MB90k 2018

90km du Mont Blanc – 29 June 2018

Looking up at Brevant from the start line

Let’s start with the finish

I finished the 90km du Mont Blanc in 22 hours and 29 minutes, ranking 564th out of 1,142 entrants (49th percentile), and 677 finishers (83rd percentile).  In my category (males 50 to 59 years) I was 64th out of 170 entrants (38th percentile), and 75 finishers (85th percentile). I would not consider this a particularly impressive performance, but given that I spent a third of the race genuinely concerned that I might not finish at all, in the end it is a result that I am fairly happy with.

View of the Mont Blanc massif and Chamonix below from Planpraz

Background

The MB90k is part of the Marathon du Mont Blanc trail running festival which runs for a week in Chamonix at the end of June. The Marathon itself is a highly prestigious race attracting the cream of international trail runners – Kilian Jornet won this year’s event once again. Although less high-profile than the 42km, the 90km race is the longest of the week.  Having already been part of the other two major trail running events in Chamonix – the Trail des Aiguilles Rouges in 2015 and the Courmayeur-Champex-Chamonix (CCC, part of the UTMB week) in 2017 – it was only natural that I should want to tick off the third.

Training and Preparation

On the start line at 4am

One of my challenges for this race is that it is still relatively early in the year and does not really allow me sufficient preparation time following the end of the ski season. This factor was particularly acute this year given the vast amounts of snow that fell in the Alps over the winter, meaning I was still skiing rather than running up until the end of April. Two and a bit months of training is not really sufficient, and whilst I tried to accelerate my schedule, I estimate that I was at only 80% of the fitness level I achieved prior to the CCC the previous August. Further, probably as a result of accelerating the schedule, I had developed shin splints in my left leg following a 50-mile training run (the first half of the Centurion South Downs Way 100 Miler), and this meant complete rest for the three weeks leading up to the race. In the end the rest did its job and that the shin splints thankfully did not reoccur in Chamonix, but this also meant I lost out on the serious hill training planned for those weeks, and knew that I was slightly under-cooked coming into the race.

Sunrise over Mont Blanc as we climb to Bellachat

I had targeted a 21-hour finish time (based on my CCC performance), and against this my actual time was a little disappointing.  In retrospect there were times in the last third of the race when I might have pushed harder, particularly taking more risks on the steep descents, and this might have improved my time by 30-45 minutes, but by then I was just focusing on avoiding injury and getting to the finish. All in all, and given my fitness level, 22.5 hours feels respectable.

Does trail running get any better? Running along the Balcon Sud in the Aiguilles Rouges with Mont Blanc behind

The Route and Conditions

View of Mont Blanc from Tete aux Vents

According to the website, the MB90k is “recognised as one of the most technical trail races in France, it is difficult but it is also one of the most beautiful!” That last part is certainly true – sadly my photos do not do justice to the majesty of the views – and based on my experience, I would agree that several climbs and descents were considerably more technical than anything in the CCC. There were some short sections that included ladders and ropes, and quite long sections of very steep, boulder scrambling ascents. The most brutal was the climb up to the Emosson Dam, which was jaw-droppingly beautiful, but also described by a fellow runner as like doing “alternate thigh lunges, for two hours, in a sauna.”

From the Tete aux Vents looking ahead, the Emosson Dam and the top of the Tete de Balme are clearly visible

The steep climb up to Emosson

The heat certainly added to the difficulty of the race. It is usual to expect warm days in the Alps at the end of June, but this week had been unusually hot with the thermometer topping out above 30 degrees on most days, and little breeze to ease the pain. The early morning, late evening and nighttime were pleasant, but the two major climbs in the middle of the day (up to Loriaz and to Emosson) were punishingly hot. Each small patch of shade we passed would be filled with runners paused, trying to cool off. Whenever we found a stream, it would be littered with runners semi-immersed, soaking hats and buffs (and shirts in some cases), and drinking their fill. From the time that the day heated up at around 9am to when it cooled at around 6pm, I was probably drinking about a litre of water an hour, and was still massively dehydrated – I went over 15 hours without needing to pee!

