Landmannalaugar,
Iceland
Saturday, July 16, 2022
Race
background: I became interested in
this race during our family vacation to Iceland in 2016. The sheer beauty of the physical surroundings
and remoteness, the snowfields in July, and the river crossings were chief
amongst the features that attracted me. This just seemed like my kind of race. As Chris would later comment, "I can't think of anyone I know better suited for it than you."
With the Laugavegur race
becoming more popular, it was announced late last year that starting with the
2023 edition, the race application requirements would be tightened to require a
certain number of ITRA (International Trail Running Association) points to even apply
for the lottery. For the 2022 race,
there would be two tranches of entrants:
1) those with the minimum required ITRA points who would receive race
entry priority, and 2) general commoners like me with the lowest priority in a random selection (NB: there is a rule that if you apply and fail to get in 2 consecutive years, you're automatically in the 3rd year). Against this backdrop,
on November 11, 2021, I threw my hat into the ring, and much like my lottery
entries into the London Marathon, I had little expectation of success.
Much to my
surprise and excitement, eight days later I received an e-mail stating that I’m
in! About 600 runners got in; about 400 went on a waiting list. I was charged the entry fee of
42,000 Icelandic krona (my highest race fee to date at roughly US $306) and
started planning!
Race
logistics: Fast forward nine months,
and race day is nearly upon us. Jana,
Matthew, and I landed in Iceland 36 hours before the race. As we would be continuing onto Scotland after the
race for an additional week vacation, they both had the option of skipping the race
and meeting me on the flight to Scotland, but fortunately they came along to
Iceland as well.
Saturday morning my alarm went off at 3:50am, and with all the clothing and gear I needed already arranged and laid out the night before, I was quickly up, out the door, and at the appointed bus pickup location at 4:15am as recommended for the 4:30am departure for the 3.5 hour ride to the start at Landmannalaugur. Despite my nervousness, my lack of sleep took over, and I soon fell asleep on the bus as we were leaving the capital city of Reykjavik. When I woke up, it was apparent we had left civilization behind as the bus was now on bumpy one-lane dirt roads and there was nothing around but beautiful mountainous scenery as far as the eye could see. Over the loudspeaker one of the race officials announced that we would soon be stopping for breakfast, and I couldn’t imagine what type of place we would be stopping at given the sheer remoteness.
Fresh from breakfast, I was awake for the rest of the bus trip, and had just over an hour more to go. As we got closer to Landmannalaugur, race instructions were given to us. The instructions really weren’t anything additional or different from what had been communicated several times in e-mails and on the race website, but I listened intently. It was impressed upon us yet again that if anyone were caught littering even a gel packet in this pristine environment, we would be DQ’d. I wouldn’t do that anyway, and certainly wanted to do my part to keep Iceland one of the cleanest countries in the world. It was also reiterated that upon arrival, each runner would be inspected for the four minimum items:
· Whistle
· Working cell phone with the Icelandic emergency number stored
· Jacket
· Space blanket
Race
warm-up: The temperature was 45°F , real feel 39°, winds 12mph, with a light mist upon our arrival. As
we had been warned, there was nowhere to go inside to keep warm or change
clothes and we needed to be dressed in race clothes ready to go when we exited
the bus. I had long pants and a jacket
over my race kit of shorts and a short sleeve shirt, and looking around seeing
no one with exposed legs or arms, I was seriously questioning my choice of
attire as I dropped my bag and pack and went for a short warm-up. I chose the short sleeve over a singlet to
reduce any chafing from wearing a pack for 55K, but was wondering if I should
switch to a long sleeve shirt. Upon my
return, with about 15 minutes to go, I did see a few runners in shorts, albeit
few and far between. I even saw two
women strip down to singlets and arm sleeves, so I decided to stick by my
attire choice. I had my jacket in my
pack if needed, and I added a hat and gloves, and then put everything else in
my bag and checked it to the race finish in Þórsmörk.
