3 September 2013

UTMB - incomplete, but completely excellent!



So I guess should tell you how I got on in my run round the mountains this weekend. I know many of you have had updates of progress and I’ve had fantastic messages of support, thank you for that! But others have been a bit in the dark, and amid rumours of my state of well being, this is a quick summary of what happened. (For the preamble, check the previous post.)


First of all, you might want to get the BBC’s view of the event, which makes the event look quite dramatic... BBC - A Race Around Mont Blanc

Anyhow, all that drama aside, I entered this quite intimidating event with not a single run more than 30km in the last 12 months, having struggled with injuries. So to stand in the sun at the start line, music pounding and crowds cheering was a great feeling. But in the end I got much more from the event than I thought possible. 


Looking ridiculous is part of the trail running way!

The start of the race, 4:30pm in burning sunshine and high spirits

Going this distance in a race, particularly a race of this scale, means a lot of different experiences, many quite unique. The villages and towns passed in the late afternoon and into the evening put on a big show for us as we went through, with bands, the ubiquitous cow bells, and screams of bravo, courage, allez allez from all around. Then we hit wilder terrain, climbing well away from any civilisation to cross the Italian border high up in the mountains. The view looking down from 2,500m at a line of at least a mile of headtorches following me up in the pitch blackness was almost as startling as the stars above. I was treated to a perfect sunrise as I pounded down the hills through Italy, ending up in Courmayer to be greeted by family, a change of clothes and a big bowl of pasta. 

Headtorches strung along the hills and some very bright stars!
Greeted by a fabulous sunrise at the 2,500m entering Italy

77km and I was feeling great, better than I ever have in a long race. With one exception – the descent into Courmeyer was very fast and tough, 25-30% gradient sandy slippery switchbacks, and I fell and rolled my ankle a couple of times. I thought nothing of it. Adrenaline does a great job of obliterating pain, and the excitement of getting back on the trail was too much to give it any time for thought.
Steep and relentless trails, absolutely perfect conditions!

Climbing the following hills I was passing people, in the top half of the field and feeling good, chatting to other runners, all of whom were loving the event, with perfect weather to experience the amazing terrain. I was having fun, but it really is tough. It is often said that these are the ‘toughest trails in the world’ but the reality of kilometre after kilometre of relentless steep gnarly trails is quite awe inspiring. And casualties were dropping by the wayside now, and others with heads dropping and the trudge setting in. While tough on those struggling, seeing others beaten by the trails does lend a little boost of motivation, and spirits were running high amongst the runners. 

View back down towards Courmeyer, the terrain we had covered spread out across the mountains behind

But things took a turn for me as we crossed 100km into Switzerland at Grand Col Ferret, and started a relentless 21km descent. Descending was near impossible on my ankle, but I was not prepared to let it slow me down, so I sped up! More speed means more adrenaline and less pain, so I just gritted teeth and ploughed down to La Fouly, with 24 hours now under the belt. It took me an hour to leave again. Half an hour with doctors, 15 minutes being counseled over the phone with Emily, and I managed to get my shoe to close up over my elephantine ankle and head on. I was enjoying myself so much out there and otherwise feeling I was stronger and in better shape than most of the people around me, so I wasn’t going to let a dodgy ankle spoil my fun.


3 hours of frenetic running later and Champex Lac was the end for me. About 10 doctors crowded round me taking photos of my distended ankle on their iPhones and talking excitedly, while trying to remove compression socks without my screams upsetting other runners! My race was over, but there was no choice in the matter, and that makes it much easier to take. But I was so close to the finish… well being 75% of the way through seems like the work was largely done, but it is testament to the scale of this event that I probably still had 15 hours to finish even without an exploded ankle! 


Top support team picking me up and helping me home at Champex

So I spent the best part of 30 hours on the most amazing terrain Europe has to offer, among the most committed and intense group of 2,300 runners you could assemble anywhere, with amazing support from the locals, my amazing family, and lots of supporters from afar. An experience that tops all my adventures to date, and will be hard to beat.


After an event of this length and intensity, clearly there is much to say, but I have gone on for a long while already, so let me stop! But not without a couple of reflections. First, to anyone who considers embarking on such an endeavour in the future (I hope I inspire someone!), I would not consider it without having Emily Pieters as your support in chief. Emily has been fantastic in supporting me to get to the event, and through the weekend she has picked me up when I have found myself in a hole, made me feel that anything was possible, chased around to support me in day and night, garnered support for me from around the world, and all while looking after a couple of very frayed girls. Emily has been amazing and my achievement in this race is as much hers. 


Worn out girls!


Second, thanks once more for every single message of support and encouragement I have had. Until you get out on these hills and try to keep yourself going for a couple of days, I think it is hard to understand how deep you need to mine your reserves of motivation. I plumbed the depths of mine, and borrowed plenty from elsewhere!


We are on the way home, with the ankle refusing to let me walk (or drive, sorry Emily), but I don’t think it will keep me out of action for long. Will I go back to finish UTMB one day, maybe - it is rather tempting, but will I keep looking for more adventures to head out on, absolutely! 





Two days later, I still have a Hobbit foot, but it is mending fast! Will not be out of action for long...