Even the alternative route at Tete de Balme was snow covered

Strangely given the heat of the day, the conditions were also made more technical by the snowfields remaining on north-facing slopes. I knew firsthand that the preceding winter season had seen extraordinary amounts of snowfall in Chamonix, and was worried about how many of the trails might still have snow on them. The worst affected were the slopes leading from Catogne up to L'Arolette, the highest point above the Tete de Balme in the Le Balme ski area. The race director deemed these too dangerous and so invoked the alternative route under the Tete de Balme chair lift, avoiding the peak and saving us around 150-200m of climbing (which was extremely welcome at the time!). Apart from that the snowiest part of the route was the descent from Brevant to Planpraz – down the Charles Bozon black run. Maybe because of my familiarity with that piste from having skied it many times, I absolutely loved it and flew down overtaking tens of other runners on the way. A total blast!

"Skiing" down the Charles Bozon black piste from Brevant to Planpraz

The course was a 90km-ish loop starting and finishing in Chamonix. It started with the longest single climb up to Brevant (1,370m ascent) and then undulated northwards along the Aiguilles Rouges through the Brevant-Flegere ski area, before descending into the village of Le Buet. After this there were two out-and-back type climbs/descents, firstly 650m up to Chalets Loriaz, followed by a 680m jaunt up to the Emosson Dam in Switzerland.  Although theoretically the smaller of the five major climbs, being in the heat of the day in my view these two were the toughest. As already mentioned, the fourth major climb to Tete de Balme was cut slightly short (“only” 970m ascent). From here the route descended into the village of Le Tour, and followed the Argentiere-Chamonix valley southwards to the next aid station near the helicopter pad at Le Bois. I know this to be just a few kilometers and 15 minutes gentle jogging to home in Chamonix, but that would be too easy. Instead we were sent on a five and a half hour detour, climbing 1,200m up to the Montenvers mountain railway station and then on to the Refuge de Plan d’Aiguille, before being allowed to head for home – a 7km, 1,200m descent into Chamonix town that feels like it goes on for ever. My GPS recorded the total distance as 92.8km with 6,200m of vertical ascent.

Staying ahead of the Dreaded Cut-Offs

One of the major differences between the MB90k and the CCC is the completion rate. Of the 1,142 entrants to the MB90k only 677 finished by 4am Saturday morning and within the 24-hour cut-off time – a completion rate of just 59%. This was not a freak result as the completion rate in 2017 was even lower at 56%. This is significantly lower than comparative races: the CCC in 2017 was 81%, and the Trail des Aiguilles Rouges 2015 was 82%.  Whilst the MB90k is slightly shorter than the CCC, it is more technical, and overall I would say it was more difficult, but the major reason for the difference is that the MB90k has much more aggressive cut-off times, particularly in the first half of the race.

Leaving Le Buet behind time

The early cut-offs were set particularly tightly, one assumes in an effort to weed out the weaker runners with low chances of finishing. Even if I had been on my planned 21-hour schedule I would only have beaten the first 8.15am cut-off at Brevant by 45 minutes. As it turned out, there were long and frustrating queues at the start of the first climb up to Refuge Bellachat due to some fallen trees in the woods. I estimated that this blockage cost me about 20 minutes, and whilst I was feeling strong and overtook as many as possible given the precipitously narrow path, I was 15 minutes behind schedule at Brevant and only 30 minutes clear of the cut-off – a little too close for comfort. In an effort to give myself greater margin for error, I ran the next section hard and reached Le Buet around 60 minutes clear of the cut-off.

Emosson Dam: jaw-droppingly beautiful but a brutal climb

Leaving Emosson with only 30 minutes to spare

As it turned out I really needed that extra margin because as the day began to warm I went through a really low period that lasted about 4 hours. I usually consider climbing to be a comparative strength (making up for being slow on the downhill), so it was deeply dispiriting to feel totally spent on the Loriaz climb with what seemed like a 100 other competitors leaving me in their dust. I knew my fatigue levels were high when I nearly took a wrong turn as we left the water station at the top – fortunately another runner called me back. I have already mentioned the next climb to Emosson was brutal – 2 hours of pain – but whilst everyone was finding it hard I was not used to having to stop every 15 minutes to cool off and get my breath back. Usually I prefer steady consistent climbing rates, and I knew I was really struggling. Reaching the Emosson Dam aid station I had to stop for far longer than I had planned – to rehydrate, cool off and sort out my badly cramped legs – and I left that aid station only 30 minutes ahead of the cut-off.

I was now desperately worried that I was going to get timed out. I usually have a very positive mental attitude, and even in the worst times in previous races I always “knew” inside that I could or would finish. But now I genuinely thought that I was not going to make it. That I did make it to the finish ahead of the dreaded cut-off was because (a) amazingly my climbing legs seemed to return and I felt strong again on the climb up to Tete de Balme, and (b) the bad-weather detour at the top probably saved us all 30 minutes. As a result I reached the aid station at Le Tour 90 minutes ahead of the cut-off, a margin I maintained to the finish.

Logistics and Nutrition

As I have become used to in Chamonix, this was a superbly well-organised event.  Registration on the Thursday was efficient with no queues. The marshals were brilliant as ever – encouraging and considerate. There was great support along the route, and I was amazed at how many supporters got up at 4am to cheer us off. The aid stations were generally well placed and well stocked with most things that you would need, although maybe not as bountiful as the CCC, and a few of the light refreshment stations did run low towards the end. The top award went to the crew at Le Tour who riotously cheered every runner into the tent. A close second were the amazing team at the last aid station at Refuge de Plan d’Aiguille who stayed up the mountain all night and were quick with offers of cups of tea and bowls of soup for the runners collapsed on the chairs they had put out. Highly commended goes to the team who put out a spray of cold water for us all to run through just above Chatelard during the heat of the afternoon – I could have stood under it for hours!

Arriving at Le Tour and back on track

Having suffered energy lows on previous runs I was determined to maintain a regular calorie intake and religiously took one gel (or equivalent from a feed station) every hour, on the hour, from the very start.  Apart from that I consumed the chicken noodle soup that Sarah had prepared and brought for me at Emosson Dam, Le Tour and Le Bois, plus assorted chocolate and fruit from the aid stations. Sarah also produced a nectarine at Le Tour which I devoured greedily – never has a fruit tasted so delicious. My nutrition appeared to work well up until Montenvers when I mistakenly drank some super concentrated squash which caused me to wretch and start throwing-up. It took me 15 minutes to recover, and I could not eat much from then on, but with only 4 hours to go it was not disastrous.

I also consumed around 7 or 8 salt tablets during the day. I always carry these in my pack in case cramps come on as I find a tablet quickly solves the problem. I took my first tablet on the very steep descent to Col de Montets when the first cramps appeared. However, when I really needed them again at the top of the Loriaz climb I reached into my bag and was horrified to find I must have dropped them somewhere – a seemingly small but nearly race-ending mistake. I was not able to get any more salt into my body until 3 hours later at the Emosson Dam aid station where I met Sarah with my spare supplies, and by then my cramps had completely seized both legs. A double dose, plus the salty soup, got me back on track, and from then on I managed to stabilise my salt levels and keep the cramps at bay.

Leaving Le Bois aid station as it gets dark and a long climb ahead

A great advantage of the MB90k route is that the major aid stations are all really well situated in places that are easy for spectators and support crew to reach you, and at times of the day that are not stupidly anti-social. Le Buet, Emosson Dam, Le Tour and Le Bois are all readily accessible by car or bus/train, and I was very lucky again to have Sarah crewing for me. She spent her day driving around the valley to support me, both with emotional encouragement and practical assistance. Her contribution at Emosson was responsible for keeping me in the race. She (and Blue) walked with me across the dam, and just that moral support lifted my spirits enormously. Then when I collapsed with cramp in the shade she fed me coke and soup and even changed my socks and reapplied Gurney Goo to my disgusting feet – really, that was never in the marriage vows! Having crew is not essential in this race, but I would not have made it without Sarah’s help.

