Race Report: Taking on THE KRAKEN (Puerto Rico 150+)

ROMERO vs. THE KRAKEN

Ancient greek mythology describes The Kraken as a legendary sea monster of magnificent proportions that lived in the sea and attacked ships and coastal villages.  The tales say that it dwelt off the coasts of Norway and Greenland . . . well, the tales were wrong.  The Kraken lives in the Caribbean, and I experienced the beast in all its fury 3 weeks ago during a 51 hour battle with the beast.

This is my race report for the PR150+ (www.puertorico150.com) footrace traversing the island of Puerto Rico covering a distance of 185 miles on asphalt with a total elevation change of 46,000’.  It has been 3 weeks since my experience with The Kraken (my personal name for the PR150+).  I have purposefully waited to write-up a race report, as I knew the experience warranted careful reflection prior to sharing in the hopes that I could do the experience justice.  It was a monster of a challenge, and not for the weary of heart.  So here goes . . .

I still remember the moment that I first heard of the race.  I was reading an article late at night about Traci Falbo’s running accomplishments in late November 2014.  In the article, I caught a statement that she was planning to run across Puerto Rico with Joe Fejes in January 2015.  I had met Joe a year earlier at Across the Years when he ran against the great Yannis Kouros.  I contacted Joe on FaceBook and was connected with the Race Director of the PR150+, Luigi Dessy.  I still remember writing the Race Director and begging him to let me in.  The website said that the trans-island run was by invitation and if a person wanted to apply their running resume needed to be significant.  I lived in Puerto Rico for 6 years and I was not going to be left out.  I wrote in the best Spanish I knew, shared all that I had accomplished as a runner and human.  Then, I prayed that it would be enough for me to participate in the run.

Luigi called me to talk about the race and my qualifications.  When I spoke with Luigi he had a warm, pleasant aura in his voice.  I immediately recognized that Luigi had the island in his heart.  He is an amazing runner with many 100+ mile finishes, including the Badwater 135; and, he is even a more amazing person.  He is caring, kind and compassionate.  We should all have more Luigi in us.  Getting back to the race report, after an hour and a half conversation with Luigi, I learned that he was going to let me compete in the race! 

PR150+ Course Map traversing Puerto Rico

As I studied the race, I learned that this route had never been completed before.  The prior year Luigi did the first trans-island crossing from the Eastern most point to the Western most point logging 161 miles in 42 ½ hours.  This year the course was modified at the request of Charlie Engle (of Running the Sahara fame).  More miles and more climbing was added to the course.  I also looked at the heat and humidity and realized that a January race would be a shock to my system as I live and train in Colorado.  I reached out to some of the best ultra-runners I know including Scott Gordon, Ed Ettinghausen and Mike Oliva . . . all of them told me this was a different type of monster than any of them had faced.  The sheer 185 mile distance on all asphalt was a big concern, but all of them came back to a concern with heat & humidity.  Many had experienced dry heat, but there was not much advice on heat & humidity in combination.  The common piece of advice was “start slow, real slow”.  I knew at that point, I may have bitten off more than I could chew – which is not a new thing in my life.

At that moment, I had to summon up all my confidence, experience and courage to create a plan of action.  My plan was to run long efforts, real long efforts.  I knew I also had to train on hard surfaces like concrete and asphalt.  Gone would be soft grass and beautiful mountain trail runs.  Finally, I needed to somehow train my body to adapt for the heat and humidity.   Another challenge of this race was that it would be “self-supported” . . . meaning, that the runner was responsible to provide his/her food, drink and first aid for anything less than an emergency.  This meant I had to assemble a crew.

L to R: Jason, Taylor, Maxine, Cindy

My crew ended up consisting of my Mom, Cindy Epstein, who has crewed me at all my races since day one.  My Aunt, Maxine Chavez, who has decades of experience as a nurse and has crewed me in a 100 mile race and 72 hour race.  My daughter had intended to crew, although poor relations with her mother caused my daughter to not be able to make the trip.  Finally, a co-worker of mine, Taylor Shain, at the Boulder Running Company offered to join in for the adventure.  I remember receiving an e-mail from Taylor and reading in his signature that he was a “cinematographer”.  I asked Taylor if he would be interested in creating a brief documentary of the run . . . I wanted to have something to use at future speaking engagements and to try to recruit some sponsors for some larger undertakings.  Taylor graciously accepted and was excited to film, crew and support the adventure.  Now it was time to train.

Training consisted of a 100 mile run in November and a couple marathons, a 100 mile run in December and a couple marathons, and a 45 mile run on January 1^st to celebrate the year I would turn 45 years old.  There were many shorter distance running sessions, strength training, swimming and biking.  My 44 year old body held up well, and my HOKA ONE ONE’s carried me through the training unscathed.  I trained in Bondi Bs, Bondi 3s, Stinson Trail and Cliftons.  A month before the race I began doing heat and humidity training.  I was training in Colorado where the temperatures were in the 30-40s and almost no humidity and I was going to be racing in 85-90 degree temperatures with 80%+ humidity.  I went to my local 24 Hour Fitness and went directly to the steam room and hot tub.  I would spend a minimum of an hour moving between the two environments.  I read that heat above 70 degrees could increase your heart rate by 10 beats per minute.  I also learned that humidity above 50% could increase your heart rate by an additional 10 beats per minute.   The reason for the increased heart rate was because your body was trying to cool itself.  The heart needed to work harder to get more blood to your skin for cooling.  I had experience with the body cooling itself in dry hot environments.  I knew I just needed to hydrate, replenish electrolytes and avoid sun/heat stroke.  I did not know how my body would cool itself when it was constantly wet (in a humid environment) and the moisture could not evaporate.  I also couldn’t find any articles on how the physiology worked.

