After a DNF in 2024 and an immediate visit to a local witch store to redeem myself to Santa Muerte, I was eager to return to Puerto Vallarta Mexico by UTMB and finish the 100k. Unfortunately, in the days and weeks leading up to the race in early February, the small coastal city was shaken by cartel violence. What started with burning cars and roadblocks following the reported killing of a major criminal figure quickly escalated into deadly shootouts with police and a heavy military response, turning a postcard destination into a war zone, with Black Hawk helicopters overhead and armored Humvees in the streets.
Before the race organizers postponed the event, I told my wife that Mexican drug cartels were not to be compared with terror groups: their business is money, not killing sprees. My line was simple, civilians killed in the streets and kidnapped tourists. That never happened.
I wanted to go, push my fear threshold and see what was on the other side. I had been in Iraq and Afghanistan. Hell, I figured I could handle a few vengeful narcos, amped on adrenaline and eager to make a point. I speak Spanish, for Christ’s sake.
At this point, you may think I was way over my head. You may be right. But to me, there was only one way to find out. Travel to Puerto Vallarta and deal with it on the ground.
Fortunately, I did not have to put my stupid reasoning to the test. The local organizers decided a few days later to postpone the event to mid-April, reduce the distance and move the start to the night so we could better deal with the heat and humidity. At first, I thought it was a chicken move, but once I reached town, I realized how little I knew about the unholy marriage of Mexican heat and humidity. I will say it once: this race is for experienced runners only.
On top of that, they added serious climbs and treacherous descents where roots, sand and gravel both trick and trip you. I fell four times, and to this day, my butt carries the scar to prove it. After running 51.75 miles and 17,283 feet of elevation gain later, in 19 hours and 59 minutes, I crossed the finish line in time and was relieved they had cut us short by 10.3 miles. Honestly, I was ready for war, but I was not prepared for this kind of spicy pounding.
So, yes, this is an amazing event. Yes, this is a huge fiesta, and this town is muy bueno (very good). But this is not the kind of 100k you can tackle nonchalantly. Here are my key lessons.
The Trip & Where to Stay
Puerto Vallarta has a very good airport, with direct flights to many US cities. Once in town, my advice is to stay in Zona Romántica. It is central, within walking distance of the expo and the start and finish line, super laid back, very friendly, safe, colorful and everyone speaks English. There are plenty of friendly cafes and restaurants, often open late into the night. I stayed at Hotel Tropicana on Playa Los Muertos and the location was excellent.
My best local spots for food
One of the best bakeries in town is Eulo’s Bakery. It opens at 7 a.m. and closes at 10 p.m. It is fresh, gargantuan, and, well, dangerous. Don’t do what I did: go after the race, not every morning before.
There are many cute and friendly cafe places, but two of my favorite are A Page in the Sun, where you can sit and read a book right on Parque Lázaro Cárdenas, and, a little farther north by Plaza de Armas and the beautiful Parroquia de Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe with its Renaissance-style tower, a smaller place with succulent banana bread called Ana Banana Bakery and Coffee.
For a fresh smoothie made with tropical fruit, go to Ono Smoothie Bowls & Cafe.
For lunch and dinner, Tacos Sonorita Olas Altas, which specializes in tacos al pastor (pork), is perfect if you’re starving. Portions are huge. Margarita Grill is the spot to go to if you’re a night owl and want healthy chicken fajitas with tableside guacamole.
The Puerto Vallarta Mexico 100k course includes jungle terrain and 17,000 feet of elevation gain. Photo courtesy UTMB
The Race Course
Race it without trekking poles if you are not 100% comfortable with them on descents. They will help on the climbs, but those single-track trails are treacherous, and it is very easy to jam a pole between rocks or roots and let your body weight do the rest. You will break them—not your bones, the poles.
That being said, this course is a bone crusher too. With a midnight start and a long night on your feet, this terrain quickly becomes dangerous. Sorry, race organizers, I have no other words. Many of us fell, and at one point I had to grab a hanging liana after a faceplant so I would not slide off the trail and end up 6 feet below in a tarantula nest or a viper pit.
I got so tired during the race that I started hallucinating. I saw a guy in the middle of the trail, waving his red arm like he was guiding a landing plane, when it was really just a strip of course marking tape. I also saw a huge cow sculpture and its calf that turned out to be nothing more than a hill. Even when I’m breaking down like this, I can still tell the difference between a relatively smooth downhill and a truly technical one that wants only one thing: to trick my feet. Those trails were cursed.
The other main threat is the humidity. I was constantly thirsty, and it became an exhausting mind game to stay on top of hydration and resist the urge to drink nonstop, which, as you know, will bloat your stomach and leave you with no way back. I never did. I was on the verge of vomiting for a good 10 hours straight. I even took a nap. Hence the 19-hour and 59-minute finish time.
Last but not least, the mosquitos, or whatever kept biting my hips in the forest, are not friendly. They are hungry little vampires of the worst kind, and they are hard to fight. Under those jungle conditions, we all sweat so much that no regular mosquito repellent lasts long enough. Next time, I will buy the strongest tropical jungle repellent I can find back in the US. Bottom line: cover yourself with long sleeves, baggy shorts Dauwalter-style, and compression calf sleeves like the best European trail runners. That is your absolute best self-defense.
Should you do it?
Definitely, yes. And for the following reasons. First, because Mexico can be such an amazing, peaceful place, culturally and historically rich, with a natural environment that offers preserved trail running terrain. Second, because I have known the people behind this organization for three years now. The main boss, Alejandro Ochoa, is the brother of Lorena Ochoa, one of the greatest golfers in LPGA history. He is solid and trustworthy, now living in Annecy, France, with his family, traveling back and forth and working relentlessly to make this race one of the best in Latin America. Third, because this is a super difficult race with a lot of elevation, and we, as a tribe, like the best challenges.
The cartel episode is dark, yes, and it is a reminder of one of the many realities of the country. Like the mafia in Italy, where I lived for four years, it is deeply rooted in parts of society, possibly even at the highest levels of government, but it is also something you can largely avoid as a visitor. I have been to Puerto Vallarta three times over the past two years, and each time it pulled me back in. It grew on me. Every trip made me want to return even more.