Finish line at 2.30am

An analysis of the GPS data shows that I spent 100 minutes stopped in aid stations, much longer than I had scheduled based on my CCC stops, and another reason that my time was slower than hoped for. The simple fact was that I needed the recovery time, and the longest stops (20 minutes at Emosson and Le Bois, and 15 minutes at Montenvers) were sorely needed.

Highlights

• Finishing, and the beer that I inhaled when I got home at 3.30am
• “Skiing” down the black piste from Brevant
• The fountain shower before Chatelard
• The riotous welcome from the crew at the Le Tour aid station
• Sarah’s noodle soup and nectarines

Lowlights

• Tripping on a rock on the path from Planpraz to Flegere and ending up with my face in the dirt, a bloody nose and a grazed hand
• The climbs to Loriaz and Emosson: the emotional “low point”
• Agonising cramps in both legs at Emosson
• The “never ending” climbing traverse from Montenvers to Plan d’Aiguille – I totally underestimated how long it would take, and after an hour I imagined the refuge to be just around the next corner, but then saw a sign saying it was 45 minutes away

Links

• Race details on the Mont Blanc Marathon Website
• GPS track on Strava
• Move on Movescount
• Photos in album on Flickr
• Relive video of Strava track YouTube

CCC 2017

The UTMB CCC – 1 September 2017

Background

I have been a little in awe of the Ultra Trail de Mont Blanc (UTMB) races ever since we just happened to be in Chamonix during the third edition in 2005.  It was a considerably smaller affair then, but I recall quite clearly my incomprehension that anyone could run for that long, or that far, and climb all those mountains, without stopping or sleeping.  These people represented a different species from me.  Of course that was long before I had any interest in endurance events, and if you told me then that one day I would be part of that same set of races, I would asked for one of what you were taking.

The UTMB week also holds special appeal for me because in many ways it is my “home town event”.  Having spent considerable time in Chamonix over the past 15 years, I know well many of the trails and mountains, and once I started doing ultra marathons, it was only natural that UTMB would nag away at my consciousness.  So having accumulated sufficient qualification points, I put in a speculative entry last December not expecting to be successful in the ballot — I understand that it is a one in five chance for someone like me.  But then I heard that I had been allocated a place, and this became my focus and target for season.

Of course I had not entered the UTMB itself — that is just for the superhuman or insane (or both, yes I am talking about you Andy) — but it’s little sister, the CCC: Courmayeur-Champex-Chamonix.   At 100km and with 6,150m of vertical climb, it represents approximately the last two thirds of the full UTMB route, starting in Courmayeur in Italy, progressing though Switzerland and finishing back in France at Chamonix.  However, don’t be misled by the "little sister" tag, the CCC is still a daunting prospect, and easily the hardest race I have ever entered.

The atmosphere in Chamonix for UTMB week is just extraordinary. With 5 different races taking place during the week there were over 8,000 competitors from more than 70 countries, plus their families, supporters, crew, and the associated circus of kit manufacturers, retailers and assorted corporate sponsors. It must surely be the largest global gathering of those with an interest in ultra trail running, and you could just taste the excitement as you walked down the Rue Paccard. Mere mortals like me get a bit of a buzz from passing a familiar face, and then recognising it as belonging to one of the gods of trail running: Kilian Jornet signing autographs, Nicky Spinks doing an interview, etc...

My training and preparation had gone well, with the exception of the Centurion South Downs Way 100 mile race in June (see here) which represented my longest “training run” for the CCC.  I had had major problems, and although I did finish and struggle over the line, my performance was a disappointment and this had knocked my confidence.  I had just had one of those bad days, and was fearful it could happen again. 

I try to have an objective for each race: for this one the primary goal was to finish within the cut-off time (26 hours 30 minutes), with a secondary target of finishing within 24 hours (just because that time has a natural symmetry), and I had prepared a schedule for a sub-24 hour finish.

After a week of warm sunny weather, the long-range forecasts showed horrible thunder storms and heavy rain for the race days.  Fortunately the storms came early on the Thursday, and whilst this soaked all the trails, at least the forecast had improved to a reasonably dry day, albeit followed by heavy rain at night.  We had received notification that because of the poor weather forecast the organisers might be considering switching to an alternative, lower and safer route.  Thankfully this was not necessary, although there was one last minute adjustment to the normal route for safety reasons, but more of that later.