My heat & humidity training consisted of doing “step ups” in the steam room for a 10 minute period to get my core heated up and heart rate up.  Usually I could get 500 steps in that time period at an easy pace.  I would leave the steam room, fill my water bottle with water and go immediately into the hot tub immersed up to my neck.  Sometimes I would do “freestyle kicking”; other times I would just stretch or sit there and sweat.  After 10 minutes, I would refill my water bottle and go back into the steam room to do more step ups.  By this time, my heart rate was racing and I was not able to bring it down.  It remained at a constant, uncomfortable rate due to the heat and humidity.  Even when I did nothing, after 30 minutes of being in the steam room and hot tub, my heart just surged.  I suffered for the last 30 minutes of the training session, believing that the last 30 minutes was about training my mind to understand how not to quit when the environment was inhospitable.  I believe the physiology of what I was doing was to increase my capillary capacity.  By doing this 3-4 times a week for the month leading up to the race, it was my hope that my body would form more capillaries near the skin so more blood could be pumped to the surface and cooled more efficiently.  I have no idea if the body could do this; however, I do know that when you stress the body it reacts and compensates to overcome stressors that are placed upon it.

After a couple months of training, the time had come for travel to Puerto Rico.  I had my kids the night before I left and we spent quality time together.  The morning I was leaving, I walked my eldest daughter, Sierra, to the bus stop at 5:50 am.  My son, Sage, and I ate breakfast together and talked before he boarded the bus for school.  Finally, I walked my youngest daughter, Sofia, to school and she got me with a couple “slug-bugs.”  I always miss my kids so much whenever I travel to races.  For this race, I made us all a picture card with our Christmas Picture on the front and a picture Sierra had drawn of “Stitch” that said “Ohana means family, and that means nobody is left behind or forgotten.”

  

Finally it was time to leave to the airport, and I was on my way back “home” to Puerto Rico,  to do battle with The Kraken.  I had lived in Puerto Rico for 6 years while I worked for GE.  In my corporate years, I was a Site Leader and General Manager for GE Capital in Puerto Rico.  I had a team of over 200 people on the island, and those were some of the best years of my life.  I learned a lot from my time on the island, and I was looking forward to being back with good friends and warm hearts.  We stayed with one of my former work colleagues, Desiree Anglada.  She put all four of us up at her home, and took a day off work to just take us around and make sure we had what we needed.  She is an amazing lady, and has been an angel in my life, as a professional colleague and as a friend.

L to R:  Jason, Desiree, Maxine, Cindy & Taylor

We rented a mini-van that would serve as our home for up to 60 hours, as we crossed the island.  It had a lot of room, and we needed to stock up with supplies.  We made a trip to Wal-Mart and loaded up with water, fruit, carbs, juice, potato chips, jerky, mountain dew, and tons of other well preserved foods.  When we left that shopping trip, I felt uneasy as I saw so many “junk carbs” and food that could cause sharp insulin spikes and crashes.

Survival shopping:  Food, water & first aid supplies

Next, we headed to packet pick-up to get our race bib, and race information from Luigi and his team.  We were greeted with huge hugs, warm smiles and a feeling of family.  At that point it hit me that it was really going to happen, and it was time to perform.  Nerves set in.  I realized that I had dragged 3 people with me to an Island in the middle of the Caribbean, we had been executing a plan to adventure across an island to do something nobody had done before.  We did not know what lay ahead of us, or what we would encounter.  This was truly an expedition.  The other thing that hit me for a moment, was that this team was relying on me as their runner to get the job done.  There was no option other than finishing.  I knew it was going to hurt.  I knew that there would be times when I would want to quit.  I knew that there would be problems that we never anticipated and we would need to work through them.  I knew there would be times when tempers would be short, and we would need to re-group as a team so we did not disintegrate.  There was a moment of panic.  When I realized what was happening in my head, I chose to think positive.  I began thinking about the beauty of the island that I knew we would see.  I thought about all the friends we would make along the way.  I thought about the times I knew we would have when I would be humbled to see this team of people working together for only one purpose – to get us to the finish, 185 miles from the start.  I thought of how our lives would forever be changed as a result of embarking on the journey together.  I thought of how we would reminisce with smiles on our faces, years in the future, talking to people about the adventure we undertook one crazy January in 2015.  How people would stare in disbelief thinking that a human could not do what was being described; but the team would know that it can be done, and that anybody could do it as long as they committed to making Relentless Forward Progress.  That was all I needed to get me back on track and in a race mindset.

L to R: Desiree, Roberto, Jason, Jose & Rene

L to R:  Jason, Jose & Lidia

 Some of my closest team members from GE had organized a dinner 2 days before the race.  I remember walking into the restaurant, and sharing smiles, hugs and embraces with my Puerto Rican family.  It was like it was just yesterday when I had left – that was 5 years ago.  We ate, celebrated, caught up and laughed.  It was a wonderful moment for me.  I was at Peace and Content.  I love these people.  Some of my friends offered to come out and help me run in the night, when it became dark.  I welcomed them and their help.  A day before I arrived in Puerto Rico, a reporter from the local paper had called me and we talked for a bit.  Little did I know that he would write a 2 page article in El Nuevo Dia to celebrate the event and the fact that a Blind Man would attempt to run the island to help children.

On the day before the race, we did probably the most important work of the entire trip.  We went to San Jorge Children’s Foundation, the non-profit beneficiary of the event, to learn more about the organization and life-saving work that they do.  The Foundation was created over 2 decades ago in order to subsidize Medicaid families deductibles for cancer and malformation surgeries and treatments.  As it turns out, we learned that these deductibles were preventing Medicaid families from having their children treated for severe conditions.  The San Jorge Children’s Foundation was formed as a result and their work currently supports and impacts 1,100 children on an annual basis.  We met with Juan Soto, a Director with the Foundation, who spent well over 2 hours with us.  We also met multiple staff members and we could feel how special this organization is.  Their work is lifesaving , and donations can be made at: http://www.razoo.com/story/Puerto-Rico-150-Miles-Endurance-Run-Coast-To-Coast/mobile  

L to R: Juan, Maxine, Jason La Dona, Jared, SherI, Kenny, Cindy & Joe

It was the night before the race, and as usual it was difficult to get any sleep.  I did my best to keep still, lying on my back, crossing my hands on my belly and concentrating on breathing.  Some of my enlightened friends call this meditation, I think.  As it turns out, I was able to get about 4 hours of sleep.  I had to wake up at 2 am in order to get ready, meet a group to follow to the start, which was an hour away.  I did my race day ritual of a shower with Thunderstruck (AC/DC), Right Now (Van Halen) and Lunatic Fringe (Red Rider) playing in the background.  That always gets me in the right state of mind to take on any challenge.  Our van was loaded, and Desiree took us to the meeting point.  I road with Desiree to thank her and let her know how much I appreciated her friendship.  She would be taking a business trip and I would not see her before we left the island.  We arrived at the meeting point for the racers at San Jorge Children’s Hospital in San Juan.  I jumped out of the van and went to visit with other racers.  I met some wonderful people.  One person in particular stood out – a German man with a very nice disposition, Kai Griebenow.  He was so gracious and offered to help me as I tried to find my crew in the dark.  He obviously knew of my visual impairment and took positive action to help me without me asking.  I was so touched and appreciative.  Kai has a BIG HEART, and I learned more about this during my trip on the island.  Finally, it was time for the Caravan to head to Roosevelt Roads, the Eastern-most point of the island and an abandoned US Naval Base.  After an hour of driving, we reached the starting area.  There was a small two lane road heading into the Base.  There were a lot of cars, some confusion and a lot of excitement in the air.  Along with the 185 mile race, there was a 50 mile race, a 50k race and a 50 mile relay event.  Only the 185 mile racers would get to enter the base.  Our van entered the Base, passing armed US military personnel.  

With Charlie @ start

Once inside, I met the other runners – Joe Fejes (American Record Holder for 6 days @ 580ish miles),^th Charlie Engle (ultra-beast and Sahara Desert crosser), Jared Fetteroff (26 year old phenom who would complete his 26th 100+ miler with this race), Luigi Dessy (Puerto Rican Ultra-Athlete, Badwater finisher with multiple 100+ mile finishes), “Bacho” Vega (Puerto Rican Beast via Arizona who had run the Javelina Jundred a few months earlier when I was there), Antonio Borques (Puerto Rican Ultra-Athlete who had completed a North to South crossing of Puerto Rico) and Luis “Vini” Lopez (Puerto Rican prodigy triathlete & runner).  It was an amazing feeling to be in the presence of all these athletes who had such amazing accomplishments.  You could sense each runner was in a different state of mind.  I happened into Charlie Engle, probably the greatest conversationalist I’ve met to date.  That guy can talk about anything, and make it interesting.  Turns out he and his wife live a stone’s throw away from Taylor’s (on my crew) hometown – small world.  Soon we were instructed to get into our vans to drive deep into the base so we could get to the ocean.  We ended up getting lost a couple times, making u-turns and eventually finding our way to a jeep road with deep vegetation growth on both sides of our van.  I heard doors opening and people saying, “Is this the start?”  I got out of the van and tripped – it was pitch black.  I took that opportunity to do my last “pre-race pit stop”.  I walked to where the runners had assembled.  It turns out we had to hike down a dirt path a hundred yards or so, then scramble down a steep pitch to get to the ocean.  All the runners took a picture before the adventure began.

We walked into the darkness with me holding Taylor's arm as I could see nothing.  My plan was to stay with Luigi as long as I could, as he knew the course.  When it became time to scramble down the steep pitch to the ocean, Luigi said, “Jason, you don’t have to go down.  You can start from here.”  He was concerned about whether I could safely make it down the pitch given my eyesight.  I quickly said, “F--+ No!  I will start with everybody else.”  Luigi laughed and said, “You’re my kinda guy.”  We scrambled, and slid on our butts to the ocean.  I heard the ocean lapping against the rocks.  We took one final picture (I wish I could get my hands on that one); then, Luigi instructed all of us to touch the water and pick up a rock.  We were instructed to carry that rock with us across the island, and when we reached Domes Beach in Rincon, we were to cast that rock into the sea as a ritual of closure of our journey.  I picked up a rock and put it into my pack.  At 6:18 am Atlantic Standard Time, we began our journey to cross the island.