Saturday, July 16, 2022
 | ||
| At packet pickup on Friday, one of the race workers asked if I wanted my picture taken in front of the Laugavegur Marathon poster. Sure! Why not?
|
 |
| Close-up of bib. The bottom 1/3 is upside down, designed to be able to flip up during race and see checkpoints and elevation over the course. |
 |
| Neat concept, but I had already committed most of this to memory pre-race and didn't really use it. |
Saturday morning my alarm went off at 3:50am, and with all the clothing and gear I needed already arranged and laid out the night before, I was quickly up, out the door, and at the appointed bus pickup location at 4:15am as recommended for the 4:30am departure for the 3.5 hour ride to the start at Landmannalaugur. Despite my nervousness, my lack of sleep took over, and I soon fell asleep on the bus as we were leaving the capital city of Reykjavik. When I woke up, it was apparent we had left civilization behind as the bus was now on bumpy one-lane dirt roads and there was nothing around but beautiful mountainous scenery as far as the eye could see. Over the loudspeaker one of the race officials announced that we would soon be stopping for breakfast, and I couldn’t imagine what type of place we would be stopping at given the sheer remoteness.
 |
| My hydration pack, soft flask borrowed from Matthew, and mandatory items to be stuffed into pack (from l-r): jacket, space blanket, phone w/ emergency Icelandic number stored, whistle |
 |
| Boarding race buses at 4:30am Yes, it's daylight at 4:30am in Iceland! These buses have bigger tires and higher suspensions for river crossings. |
Fresh from breakfast, I was awake for the rest of the bus trip, and had just over an hour more to go. As we got closer to Landmannalaugur, race instructions were given to us. The instructions really weren’t anything additional or different from what had been communicated several times in e-mails and on the race website, but I listened intently. It was impressed upon us yet again that if anyone were caught littering even a gel packet in this pristine environment, we would be DQ’d. I wouldn’t do that anyway, and certainly wanted to do my part to keep Iceland one of the cleanest countries in the world. It was also reiterated that upon arrival, each runner would be inspected for the four minimum items:
· Whistle
· Working cell phone with the Icelandic emergency number stored
· Jacket
· Space blanket
 |
| Runners lining up at the breakfast buffet at the very remote Highlands Center in Hrauneyjar . I went with oatmeal and toppings, toast, cheeses, fruit, orange juice. |
 |
| For reference, here is a similar breakfast I had just the day before at our hotel in Reykjavik. Typical European breakfast: healthy and delicious. |
 |
| Bleary-eyed, just getting off the bus. 1 hour before race start. Nervous and anxious at the same time |
 |
| Mulling around before the start. 5 minutes before start of Wave 1. |
 |
| The start line and timing mats were very narrow, causing bottleneck at the start |
 |
| Wave 1 is off. Time to go line up for my wave now. Darn, they're already lined up. Drat. |
The RD announced there would be two slight changes to the course at the very start, both to avoid some issues with heavier snowpack blocking the trail at the start, and the detour would include a narrow crossing on boards over a wet area and then a steep climb. Cowbells signaled our start.
 |
| Start of my wave (Wave 2 of 5) Unfortunately I'm stuck and mired about halfway in this starting group. As post-race I look up the final results of the bib numbers that are visible here on the front row, I can see that I finished well ahead of each of them. In hindsight, I really belonged not on the starting line here, although that would have been a much better position, but somewhere in the first wave. Not being pompous, just factual. (From race FB page) |
This was one of those races where the gun went off (or cowbells in this case) and you can't move because runners are jammed around you. When we did get going it seemed we were only moving for a few seconds when the mass of runners came to a halt again. There was a single-file crossing of a narrow board going across a flooded section of the trail, and I couldn't get around runners blocking the way. This annoyed me. We're going to be going through snow, mud, and rivers - just run through the water! Patience, patience.
After about 1/2 mile, I had sections where I could run and pass runners, but probably for the first three miles there were occasional narrow sections where I could not pass at all and had to have my thin patience try me some more. At the time, I was optimistically trying to tell myself maybe this was saving me from going out too fast, but in retrospect, I just plain lost a lot of time here as I was back with people that were not running my pace.
 |
| One of the detour sections very early in the race where there was just no way that I could pass runners. --- Note: most of the pictures along the course I took myself. I don't usually take photos while racing, but in this case I felt it worthwhile to chronicle a likely once-in-a-lifetime experience. Besides, most of the photos I took I was already stopped for a power hike or people in the way, and the ones on the run I just took several shots while running and kept the best one. With the phone stashed in a front pocket of my vest, I can't imagine that I would have lost more than two minutes tops the whole race. |
 |
| We hit our first snow sections beginning in Mile 2. These are short, but difficult to run in. |
 |
| A couple of miles in. Official race photo (purchased) Note I am one of the few fools in shorts and short-sleeve shirt, but that's how I roll. |
About three miles in, I encountered some sickening sulphur-like smells. Oh, this was the geothermal activity that the RD had warned us about to stay clear of, as the temps in the pools were 90-100°C. We had about 1,500' elevation in the first 10K, but I ran everything except the steepest sections and where runners impeded my way. Over the next couple of miles, we had occasional short sections of snow that we crossed, and I was thinking this wasn't much at all, and maybe the talk about more snow this year than in past several years was hyped up a bit. (I would be wrong.)