The Race

At the start line in Courmayeur

On race morning Sarah drove me from Chamonix through the tunnel to Courmayeur, and we got there nice and early which meant I was near the front of my starting pen.  Where you start is dictated by your bib number, which in turn is based on your previous race history and times.  I was in the last pen which meant I would be starting in the third and final wave at 9.30am (the first wave of elite runners goes at 9am).  I tried some gentle stretches on a tight left hamstring that was concerning me — it was the same injury that contributed to my problems at SDW100. I decided it was too late to do anything about it now: I hoped it was just one of those phantom injuries you get before a race, but I was a little worried.

Just before the off

As we waited, we were warned by the organisers that although it was sunny and mild in Courmayeur we should be prepared for very cold weather and strong winds on the peaks — how right they were.  The feeling at the start is just amazing: we had the national anthems of the three countries through which we would travel, and the UTMB theme tune (Vangelis' Conquest of Paradise) — it all got quite emotional. 

Happy to be running at last

The snake climbs slowly up

I had wanted to be at the front of my wave in order to avoid the worst of the queues going up to Tete de la Tronche, the first and longest climb of the race to the highest point.  As it worked out, the front of my wave soon caught the rear of the second wave and I was stuck in a queue the whole way up.  Occasionally it was possible to pass, but it was risky and tiring to do so.  This enforced slow pace meant that this was the only leg of the race on which I did not outperform my target times, arriving at the peak in 2 hours 38 minutes, within one minute of the schedule.

Getting closer to the top of the Tete de la Tronche

Refuge Bonatti

Once at the top, the run down to Refuge Bertone was wonderful.  An excellent trail for running, liberated to be free from the queues, I progressed quickly along a ridge with amazing views of the Mont Blanc massif to the right and the Courmayeur ski area directly ahead.  It was simply the best feeling.  I had no need to stop at Bertone — I just filled up with water, took a couple of photos and grabbed some chocolate to munch on the climb out of the refuge.  The balcony run up along Val Ferret, past Refuge Bonatti and then down into Arnouvaz was equally delightful.  Gently undulating with nothing too steep, the sun still warming my back without being unduly hot.  Just perfect.

Views of Courmayeur ski area as we climb up the Val Ferret

Feeling good coming into Arnouvaz

Reaching Arnouvaz in just over 5 hours, I was feeling pretty strong.  I could still feel the tight left hamstring, but it was getting no worse.  I had also had some quad cramps at the top of the first big climb but with the help of some salt tablets I had now run that off.  More importantly, I realised that it was around this time on the SDW100 that it had all gone wrong, but in contrast, this time I felt good, strong and happy.

Starting the climb up to the Grand Col Ferret

Very cold and foggy at the top of the Col Grand Ferret

The climb from Arnouvaz takes you up to the Grand Col Ferret, the second highest point on the route, the border with Switzerland, and probably the most exposed col we would encounter.  Shortly after leaving Arnouvaz the clouds came in and it started raining.  Half way up we ascended into the fog, and as we reached the col the cold wind was cutting.  I had ice crystals forming on my gloves, but fortunately it was better for us than the UTMB’ers who suffered horizontal driving snow at this point 24 hours later.

The fog stayed with us most of the way down to the next aid station at La Fouly, but apart from that it was it was an enjoyable run — good conditions under foot and great to get the legs moving again.

I had read about the famed noodle soup, so I decided to try some at La Fouly.  It was so good  — warm and salty — that I had three bowls.  This was probably a mistake as the next section was 10km of gentle downhill on roads and tracks that were eminently runnable (I clocked 5 minute km pace here without really pushing it), but the noodle soup was sloshing around uncomfortably inside me.  There followed a sharp and rather nasty 400m climb up to Champex-Lac.  Compared to the other climbs on the route, this is just a tiddler, but for some reason it felt to me one of the toughest.  Maybe it was the cumulative impact of 9 hours with only one short stop, or the psychological effect of really wanting to get to the half-way aid station at Champex where Sarah was waiting for me.  Either way it was my lowest point of the race.

