TDS 2018 (part 3 of 3): these Alps are tough!

Finally getting a break to write this race report, while sitting on a TGV for Paris. It's Saturday afternoon, 3 days have passed since the TDS race, Xavier Thevenard just won his third UTMB (his Wikipedia page has an impressive record of achievements), taking an amazing revenge on the mishap at Hard Rock a few weeks ago where he was going to win with a comfortable margin but got disqualified for meeting his crew 2 miles after an aid station. What an amazing way to save his season by benefiting from a debacle across the other favorites.

A few (!) words on my TDS then, for this third and last episode. In my previous two posts, I mentioned that, while being ready from a logistical standpoint, I felt grossly undertrained for such a beast. Why had I decided to sign up for this event then? First, as it is customary in the ultra world, it was many months ago, in January if I recall. Second, I did it because my ITRA ranking guaranteed me an entry, something too good to pass on with such a tough lottery to go through otherwise. Then, I had great intention to do some good hill training in the meantime. But the year turned out differently, and, apart for some hilly ultras in the Spring most of the 2,200 miles I ran so far in 2018 have been on flat ground...

But I was still glad and willing to be part of this amazing week and international event, knowing that it was going to be hard but resolute to cover what I thought were 100 kilometers before I discovered a few days before the race that it was closer to 122 kilometers (plus 7,300 meters of cumulated climb). To tell you how well I was actually (not) prepared psychologically...

I was also excited about getting an elite status, especially after what happened 2 months ago where I completely missed the start of the 90K of Chamonix, where I could have also started at the front, instead of the very back...

With all this excitement, I had a rough night and hadn't even slept 5 hours when my alarm woke me up at 2:40 am. My shuttle was set for 4:15 am and, when walking a mile to the bus stop, I was stunned to hear at 4am from a Japanese runner, that the shuttles and the start got delayed by 2 hours, apparently because of the bad weather on the Italian side while the weather forecast was indicating a sky as clear as on the French side of Mont Blanc; that was weird. Anyway, I walked back to my apartment after this false start. I learned later that most runners had received a text message on Tuesday afternoon, announcing the delayed start as well as a detour after Bourg-St-Maurice, suppressing about 500 meters of brutal climb. Seems like foreigners who had entered their number according to the international standard, prefixing our country code with a + sign, should have entered 00 instead. You would think that the organizers had figured that out after several years of mass notification, or at least double the notification with an email...

At least, with an 8 am start, we won't have to start with our headlamps. The weather was indeed gorgeous on the other side of the tunnel, the assurance of a warm morning. Here is the moon and the clear sky over Courmayeur:

I got to the start line at 7:40 and tried to get in the elite corral, only to learn that, while my bib was lower than some of the elites, my ITRA ranking was now too low to get in. Damned! I started to walk along the start area now packed with more than a thousand runners and walked back to try again. Same rebuttal at 7:50 it was now time to find a solution. I asked some runners in the back if I could hop over the fence and got denied twice. At the third attempt, back in the pack, 2 Frenchmen accepted to let me in when I told them my story... I'm very grateful to them, we were probably in the top 400 runners at least.

Not to far from the start line...

 The rear view of an infinite sea of runners...

The first mile is actually down through Courmayeur so the start looked like a sprint or a corrida where we were trying to escape bulls set free on the streets! I was fearing we would end up on a single track on the other side of the valley, but, as opposed to the treacherous trail we take to get into Courmayeur in the UTMB race, we were climbing to Col Chécrouit Maison Vieille on a wide service road/ski track. Much better than the climb to Le Brévent in June, phew!

The climb was quite steep and almost everybody was using poles but I decided that mine were solidly attached, that I would only get them at Lac Combal, mile 10. It took me almost an hour to get to Col Chécrouit (only 7 km!). I was probably already 15 minutes behind the leaders, but I could care less because I couldn't go faster or breath more. From there, it was a single track indeed but the pace was good and the climb to Arête du Mont-Favre gave everybody a good sweat, so much that I had already drunk my bottle of GU Brew when I got to Lac Combal. The next aid station was 13 miles away, so it was important to refill anyway. As planned, I got my poles out there, and it helped a lot in the next steep climb to Col Chavannes. I stopped there to admire the 360-degree views and snap a few pictures.

The following downhill to Alperta was really cool and I managed to log a few sub 8-minute mile on the rocky service road. And I also enjoyed the climb to Col du Petit Saint-Bernard, the border between Italy and France. When I got there though, I had emptied both my bottles again so I stopped for a while to refill as well as get a couple of cups of soup and Coke. While there, a storm hit the large tent we were under, I felt bad for those who got caught in the heavy rain before or after this aid station. I first put my rain jacket on and packed to get going again but then I saw many other runners putting their waterproof pants on as well, so I did that too. The problem is that I'm so unused to changing like this, that it took me quite a while and, when I left the station, it was barely drizzling for a mile, then the rain stopped and I got really too hot and wet under these layers. I stopped on the side of the trail to change in an ad hoc manner, imitated by half a dozen of other runners. 10 more minutes lost, after about 30 at the aid station...

The weather was sunny again and I had a good descent to Bourg-St-Maurice at mile 31 (51K). That being said, with all this downhill, I was starting feeling a blister forming under each of my big toes, so I stopped again for a while at this key station. Taping my toes at the medical tent, refilling my bottles, getting a couple of cups of soup, and enjoying quite a few slices of dry sausage.

Ron Guttierez, a fellow ultra runner from San Francisco, had run TDS last year and was in CCC this week (he took 5th in his/our age group!). Here is what he had to say about the course:

“From the start in Courmayeur to Bourg St. Maurice the TDS course is a little harder than Ohlone 50k.  Then the 2,000-meter climb that follows is off the charts.  The last one Tricot is also ridiculous.  Even the last 8k is gradually uphill.  Reaching Chamonix will never feel so good.”

I was warned that the second half would be tough... Although, the new course looked much easier that the original one.

The revised course with the gradual climb, between Bourg St Maurice (km 51) and the Cormet de Roselend  (km 70)

The original course profile:

After such a long stop in Bourg St Maurice then, I felt much better and I even switched on my phone to let the (Facebook) world know that I had a rough day in the mountains but I was resolute to finish this race! In such high and positive spirit, I literally attacked the next section, remembering that we were not getting on a detour much less difficult than the original course. I passed about 50 runners in the next 20 uphill kilometers to the Cormet de Roselend.

As a matter of fact, I ran most of the last 3 miles on the uphill road, rushing to reach the station before the sky fell on us. It turned to such a dark grey, we were sure to get some heavy rain again.

Still feeling my big toes burning, I made another stop at the medical tent to retape my feet. During the 15 minutes required by that, the tent started shaking and the speaker announced at least one hour of rain. Leveraging the only drop bag we had on this course, here, I decided to change, then put on my rain gear again. With the refill, I spent about 50 minutes in the station and, after all this time, the rain turned to a light drizzle but I wasn't ready to get drenched while we were now getting into the night at 9 pm.

The climb to Col de la Sauce got quite muddy and the poles really helped controlling or stopping the sliding. On the other side of the pass, we got into a technical descent which I recognized from my two Montagn'Hard races. All the bad memories came back and broke my mental, getting me down to a super careful and slow pace. I did slide hundreds of times in the next 3 miles but managed not to fall. As I approached a section where a faster runner had yelled "Beware, slow down" I did slow down even more and got distracted by a gal who slipped and fell just behind me. That made me fall too, very unfortunately on my left pole. The bad wasn't that bad except that the pole broke and that is very bad on such a hilly and muddy course! Ironically, I had put in my drop bag a pair of spare poles in case, but they were 6 kilometers behind now...

I continued through the rocky and slippery section for a few yards, with one pole, only to fall again, this time heavily on my right hip, pivoting so much that my head ended up down the trail. I had much trouble moving and getting up, so much that the four runners behind me stopped to provide assistance. I left them quite puzzled when they saw the American flag on my bib but heard me swearing both in English and perfect French! ;-) I told them I was ok, but, in my mind, I decided that was enough and I was going to drop at the bottom of the descent, at La Gittaz. But, first thing, I had to get there, it was still about 2 miles away and, with all this mud, in the dark, it was going to take another 20 minutes or so.

Once at La Gittaz, I sat down and let the aid station captain that I was dropping and needed to get on the next shuttle. After some negotiation, I realized it could take 4 to 6 hours to get on a shuttle, then down to the wrong valley, having to wait for another 2 or 3 hours for a shuttle to Les Contamines, then wait for another shuttle to Chamonix. The alternative? Continue up to Col du Joly... The captain assured me that he was a runner and the next section was in much better shape than the previous one. Well, as much as I was happy to get to the pass after 3 hours of scrambling over the next 6.5 miles, the trail was actually very muddy too and it was super hard with one pole. Ironically, I reached the pass with Eric, another runner who had broken a pole as well and had as much difficulty controlling the sliding as I had. And, at the Col du Joly aid station, I met another runner who had broken both his poles, but wasn't taking that as an excuse to stop; I’m not convinced how efficient that was, he even had fixed one pole with some tape!

It was now 1 am and I felt lucky to get on a shuttle at 1:30. Contrary to the comfortable shuttles of the morning, that one was a 20-minute bumpy ride down the mountain, to Les Contamines. As bumpy as it was, I felt so much better than having to run the next 10 kilometers of the course to Les Contamines!

Down there, my day wasn't over though. The shuttle for Chamonix came an hour later (3 am), we got to Chamonix by 4 am, where I got my drop bags and walked back to the apartment, crossing a handful of TDS finishers in Chamonix. I slept from 5 am to 12:30 pm and got back to the mill (aka work...) from 3 pm to 1 am.

I just had the time to wash my muddy gear before getting on the phone.

That's a lot of drop bags, isn't it?

I worked on Friday too but managed to run 10.5 miles around Chamonix on Saturday morning, a great way to grieve for this other embarrassing and painful DNF in the Alps. 2 UTMB races, 2 failures, not a great stat. Including 2 Mountain'Hard participations (DNF in 2013, a 3rd place in my age group in 2017) and the Chamonix 90K this year, the Savoie wins 3 to 2 so far.

From the Lac des Gaillands, here is a shot of the rare view we had on Saturday of the Arête du Goûter. With the fresh snow on it, you can tell that the UTMB runners didn't have a much better weather we had on TDS either...

The weather was still very cloudy when I left Chamonix at 2 pm (view toward the Aiguille du Midi). That was 45 minutes before Xavier closed the loop around Mont Blanc (yes, under 21 hours!!).

While the outcome is of a course a big disappointment, many things worked well. First, I still managed to cover 3/4 of the course (90K), including the major climbs, without breaking a bone, phew! I felt strong in the uphills, never bonked, no GI issue (thanks to my keto diet and the Vespa Power supplement, plus one GU gel per hour), no cramping (well, at that slow speed anyway...), I kept my hydration in check thanks to GU Brew and one Succeed S!Caps every hour. But I certainly lost an insane amount of time at the aid stations.

I have to admit that it is so much harder to run in the Alps, compared to the super neat trails we have in California. And I have too much fear of falling in the technical descents, I can't manage to take pleasure in racing here, especially in such a large field. There is also the bruising of the ego, with the feeling of being a Formula 1 race with a clunker car, no pit/crew and such a lack of experience running these hilly trails and in such bad weather conditions (for me anyway). Except when racing here, I never train with a back pack, never train with poles, never train in such weather conditions, what can I expect from racing here then... Just more learning experiences...

I know, all bad excuses, many have finished while going through the same conditions, but they probably had much different expectations, and a better mental preparation. Anyway, it is done, it's already time to move on and keep my eye and mind on the next one. Speaking of which, I just got invited to race a 100K race in China at the end of October, this is super exciting! And, yes, it's on the road, so better get back to some speed, which is the part I like the most in ultra running, and which I miss the most in trail running in the Alps...

Before concluding, and although I doubt any of them will read this post, let me thank the myriad of volunteers who assisted us in such conditions and for many hours, with smiles and encouragement! It feels really bizarre to not seeing one familiar face during an ultra; I knew only one person among the runners, YiOu Wang, but I learned after I dropped that she didn't start, actually. :-(

With that, it was another amazing experience to be part of this world summit of ultra trail running but I'm very much looking forward to getting back to my ultra family in California then, I miss you all!

TDS 2018: H-10, getting ready!

I should be sleeping so a short one before I disappear in the treacherous Alps in 10 hours. According to the picture from the title sponsor, Columbia, at the bib pick-up, I am... Ready for UTMB 2018!

Well, not sure the photograph was able to read everything going through my mind these days...

The cold is almost under control, it's going to be interesting to see if high elevation is going to finish clear my sinuses, or the opposite...

The weather? Not bad at H-12, but clouds are quietly building up so it's likely the weather men's forecast will materialize tomorrow. Thunderstorms and rain showers at least in the afternoon and evening. Better not spend all the night up there, although I'm afraid that's what I'm going to do (the lead runners are expected in Chamonix by 8:30 pm, but I'd be happy if I make it early Thursday...).

Good news: I had all the required items in my pack for the control at the bib pick-up. Last year if I recall, we were checked on 3 items. This year? 8! Serious stuff, and that doesn't include potential gear check during the race...

 Worst than TSA's security check at airports... especially when you get used to the TSA Pre-Approved status!

What a week in Chamonix! Amazing for instance that the main language here is English. I was shopping this afternoon, and I didn't know which language to use, first with an employee with an Italian accent but, more embarrassedly, with another employee with a strong French one! ;-) Definitely in tune with the title of "world summit of trail running!"

Super cool to see Celia from GU in Berkeley, manning the booth today:

I also spent some time at the Petzl airstream lab to understand how to best leverage the customizable modes of my Petzl Nao+. I wish I wasn't going to need it tomorrow night, but I certainly will!

And yesterday, between two conf calls, I managed to catch my grandson's MCC finish, at least someone I knew!

Matthieu with two of his friends, Kevin (28th overall) and David, having fun on the podium and finish line!

With that, time to go to bed, shuttle at 4:15 am in France and start at 6 on the Italian side! You can follow me live at https://utmbmontblanc.com/en/live/runner/6122. No big expectation except to finish this other beast! Back to you on Thursday then!

PS: for more details on the race, see my previous post of Sunday.

****** 4 am race day update ******
Bus shuttles delayed by 2 hours, start delayed by 2 hours as well at 8 am Central European Time, 11 pm Pacific Time. So long for a better and longer pre-race sleep...

TDS 2018: so grossly under trained for this, but here anyway!

Oh my, another week to live by my globe trotter reputation... A week ago I was in London, then Paris last week, flew back home in Silicon Valley for just 2 days home and here I am again, in France, after a connection through Frankfurt and Geneva. Not anywhere in France but Chamonix for the pilgrimage to the Mecca of mountain and ultra trail running! While pious Muslims flocked to Saudi Arabia this past week, trailers as we call ultra and trail runners here in France, aspire to attend the UTMB week which starts this Monday. More than 8,000 runners across 7 major races ranging from 40 to 300 kilometers (25 to 186 miles).

But like I was mentioning in the report of my last race here (90 km of Chamonix), 2 months ago, distance is not only just a number, it hardly describes the epic ascents and descents, the mind-blowing cumulative elevation and the roughness of the technical trails. Or, as the more optimistic would start with, the amazing views of alpine summits and valleys!

Back in June, I had promised myself I would work on these quads to feel fully ready to take on the TDS challenge. Well, it didn't happen, most of the hill training I got was at Skyline 50K 3 weeks ago and a 3 runs to the top of Black Mountain in July, each with about 1,200 meters of cumulated elevation over 45 to 50K, that is about 1/3 of what the UTMB races offer. Oh, and my training was on smooth Californian fire roads, except for the 2 miles of barely technical French trail at Skyline.

To top that off, I got a cold just before my CDG-SFO flight last Wednesday so I'm still heavily sneezing, and some coughing too. I still say it's perfect timing because there are still 3 days to recover, I hope it has passed by Wednesday morning... Oh, and work doesn't stop, I have to work on Monday, Thursday and Friday while in Chamonix. Better enjoy this sunny Sunday, the weather is supposed to changed on... Wednesday (see below what it matters to me!).

This year, after my embarrassing DNF at the 100th kilometer of UTMB last year, my plan was to register for both TDS (Wednesday) and CCC (Friday). Why? So I could finally complete the loop, first the South part, clockwise, from Courmayeur to Chamonix, then the northern section, counter-clockwise, also from Courmayeur to Chamonix. Yes, crazy! The other reason is that, between my faltering ITRA ranking (they don't factor age in their performance computation) and the raising of the elite threshold, I was afraid this would be the last year I could get guaranteed entries. Well, so long for a crazy dream because, in all fairness for all the aspirant runners who can't get in year after year despite about 8,000 spots overall, the organizers don't allow double registration. Since I first proceeded with TDS, TDS it is this year. And, when I say this year, I actually mean that this may be the last one here because, not only I'm struggling on the technical trails, with a combination of age-based fear and the souvenir of breaking my shoulder on a trail in Tahoe, but the size of the field, a couple of thousands in the key races, doesn't thrill me admittedly.

Now, what is TDS? Well, to get the acronym, you need a bit of French understanding: Tour des Ducs de Savoie. Not too hard though, tour and Savoie translates 1 to 1, and Ducs means Dukes. An allusion of this troubled past of this region where Dukes owned different part of the Savoie region and fought hard against neighbors and other invaders from nearby countries, most especially Italy.

That's for the name of the race. As mentioned above, we'll start in Courmayeur, on the Italian side of Mont-Blanc and go further South than the Tour-du-Mont-Blanc trail to get more rugged terrain, make it longer, 120 kilometers (75 miles), and get more cumulated elevation, 7,300 meters (or 24,000 feet). You know, just for the fun of making it harder, why not? ;-)

Start time is 6 am (45 minutes before sunrise), which is going to require a sub 3 am wake-up call, plus hopping on a shuttle at 4 am to cross the Italian border through the tunnel. The crazy faster guys should get to Chamonix around 8:30 pm! The slowest have 34 hours to finish on Thursday by 4 pm. My expectation? I've really no clue. Again, after what happened at the Chamonix 90K this year and UTMB last year, I just hope to have a better start given my sub-elite bib number, we shall see. Without sandbagging, sincerely, my main goal is to finish, without falling (I still have scars from my fall in June, and my broken finger last year) and, per Agnès' usual recommendation or hope, I need to focus on the enjoyment part. Maybe I'll even dare to take more pictures this time, if the weather cooperates (guess what, it can certainly change as we are in the mountain but, as of Saturday, forecast goes for... thunderstorm, damned! Hopefully with without the freezing temperatures we got for UTMB last year...

The course map (you can click to zoom in):

The elevation chart:

The time chart (9 hours ahead of California so the start is at 9 pm on Tuesday night in San Francisco):

Contrary to the races in California where I see so many familiar faces, here I feel like a complete stranger and newbie. Well, at least I managed to meet one of my godsons, Matthieu, who is running the inaugural MCC (Martigny-Combe Chamonix) 40K race tomorrow; so glad we share the same passion for trail running!

I'll wear bib 6122 (122nd ITRA score out of 1,600 runners, and 3rd in my age group), and expect to see YiOu Wang (6013) in the elite corral at the start (not much after that!). YiOu competes mostly in California except that she has been exploring the world this past year, living quite an amazing life experience! Maybe Vincent Delabarre too (in my age group, 2004 UTMB winner, from Chamonix).

We are 28 runners coming from the US (or at least registered under USA) and about half of them are faster than me, that's crazy! I'm actually surprised about the low number of our contingent this year.

After TDS last year, Ron Guttierez is back from California for the CCC (albeit under another spelling, Gutierrez, beware!). If you read this, and your are in Chamonix, leave a comment below! Or if you know of someone who is running one of the UTMB races whom I may know too, I'd love to connect, let me know too!

'nough said, I need to take it easy and had better (re)build some mental to get into this race in great and positive spirit! 3 more days for that, the clock is already ticking!

================================================================
PS: bonus pictures with more information about that very special week in Chamonix, the world summit of ultra trail running!

All the races on one map:

The planning of the 7 days:

And the history since the event started in 2003 (only 67 finishers on UTMB!):

UTMB 2017: what happened…

First, a warm thank you for tracking my progress during the race, sending encouragements before and as I was moving, or checking on me when I wasn’t anymore… And to all of those who either trained hard but couldn't make it to the start, toed the line or even finished, congratulations, this is quite the beast I imagined, a race worth being the epicenter of the worldwide summit of ultra trail!

Well, now, with all the live coverage provided by the top notch race organization, there isn’t much suspense to hold in this race report, isn’t there? By now, everybody knows that we had quite some bad weather and that I dropped around kilometer 98, out of about 167. The weather was bad enough that the course got two minor changes a few hours before the start, to avoid two of the exposed peaks but still leaving the insane difficulty of this course pretty much intact. Another way to look at it though is that the weather wasn’t as bad as a few years ago when the race stayed on the French side of Mont Blanc. UTMB has definitely seen a broad spectrum of weather conditions in 15 years!

After having a blast at Boston on a hot year, and winning Ohlone for the 6^th time thanks to the traditional high temperatures which suit me well, I felt sorry that I didn’t run UTMB the past two years instead of this one since they were hot years. While I did run my fastest 50Kin freezing temperatures in March 2016 in New York (3:18:05), it was short enough that I could resist. More than 5 or 6 hours in the cold, and I’m missing body fat and/or will power to hold on… Throw some rain, hail or snow, and I’m way too Californian now to survive! So, while I was super stoked that the weather looked ok at the start of the UTMB 2017 edition, I knew I was on for an epic run if the bad weather forecast materialized at any point, and especially during the first night...

Ah, the start… this is probably the best souvenir which will stick for many years. As I mentioned in my previous post, I had just enough points in the ITRA ranking to have a preferred access to the elite corral, I just had to get to the start line 20 minutes before the gun (which got delayed by 30 minutes to 6:30 pm to account for the course change). The closest to that was when I got an elite start at the Chicago Marathon in 2003 or the first corral at Boston.

With that I couldn’t have better pre-race conditions, leaving our apartment with the family and friends by 5:50 pm and having the opportunity to approach and mingle with the World crème de la crème of ultra running!

However, being the oldest in this special elite group (see my previous pre-race post), I humbly went to the back of the corral where I actually met Dominick Layfield, who lives in California but was running here for the Union Jack. We both ran Quicksilver 100K this year, him taking 1^st and I, 3^rd.

Look at how many runners are behind us, more than 2,500 starters this year! They even seem to come out of the church...

