Post-mortem Transvulcania: Tactical Lessons
Introduction: what I learned about Transvulcania nutrition running on lava
Transvulcania nutrition is not just a matter of gels, salts, and aid stations. In this race, fueling properly can be the difference between finishing strong or crawling through the volcanic lands of La Palma. Now that a few days have passed since I crossed the finish line, I’m still digesting — both literally and emotionally — everything I experienced.
For that reason, I wanted to write this article as a tactical debrief and an honest guide for those preparing to face this beast of an ultra-distance race. I’m not here to give you generic advice — I want to tell you what I did right, what mistakes I made, and what I would do exactly the same when it comes to nutrition on volcanic terrain.
Because yes: fueling in Transvulcania is a technical, thermal, and mental challenge that very few explain properly.
First kilometers: the trap of enthusiasm
When I set off from the Fuencaliente lighthouse, my body felt fresh and my morale was sky-high. Even though I knew what was coming, nerves made me commit the first nutritional mistake: waiting too long to eat something. My stomach was tight and I felt full of energy, so I decided not to push it.
However, what might work in other races costs you dearly here. The initial climb, long and on a constantly rising slope of loose volcanic gravel, increases energy expenditure much earlier than you’d think. On top of that, the sun reflecting off the black terrain starts heating your body very early on. As a result, I reached the first aid station feeling far more depleted than I’d like to admit.
So, if I run Transvulcania again, I’ll force myself to eat at 30 minutes in — no excuses. I no longer trust the “I feel fine, I’ll hold off a bit longer” approach.
Hydration: not too much water, not too little salt
As the sun rose and the humidity vanished, electrolyte loss accelerated rapidly. In such a dry and hot environment, sweat evaporates before you even notice, which can lead to silent dehydration.
Throughout the first stretch up to El Pilar, I drank regularly, although I made the mistake of not supplementing with enough salts. I used isotonic drinks, yes, but I didn’t calculate the concentration properly nor adjust according to the temperature. Consequently, I started feeling light cramps on the climb to El Reventón. It wasn’t incapacitating pain, but it was a clear sign that something was off.
This experience showed me how unforgiving the nutrition Transvulcania equation can be if you misjudge your electrolyte strategy. Since then, I’ve learned to take one salt capsule every 45 minutes, always accompanied by clean water. I also rotated flavors (citrus, cola, neutral), because one of the biggest enemies in Transvulcania is flavor fatigue. When you can’t stand the taste of your drink anymore, you stop drinking. And when you stop drinking, things start falling apart.
Carbohydrates on volcanic ground: how and when they work
In the central section of the course, between El Reventón and Roque de los Muchachos, the terrain is so demanding that your body burns through glycogen at a brutal rate. Every step on soft volcanic gravel feels twice as hard, and if you’re above 2,000 meters, metabolism goes into overdrive without warning.
This is where the Transvulcania nutrition is tested. Personally, I alternated liquid gels with salty snacks like boiled potatoes or dates with salt, which worked reasonably well. However, I made one big mistake: I stopped chewing solids too soon.
After kilometer 50, I switched to just gels and drinks, because my stomach wouldn’t tolerate solids. But doing so led to a steady decline in performance and a constant sense of digestive emptiness. Next time, I’ll include mid-texture products: gummies, fruit purées, soft bars with neutral flavors.
Additionally, using different types of sugars (glucose, maltodextrin, and fructose) helped prevent energy spikes followed by crashes. The key, I discovered, is not overwhelming your system with just one fuel type.
The hidden enemy: heat rising from the ground
One thing I didn’t anticipate well was the heat that radiates from the volcanic terrain, especially around midday in exposed sections. Even though the ambient air didn’t feel suffocating, my shoes got so hot that the soles of my feet were burning.
That heat — invisible yet constant — impacts digestion more than you’d think. Blood is redirected to your muscles, your stomach slows down, and fluids aren’t absorbed properly anymore.
As a result, I began feeling bloated, retaining water, and struggling to swallow. I had to slow down, hydrate with very cold water, and avoid concentrated sugars for about an hour so my body could reset.
So, if someone asks me now how to handle it, I’d say: use split doses of salts, drink less but more frequently, and avoid any warm drinks after 11 a.m. And if possible, cool your head at every fountain.
Aid stations: not improvising means saving time and energy
Aid stations in Transvulcania are well spaced, but not all offer the same options. Some have fruit, others soup, and a few include salty snacks. So my clearest tactical advice regarding Transvulcania nutrition is: study the race plan and assign a specific goal to each station.
For instance:
El Pilar: eat solids, refill water, adjust poles
Reventón: take salt, add a gel, and cool down
Roque de los Muchachos: eat something warm, rest five minutes, and reassess what’s left
In my case, I didn’t plan with that level of detail, and it cost me precious minutes deciding on the spot what to eat or drink. I learned that every second you stop should be intentional, not accidental.
Also, bringing my own emergency stash — salty crackers, ginger capsules, and fruit purée pouches — was a lifesaver I’ll definitely repeat.
Cold mind, warm stomach
One of the biggest lessons I took from this race is that digestion is emotional. When you’re too hyped, you eat wrong. When you’re scared, you overeat. And when you’re blocked, you don’t eat at all.
That’s why I stuck to one rule for the second half of the race: every hour, at least 150 kcal and 400 ml of liquid — even if just sipped. It wasn’t always easy, but it helped me avoid major crashes.
I also realized that mental lows often came after a drop in glucose. When I started feeling down or apathetic, I’d eat something quickly — a gummy, a sip of isotonic drink, or half a bar — and my brain would light up like someone flipped a switch.
Conclusion
Transvulcania nutrition is an art you learn through suffering — but you improve it by sharing. That’s why I’m leaving here a practical summary of what worked and what didn’t:
What I’ll repeat:
Split salt doses from the first kilometer
Liquid gels with mixed sugars
Alternating textures and flavors from the start
Eating even without hunger every 30–45 minutes
What I’ll avoid:
Waiting until the first aid station to eat
Relying on heavy solids mid-race
Using only isotonic without clean water
Improvising at aid stations without a plan
In the end, running Transvulcania was a wild adventure. I did it with respect, suffered with dignity, and finished with a smile smeared in volcanic ash. And between every bite, every sip, and every mistake, I learned that nutrition isn’t optional in an ultra — it’s your lifeline.