Starting to get dark and rain falling as I leave Champex-Lac

By this stage I was about 90 minutes ahead of my schedule which meant that Sarah had had to leave Chamonix early to drive around to meet me (and therefore miss Andy at the UTMB start), but as my ever-efficient crew she was there waiting and ready.  She really is brilliant at crewing — quick to ask what I want to eat and drink, in no time my order appears in front of me, with my drop bag ready and waiting, and water bottles filled before I could ask.  She asks the right questions to check I am doing OK, but does not go over the top with either praise or encouragement.  After 22 minutes I was off and running again — well walking actually so I could let the food settle, and she and Blue accompanied me along the lake shore.  It was now getting dark and very cold — I had to put on my warm mid-layer as well as my outer waterproof, and kept both on for the whole of the remainder, including the uphills.  As I said farewell to Sarah and Blue, and headed off into the forest, it started to rain again, quite heavily this time.

The climb up to La Giète had by now become very wet, muddy and slippery, but fortunately being mostly in the woods we were sheltered from the worst of the rain.  The aid station at La Giète is in a wonderfully cosy barn and many runners seemed to be lingering there — I decided not to stop as I would find it hard to get going again if I got too comfortable.  I was now in familiar territory as I had previously recce’d the route from La Giète to Chamonix, but I was not prepared for the next section of very slippery path with continual trip hazards.  Being cautious on the descent I was passed by many of those that I had overtaken by not stopping, but knowing that a finish was now within my capabilities, I did not want to risk a race-ending injury.

The crowds of supporters at Trient were just amazing and made a massive noise for every runner that approached, an encouraging sound that you could hear from several kilometres away.  It was now around 11pm, there was a public bar at Trient, and I think some supporters had been making full use of the bar for some hours.  The wet conditions were now taking their toll on my feet, and I could feel the dreaded “trenchfoot” blisters starting to burn hot on my soles.  I grabbed a cup of coke and sat down to change into dry socks and apply lashings of Gurney Goo all over my white wrinkled feet.

The ascent out of Trient to Les Tseppes (where there was the usual warming bonfire) and onto the pass at Catogne was one that I now knew quite well, and although it was 90 minutes of hard climbing, it passed quickly and I still felt good.  The run from Catogne down to Vallorcine is usually really enjoyable — just the right gradient and not too technical — but even the excellent studded tread on my Inov-8 X-Talons could not grip in the runny, slimy mud that the path had become.  It really was unspeakably horrible.  It was a blessed relief to reach the bottom station of the Tete de Balme chairlift and join the much more runnable red piste.  Turning off the piste for one more slippery forest trail, eventually the Vallorcine train station appeared, and I had the unexpected boost of Sarah waving at me as I walked into the aid station.

Noodle soup at Vallorcine

I had told Sarah not to bother meeting me at Vallorcine.  I was scheduled to arrive there at 4.30am — I actually got there 3 hours early at just after 1.30am — but either way it was the middle of the night so I didn’t expect her to be there.  However, seeing how hard the rain had been overnight, she was worried that I might be soaked and in need of dry kit, so she had decided to ignore my instructions and meet me there anyway. Simply outstanding!  She sorted me out as usual, and then started crewing for other Brits who were in need of assistance.

In training runs I had run the 200m climb from Vallorcine up to Col de Montets — no chance of that this morning — but it was from here that the route alteration kicked in. I knew that the originally planned climb from Col de Montets up to Tete aux Vents included some very steep sections with steps and scrambles over smooth rocks and vertical stream beds, and probably wisely the organisers had considered it too dangerous in these wet conditions.  Instead we had been instructed to take the route “straight from Col de Montets to Flégère” thus avoiding Tete aux Vents.  Naively I had assumed that this would be less climbing and much easier.  I counted down the metres on my watch altimeter and as we approached the altitude of Flégère I celebrated that the last climb was nearly over.  Nope. The organisers had a nasty surprise for us, and we then decended all the way back down again.  I am not sure what was worse: the psychological damage that I knew I would now have to climb those 500m all over again, or the fact that this was the nastiest, most technical, root covered, rocky and slippery descent of the whole race, all undertaken in a foggy darkness.  After that soul destroying descent, the simpler pain of climbing again was a welcome relief.  I decided it was time for a gel and an energy boost, and whilst it was a slog, I was soon at Flégère.  I didn’t stop at the aid station, but just checked my timings and ran straight through, by now anxious to just get to the finish.