So cool to start that close of the UTMB arch or door:

Thanks to this ideal placement, I was able to run through the start line, something 2,000 runners behind weren’t able to do as we are channeled by one deep row of spectators on each side for at least the first kilometer. I was amazed by how many people there were, all yelling and almost each of them holding a smart phone: how many hours of video where taken at this point, that must be a lot of cumulative disc storage! ;-)

An image extracted by Max of his video of the start, with my blue GU Energy cap in the center:

With a downhill start, the pace was rather fast for such a grueling 100-miler. Despite running under 8 minutes/mile for the first 5 miles, I got passed a lot and had no clue where I was in the field as we started the first steep climb after Les Houches.

By then, it was already drizzling and, the higher we were going in the cloud, the wetter we got. I felt great in the descent to St Gervais (km 21), just that I had to stop at some point to put my headlamp on as I couldn’t see enough when we were crossing tree areas. After these quiet miles, it felt bizarre but quite uplifting to get into a super noisy crowd, reminding of the Boston Marathon one. I stopped at the buffet and was super pleased to find watermelon among the many choices. In July I ran the Montagn’Hard and there wasn’t as much variety; I had thought it would be the same for UTMB. I also grabbed a cup of Coke and was back on the road to Les Contamines in the dark, and the rain.

I arrived there completely soaked and was looking forward to meeting Max who had additional dry and warm clothes for me for the cold night ahead. However, upon getting under the tent, no sign of Max, oops! I didn’t panic, thought that we had started too fast anyway so didn’t mind resting a bit, went to the food and drink tables to refuel while waiting then called his cell phone. He had been stuck in the shuttle in the traffic for hours but, thankfully, was now just 5 minutes away.

As I was waiting, I asked two ladies if they knew if there was snow ahead at the Col du Bonhomme and they replied: “we don’t think so… however, Killian Jornet changed here and put two layers on.” Oh, what a precious tip, that definitely got me to pick my warmest long sleeve top, plus a light rain jacket/wind breaker, and my warmest tight too. Plus Gore-Tex shoes. And a waterproof pant on…

In this unusual costume for me, and a long break, I went back on the course, feeling good to be dry and warm but… not feeling much strength left in my legs already, darn! We were only 31 kilometers in the race, that didn’t feel right at all. Just before leaving Les Contamines, Max told me I was 111^th overall and 2^nd in my age group, and that was more that I wanted to hear as it meant I had started too aggressively (which I had a hint when the MC announced Sébastien Chaigneau was just ahead of me, oops!).

I got passed by a few runners on the rolling section to Notre Dame de la Gorge, then by more runners as we started our second steep and long climb to the Refuge du Col du Bonhomme.

Half way up, we were timed at La Balme and one volunteer told me I was looking good and now in 160^th position. It was getting really cold with the altitude and the trail alternated between rocky sections with high steps or mud. I tried to focus on the use of my poles to keep a strong pace but got passed again and again which was kind of demoralizing.

I was feeling so cold, what kept me moving was to get to the pass where I thought I’d find a tent to stop and put my waterproof jacket. To my dismay, there wasn’t anything at the top except a super strong and cold wind coming right in our face. I found 2 runners on the side of the trail who had stopped, shivering in the hail and cold to put their jacket on, and I did the same. With this third layer, plus my Brooks waterproof mittens, I quickly felt way too hot and excessively sweating in the descent to Les Chapieux.

The descent was made of muddy gullies and I had to slow down to avoid falling in traitorous switchbacks, getting passed by more and more runners. I was really pleased to reach Les Chapieux, it was bringing back great memories from my recon runs, in sunny weather… I drank a few plates of soup, a few cups of Coke, removed my hot gloves, fleece hat and waterproof jacket, hoping this would allow the sweat to dry. We had more than 17 kilometers before the next aid station at Lac Combal, including a climb to Col de la Seigne, the French-Italian border, 1,000 meters above Les Chapieux. Or maybe only 15 km since we didn’t have to climb to the Col des Pyramides this year but still a very challenging section.

In the climb, I tagged along/behind a tall runner whom I thanked at the top (Alex, #845, from Switzerland). I was happy we had passed a few participants on the way up and, although feeling cold after this sustained effort, still being wet, I decided to keep going to get to a lower altitude as soon as possible. But going down was difficult and I was relieved to make it to the Lac Combal aid station, with its full buffet. I switched my phone on but couldn’t get much service. As I left the station, it was drizzling and windy and I got so cold that I stopped to put the waterproof jacket on again (I had removed it at Les Chapieux). These details may seem irrelevant but, first, it was taking me a few minutes each time, opportunities to get even colder every time I stopped in the cold wind and rain and, second, they mean to convey that I couldn’t find a way to regulate my body temperature, either too hot with three layers at lower elevation or too cold when wet at higher elevation. I was thinking that I should have taken a picture at the start of how small Jeff Browning’s bag for instance looked. But Jeff lives in Bend, Oregon, so he is made of iron, both body and mind. Not me… definitely! Oh, and he is super fast, 4th at Western States this year!

I had a short conversation with a runner named Nicolas and I tried to stay close behind in the climb to the Arete du Mont Favre but I lost him as I had to stop again to drop a layer... The descent to Col Checrouit was slow and I got passed again by maybe 30 runners. When I got to the aid station before the plunge into Courmayeur, one runner told me “Wow, it seems like your legs are trashed!” I’m sure they might have been a bit of empathy in the intent, but what a demoralizing ‘encouragement’ and way to kill your competition mentally! ;-)

The sun was rising and the view were finally magnificent, the clouds clearing up. At this point, my mind was set to just keep moving and finish no matter the time it was going to take. I walked most of the 4 kilometers down to Courmayeur, it was as bad as I remembered from running that section years ago.

I was so relieved to get to Courmayeur (km 80), I even ran up to the gymnasium's entrance and was super glad to see Max for the second time. As a super crew, he had only slept a couple of hours, getting back to Chamonix at midnight, setting the alarm clock to check on my progress at 2 am, then 3 am, and jumping on the 4:30 am shuttle to Courmayeur. And he welcomed me with a big smile and all my stuff perfectly laid out on a table so I could quickly see what I needed.

But speed wasn’t my thing anymore, I got in at 7:30 and left at 8:20. I even tried to sleep on a coat but couldn’t feel asleep within 5 minutes so decided I’d better move, reviving in fresh and dry clothes.

Something weird happened with my Garmin during these 50 minutes indoor: the GPS kept adding some distance and logged a total of 4 kilometers during my stop!

As a matter of fact, as I left the sports center, I took a wrong turn but I quickly figured out something was off and retraced my route back to the famous steep climb in direction of Refuge Bertone.

I passed a dozen of runners in that climb, while I definitely had no legs on the descent, I was actually enjoying the climbs, especially with the poles! Besides, it was now sunny and I had changed to my standard shorts and short sleeves Quicksilver Club top so I was resurrecting. I even passed more runner in the next two miles of that rolling section which is my preferred one of the whole course, with breath taking views of the Italian side of Mont Blanc. But… the clouds came back again and, with them, the rain… As the weather was changing, we got this amazing rain bow and I couldn’t resist stopping again to get my phone and take a few pictures, the only pictures I took during my run, or hike rather.

Looking at these pictures, you may think "Looks like quite a good weather to me" but keep in mind rainbows form in misty conditions... I was just lucky to capture a rare sun ray in the midst of the storm...

Anyway, I got cold again at Refuge Bonatti were the wind got very strong, and put my third layer on again. The next 5 kilometers down to Arnouvaz were super slow and painful and I was hoping to recharge at this main aid station before the tough climb over Grand Col Ferret and the Swiss border.

Down there, we could see the trail climbing right into a thick cloud and the volunteers and medical staff decided that it was so bad that we couldn’t leave the checkpoint without all our waterproof layers on. That said enough to me about the conditions ahead and for the next night, so much that I started contemplating dropping before the 14 grueling kilometers to La Fouly, the next aid station, not to mention the 900m of D+ and 1,100m of D-, some very technical (so technical that Jim Walmsley would lose his 2^nd place to Killian Jornet in that descent after the Col Ferret).

It took me an hour to make the tough decision as the volunteers triple checked if I was certain given I still had 6 hours before the cut-off. They cut my bib and off I was for a long journey back to Chamonix. Indeed, there had been an accident in the tunnel between Italy and France and the traffic as backing up for more than 3 kilometers through Courmayeur. The shuttle driver knew of a bypass though so we ended in Chamonix around 4 pm, which gave me a lot of time to enjoy Max’s visit rather than making him spent another sleepless night on the Swiss side. I must say at this point that I do feel bad when a race turn sour and I have a crew that I would make wait for hours.

I got to bed at 9 pm and slept for 12 hours, feeling quite good on Sunday morning, waking up to quite an amazing weather.

We went to mass then climbed to La Flégère, on the UTMB course, giving encouragements to the numerous runners finishing between 42 and 46 hours. A few had a second wind in the technical downhill while most were in much pain but determined to complete the whole loop.

I didn’t know what type of therapy that would be for me; on one hand it was quite inspirational to see all these runners making it. On the other, I wish I had done it myself, especially given the now superb and hot weather on this Sunday afternoon. What was the most uplifting however was flying down to Chamonix with Max, on the ski run which returns to the start of the telecabine.

