From Andrew Merrick…
For the 7th year in the last eight, I came out to the alps in August to either support or take part in the UTMB week of races – the atmosphere in Chamonix remains as special as ever.
Having earned some stones last July, I spent them successfully entering the CCC, which largely follows the route of the last 2/3 of the full UTMB course – 100km and 6000m of ascent.
There were a number of contrasts to last year’s Chamonix experience, during which I did the TDS in the early part of the week. The CCC starts, as UTMB, on the Friday – this time the bus to the start in Courmayeur was painless (my daughter kindly got up early to drive me into Chamonix), and we arrived almost 2 hours before the start of the race, after a very straightforward passage through the Mont Blanc tunnel. I was glad I had booked a later bus, since two hours was more than enough time for pre-race faffing. Despite the gang planning to meet me at the end of the race, I took a drop bag with me so I had access to warm clothes, none of which I needed. The one light, wicking layer I wore to the start was enough for the entire race – I don’t recall it actually being dry at any time after we had started…. [Last year I peaked at 4 layers and two pairs of gloves, a hat and a hood].
I was due to set off at 9:15 am at the front of the second wave, which gave me to meet Ed, the first of four fellow Brits from the Southampton area… I always find it reassuring to compare notes before the start. We had been warned about the bottleneck once we hit single file on the long (1400m ascent) climb out of Courmayeur, and there was a clear sense of people moving pretty quickly from the start to minimise the queue time. I joined in with this which resulted in only a 5 min wait or so, although there were a number of other stationary moments on the way up to the first peak at Tete de la Tronche, with some fabulous views on the way up to one of the two high spots on the course (and actually a higher climb out of Courmayeur than on UTMB) – a solid 6 miles of climb to start the race! This was followed by in places a dusty descent down to the first Check Point at Refuge Bertone, not quite 3 miles further on. I had planned to deploy the Petra technique of faff minimisation at all of the seven CPs so I was quickly on my way after refilling my bottles and grabbing a bit of water melon. There is then a relatively flat/undulating section most of the way to the second CP 16.5 miles in at Arnouvaz. It was on the way down the steepish descent into here that I started to feel some leg cramp developing in both inner quads.
I decided it was just too warm for some salty bouillon so stuck with the quick refuelling plan and back out for the long climb out of Italy to the top of the grand col ferret. The route was still pretty busy at this stage, so I just tried to sit in behind people going at a similar pace and conserve energy as much as possible, chatting when the opportunity arose. I should have taken some more water with me for this climb in the warmth of the afternoon – I was right to recall there was no water at the top, so I took a few minutes to sit down prior to the lengthy 6 mile descent into La Fouly. It was on this descent that my legs were getting pretty cross with the world, and I found the only safe thing to do was to march rather than run, the straighter legged approach reducing the cramp risk, although i did still have to stop a few times on the side of the track to stretch out and swear a bit. Happily there was a water stop a couple of miles down from the summit, which allowed a full bottle refill, before limping my way down to the first Swiss CP. At this point, despite the temperatures – still at least mid 20s – I decided I had to go the bouillon route to help with salt intake plus a little cheese (hard to digest with a dry mouth), which I nibbled at on the way to Champex – a lovely small Swiss town at the end of our third climb marking the half way point. Happily the first half of this section is pretty flat which gave my legs a bit of a break; even more happily, I was passed by Ed who I had been chatting to at the start, we ran together for a little while and in response to my answer as to how it was going “it would be better without the cramp”, he very kindly gave me 3 salt tablets. I took one immediately and he also said his wife would be at Champex and might have some more. The second half of the route to Champex is a climb up through the trees, at which point I bumped into Dick Jones again, who had also been having cramp issues, albeit his were more uphill than downhill. We stuck together for a lot of the climb until he had to stop to sort his uphill cramp and I carried on in reasonable spirits to Champex.
The CP here was very warm and very rammed – the supporter buses had sold out months ago – I forced some soup down, took a second salt tablet washed down with coke, grabbed a small lump of cheese, and got out of there, recognising there was no way I would be able to spot Ed or his wife. In an outbreak of incompetence I had forgotten to get my head torch out of my back pack at Champex so stopped relatively soon afterwards as we hit the trees again.
