2024 Bali Hope Ultra

Embarking on a journey to run an ultra marathon can seem inconceivable to most people. So if you came to get an insider view of what it’s like, you’ve come to the right place.

On 25/26 May 2024, I took on the Bali Hope Ultra (BHU), a mountainous road spanning 84 km from coast to coast in Bali through the middle of the night.

It was more than a race, particularly because the BHU helps raise money for the Bali Children’s Foundation. As a collective, all of the runners involved managed to raise $160,000 for the children of the local Balinese community.

This race was a special one for me. It came with its fair share of trials and tribulations, and was one of my most significant achievements in running to date. Something that will be etched in my memory forever.

Let me take you through my experience.

Blessed, dressed and slightly distressed.

After a hectic week of travel, community engagement, and getting to know the other racers, race day arrived. I woke up at 4am and did my usual morning walk and mobility.

During my morning walk I tried to bring my focus and attention to the race, but as the morning progressed, I started to feel feverish and run down.

“Here we go…”

With a 9:30pm race start, it was a long day ahead. I typically start most of my runs before 4am within a couple of hours of waking up, so the extended wait was stressful.

I did my best to savour the day as Christina (my wife) and I set out for a sunrise dolphin cruise with our captain, Ketut.

Hoping the cruise would help me feel better, I began to feel even more run down, and so we got Ketut to turn the boat around and head back to shore to continue race preparations.

The rest of the morning was spent having a moderate breakfast of toast, eggs, cereal and fruit. I then quadruple checked my race gear and packed my bags before meeting with the other runners by the pool.

We headed to lunch together before heading for final race preparations. By this point, I had seen the medical team to try and relieve the cold symptoms, but as the afternoon wore on, I wore down.

At 3:30pm, we were dressed in sarongs and headed to the temple where we were guided through some prayers and rituals. I felt an immense connection to the ceremony which began to raise my spirits.

Then as they gifted us bracelets that had been blessed, the woman acknowledged my tattoo of my late dad. An intense wave of emotion came over me and I felt his presence from that moment on.

All of a sudden I was brought back to life, and I felt an unwavering sense of focus and peace.

We headed back to the communal rooms for final preparations. I had my final meal and offered help and support to other runners where I could. With my gear checked, and nutrition packed, the energy began to shift.

The music was on. The Big Dogs started to growl. The energy was electric.

It was a room full of warriors preparing for battle. Not against each other, but with each other. The enemy? An 85 km trail across Bali from Lovina Beach to Canggu.

The final 30 minutes consisted of warm-ups, hugs and words of support.

I knelt under the start banner and set my mind to a state of unbreakable focus.

It was time to race.

See you in Canggu mate

The last words I heard as I took off hard and opened up a gap early. My legs didn't feel great, and I struggled to find rhythm as I fiddled with my gear.

In my distracted state, I forgot rule #1: Watch your step, as I stepped in a pothole and rolled my ankle.

If that wasn’t bad enough, I went on to break rule #2: Stay composed, as I stepped in another pothole immediately after, rolling the same ankle.

My right foot went completely numb as I began to run with a big ‘ol limp. I could no longer run on my forefoot and my only option was heel striking…

…at the base of the 1500m vertical climb that would last for the next 20 km.

Brilliant.

I knew the other runners would be hot on my heels, so I fought and toiled through the gruelling climb as hard as I could.

I was hands on knees power hiking the steepest sections and full-blown sprinting anything that felt runnable in my given state.

At temperatures hovering at 30 degrees and almost 100% humidity, I was quickly battling dehydration. In an attempt to aid the rolled ankle, I took anti-inflams from the medical team, only to receive a stomach ache.

The climb was a series of dark winding roads with vehicles coming from all directions and dogs chasing after me, nipping at my heels.

My mind entered a dark place, as I began to think that my goals and aspirations had been spoiled by a sprained ankle, the finish line feeling further than ever.

Get up the fucking hill Daniel!

Christina was waiting for me at the 10km checkpoint and I was spurred to keep going.

She yelled what she knew I needed to hear, which was a clear and simple message,

“Get up the fucking hill Daniel!”

I was reminded of the agreement I made with myself before the race. No matter how much I wanted to quit, I would give it everything I could until the top of the hill, then figure it out from there.

For the next 10km, I ignored the ankle, told the crew to slap me if I even mentioned it, and I focused on getting to the top of the hill.

Despite looking like a zombie as I marched up that never-ending climb, I made it to the top in record time.

It's all downhill from here.

After a few kms of relatively flat running across the top of the mountain, the temperature started to cool, a mist had formed, and some light rain had started to fall.

I was directed to turn right, thus beginning the long descent to Canggu.