 From the terrace of La Flégère:

 And down in the finish area where the Rotary Club was serving a nice local light beer!

Here is our run on this cool website, Relive.cc (click on the image):

I was back just in time to attend the final award ceremony recognizing all the sponsors and officials, as well as the 10 gals and guys of UTMB 2017. It actually looked strange that the ceremony was so sunny after getting this bad weather in the first 30 hours of the race. Well, not 30 hours for Francois D’Haene who killed it again this year, winning his 3^rd UTMB in 19 hours, in front of Killian Jornet and Tim Tollefson. Jim Walmsley battled so hard after La Fouly to take 5^th overall, behind Xavier Thevenard. 2 French, 2 Spaniards, 2 Americans in the top 6, what a grueling and impressive competition at the front!

2 runners managed to complete all the 15 UTMB, what another feat of regularity! Here is Didier Delemontez from France (the other runner is Anke Drescher from Germany):

I had dinner at our Chamoniard friends’, Yves and Véronique, then, thanks to Mike Kreaden’s connections, finished the day at the Grizzly bar where many ultra celebrities and champions were celebrating. Here with ultra rock stars Jamil Coury promoting his Run Steep Get High brand (center) and Topher Gaylord who used to live close by, run UTMB, represent North Face then Columbia and today, Under Armor.

Mike is right: UTMB is to ultra what Boston is to marathon running. The size of the event, the crowd, the level of competition, the number of countries represented, the organization.

Speaking of Boston, I think I’m clearly more suited to shorter distances and, certainly less technical… Here is the scoop: on Monday I got a special comp entry for Boston 2018, based on this year’s (age group)performance. While I was thinking of returning in 2019 when I’m the youngest again in the M55-59 group, this is too good to pass on, right?

As for coming back to finish UTMB? Never say never —as we say!—but I don’t think so. Actually, I’m tempted by the TDS instead (Tour des Ducs de Savoie), I’ll check that one closely (I should have enough ITRA points by this December to by pass the lottery again). At least, I have all the mandatory equipment now, and the qualifying points, so better put all that to good use.

As I write this report on the TGV to Paris, I still can’t exactly explain what happened this weekend and why I decided to call it a day, as opposed to pulling my guts together to go over the bad hump. Although my main and officially only goal was to finish no matter what, there is still my competitive side which prevents me to run my own race when passed by hundreds of competitors. I did fear the size of the event but I must say everything was going smooth on the organization side, very impressive. Yet, I was really annoyed that, every time I was slowing down, I had someone getting right behind me and had to stop to be passed. I’m used to races where I don’t see another runner for 15 or 30 kilometers, well not UTMB! I also didn’t feel like imposing 2 sleepless nights on Max but, more importantly, my body and mind were way too weak to surmount these weather conditions. Also, despite the pride of having been the oldest among the elite ranks, I’m sad to realize it was likely the last time, I have to get the wisdom to accept aging. Or maturing… ;-) Hard to swallow overall but it’s not my first DNF (my 11th out of 147 ultra races), I’ll be ok if not already (well, I got a cold over this, my first of the year, finally, and in the summer!).

Maybe the hardest to swallow is that there had been so many stars aligning this time: I was very well prepared, well trained although maybe on the over side, I had a great crew, an ideal start albeit maybe too fast of a one eventually, no GI issue, able to eat and drink according to the plan although I might have enjoyed too much soup after all. Just that darn cold and wet weather which I couldn't bear for so many hours... And too many conflicting goals battling in my mind.

My GU Energy and Vespa Power arsenal at the start:

I am going to close this post by stating how much respect I have for all those who finished, from the amazing performance at the top to those who kept moving on this terrain and in this weather for up to 46 hours. I feel like what we experienced this weekend is like another sport, not the ultra running we have in California on smooth trails. Despite having run several 100-milers or even longer distances at 24-hour events, I still have to run for more than 24 hours myself. This is the thing with ultra running: there is no limit in its definition: anything longer than a marathon. The only limit is yours… And I found mine once again last weekend, thanks to getting the guts, and the privilege, to toe this prestigious start line on Friday. As always, and like every ultra runner, I’ll be back! Thinking and dreaming of TDS now, this is a addictive drug... ;-)

PS: more bonus pictures...

From the award ceremony, highlighting my fellow Americans in particular, way to represent among the top 10 with an odd series: Zach Miller, 9th, Dylan Bowman, 7th, Jim Walmsley, 5th and Tim Tollefson, 3rd.

The no-less impressive girls podium:

And the race founders and co-directors, Michel and Catherine Poletti:

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