Climb from the ocean with the sunrise flirting.  Jared leads the way.

The adrenaline was amazing.  We climbed up the pitch and began running on the jeep road.  We got turned around a couple times, and the sky began to lighten up.  I was thankful for the sun, as I could begin to run independently.  Taylor, my crew member, did a great job of guiding me and calling out terrain and trail obstacles.  Once we got to the pavement (about 200 yards into the race), the obstacles were potholes and puddles.  I was very careful to avoid getting my feet wet as I realized they would not dry out with the humidity and blistering could be a major problem.  When the sun rose, we were all trotting together.  I could see Fejes and Fetteroff towards the front.  I was just behind, and listening, to Charlie.  At all times I had Luigi in my sights.  After about 4 miles the sun was up and we were at the entrance of Roosevelt Roads.  My Mom was driving our van, which I was following.  She abruptly stopped to avoid a pedestrian crossing in front of the van.  I was directly behind the van chatting with Charlie, did not see the van stop and ran into the van.  Charlie looked at me in disbelief, and I told him it was true that I didn’t see well.  We laughed and continued on.

The pack is together, but not for long.  Amazing group of runners.

The first 10 miles or so were nice warm-up miles.  The road was flat.  The temperature was cool – relatively speaking.  You could hear birds, coquis (indigenous frogs about the size of the last tarsal of your pinky finger that chirp “Ko-Kee”), and the sound of runners breathing.  I was trying to keep to 10 minute miles….no faster.  While talking with Charlie, I had learned that he and his wife had gotten engaged in El Yunque (a beautiful rainforest) the year prior.  Apparently, that was one of the reasons for changing the route to add an extra 20 miles this year – so the race could go through El Yunque.  I looked at this man, who did not have a typical runner’s physique.  Charlie is a fairly “big man”, looking to be 180-190 lbs and approaching 6’0” tall.  I watched him run, and it was not graceful, but it was steady and consistent.  He just moved forward, relentlessly.  He talked a lot about adventures, racing Badwater, sharing race strategy, how he liked to be in the middle to the back early on, then close the gap through consistency in motion.  Suddenly, his crew car came to the side, he had to change shirts because he was soaked.  As he took off his shirt, I saw his back and it was rippled with muscle.  He put on another shirt quickly and continued his methodical movement of running.  He talked a lot about his new bride, and bragged about her many accomplishments and life experiences.  I remember thinking, these two were made for each other.

The next runner I shared miles with was Bacho Vega, a Puerto Rican who lived in Arizona.  He is one of the nicest people you will ever meet.  We connected almost instantly as he told me why he chose to have his race number be 188.  He has a very close connection with Autism, and a recent diagnostic rate of Autism in the general population was 1 in 88 children were being born with Autism.  My son has Autism.  We talked about life, children and how wonderful it was to be back in Puerto Rico.  He too was a consistent and steady runner. 

#188 Bacho Vega

After about 10 miles, we entered El Yunque Rain Forest.  That meant increased humidity and climbing/descending would begin.  I promised myself I would power-hike the climbs and run the flats and descents, when I was able.  So my plan began, I walked the first hill and thought to myself, “how on earth am I going to make it on foot across this island?”  Then, I answered myself out loud, “one step at a time”, and I smiled.  The rainforest was beautiful, but held about 10 miles of small steeps and descents.  We went through the Puerto Rican Parrot Sanctuary, where no sounds were to be made - - - I think we may have broken the rule on a couple occasions.  Never saw a parrot, but I know the endangered bird lives there. 

Feeling the heat and humidity 

During this part of the adventure, my crew would hand me fresh bottles of ice water and follow me with about 20’ between us.  I was being tracked like a wild animal.  It was different than all the other races I had participated in.  Whenever I needed anything, they were there.  The first real aid station was at about mile 30, after exiting El Yunque and returning to flat land.  I stopped there to change clothes as I was sopping wet from the humidity and light rain that we experienced in El Yunque.  I didn’t want wet clothes that would chaffe me, or wet socks and shoes that could cause blisters.  After changing clothes, I realized that some of my crew was moving at a very leisurely pace.  I began getting nervous, and was concerned that they didn’t understand there was a timed cut-off and we needed to always be moving with purpose.  For the duration of the race, everybody needed to be “ON”.  This was not a vacation to the Caribbean, this was a mission and we all needed to have the same mindset to get the job done.  I tried a quick pep talk, although I’m not sure I communicated what I was feeling well.

We took off again, and I immediately was lost.  The course was marked on the pavement with paint.  I was having trouble seeing the markings, and my Mom/Crew was behind me in traffic.  I was forced to stop several times and wait for them to catch up so I would know where to go for the route.  This was a little frustrating, but I realized it was just one of many challenges that would be faced.  I would need to summon all of my patience and use it well to keep my mind positive and clear.  The day had heated up and the sun was soon beating on us.  The temperature was in the low 90s and we were heading to the ocean.  Humidity was at 70-80 percent.  I knew that although the course was flat, the next 25 miles would be hot and humid.  My strategy became to stay as cool as possible and run easy.  I dawned a white hat with a draped neck protector, and I grabbed an umbrella from our van.  When I had no shade, I ran with the open umbrella to help prevent sun stroke.  I also loaded my hat with ice to help my body keep cool.  We applied sun screen often and I was having a great time.

This part of the course was the route I used to ride with my friend, Alex “Jorge” Argueta, when I used to train for triathlons.  Never did I imagine I would run the distance.  As I took inventory of my body, everything felt great.  I was at about 45 miles and running along the ocean.  I saw people on the beach sunning themselves, drinking beers and having a wonderful time at the beach.  It was a great feeling to be back in Puerto Rico.  Soon I was in Pinones, a small beach town adjacent to the airport.  I loved this town, as every weekend it was one giant party.  This Saturday would be no different.  The small two-way street that goes through the town was packed with cars.  Everybody was laughing.  Music was loud, and the smell of fried empanadas and accapuria were in the air.  I could see people drinking Cuba Libres (Rum & Cokes), and I longed for one – just like the old days.  Soon I was past this party haven and into the streets of Carolina.  I was distracted with the scenery and stepped into a puddle of water – OH NO!!!  “Be careful with the blisters”, I thought to myself.  Quickly, I let my Mom know what happened and that we needed to do a sock and shoe change.  I sent them ahead and we agreed to meet in front of the beachfront building where I lived for my last year on the island – Surfside Mansions.  As I approached my old abode, I looked feverishly for my Mom.  She was nowhere to be found.  I didn’t know whether she was lost, didn’t remember where I lived, or if something had happened.  I ended up running by the place we were supposed to meet and growing even more concerned with my wet feet.  Soon I happened upon Luigi.  I told him what had happened and asked if he had a phone.  He helped me get a phone to call my Mom.  It turns out they were parked on the other side of the street from where I was looking for them.  I was really disappointed and frustrated with myself.  That missed opportunity was to be blamed on my eyesight.  I was looking for them, but in scanning the environment I must have not scanned enough and they remained in my blind-spots.  I knew I could not despair and had to continue moving forward.  I had about 7 more miles to go to the finish line for the 50 mile race, where I knew there was a big aid station.  I asked my Mom to meet me there and told myself I would not blister.  I decided to will myself to not blister.  I simply told my feet that they will not blister. 

With the AMAZING Luigi Dessy….a high moment of the adventure

I ran with Luigi and talked with him.  It was wonderful to be with him.  I felt so comfortable with him, and really enjoyed his company.  He led the entire way to the 50 mile finish and we crossed that line together.  When we arrived, I found my colleagues from GE and my youngest daughter’s Godparents & family (The San Miguel and Ortiz families) had come out to cheer us on.  It was an AWESOME feeling.  I also saw Kai and other runners in the 50 mile event.  We took pictures, talked and ate.  I knew that night time would be coming soon, so we did a change of clothes, iced feet and knees, and changed socks and shoes.  My Aunt Maxine worked on my feet, massaging them, and doing some preventative taping of toes where hot spots were beginning to appear.  After some more pics with a lot of folks, it was time to get going again.  

With 50 mile finishers Kai Griebenow, Javier Ramirez and his daughter

Elevating feet, icing knees, clothes change & nutrition before nightfall

With the San Miguel Family . . . my family in Puerto Rico!

At this point, I was provided with a police escort, and a colleague and his wife – Rene Cuello and Maureen Carrasquero – joined our caravan to help me out.  I ran in between two police cars with my crew following and Rene and Maureen close.  I was running by myself and felt like a celebrity.  Cars would pass us cheering us on.  Some would be yelling – “Animo!  Animo! Animo!” (meaning You are an Animal!).  Past 50 miles, there were only 8 runners who would continue for the next 135 miles.  When it got too dark for me to see the lines, I asked for Maureen to run with me.  She and Rene ended up taking turns help me, and when one became tired, the other would relieve the other.  I also had my former neighbor, Sarimar “Sari” San Miguel, join in the rotation.  Her plan was to stay with us until 11 pm, then her brother, Francisco “Pancho” San Miguel, would go through the night with us.  Sari also jumped into the rotation – she would stay with me for long stretches at a time as she is a marathoner.  Soon we were out of San Juan and nearing mile 70.  I knew that the torturous section of the journey was about to begin – 80 miles of mountains.  An unending section of climbing and descending.  I thought I was in 6^th place at this point.  I knew there were 3 out in front, and the rest of us were relatively close to one another.

I knew that this part of the race would be mentally taxing as I would be by myself, and there would be 2 night time sections to endure.

I used my strategy to power-hike the hills, run the flats and downhills.  Soon I saw Luigi pass me.  I didn’t know where his crew was, and he looked to be fairly serious.  This was a look I hadn’t seen before.  It worried me.  Soon we were at the beautiful Puente Colgante (the Hanging Bridge).  It was too dark for me to take in the full beauty of the bridge, but I could see faint images of lines going into the air, and I remembered the picture of the bridge on the Puerto Rico 150+ website.  

I also knew that this meant we were heading into the mountains.  I had been eating parts of a sub-sandwich, oranges, potato chips and snacks.  The majority of my calories had been from drinking Perpetuem.  I had drank 7 bottles (3,500 calories) over the first 12 hours.  My stomach was not feeling that great.  I was urinating regularly and the color was OK.  If you fail to urinate, you are dehydrated and bad things happen.  If your urine becomes brown or red, it means you could have big trouble with internal bleeding or kidney malfunction.  Hence, that’s the reason you always check urine frequency and color in long distance ultra-events.

As we headed into the hills, I noticed that we passed a bunch of cars and a runner on a cot.  I stopped running and asked who it was.  I was told it was Vini, the young Puerto Rican triathlete prodigy.  His crew was helping him and he was covered up.  He was taking a rest and going to try to get some sleep.  I went to him, told him he was strong, rubbed his head and wished him luck.  He had a big smile and I knew he would be up again and running soon.

The temperature had cooled and the humidity lessened as we entered the mountains.  I thought to myself, I have survived.  My goal was to get to the mountains feeling “fresh” (relatively speaking).  I felt good, legs were strong and spirits were high.  My stomach was doing back flips, but I knew that would work itself out after a few pit stops.  Most of that night is a blur.  I just remember making Relentless Forward Progress.  Once and awhile, I would stop, lay on my back and elevate my feet.  I have noticed that in many 100 milers, my feet are in dire pain at the end of the trek.  During a 72 hour race one time, I asked a woman who set a record for grand-masters, how she prevented excruciating foot pain.  She told me every chance she got, she elevated her feet and let them “drain”.  As you run, blood and fluid pools in your feet as a result of gravity.  Over time, this can become extremely painful.  I have taken her advice in the past few 100 mile events I have ran, and it works.  I can stave off excruciating foot pain by elevating my feet for 5 minute periods every 10-15 miles.  I look weird, but I am able to run and run pain free in later stages of races now.

Night running with my PrincetonTec APEX Rechargeable headlamp

We had gotten to mile 94 and it was 4:37 am.  I was trying desperately to get to 100 miles in 24 hours.  It was lightly misting for the past couple hours, and Francisco “Pancho” San Miguel was driving.  My Mom and Aunt were trying to get some sleep.  Pancho drove and Taylor was shot-gun.  They were caring for my needs as we moved forward through the night.  At mile 94 it began to do more than mist, it was all out raining.  I screamed, “PANCHO!!!!!”  He pulled off the road and stopped the van.  Our police escort followed us off the road.  I jumped into the back of the van on top of coolers and luggage.  I found a blanket and told them that I was going to try to sleep.  Their instructions were to wake me in 1.5 hours.  It seemed like I barely shut my eyes and Pancho was saying, “Jason, it’s been an hour and a half.”  I heard his voice and felt refreshed.  I found some dry shoes and socks, got some water and a banana and we were moving again.  I felt brand new.  It was still dark and I knew that when I saw the sun rise I would feel even stronger. 

When the sun finally peeked above the horizon, it was hidden by clouds and fog.  I played “Here comes the sun” by the Beatles, on my iPod.  I felt good, but there were A LOT of climbs.  I just couldn’t get any momentum.  Pancho was talking with our police escort at one of our stops and he told us that 3 of the 8 runners had dropped out during the night.  The news almost stopped me in my tracks.  I did not know who had dropped, or if they were OK.  Upon asking more questions, we learned that Luigi had dropped for safety reasons as he was excreting blood.  Luigi had been marking the course the day before, performing Race Director duties for the 2 weeks prior, and had opportunities with his crew.  Next, we learned that Antonio had dropped, although we never fully understood what happened – we did know that he was safe and sound.  Finally, we were told that Charlie had dropped due to extreme blistering.  Apparently, Charlie was trying to push through the night in the rain and had not done enough sock and shoe changes.  As a result, his blistering became severe and stopped him.  With that news, I was concerned, very concerned.  2 of the strongest runners had succumbed to The Kraken.  I did not know how the other runners were doing, although we would hear periodically that Fejes and Fetteroff were duking it out.  I decided that the mountains and The Kraken deserved my utmost respect.  I advised my crew that I was going to power-hike them.  I was averaging 16 minute miles as we approached Cerro Punta, Puerto Rico’s highest point at 4,390 feet.  It seemed like we would never arrive.  The mountains also began to heat up and I again found myself with ice in my hat and my trusty umbrella.  At around noon, we finally reached the base of Cerro Punta.  Pancho’s parents were meeting us there to pick him up and bring us rice and beans.  I had discovered, that this was my new super food for running.  It had a ton of carbs and protein.  My body loved it, and I was feeling good by eating it.

At the base of Cerro Punta, we met Luigi and Juan Soto of the San Jorge Children’s Foundation.  I was extremely impressed that Juan had taken his Saturday to trek out to the middle of the island to support our efforts.  We all climbed Cerro Punta together.  We talked of races, life and we laughed.  Given the steepness of the climb, I was surprised I was able to talk.  Finally, we reached the base of some stairs, then after about 1 minute we were at the highest point in Puerto Rico.  It was beautiful.  On a clear day you can see the ocean to the north and the ocean on the South side of the island.

With Luigi Dessy, Taylor Shain and Juan Soto (taking this picture) atop Cerro Punta, the highest peak in Puerto Rico 

I shared some words & hugs, then, I decided it was time to continue moving forward.  I made the descent, picked up my umbrella and a fresh water bottle, then I was shuffling downhill.  Finally, there was relief from the big climbs.  Any climbs that we encountered were not like what we had been met with previously.  They were short, quick climbs.  Mostly we were going downhill.  My feet were aching horribly.  I had felt my toes rubbing the front of my shoes and blisters beginning to form.  Finally, I asked the van to pull over . . . my feet needed relief.  I remember seeing Joe Fejes at Across the Years when he cut the toe box off his shoes.  I remember my mom telling me that my Uncle Ted Epstein used to do the same to relieve pressure.  I also remembered talking to Joe Fejes at the beginning of this race and him saying that was the first thing he does when he gets a new pair of shoes – cuts the toe box off.  I decided it was time for surgery.  I got a sharpie and drew a line across the toe box.  I needed to have my toes freed, and no pressure on my pinky toes.   I took a razor and scissors and completed the surgical procedure.  When I put the shoes on they felt different, but comfortable.  My feet were in bad shape, and I knew if I didn’t find a good solution the last 55-60 miles would be very ugly.  We taped all of my toes; even the ones that did not have hot spots.  We also applied tape to the soles of my feet where I was feeling friction.  

 

That was about mile 125.  I suffered through another 5 miles and I knew things were not good.  I was moving too slow.  As I did the math, I assumed I could walk 20 minute miles for the remainder of the race and, if I was lucky, I would get in right at the 60 hour mark.  I let my crew know of the direness of the situation.  I remember being at about mile 130 with Taylor.  I think he was filming and walking beside me.  I told him that we needed to cover at least another 20 miles, then I wanted to sleep for a couple hours.  Then, we would have 35 miles to cover in the last 12 hours.  I figured I could walk that in with some run spurts and slide in just under the 60 hour mark.  I was in excruciating pain.  My entire body hurt.  I couldn’t talk anymore, and didn’t want to talk anymore.  I just needed to keep moving forward.

My last words to Taylor were, “we will just have to find a way.”  He got back in the van and I kept walking.  I did what I always do whenever things get tough . . . I began to pray.  I asked Jesus to help me, to ease my suffering.  I began to recite my mantra, “He who believes shall soar high on the wings of eagles, shall run and not grow weary, shall walk and not faint” Isaah 40:31.  After about 10 minutes of this, I began to feel better.  I felt like I could run again, and I did.  I started running and the pain receded.  I kept praying and reciting my mantra.  I ran faster, and faster.  Soon I found myself running up hills like they were nothing.  At times, I felt like I was sprinting and being pulled up the hills at the waist.  My legs were moving effortlessly.  I was monitoring my breathing carefully as I didn’t want an adrenaline burst to unexpectedly drive my heart rate too high.  My heart rate and breathing did not increase, however.  I just ran and it felt good.  I saw the faces of my crew and they were smiling with disbelief.  The police escort behind me would surge with me as I surged.  In a 3 and a half hour time period, we had eaten up the 20 miles we needed to cover.  I thought that was going to take us 9-10 hours and we got it done in 3 ½ hours.  It was nothing short of a miracle.  That miracle took place in the dark.  I had people trying to guide me, but they were not able to keep pace.  One of my coworkers, Lidia Acosta, came out to help me on Sunday evening.  She ran hard with me for many miles.  At times, Lidia was not able to keep pace.  But, she kept coming back to help me.  She would run as hard as she could for as long as she could.  Lidia brought us some of her homemade ravioli, and boy was that GOOD!!!!  I think that gave me a big boost too.  It was so wonderful to know you have real friends thousands of miles away who will help you, when you are in a very tough spot.  Lidia is an amazing woman who has been through many things in her life, and she has always emerged from her trials.  When I look at her, I am truly inspired.  She was exactly the right person to help me, at exactly the right time in the race.  She helped to bring me back.  And, I was back.  I was running again, like the race had just begun.

Finally, it was time for Lidia to get back to San Juan for Monday morning duties.  Meanwhile, I kept running for another 5 miles.  I was finally out of the mountains and on fairly flat land.  It was dark, but I was hauling.  I was putting down 8 minute miles at this late stage of the race.  I would force myself to walk at times as I did not want to burn up.  I was cautiously optimistic.  I wanted to keep running and thought my friend Bacho Vega was within striking distance.  I wanted to catch him and finish with him.  I was running very hard.  I believe we were on the east side of San Sebastian when I was told that Bacho was 20 minutes ahead of me by car.  That doused any thought that I had that I could catch him soon.  A triathlon group from Rincon had sent runners to help guide me during the night.  My first guide arrived and we ran about a mile.  I ducked into a parking lot so I could use the restroom.  Once I took that break, a wave of exhaustion hit me.  I felt really bad as this guide had just arrived and I was suddenly wiped out.  I remember telling my Mom that I needed to sleep, immediately.  My police escort said I could sleep in the back of his car.  My Mom and Aunt put ice wraps on my feet and I passed out.  I remember that the officer turned the A/C on high.  I was freezing, but I didn’t care.  I was off my feet and I was getting a chance to rest.  I had instructed my crew that I could sleep no more than 2 hours.  Again, I barely closed my eyes, and then my Mom was opening the door and telling me it had been 2 hours.  I put fresh socks on and dry footbeds into my toeless shoes.  I also put on a fresh shirt and some cologne – I STUNK!  When I stood up, I knew I could get the job done.  I only had 30 miles to go and about 14 hours to get the job done.