 |
| About 3 miles in. Technical uphill climb. This was slow going. |
While I passed many people in the first 10K and stayed ahead of them, there was one guy with long flowing hair that kept passing me back, especially in the usual pattern of me passing him on downhills, only to be re-caught and passed later. I was thrilled to see the Hrafntinnusker Hut aid station (no idea how to pronounce that) pop up in the middle of nowhere, but as it was cold (upper 30s) with the wind blowing and the only thing at this aid station was bananas (which I don't eat) and water, I kept going while my competitor stopped to refuel.
 |
| Hrafntinnusker Hut (10K checkpoint) (Source: https://www.adventure-life.com/iceland/fjallabak-nature-reserve/campsites/hrafntinnusker-hut#overview) |
10K (Hrafntinnusker) to 22K (Alftavatn): Although we had now reached the highest point at the course at about 3,500', and it was largely downhill from here, for the next four miles we would remain above 3,000' for the next four miles, most of which were on snowfields! My competitor chatted with me briefly when he caught back up, noting that based on our bib color (red), we were both in the second wave and had now caught up with many in the first wave (yellow) that had started earlier.
On the first few sections of snow I had run, I had difficulty getting any traction on the worn trail with so many boot and shoe prints, but then watching others I quickly learned it was more efficient to run on the sides of the worn in trail and the snowfields were packed enough that I could run right on top of them. This was a game-changer for me as instead of struggling to keep with other runners and feeling awkward, I was able to now run more comfortably and pass a number of runners.
 |
| We ran for several miles on these snowfields. Sometimes you had a cairn or flags to guide you. |
 |
| And then other times it just seemed we were running in the middle of nowhere, with snowfields as far as you could see in every direction, and nothing else. |
The fog was really socked in up here, the wind howling, and the heavy mist had absolutely soaked me. I was feeling really cold. I realized just how cold my fingers were when I went to take my 2nd gel 1.5 hours into the race and I struggled to squeeze the gel out. I contemplated pulling over to take my jacket and gloves out of my pack. I also needed to pee badly, but it's not like there are any trees I can duck behind. But I was about 17K in now, and I remembered the weather forecast sent from the race organization saying to expect a significant improvement in weather from Alftavatn on, so I figured I'd hold on for another 5K and see how it went.
Sure enough, in the next three miles to the Alftavatn aid station, we dropped about 1,500 feet, the temperature rose (maybe all the way up to 50°F?) and the mist went away. There were some very steep scree downhill sections, but I fared well here and even passed quite a few runners, albeit on the ragged edge of control. As we pulled into the aid station, I took my 3rd gel. I was about 2:15 into the race now, and I was religiously taking one every 45 minutes. I got a pretzel, had a volunteer fill up my soft flask, and then I headed straight for the bathrooms. It looks like I lost about a minute and a half here, and I hated coming out of the bathroom seeing runners get back ahead of me, but there was no other choice.
22K (Alftavatn) to 38K (Emstrur): The next aid station would be 16K (10M) away, but this section was quite flat, much of it on packed dirt, and quite runnable. In fact, these would be my fastest miles of the race, with most miles in the 7s and 8s pace.
I felt like things were going along swimmingly here. My running was good. I was feeling good. The scenery was amazing. The sun was even trying to make an appearance, and my wet clothes were slowly but surely drying out.
 |
| Mile 14. Just after the aid station. Bridge looks a little rickety, but I'm careful with my footsteps. |
 |
| Mile 15. The first river to cross without a bridge! Look at the size of the packs this group is carrying. They are some of the many through hikers on the Laugavegur Trail that we will encounter. Most of the hikers will take 4 days to traverse the 55K we are running today, and will overnight in huts along the way, which also serve as today's aid stations. This river was pretty shallow, and I crossed by running to the left of these hikers, to much applause from the folks waiting on the other side of the river. |
 |
| Mile 17. Another fast moving river. We run through another wide but shallow river, and on the other side is the midpoint of the race, where you could have opted to drop a bag for a dry change of clothing and then have that bag sent on to Reykjavik. I opted not to take that option and add yet more time to my race. I come through the midpoint (Bláfjallakvísl) timing mats in 2:47:55. |
 |
| Mile 20. Two guys from Garmin Iceland were way out here in the middle of nowhere, blasting music and encouraging runners as we ran under their inflatable. Pretty cool and motivating. |
 |
| Mile 21. The outer-worldly scenery keeps my mind busy as the miles pile on. If you look closely, you can see the pole marking the trail, and two runners far up ahead of me to upper left. |
I'm feeling good running, but am getting quite hungry now and once again have to pee. What is going on? I ran through the Philadelphia Marathon last fall with no urge or need to stop, but that clearly is not the case today. There is about a 300' drop as I come into Emstrur aid station at 3:45. I passed several more runners in the downhill and one says to me that he really likes my pace. I said, "Thanks, but I don't know how much longer I can keep it.". I just jinxed myself.
 |
| Mile 23. When have you ever run a trail race with scenery like this? I sure hadn't. |
I eat several chunks of chocolate candy, a pretzel, and then ask for and consume more chocolate, before continuing on to the next table where a volunteer fills my soft flask for me. After that, I ask another volunteer where the bathroom is, and he holds out a plastic garbage for me. Hmmm. I repeat "bathroom" and then he gets it and points me in the right direction. This time I have lost two minutes between food and fluid replenishment and bathroom stop. Ugh.
38K (Emstrur) to Finish (Þórsmörk): I had no choice but to stop and refuel and use the facilities at the last pit stop, but it has cost me. Not only have many passed me during my stop, but after coming to a full stop at 38K (Mile 23), it is so hard for me to get going again. I am running again, but at a snail's pace, people are passing me left and right, and I'm getting frustrated and entertaining lots of negative thoughts. I still have another ten full miles to go. Can I even complete this? I tell myself to just keep running, remind myself I've come all the way here to run this race, and instead of the miles left, I start thinking about the percentage of the race completed. All games just to keep my mind off negative thoughts and let the time and miles pass.
 |
| Mile 24. Downhill to the bridge crossing the chasm, then left up against the cliff face, before a steep climb up and back along the top of the ridge in front of me. I am getting really tired, but again, the views do not disappoint. |
 |
| Mile 25. More hills to climb, and more amazing views. You can see a glacier here at about 11 o'clock in picture. |
About Mile 29, I get a bit of a second wind. Not sure if it's the chocolates from the last station now giving me energy or what the cause, but I'll take it! I'm feeling better, and am able to pick up my pace and start passing runners who passed me the last few miles. Mile 31 is slower, but that's largely due to a 250' climb. The hills are tough at this stage and I power hike much of the hill. At the top of the hill, I can see the landmark I've been longing for: the River Þröngá. This is touted as the final and toughest river crossing, and this signals we're getting close to the finish!
 |
| Picking my way over the rocks ... (Official race photographer photos - purchased) |
 |
| ... and down to the river. I bypass the rope and go to the right of the rope and the official. --- Note I'm actually five minutes ahead of the two runners in black behind me, as I'm in Wave 2 (red bib) and they're in Wave 1 (yellow bibs) |
 |
| Whoa! Slid on some rocks I can't see and almost went down. Maybe I should use that rope after all? |
 |
| Nah. I just needed to be a little more deliberate in my subsequent footfalls, and trucked on. This was so cool! Literally and figuratively, of course. |
That river is cold! Exiting the river, there is a sign indicating 2.8K to the finish. OK, I can hold on for that. Interestingly, we now enter a wooded section of trail for the first time on the entire course. Most of Iceland is barren of trees, but I later learn that this section was reforested a few decades ago and native birch now thrive here. There are a couple of hills ranging from 50' to 100' in elevation gain, but as much as any hill now hurts, my excitement for the finish is greater and I run up all the hills. There are a few spectators out along the course in the final mile and they are enthusiastically cheering the runners on. Some cheers in English, some in Icelandic that I can't understand, but they're all motivating just the same.
 |
| Mile 33. So close. Keep moving. Almost there! (Race photo) |
The final mile is downhill with a few twists through the woods before dropping us out onto a field where I can see the finish line and tents. I cross the finish line and am handed my finisher's metal as I see Jana and Matthew at the roped off area. Finished! Success!
