Gels Were Banned: Fueling a Taiwanese 100K on Braised Pork, Pineapple Cake, and Faith

I signed up for the 100K at Taiwan's biggest ultramarathon expecting the usual aid station buffet: gels, chews, flat Coke, maybe some orange slices if the volunteers were feeling generous.

What I got instead was a ladle of braised pork sauce over rice at mile 22.

Nobody warned me. Nobody explained. The volunteers just smiled, pointed at the spread, and waited to see what a confused American would do. Over the next eleven hours, I ate my way through the most unorthodox ultra fueling experiment of my life. Here's the complete log — the wins, the disasters, and the snacks I'm bringing home to my crew table in Colorado.

The Setup: Real Food or Bust

Taiwanese ultras run on real food. Not as a gimmick — as a default. The culture of night markets and 24-hour convenience stores means race organizers have access to an absurd range of hot, salty, fresh options, and they use it. At my aid stations I counted: steamed sweet potatoes, quartered guavas, salted plum soda, warm miso-style soup, tea eggs, pineapple cake, rice balls (fan tuan), and yes, the braised pork rice.

My plan going in was to ignore all of it and rely on my own vest stash of gels. That plan lasted about ninety minutes into the humid Taiwan morning.

Aid Station by Aid Station

AS1 (Mile 8) — Watermelon and salted plum drink. Easy win. Cold, wet, and the plum drink had more sodium per sip than any sports drink I've ever carried. I filed that away immediately.

AS2 (Mile 15) — Steamed sweet potato. This became my workhorse. A small sweet potato goes down like a gel but sits like real food. No stomach drama, steady energy. I ate one here and at nearly every station after.

AS3 (Mile 22) — The braised pork rice incident. Warm rice with fatty braised pork, at mile 22, in 85-degree heat. I ate it because the volunteer's grandmother energy left me no choice. Verdict: shockingly fine. The salt and carbs hit perfectly. But the grease was a gamble — I'd only repeat this in cooler races.

AS4 (Mile 31) — Tea egg. Familiar territory for anyone who's read this site. A warm, marinated egg is basically nature's recovery product. Protein, salt, easy on the gut. Steal this idea.

AS5 (Mile 40) — The disaster station. I got greedy. Guava, rice ball, pineapple cake, and half a soda, all inside ten minutes. The pineapple cake's dense, buttery richness turned to cement in my stomach and I spent the next four miles regretting everything. Lesson: even real food needs pacing rules.

AS6 onward — Soup and salt. Warm broth became my religion in the back half. Salty, hydrating, gentle. Every Western 100-miler I've run has chicken broth at night stops; Taiwan just serves it earlier and better.

What Wrecked Me

Three things: fat-dense pastries mid-race, eating volume too fast out of excitement, and under-drinking because the plum drinks tasted like juice. Humidity changes the math — I needed roughly double the fluids I'd use in a dry American fall race.

What US Ultrarunners Should Steal

1. Salted plum drinks. Massive sodium, actually pleasant. Umeboshi-adjacent and easy to DIY at home.
2. Steamed sweet potatoes. Cheap, portable, gut-friendly carbs. Cut them into chunks for your crew table.
3. Tea eggs. Marinate eggs overnight in soy sauce, star anise, and tea. Your 3 a.m. aid station will thank you.
4. Warm soup earlier than you think. Don't wait for nightfall.
5. The pacing rule. Real food is great — but treat it like race nutrition, not a buffet.

The Takeaway

I finished the 100K having eaten exactly two of my own gels. Everything else came off those folding tables, served by volunteers who treated feeding runners like an art form. My HOKAs took the pounding; the night market took care of the rest.

If you ever get the chance to race in Taiwan, leave the gel flask at the hotel. And if you can't make the flight, at least put a thermos of broth and a plate of tea eggs at your next crew stop. Your stomach — and your mile 60 self — will notice the difference.