Chasing Dreams around Mont Blanc
11 years ago, before I had ever run a race, I watched in awe as runners set out from Chamonix to circumnavigate Mont Blanc in one stage. It was a foot race called The Ultra Trail du Mont Blanc, then in only it’s second year. How was it humanly possible to do that - 4 marathons long, with an ascent equivalent to Everest? From that simple question grew an obsession. I wanted to know if I could do it. Could I run round Mont Blanc in one go?
Pomp and Ceremony
Chamonix - Les Houches
The explosion of noise is incredible as the countdown to the start reaches zero, Vangelis’ Conquest of Paradise booms out of the PA, the crowd scream, and cowbells ring. For a race celebrating trail running in nature the scale, pomp and ceremony seem totally out of place, but for UTMB, it works. Two thousand six hundred runners slowly move through the start line on the first few paces of our epic journey which will take us through 3 countries, over nearly 10,000m of climbing for 170km, to get back to exactly where we started - Chamonix.
The crowd urging you on, the freedom to run out of the start line after all those months of training, the stirring music pump up the adrenaline, but I tried to keep it steady - km 1 of a 170km race is no time for heroics ! The enthusiastic crowds continued for the 10km to Les Houches, and even on the first climb up to the Col de Voza, people lined the way, shouting encouragement “Allez, Allez”, “Courage”, “Bravo” and ringing cow bells. The atmosphere is like no other trail race, or race of any kind that I have even known, including the other UTMB races (the CCC or TDS) - it is uniquely special.
Sensory overload & Scolding Soup in St Gervais
13km +900m Col de Voza - Saint Gervais - Les Contamines
For me dusk came as I finished the first climb to Delevert, with the Chaine d’Aravis & the Chaine de Fiz stretched before me, tinted orange by the setting sun. The crazy, chaotic noise of the start now behind us, just the light tap of feet and poles on trail. The track dipped down and we started the steep descent to St Gervais - home turf for me.
As we approached the valley floor the sound of the PA and cheering drifted up to meet us, getting louder with every step towards the valley, until a set of steps spit you abruptly out into the main square of Saint Gervais in an explosion of noise and light. My family are directly in front as I emerge and I give them a hug before the loop round into the check point, familiar faces emerging and shouting encouragement out of the dark. It is overwhelming, almost too much for the senses after the peace up on the hill but welcome never the less. In the mellay I grab a bowl of soup and take a glug, only to discover it is boiling hot, burning my mouth and throat. My name is shouted from several places at once - my friends daughter serving fruit, friends in the crowd, it’s star treatment.
Running out of Saint Gervais I’m accompanied by my children and some of their friends, before again it is all behind me and I’m back in the quite of my local trails at night. I’ve ran thousands of kilometres along these trails, and know them very well and so I have only the lightest of torches for this section. I don’t really need it. But something is wrong - I’m slow and sluggish and my stomach feels awful. I don’t know what is wrong, I’m barely 20km into this race and already feeling bad. I have never had this feeling before, not really sickness or hunger, but a strange painful pit. I feel bad in other ways - head just odd, not with it - slow and no energy. I eventually realise that it is probably my body going into shock after having burnt my mouth and throat in St Gervais. I can’t believe I made such a stupid mistake, but I have to somehow keep going - there will always be big downs, they just have to be over come somehow.
Arriving in Les Contamines i’m feeling very low, because I still feel bad. This is no joke - I have only done 30km and I have over 140km still to do ! At least I get to see my family before I set off into the mountains for the night. I meet them and they give me everything I need for the night - better head torches, a warm base layer and gillet, and extra food, not forgetting the amazing home made samosas Tracey had concocted and of course hugs and smiles. It was a longer stop than intended but I felt much better.
Into the night & friends in high places
39km +2000m La Balme - Col du Bonhomme - Le Chapeux
The night was warm and the climb up the Roman road in the dark was pleasant, and fairly easy. The horrible pit in my stomach had gone, to be replaced by the more familiar vague hunger pangs, which I could cope with by nibbling nuts. The approach to the Refuge de la Balme check point was marked by fairy lights for the last couple of hundred meters, adding to the slightly surreal fairytale quality of this night ascent into the mountains.
A niggling tummy that I just couldn’t satisfy and fear of the very early low point was what I remember about this section, despite the amazing trail that this climb up to the Col du Bonhomme is. Well after midnight we crested the col at 2325m. The next section I remembered from my recce a couple of weeks ago was quite awkward to both find and scramble over - and that was in daylight. As it happened I covered the ground quicker at night, with the course markers easy to see from the light of the head torch.
The Refuge de Croix de la Bonhomme appeared, and I knew my friend Simon was manning the checkpoint. It really gave me a lift to see and have a chat with someone i knew at 2:30am nearly 45km and 9 hours into the race. I offloaded my worries, before heading off for the short descent to Les Chapeaux. It went easily and it finally shook off the stomach issues.
Trails of light throughout the moonlit night.
49km +2823m Les Chapieux - Col de la Seigne - Courmayeur
Despondency set in at Les Chapieux checkpoint, despite the descent feeling good and things looking up digestion wise. It was the magnitude of what I still had to do, and what I had already gone through which set it off. At nearly 50km down I still had over 120km to do - at 3am this just seemed too huge to contemplate. I realised that I had to enjoy the run for what it was, and to take each part a little at a time. This was the only way I would have the mental strength to keep going through the doubts.
The moon rises above the line of head torches
With all thoughts of my time plan out of the window I set off determined to enjoy the race. Although the next 5k where on tarmac, the road wound it’s way up the incredibly rugged valley to “La Ville des Glaciers”. Huge boulders towered over the road, which was forced to manoeuvre around them. The mountains and glaciers glowed above in the light of the full moon, and stars filled the sky. A constant line of little lights followed me up the road, and ahead the same up towards the Col de la Seigne. I couldn’t help but smile for most of the way, emotions getting the better of me at times and being overwhelmed by the sheer beauty and magnificence of raw nature in the middle of the night.
It could not have been a more beautiful night - a light warm wind blew as I hiked up the thousand or so meter to the Co de la Seigne. It was peaceful and quite - the thousand little lights that stretched ahead of me and behind making almost no noise, bar the soft sound of breathing and gentle foot falls. I may have been surrounded by people but it felt like I travelled the trail alone.
The new day dawned in spectacular colour as I started another climb to the Col des Pyramides de Calcaires after a couple of hundred meters of descent from the Col de la Seigne. I was now in Italy, and looking far ahead, down the Val Veny, then the Italian Val Ferret you could vaguely make out where the Grand Col de Ferret would be, where we would step into Switzerland sometime towards dusk much later today, and where the leaders had already passed!
Looking down the Val Veny towards Cormayeur
With the light brings new hope, but light can also illuminate problems. I was still moving well, each step closer to my goal of finishing, but it was apparent that I was way behind schedule, and doubts about how I could finish this monumental task started to set in again. The essence of ultra running seems to be the ability to push negative thought out of your mind, and just keep going. Again I concentrated on the amazing surrounding to do this.
The south side of Mont Blanc is magnificent and this stretch down the flanks of the Val Veny give amazing views up the Miage and Brenva glacier towards Mont Blanc itself. A final super steep single track descent brings us back to civilisation in the streets of Courmayeur to applause, cheering and cow bells and the only place where you are allowed a drop bag.
Courmayeur, sorting equipment and mind
79km +4500m Still 90km to go and haven’t done half yet.
The raw numbers never look good. 79km & 4500m of ascent done which should be enough to cheer anyone, but that means I still have 90km to go. Never look at the big picture - it’s just too big. It was a terrible stop. I faffed around without any real plan. Almost eating, almost changing, almost making decisions of what to take, but never quite getting there. After an hour I just had to go whatever.
From chasing dreams to chasing imaginary cutoffs
Courmayeur - Arnuva - Grand Col de Ferret - Champex
It was half way up the climb to the Bertone refuge, moving with not much enthusiasm that several things came into sharp focus for me. Firstly, I really had enjoyed the first part of this run, despite the inevitable ups and downs of an Ultra Marathon, and I really wanted to be able to finish the dream that I had started. Second, it was much later than I had expected it to be at this point and I was nowhere near my time plan (optimistic aspiration though it was). Thirdly, given that the time was now towards 1pm, there where perhaps 4 hours at least until Arnuva checkpoint, I felt that I was uncomfortably close to the cutoff.
I made a pact with myself there and then to complete this thing, and continued my upward progress with renewed energy, while at the same time worrying that I would be chasing the cutoffs from now on.
