2. 10. 2024
You might already know our Hannah ambassador Honza Tandler, aka Tandlis, from the spring article "Tandlis’s Notes from Manaslu." We wanted to remind you about Honza this fall, so towards the end of summer, we kept asking him—maybe too frequently—about his next ultratrail challenge. Eventually, it happened. As usual, Tandlis remained mysterious until the last moment. Only the day before the race did he inform us that he would be running the Julian Alps Trail ultramarathon the following day and, by the way, that he hadn’t really trained for it! He finished 7th in his category… that was apparently called “Last years without a walker” (his own quote).
At six in the morning, Lake Bled is usually quite peaceful, even in the summer. But this time, it seemed like a big group of weird people had gathered to watch the romantic sunrise while stretching their limbs, eating bananas and/or colorful gels, constantly checking their watches, and wearing what was clearly a survival backpack. Last Saturday, this very group, numbering more than 430, set off on the 80-kilometer Julian Alps Trail Run towards Kranjska Gora. Among them, with a watch, a backpack, and a banana in my stomach, was me.
"Don’t stick with the elites from the start!!! You’ll burn out your diesel!!!"
After the starting shot, the old man's wisdom kicked in, as I kept telling myself: "Don’t stick with the elites from the start!!! You’ll burn out your diesel!!!" Or maybe I just couldn’t keep up with their pace. Either way, it paid off. We covered the first 20 kilometers in our group in less than two hours, despite the slight undulation, and I felt fine. But I realized that this route looked like the longest SkyRace I had ever run. The first quarter consisted of just small hills for warming up, then we had to tackle a big climb for most of the promised 3,000 meters of elevation gain, and the last 17 kilometers to the finish were “almost” flat.
And that’s pretty much how it was. After the initial 20 kilometers, it was all either uphill or downhill.
And what else? In short: roots, mud, a bit of snow, frenzied bees, more mud, gravel… But also breathtaking views of the Julian Alps on the border between Slovenia and Austria, lots of enthusiastic supporters at the aid stations, and many fellow runners battling their bodies just like I was, but still always managing to smile or support each other.
I must say, I hadn’t enjoyed running for the first 60 kilometers this much in a long time. My mind was set from my recent Krkonoše run, and it worked like a charm. I didn’t even have to use my usual mental technique of calculating running stats. That trick works simply— the worse you feel running, the longer it takes to calculate anything, and the longer you forget that you’re actually running. But eventually, I couldn’t avoid it.
The last section of the route started with several kilometers on an asphalt bike path. For me, that was giving "The Sorrows of Young Werther". That level of suffering. Call me crazy, but in the end, what saved me from shuffling myself to death was a hill!
Out of nowhere, after the final aid station, we were sent up the last 200 meters of elevation. Thank goodness! The final run into Kranjska Gora felt like a reward. An amazing crowd at the finish line, seventh place in my category, telling my legs: "We’re done for today," dinner, and then crashing into a deep sleep...
Slovenia was beautiful again, even though it hurt. Maybe next time, Triglav...
T.