I had two carloads of guides who were triathletes.  The leader of this group was Aurora – I never got her last name.  It was dark and I could not see faces.  I just remember how nice everybody was to me.  I would be running as hard as I could, and there would be a person next to me telling me to move left or right to avoid potholes and puddles.  I remember one lady name Crystal.  She had her hat on backward, came to my side and said, “My name is Crystal.  I’m going to stay with you until the end.  You are doing good.”  In my heart, I had a HUGE SMILE.  On the outside, I think I said, “I don’t want to talk.”  I was so happy these people were with me.  I would run for awhile, then another would jump in and relieve that guide.  We were moving fast.  I heard my Mom say, “he’s running too fast.  He’s going to burn himself out.”  That thought had crossed my mind as well; however, I put it all in God’s hands and just kept praying.  I turned off my iPod so I could focus on my mantra and keep praying.  I walked the hills, even the slight hills.  When it flattened, or was downhill . . . I felt like a sprinting gazelle being chased by a lioness. 

The third sunrise came and we were only 10 miles from the finish.  We had cleared another 20 miles in close to 3 ½ hours.  The sun was rising, and I again played “Here comes the sun” by the Beatles.  Sunrise always brings new energy in ultras.  For me, it also brings back my sight.  For me, the night time can be mental torture constantly reminding me that I am heading into darkness.  Little by little, retinitis pigmentosa is robbing my eyes of sight.  I counter that with my growing my Faith, heart and will-power.  When the sun comes up, it is like my sight has been restored.  For some reason, the lows of darkness in Puerto Rico were not as deep as I’ve experienced in most ultras.  I didn’t get that down when it was dark.  I wasn’t reminded that much of my ailing sight.  But, when that sun came up, I was as happy as a dog with two tails.

Those last 10 miles soon became 5.  And as the sun rose into its blistering burning ball of torment.  I knew that at most I would have to battle The Kraken for a little over an hour.  I had plenty of time to walk it in; however, I wanted to run as much as I could.  Soon, Luigi came to my side.  A Race Director who actually finishes the race alongside you?!?!?!?!  This was AWESOME!!!  Finally, those last 5 miles were whittled down to 2 miles and I was in Rincon.  All I needed to do was make my way to the lighthouse and touch the door.  There were throngs of people running alongside me.  Police sirens were deafening, with their lights flashing and blazing.  Over the loudspeaker they would play “We are the champions” and “Eye of the tiger”.  It was like a scene from a movie, and I was the star.  There were a couple times that I started crying as I was running.  I was overwhelmed with what we had almost done.  As I write recounting this now, I am losing breath and feeling that same joy.  Soon, I saw Kai – the German man I had met before we caravanned out to the start line.  I learned that he is a professor at the University of Puerto Rico and he has graduated13 PhD candidates.  He said that he drove all the way to Rincon to see me finish and run in with me.  I was “awe-struck”, and still am.  Kai is my man!

L to R:  Kai, Alberto, Crystal, Me & Luigi entering Rincon

Soon 2 miles was down to 1 and it was almost over.  I was sad and glad at the same time.  Crystal was still there, at my side.  So were a bunch of Rincon triathletes – my faithful guides who brought me out of the darkness and into the light.  Who stayed with me to ensure I would have whatever I needed.  I remember looking at my Mom, Aunt Maxine and Taylor in the van.  They were all smiling from ear to ear.  We all knew that we had done something extremely special.  It was about to happen.  We turned a final corner and we were on the final approach to the lighthouse.  Luigi’s wife, Glenda, and the co-race directors, Efrain and Liz were at the lighthouse parking lot.  I had my mom park the van and I waited for everybody to exit.  I got the rock out of my pack that I had picked up at the start.  My Mom and I hugged.  My Aunt Maxine and I hugged.  I made Taylor put away his camera and we hugged.  We all walked 20 feet through the parking lot to the lighthouse steps, smiling from ear to ear.  Crystal brought me what I had asked for 20 miles prior – a Cuba Libre with Don Q Cristal and Diet Pepsi.  I was happy.  I walked to the door of the lighthouse.  I knelt and thanked God for giving me the strength to finish the race, for my crew, for my children, for my girlfriend Donnamarie and her children, for Luigi, for Kai, for all my friends in Puerto Rico who had guided me and supported me, for all the police who had kept us safe, for all of the people along the way who honked horns and cheered, for the San Jorge Children’s Foundation, and for all children who are suffering and need help.  After praying, I raised myself, walked to the door and touched it!

Thanking God

Luigi and I walked a few yards to Domes Beach, the Westernmost point of the island,  and we returned the rock I had taken from Roosevelt Roads, the Easternmost point of the island..  It was done.  We had defeated The Kraken.

Pictured with Luigi and my Mom…..completing a journey of a lifetime across Mi Isla del Encanto! 

Jason Romero is a highly sought after inspirational speaker and the 1st and only blind person to run across America.  Jason is a member of the US Paralympic Team, holds 11 world records in ultra-running, a former attorney and business executive, and a single father of 3 children.  More information can be found on Jason at www.relentlessromero.com.