hrs of sheer pain and the euphoria that brings. The trick, I think, is to convince myself I have no choice – then I’ll just do it. If I tell enough people that becomes a reality.


A year ago I would never have even thought this possible without extensive physical preparation, but now I know better – it’s all mental. The body can always do more. And it’s often when you’re feeling worst that the new surges of energy come. Anyway, I can always just go to the point of physical collapse. There’s no shame in ‘giving up’ that way, as long as it’s genuinely the furthest limits you can manage, which to be honest I know I’ll never reach here – no-one would in just 12 hours.


Why am I doing it? The plastic, sure, but if I’m honest that’s not the real driver behind it. I think it’s a combination of needing something new to challenge myself, and a need to prove the depth of my mental capacity. It’s purely personal. I feel a need to prove it to myself to feel justified, and in a way, qualified, to follow the path I wish to tread and promote.


Photos from the recce run a few days before





I woke at 4am and forced down a TRIBE bar, banana, some almonds and a few slices of coconut. I met Maria at Apneista at 4.30am. I wasn’t nervous, just excited to get going.


Starting at 5am on the dot, the first lap was actually very comfortable and went by extremely fast, the light of my headtorch bobbing from rock-to-rock in front of me. I love running in the dark – there’s something about the silence and pallid light of the headtorch – just you and the circle of trail before your feet. Time passes unnoticed and it’s easy to turn inside yourself and allow the trail to pass naturally below you. I was back within an hour and five, I hadn’t pushed and it felt good. I grabbed some pineapple and pizza, refilled my peanut and date mix and was onto the next lap in less than two minutes.


The sun soon came up, flooding the valley with dawn light. Halfway up the hill I turned a corner to an incredible vista of Agung, standing proud in the golden light. The second lap was also very comfortable, and I floated down the trail from rock to rock, and back along the road to Apneista. I guessed residual fitness from my Lost Island Ultra training a few of months before must have been carrying me so far. Once again I was quick through the aid station, where Maria was sitting patiently reading, and back onto the winding ascent, just as the heat began to intensify. Stupidly I forgot my hat and had to wait till the following lap for its relief. 


By now I had the course pretty dialled, and the best paths through the technical sections were becoming drilled. Yet, even though I knew every switchback, both the up and down were too long and too samey to remember exactly how many or their order. I never did manage to get it completely memorised, and so, each time I ascended it became that familiar drudgery of not knowing exactly how much further. Many times I’d think I was on the final turn, only to realise I had yet another set of switchbacks and identical steep corners to complete before I reached the Warung at the top. It forced me into a mindset of acceptance – focusing on the moment and not the turns to come. It was a route of four parts: the ascent, the short top section, the descent, and the road: by far the most unpleasant section of all. They were my goals, and my mind would work with each chunk of at a time – I would look no further ahead than the current section. It’s far more manageable that way.


I started to feel it a little on the third lap – tiredness in my legs and the beginning of cramping in my quads. I staved off the latter temporarily by begging some salt from the locals at the Warung on the top of the hill – they thought I was crazy. From that point on they provided me with a little platter of table salt: I washed down a few pinches each time I paused to refill my water. Time continued to fly though and I was down the hill and back to Apneista still feeling pretty fresh and strong. The shop had opened and many people were there; their passing support gave me a boost of positivity.





Laps four and five were where it began to really hurt. The uphill became very slow and high exertion – that heightened heart-rate of endurance effort, brought on as much by exhaustion as by the work itself. A part of me loves it. But it’s painful, especially in this heat and when you’re not conditioned for it – I had to sit or lie down in the shade for a moment from time-to-time to freshen my legs and lower my core temperature. The heat was really beginning to rise, and shade fast disappearing as the sun rose higher above the trees. Quad cramping began in earnest. I found to my surprise that I could actually run on them fairly comfortably (in relative terms) once I’d accepted the cramps were there to stay. So much of pain and our reaction to it is based on perceived anticipation of the damage it’ll cause, whether long-term injury or to the detriment of the current short-term endeavour – a kind of extension of the Central Governor. Transcend this and pain can be viewed objectively and laid aside.


Salt only gave the quads temporary relief – I think my lack of muscle conditioning was possibly a greater contributing factor overall. These laps were a bit of a blur – a physical low, but mentally robust and I met with no internal questioning or self-doubt. Local support (and confusion) was as strong as ever, and the guard dogs barked at me incessantly, skirting skittishly around me as I passed before ‘bravely’ chasing me off from behind. Still, I remember thinking, it only takes one to be a little more aggressive…


I had a longer 15min break at Apneista and got down half a smoothie bowl on top of the standard rice, chicken, fruit, nachos and pizza I was throwing down each round. Eating was going amazingly well; I’d had the calories flowing in from the beginning and had run into no stomach problems yet.


Lap 6 was the worst. I came down mentally – not massively, but enough to ponder why I was doing this. It was a painful couple of hours – the uphill in particular, though the downhill took more out of my already shaky legs. I lay down for two minutes halfway up and I think actually fell asleep – as I stared at my watch time skipped 90 seconds. On the way down I kept mistaking boulders for guard dogs – leaping aside, only to realise my mistake in the ditch afterwards. The heat was bad: even the wind was warm and gave no respite, and, as the sun passed overhead, shade had pretty much disappeared completely. I hit marathon distance at 8 hours – it showed the effect the elevation was having on me. The blaring of horns and bustle of people and vehicles along the road was really getting to me, almost eliciting tears in my emotionally-exhausted state. When the same overweight local woman on the corner asked me if ‘maybe I want lunch’ at her Warung for the 5thtime in 5 laps I almost hit her.


My fingers had also swollen a little, and since I was peeing fine I figured I’d probably overdone it on the salt in my mission to stay hydrated and regulate the quad cramps. Salt wasn’t helping anymore anyway, and by now the cramps were permanent: painful but bearable. My feet were also taking a hammering: toes slamming into the front of my oversized boots every step. But ignoring that, I could roll down fairly easily and recover a little energy before the hellish road section. I received big support at Apneista at the end of the lap and allocated myself a 6 minute stop, lying in the doorway. The Balinese staff had to be reassured by the others a number of times much to Tom's amusement.