The first section of the descent from Flégère is a steep technical zig-zag path through the trees with lots of roots and rocks, and I took it slowly and carefully, being passed by quite a few more courageous or stronger runners.  From Chalet Floria the path widens and becomes shallower, and from here I was able to run the whole way to the finish line.  Time to plan the celebration.  Sarah was of course there to welcome me, and I was astounded to see that our friend Ali had got up early to see me finish as well: 5:53am, 3.5 hours ahead of schedule.  

The finish line!

Reflecting on it all I am left with a strong appreciation of how lucky I am: lucky to have to won a place in the ballot; lucky to be able to run (ok, mostly walk) in such beautiful mountains; lucky to have such a supportive and understanding wife; lucky to have so many friends and family following me at home via the website; and lucky to have the health and fitness that enables me to have been one small part of such an amazing event.

Lessons and observations

Registration: efficient and friendly

I had read beforehand that the UTMB races were too large, too corporate and frankly not very "friendly". It is of course a massive event, and if you want to run in the mountains in peaceful isolation, this is not the race for you. However it was all superbly organised, the logistics were all spot-on, the volunteer marshals and helpers were all excellent, and the aid stations extremely well stocked. If you want to see friendliness just look at how the locals from every village we passed came out to support, even during the night, and how many supporters trekked up to remote places to cheer us on. Whilst it is true that there was not as much chatting between competitors as I am used to at races in the U.K., that might be because you were often unsure as to which language to use to start the conversation. I did meet a number of Brits on the way round and we did have a good old natter. Particularly Richard and Tim Antrobus (bizarrely no relation) with whom I shared the first climb, and Jamie Chaffney with whom I ran from La Fouly to Champex. Thanks Jamie for dragging me up that hill into the aid station, and for finding my watch when the strap broke on that same climb.

Making good use of those poles on a slippery rocky section

Cheat Sticks: this was my first race using poles. To be clear I do not consider the use of poles cheating – if the rules allow them that's fine by me – but I know some do not use them out of principle. My rough estimate based on those I saw around me on the CCC suggests that the vast majority (probably 95% or more) used poles. I found they made a massive difference both on the uphill and the downhill, and couldn't imagine doing the race without them. I did not suffer at all from sore quads or glutes, which means that either I trained superbly, or that I had the poles to thanks.  Ok, I guess it was the poles. The only sore muscles I had were actually in my arms which suggests I probably should have trained more with them before the race.

The Statistics

• Of the 2,155 starters 1,742 finished with 413 DNFs (19%)
• 73 different countries were represented on the start line, with the largest number of competitors coming from France (36%), Spain (12%), Italy (8%) and U.K. (6%)
• The winner (Hayden Hawks of the US) finished in an extraordinary 10 hours 24 minutes
• I finished in 20 hours 22 minutes and 22 seconds, in 611th overall (28th percentile of starters)
• I was ranked 35th in the V2H (men between 50 and 60) category (13th percentile of 288 starters) and 38th in all over 50s (10th percentile of 382 starters)
• Of the 700 starters in the 3rd wave only 16 finished ahead of me
• I spent 65 minutes in aid stations. I consumed 5 gels but none of Shot Blocs or Bounce Balls that I carried.  Why do I always carry too much food?  From the aid stations, apart from water, I took the following: chocolate (Bertone), crackers (Bonatti and Arnouvaz), noodle soup (La Fouly, three bowls!), pasta and tea (Champex-Lac), coke (Trient), and tea and crackers (Vallorcine)

Celebrating in the finishers' gilet

Links

Race details on the CCC Website

GPS track on Strava

Photos in album on Flickr

Video montage on YouTube