Ultra Tour du Mont Blanc – 103.5 miles; 9400m ascent

A Slow Person’s Attempt at Getting Round!

The race started at 18:30 on a beautiful warm afternoon in Chamonix. Crowds lined the streets cheering, a helicopter swooped above taking pictures, and huge stereos blared out music. The cameras panned over the runners - some of the greatest ultra distance runners in the world were here and I was thrilled to find myself lining up at the same start line as these tremendous athletes. Many female spectators were in tears and crying out to us 'bon courage' and reaching out to touch us and wish us well. All this and the knowledge that more than half the field would not even make the finish line was overwhelming.

The first few hours felt great. I'd been warned not to head off too fast, so deliberately reined myself in, but still seemed to somehow be cracking on at a respectable pace, and for the first 20 miles I was well under 42-hour pace. The atmosphere as we ran through those first villages was just fantastic - whole villages turned out to cheer us on crying out ‘allez allez allez’, ringing cow bells, singing songs, kids hi-fiving us, bonfires, discos... you name it! I got plenty of special attention for being a girl, with shouts of 'la fille, la fille, magnifique'! At Les Contamines (19.3 miles) I saw Rob for the first time and was grateful for a hug and a Mars bar before things got serious - with the huge climb ahead up to Bonhomme (2479m). All that I could see was a long swooping line of head torches as runners pounded grimly up the endless ascent. Visiblity was poor and I could barely see the ground for the mist and low cloud. On and on we went, and I hit my first low of the race. This just seemed endless, and it was only the second climb! Suddenly I was being overtaken by an awful lot of runners; all I wanted to do was sit down and stop. I finally summited at 3am and began the long trot down again. The hardest thing for me at this stage was the solitude – although there were plenty of runners around (2,200 running in total, so not much chance of finding myself actually alone), the language barrier meant that there wasn’t a lot of chat. I plugged in gratefully to my i-pod. By the time I got to Les Chapieux (31.1 miles) at dawn I was tired and disorientated enough to start insisting at the check point that the marshals give me my drop bag (a bag of spare kit which the organisers kept for us) - which was actually 17 miles away at Courmayeur. After confusing several poor marshals with my demented rantings, I realised my error and stumbled off apologetically to find Rob and some coffee.

Ahead was another 1000m of climb, but my spirits improved a little as the day dawned and I got to see some of the stunning scenery we were running through. I was very anxious about getting cut off by the time limits at checkpoints (based on a 46 hour completion time), but I was doing well (by my standards) and was still just under a 42 hour schedule. I was managing pretty well on the food front - eating lots of the hot salty soup that they were serving at checkpoints (to keep salt levels up) and yoghurt that Rob had with him (to keep my stomach settled). For in between, Rob was topping me up with my favourite running foods to carry with me (pretzels, Mars bars, fruit pastels, malt loaf).

With four of the ten hills under my belt I began the long steep descent into Courmayeur – a really dull series of endless switchbacks through the forest and at a gradient tough enough to really hurt the knees. Courmayeur (48.4 miles) was a bit of a landmark, and I took a few minutes to sit with Rob under the shade of a tree, change socks, wetwipe my toes, check for rubbed bits, wipe my face and eat apple pie. Rob accompanied me out of town and waved me off at the furiously steep ascent up to Refuge Bertone. This was a real killer in the afternoon heat and again I got hugely demoralised as hordes of runners passed me. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong, everything felt okay but I was just going so slowly. Temptation got the better of me and I sat down on the side of the path for a few minutes, head in hands despairing. I might have been nearly half way through the miles but I still had up to 29 hours to get through. Faced with the enormity of what still lay ahead I couldn’t help questioning my ability to make it. I ran through in my head all the people who supported my running endeavours, many of whom were tracking my progress back home – the thought of letting them all down was pretty miserable. Shakily I gathered myself together and decided to just try and get to the top of that hill. It took me another five minutes there to debate what to do – dropping out seemed very appealing. I had no idea how I could possibly summon the strength for the rest of the climbs ahead. I decided to plough on and try and get to the next checkpoint and take it from there. The next climb took us to the highest point of the route (2537m) and by some small miracle, the higher and colder and windier and dustier it got the stronger I started to feel. By the time we got the top I knew that all I had to do was head more or less downhill for the next 15 miles and I’d be at Champex Lac –at 76.8 miles into the course I knew there would be no turning back from there. It was also my next rendez-vous with Rob, and the checkpoint where I’d planned to have a quick nap – all the incentive I needed to plough on as quickly as I could! Darkness had again descended and the short sharp climb just before Champex turned out to be far more brutal than it should have been, so although I was feeling good by the time I arrived at the checkpoint I was ready to drop. They had some mattresses and blankets set up in a tent, so I hunkered down for a quick 20 minute nap, but after 15 minutes I woke up teeth chattering and muscles shaking so badly I had to get up. More hot soup, coffee, chocolate and some bandaging and taping of my sore feet and on I went – feeling strong and totally positive that I was going to make it.

The climb out of Champex was again merciless – not helped by the considerable boulders that we had to haul ourselves around in the dark of the night. Tonight the sky was clear and full of stars. Looking up I couldn’t figure out where the head torches finished and the stars began. I didn’t waste much time at the checkpoint at the top – with 21 miles to go I just wanted to keep the pace up. I was on more or less a 44 hour schedule by now and overtaking a few people, but was still terrified of getting cut off, and wanted to keep some slack in the cut off limits in case something went wrong. At Champex I’d decided to change contact lenses – but had been too tired to remember to take the old ones out before putting in new ones, which made for some interesting fumbling around in the dark trying to sort it out! Every now and again I’d come across a runner fast asleep on the side of the path; or hear the sounds of someone retching into the bushes. My mind was starting to play tricks on me – I’m certain at one point I saw a Lego family eating breakfast under a tree! My nose was trickling blood and I wasn’t sure why, but it wasn’t really severe enough to bother me (it wasn’t until later I realised it would have been due to the rapid changes in altitude). I kept telling myself to stay focussed, and was again pleased to see daylight as I came down to Trient (86.4 miles). It seemed surreal that I’d been going through two whole nights by now. Rob was there again and I was spurred on when he told me he’d be at Vallorcine – just over the next big hill and only 7 miles away. There was no stopping me over the next hill, which felt far easier than I had been expecting, and the descent afterwards was one of the more runnable ones, with the added bonus of daylight and some lovely views. I didn’t stop long at Vallorcine – only 11 miles to go!

The last climb was only added on to the route a couple of years ago but it was definitely worth it – the crowds were fantastic, there was even a jazz band a little way up the ascent belting out ‘o when the saints’ and ‘she’ll be coming round the mountain’. And the views were magnificent, particularly coming out on top to see Mt Blanc glistening in the background. There wasn’t much of a path and boulder-hopping was pretty tough on very tired legs. I felt a muscle in my left leg go and wondered whether to stop to bandage it up to give it some support. But I was too exhilarated to stop now – 6 miles to go – I was actually going to make it!

The last few miles I overtook about 60 people – I’m not sure how my legs managed it but I was determined to get down hill to the finish line as quickly as I possibly could, and was on a mission to get in under 44 hours. I could hear the applause of the crowd in the distance, and the realisation that I was nearly there almost overwhelmed me, and I had to fight back tears. The support from spectators coming down the last mile was amazing. To my surprise my quad muscles started jerking upwards and propelling me forward – I’m not sure it was so much a sprint as a nervous twitch – it was certainly completely beyond my control! I raced into town, grinning from ear to ear, and there was the finish line, and Rob stood right there with a half dozen roses in his hand. In 43 hours 55 minutes, I’d done it!