Made it to the White Continent Yesterday......

.......at supper Tuesday night we were told there appeared to be a break in the weather for early Wednesday morning so we boarded our bus at 1:30 am for a trip to the airport where we left at 3:00 am with the understanding we could get there and might have to turn around and return without landing.  Basically it was our last chance this week.

We boarded Antarctic Air at Punta Arenas in the dark.....

It was about a two hour flight over there and was beginning to get daylight as we approached and the limited views were almost like viewing an alien moonscape or something.....

There was a cheer when the plane actually landed at the Chilean research base runway and taxied to a stop.  It was just getting light when we got off the plane and there was still a full moon above.

We were told it was 28 degrees F when we arrived and there was, in fact, ice crusted on the puddles of water.  As the sun came up in the east, the full moon began to set in the west and created some nice photos:

The sunrise also created some nice views:

We ran along the coast of King George Island Bay.....

But while the scenery was breathtaking, the trail itself was very, very difficult.  Doing the half-marathon, I did three "out and backs" to a turn-around while the marathoners did six.

Early in the morning, when it was still below freezing, the muddy trail was actually very easy to run on and, as the sun rose, it was ideal in places.  For me, as a flatlander Texan, the elevation seemed much more pronounced than I was expecting. 

While we didn’t have snow, the trail--which was actually a road--twisted through several snow banks and at times the road consisted of loose rock.  Usually the rocks were golf ball to baseball-sized and, being loose, they tended to roll under our shoes.  The saving feature was that they were rounded without sharp edges.  It was basically going downhill out and uphill returning.

We did have a couple of places where we ran across some snow bank and the road also had a couple of streams which were, in the beginning, crusted over with ice but soon became slushy.

As the morning warmed up, the muddy part of the trail soon became a gumbo that stuck to the shoes and several of the marathoners stated later that they considered the trail to be pretty strenuous.

We were told to dress for the race before getting on the plane in Punta Arenas since time was going to be critical once we got to Antarctica.  Again, being from Texas, I wasn’t really equipped for this but Devin got me a pair of Gore running pants and a UA running stocking cap.  I dressed that morning with wind briefs, running tights and the Gore windproof pants.  I had previously bought a UnderArmor cold gear compression shirt that does an amazing job of retaining body heat and I wore that as a top with my Dynamo waterproof lightweight jacket.  I ordered a pair of “sniper mittens” on the Internet—wool gloves with the fingers cut off at the knuckles and a mitten “hood” that folded over the exposed fingers. I figured that would allow me to keep my hands warm but still allow me to use my camera with the gloves on.

On the first of my three “out and backs,” I felt perfectly comfortable.  Somebody said the temperature was 28 degrees with only a slight wind.  The sun came up very quickly over the bay and there was a noticeable increase in the temperatures to the point that when I returned the first time, my stocking cap was saturated with sweat and I removed the gloves completely.  Several others actually pulled off their pants and continued in running shorts.  I felt pretty good the first loop, running downhill and walking uphill.  I had no soreness from the half-marathon the previous day and felt I was making good progress although my time was slow because of the terrain.  Following Devin’s advice, I drank lots of water and snacked on some trail mix before heading out for the second loop.

By now, the sun was well into the sky and it was so beautiful we all wondered why scheduling a flight here had been so difficult.  I later heard that it got as high as 39 degrees this morning.  The sky was light blue with only a few clouds.  I wasn’t experiencing soreness from the day before, but very soon into the second lap I felt fatigue set into my legs.  As I made the turnaround, I realized that the sky was quickly clouding over and the temperature didn’t feel as warm.  The uphill climb back to the start point really began punishing my legs but I made it ok and took another water and snack break before doing the third, and final loop.  I briefly considered putting the mittens and cap back on but decided against it—which would prove to be a mistake.

As the third loop began, I was basically walking and my legs were definitely fatigued.  I still   thought I did ok on the downhill route out but I did realize I was starting to get cold.  At the turn-around, I realized the sky had become overcast and the trip back up the hill was miserable.  Other runners, even the elite runners, were also starting to struggle.  The wind started becoming a major factor.

 By the time I reached the finish line, I was wobbling and my hands were so cold I couldn’t even unzip my jacket.  The first thing I noticed as I approached was that our start/finish line sign had been taken down.  I finished, received my race medal (which was in a Ziploc bag I couldn’t open because my fingers were so stiff), and the race director told me to get my stuff and head back to the plane.  When I looked out over the bay, there was literally a wall of fog moving our direction.  

The pilot had basically said he was leaving within an hour.

I was so cold that I took no more photographs but had someone else take some pictures of me at the finish line.  My hands were so cold that I could pull the mittens on but not adjust the “hood” over my exposed fingers.  I grabbed my backpack and made trek back to the plane which was about another mile walk. 

Most of the marathoners (who were doing six “out and backs”) didn’t get to finish.  As I watched them stagger onto the plane wrapped in blankets and anything else they could find to get warm, we were a dirty, muddy, miserable-looking group but nobody was complaining—we had made it to Antarctica.  One girl was shaking so bad she couldn’t put her own seatbelt on.  As the last person got on, they closed the door and the pilot was taxiing for takeoff before they were even seated.

As soon as we got back to the hotel, they set the race course back up from the day before and allowed the marathoners to finish their 26.2 miles to qualify for their medals.  Since most of us were Seven Continent Club members, it also allowed them to claim Antarctica.  Over half of their race had been run on Antarctica, the event was cancelled due to weather, and I understand the race director can designate an alternative finish.

One guy, Eddie from the Philippines, attempted to run the Antarctica marathon barefoot.  Poor decision.   By the end of his second loop, blood was noticeable at places on the trail and he eventually had his feet wrapped and tried to finish wearing shoes.  When the doctor treated his feet in the changing tent, the tarp flooring was covered in blood.

The marathoners who finished the race at Punta Arenas were all finished before supper and we had a celebration.

All but one, that is.  Eddie finished at 10:45 pm and we went out with a bottle of Chilean wine and celebrated one of the guttiest performances I've ever seen.

Here's a passport stamp you don't see too often: