A Wild Leap of Faith – For a while now, running has been my happy place. It’s where my thoughts get sorted, my legs get a good workout, and sometimes, I find a deep truth hiding in the dust of a trail. I’ve run full marathons. I even managed to finish some ultra trail races. Last year, my BDG Ultra 64K felt like my own personal Mount Everest. It was my longest run ever, with the most climbing. I felt pretty proud of it, honestly. That was my "normal world" of running – comfortable, familiar, something I knew I could do. Little did I know, I was just looking at the base camp for something much bigger... and definitely crazier.
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| BDG Ultra 100K |
Then, something just clicked. Or maybe a wire short-circuited in my brain! The idea started as a whisper, then shouted like a crazy person on a megaphone: three 100K ultras in eight weeks. Yes, you read that right. My brain, bless its hopeful, over-ambitious heart, thought this was a perfectly normal next step. Was it a brilliant idea? A mid-life moment of madness, but in cool running shoes? Probably a bit of both, seasoned with "why the heck not?"
BDG Ultra 100K became the first step in this wonderfully insane plan. It wasn't just an "upgrade" from my 64K. It was like going from a bicycle to a rocket ship with no instruction manual! Over 6000 meters of elevation gain? This wasn't just a race. This was THE race. My first 100K. My longest run ever. My highest climb. It was a leap into the completely unknown.
Leopards, Doubts, and Training Wisdom
The first rush of excitement quickly changed. It became a mix of "what have I done?" and "am I completely insane?" My inner critic, a rather loud and persuasive friend, started listing all the reasons this was a terrible idea. My feet, still aching from training, were staging their own silent protest.
And as if my self-doubt wasn't enough, just weeks before race day, news broke. A leopard had gone missing from Lembang Zoo. Right near Tangkuban Parahu – part of our race route! Suddenly, every rustle in the bushes wasn't just a friendly squirrel. It was a potentially stressed, hungry, 100K-curious leopard. Who wants to be a personal best for a leopard?
Despite my dramatic inner thoughts and leopard worries, I wasn't totally unprepared. My training wasn't just running; it was my teacher. Semarang Mountain Race 50K, Dieng Trail Run 60K, Maybank Bali Marathon – these weren't just races. They were wise old friends, teaching me patience, strength, and the art of putting one foot in front of the other. They built my foundation. Even if my sanity felt like it was resting on shaky stilts. This steady, sometimes very tough, effort became my guiding light. It prepared me for the beautifully terrifying unknown.