I had reasonable experience of the remaining three legs, all three of which feature a messy climb and a longer and gnarlier than you think descent, particularly on the first two. I refuelled again at every opportunity on the next section (a lot of French villages have running water points, which are very welcome in these temperatures), and fell into a reasonable rhythm for most of the next (800m) ascent occasionally overtaking slower competitors, and sticking with the plan of never stopping on a climb. Dick and I compared notes again a few times, at various points – he was always quicker than me downhill – and we eventually made it to the top of climb 4 (out of 6). Not long after the top, the route, slightly randomly, takes you through a barn, where they were serving water and coffee. I passed on the coffee but topped up my bottles again, getting close to not liking the taste of my Tailwind anymore! I had remembered that the descent into Trient (or Trent as it is now known after my daughter Sophie’s failed attempts to get there) was more technical than you really need at the bottom and longer than you need it to be. I was struggling to refuel with solids properly at this point having been quite disciplined with my 45 min timer on my watch for most of the race. I put two shotbloks into my mouth at one point on this leg, and at least one was still left when the next 45 min timer went off…… I had a simple plan at Trient – to get out as quickly possible – I knew if I got out of there I would make it to Vallorcine, and I knew if I made it to Vallorcine, I would definitely finish. I couldn’t face any soup, so I just put water in my bottles, took my remaining salt tablet, ignored the “take 1.5 litres with you” advice, and headed out around about midnight for our first French CP, where I knew Petra would be kindly waiting.
After an initial flat mile or so, the track climbs quite steeply (another 800m+ climb) so I settled in behind a woman wearing a blue mountain marathon clinic top (the only thing I knew about her), remembering there would be a fire burning and a couple of marshals most of the way up, although the post brazier climb was longer than I recalled. We eventually topped out, and I continued to largely follow BMMC woman for most of the descent thanking her for her steady pace, as we eventually got down to the wide ski track near Vallorcine. At this point I saw Dick again and we reminded ourselves that this track was short-lived before diving off on a gnarly track through the woods, eventually coming out close to the CP although a detour was required to cross the railway line and circumnavigate at least three sides of the marquee.
As expected, Petra was there with more salt tablets, the requested bottle of smoothie (I drank half) and some frozen sliced banana in a bag. After a further glass of coke, we agreed I had run out of excuses to sit there, and left at about 3:15am, thinking it was about 4 hours to the finish from there.
I set off, feeling like the route to Col des Montets was more uphill than I had remembered. It was as close as I got to cool all day, even by the river in Vallorcine, I still had the joys of a very clammy top…
After a brief stop to change torch battery, I was ready for the final climb (in two parts). I had seen BMMC woman again on the first part but concluded it was time to push on a bit more quickly
Petra had mentioned to me previously that the route from here was different to my UTMB experience, climbing half way to Flegere before dropping down and then resuming a climb. I had consciously reccied it in the week before the race, but on tired legs the descent from the mid peak at Bechar was even more unpleasant than I had remembered it, and there was swearing from a number of us as we battled to stay upright. Finally I emerged from the downhill pain and celebrated with some disintegrating frozen banana, before the final final climb, initially reasonably level, before a series of steep switch backs accessed into a ski slope and a climb up a red run to the final CP at Flegere. I felt I had worked quite hard on this leg and was a little disappointed to see it had taken me over 3 hours to manage the 7 miles (almost 1000m) to Flegere. As is traditional I had some coke (2 ½ cups) although my mouth was still too dry to deal with the equally traditional celebratory chocolate cookie, most of which ended up in the bin.
Sticking with the no faff plan, I set out on the final descent as dawn was breaking, giving a beautiful view of the mountains, although the top half is very rooty and requires full concentration to stay upright. I actually got to the Floria refuge, which signals the start of easier terrain, a little quicker than I expected, so decided to celebrate by running most of the rest of the wide gravelly downhill track to the road on the outskirts of Chamonix, safe in the knowledge that if I cramped up again here, I would find a way….. As planned, Sophie (complete with goat bell – smaller than the cow variety) was waiting for me at the temporary bridge. The runner in front of me decided to dispense with the bridge, so I followed and then had the joy of running in with Soph to the finish around 7:30 on a Saturday morning, marred only by her full length trip – I realised something was amiss when her phone overtook me…. I was searching my conscience when I heard her shout keep going, so I carried on running to the finish, where Petra and my ski friend Em were waiting, with Sophie not far behind with a hole in her knee and jacket.
I was happy to finish and come out the other end of the cramping issues, and to have now finished all three of the longer UTMB solo races. Despite the hydration challenges, I definitely preferred this year’s warmth and dry terrain to last year’s cold and slippery version. Cold beer can taste very good at 8am on a Saturday morning.
[For those interested, I went with my Hoka Mafate 4s and was happy with my choice]