It began with a thrilling, steep section of dark and winding road down to a long sweeping bend around a lake.

Then, I threw out the brake pedal and let gravity take the wheel as I flew down the mountain. With screams of joy and battle cries, I went so fast that even the crew bikes struggled to keep up. This was undoubtedly my favourite part of the course.

However, after about 10 km, the lagging effect of the climb started to take its toll on my quads, especially the left which had been compensating for my sprained ankle. The pain was unbearable.

Things got dark… real dark.

I started looking for a way out.

I contemplated hitting myself in the head with a rock and lying down in the gutter. I played the scene in my head, of me acting out the fake concussion and uttering words of disappointment as the race officials transported me to the finish line.

I was so desperate for relief, I wanted to end the suffering.

I spent over an hour wrestling with demons, my self-talk brutal and my self-confidence left behind.

But through all of this, I did not stop running. On the brink of quitting, the halfway checkpoint at 42 km arrived.

A pleasant surprise and the mental boost I needed to keep going.

I went through the checkpoint without stopping, leaving with a cheer from the crew, a cheese toasty, and a renewed sense of hope.

I had survived the depths and could see my way out of the hole.

My self-talk had flipped as I muttered under my breath,

"I can do this. Let’s go experience glory.”

I've got a record to break.

Despite my early difficulties, I knew I was still on track for a course record. So I went for it and gave it everything I had.

From the moment I reached the top of the hill until the finish line, I did not walk a single step or stop at any aid stations, thanks to the amazing work of the crew who were able to keep my water and nutrition needs met during the run (although I personally struggled to get enough in).

There were more barking dogs, more traffic, and more stomach issues (I managed to shit myself 3 times).

My legs were hurting, my ankle was screaming, and I became frustrated as I started making small navigation errors.

Then came magical moments that pulled me through, like the long stretch through a village where a group of 8 kids started running alongside me in their thongs as we all yelled with laughter.

It's hard to put into words how amazing this was, but I am so grateful for what they offered me.

At this point I was running as hard as I could, and with 12 km to go, race director Tom was guiding me through the streets of Canggu, and I remember saying to him:

"Let's do something special, I've got a record to break."

After dodging a few partygoers leaving the club, putting fate in charge as I ran across busy roads, I was on the home stretch.

All that pain and suffering suddenly vanished as I caught a glimpse of the finish line, followed by a wave of loud cheers and the sight of my incredible wife among the crowd. With my arms out wide, I sprinted through the finish line and fell flat on my face.

My legs gave out as I had nothing left to give. A moment I will never forget.

I was freed from the self-imposed shackles of doubt as I had just proven to myself that I could push way beyond what I thought I was capable of.

With a record time of 7 hours, 21 minutes and 47 seconds, I won the race.

Mr. Brightside

I entered this race low on confidence and worse for wear, and I left a champion.

As I reflect on the race, what carried me through on an individual level was the consistent and evolving training schedule I had put myself through over many years, which culminated in a 20 week preparation phase leading up to the race.

I have tested myself across a range of different running environments, where I had already pushed my limits, and had already spread the boundaries as far as I could with the tools and knowledge at my disposal.

It was meticulously planned, I showed up every day, and I had already conquered many of those demons I encountered in the BHU.

The external elements which you yearn for as a runner, and which I was fortunate enough to have, was the massive support from the BHU crew and staff, the ongoing messages of support from friends and family, the unwavering generosity of my beautiful wife Christina, and the spirit of my dad who was there with me every step of the way. My heartfelt gratitude goes out to every single one of you.

As I look forward, I take with me a renewed vigour for running, and I will continue to strive for greater physical endurance and mental fortitude.

For the physical, I am excited to adjust and refine my training to squeeze out even more from this body. One of the big lessons this race has taught me is the importance of preparing for hill runs (I will actually be doing these now), and to remain composed when obstacles inevitably come my way. Among other things, I will focus on these attributes of my physical training, to strengthen my weaknesses, and continue to demonstrate higher performance ultra running.

For the mental, I will expose myself to more challenges and test my resolve as I carry with me a new-found confidence in my capability. Through continual introspection, I will expand my capacity and continue to demonstrate the values I work so hard to live by - persistence and a willingness to show up, day in, and day out, whether I feel like it or not.

Through my experience, I hope to inspire you to do the same - to give everything of yourself in whatever you do.

That is the part which is rooted in my purpose and value, as an athlete, as a coach, and as a human being.

Stay tuned for what comes next, as I prepare for future races and show you how I map out my athletic goals.

And if this is something you would like help with, you can get in touch with me.

Yours in running and life,

Daniel Lucchini