.JPG) |
| I pass Matthew (in black, videotaping), and get my hand out to oblige every Icelandic kid that I can with a high five. (Picture by Jana) |
.JPG) |
| Just before the finish line (Pic by Jana) |
 |
| 55K! (Race photo) |
.JPG) |
| Done! (pic by Jana) |
Final results: 5:31:49. 28th out of 527 finishers. 4th of 88 in age group. Full results here.
I had plate after plate of fruits and chocolates, before finally going to get my bag sent from the starting line to get some clean and dry clothes and shower. Jana had already checked us in to our room at the Volcano Huts so I was able to relax and recover a bit before getting dinner.
Some follow-up reflections, writing this now almost two weeks post-race:
What went well:
- Race communications. From the moment I submitted my entry back in November of last year until the race day itself (and even a few days afterwards), I received numerous e-mails with clear communications on details of the race, upcoming plans, training and equipment reminders, etc. The two times that I had questions, I e-mailed and got prompt responses.
- Organization. From the race website with detailed maps, photos, schedules, to the race day logistics themselves, this organization is top-notch!
- The course: Incredible scenery, diverse and ever-changing conditions. Snowfields, mountains, rock scree, cold river crossings, this course had it all. You certainly won't get bored on this course!
- Aid stations: This was a saving grace for me. You knew when they were coming up, and what they would have in advance. Friendly volunteers and well-stocked clean stations.
- My pacing: Even when I was frustrated in the early miles that I was so far back and hemmed in at times, I still resisted the urge to overcompensate and run faster than I should have. I had fears that the final miles would be a death march, but it wasn't and I think I balanced it well.
- Learning from others: The snowfields and my approach to running them is the best example. I was really struggling in the established footpath with the boot prints, but once I saw some runners bypassing the established trails and running parallel to them instead, this became my new approach and saved me so much time and aggravation as I passed many here.
- Enjoying the course: In short races, I often won't even look up to see the scenery or the spectators, even if they call my name, as I'm so focused. But in this race, I just took it all in. And there was a lot to take in: snowfields, panoramic mountain views that wouldn't quit, raging rivers, and all around beautiful idyllic scenery.
What could have gone better:
- My seeding. This was my biggest mistake, and one that caused me the most frustration and time loss, and it's all on me. It was two-fold: 1) initial seeding. I was way off in 6:15:00, as I finished in 5:31:49. I actually did some research on this, but clearly not enough. In hindsight, this is what ended up putting me in Wave 2 instead of Wave 1. What does it matter, as it's all chip timing? Because A) it's more efficient and motivating to run with people your own speed, and B) you expend less energy if you don't have to pass so many people in tight spaces. 2) self-seeding (or lining up) within Wave 2 itself. Because I was out watching the start of Wave 1, as Wave 1 left, my competitors in Wave 2 were lining up, and I now I was stuck in the middle of that wave. So, with about 130 runners per wave, for the guy who finished 28th overall, I started somewhere in about 200th place. Not good.
- My confidence. I guess confidence comes with experience, and I just don't have any experience in mountain wilderness ultramarathons, let alone in a foreign country. At any rate, I was just a nervous wreck in the hour before the race start as I just constantly reassessed and questioned just about everything, from race attire to what to put in my pack to race strategy itself.
- Miles 24 - 28. The lowest spot of the race for me. I have the endurance, as I picked it up from Mile 29 and finished strong, but I was feeling weak and very self-doubting about the rest of my race here. I had taken GU gels every 45 minutes according to the script. My only guess (and I welcome any input) is that I need to eat more for some high calorie-burning adventures such as this and I should have taken more to eat at the earlier checkpoints (at checkpoint 1, I took nothing, at checkpoint 2, I took a single pretzel). I did eat a lot more at checkpoint 3, but that took a bit to catch up.
The only other person I personally know that has run this race is Adrian Massie. Adrian had mentioned "The Laugavegur run is still my #1 running experience to date.". I would second that for sure. Just an absolutely amazing race! I am so thrilled that I ran this, and enjoyed it thoroughly.
 |
| I earned this for sure! |
.JPG) |
| More chocolate, please! |
.jpg)