As it happens, the cutoff was a lot later than I thought, but the feeling of panic about being timed out never really left me from that point on. Bertone refuge to Arnurva via the Bonatti refuge is a lovely rolling traverse, with the southern flanc of the Mont Blanc range, from the Grand Jurasses to Mont Dolent always on our left. It was very hot, being in the middle of the day, but I didn’t really notice, until at the Bonatti refuge one of the helpers said to be careful with sunscreen for the ascent to the Grand Col du Ferret as the sun will be on our back for the whole way. Having no sun screen with me I adapted my buff to guard my neck and put on my calf compression guards to keep those covered.
The Grand Col de Ferret is pretty much the highest point of the whole course and I know a lot of people don’t enjoy that climb at all. From my previous ascents (on the CCC) I actually rather like it! It’s in a magnificent position in the high mountains, and I always think it seems to go much quicker than I expect. It also means that after it’s finished we step into Switzerland and there is close on 30km of downhill! Its the short climb up to Champex which always gets me - however much I prepare myself it is always a sting in the tail, and this year was no exception. By the time I arrived at Champex I was stumbling around, half blind and convinced that this was the end on my UTMB attempt.
10 Minutes kip at Champex
Visual contortions and reality
Into the Second night.
I wake up with a start as my foot hits the ground, struggling to regain balance and trying to work out what has just happened. I just fell asleep mid stride while hiking somewhere up a mountainside !
It’s now deep into the second night of continuous motion. Two nights without sleep is starting to take its toll and my mind is starting to do it’s own thing. I don’t feel tired as such - I’ve felt much worse on other ultra’s, sometimes desperately tired wanting nothing more than to lay down and sleep there and then.
I’ve passed numerous runners sitting by the side of the trail at a table with a spread of food before them, which I watched with a certain amount of longing - that, certainly can’t be real.
I’ve stepped over so many feet on the trail - it looks like these folk have just keeled over where they stopped and lay down for a rest. Sometime life is stranger than imagination, and this is real.
Stopping for a break my local horizon suddenly switches by 20 degree - I don’t even feel unbalanced, just bemused my the visual effect. I spend another few minutes observing how a long blade of grass seems to be totally in the wrong perspective - as if someone has drawn it wrong. This is definitely not real.
To make matters worse I’ve had double vision since night fell for the second time on this run on the climb up to Champex. This is bad enough while going up - trying to guess which rock is the ‘real’ one while climbing up the technical and difficult Bovine climb. The descents though are a total nightmare. I’m normally good on the descents so had taken extra care over my lighting to ensure good speed, but I can barely see, and the bright torch almost makes matters worse. As I go to plant my foot, the perspective will suddenly change and I realise that the rock I’m about to step on is 10cm further aheads.
After many hours of struggling with my vision I realise the best way to overcome the problem is to close one eye just before I make a step. It’s a fairly uncomfortable way to progress and totally messes up my depth perception, but at least I don’t keep missing my step.
Friends in low places
124km +7200m Champex - Bovine - Trient - Catogne - Vallorcine
From Champex on my friend Andy had very kindly volunteered to meet me at each checkpoint with food, spare clothing and words of encouragement. Each of these checkpoints where in the villages in the valleys in between the big climbs, so mentally it was fantastic to know that after each climb and descent there would be someone there to help out, and more importantly make sure I left the checkpoint.
On more than one occasion up in the high mountains I was convinced I’d have to quit, the mind trying desperately to convince you that you really should stop, but on arriving at the checkpoint there was no question of that happening with the calm support of Andy there to nudge me back out and on my way.
It’s hard to describe what a difference that made. Checkpoints can be a nightmare on these long runs. The warmth, a chair to sit on and a spread of food to eat all conspire to keep you there longer and longer until the thought of leaving becomes almost unbearable.
The descent down from the high point at Bovine into Trient had been another double vision induced horror show demanding huge amounts of concentration to avoid taking a massive tumble into oblivion on the stupidly steep trail. I arrived in high spirits in Trient at around 4:30am despite the difficulties, probably because I’d managed to get down in one piece ! I was met again by Andy and we set about sorting out new food and bits of clothing that would make the next stage more comfortable. I must have looked like i would fall asleep any minute as, unprompted, he came back with a large coffee with as many sugars as he could grab mixed in. It was just what I needed and I felt much more awake straight away.
Dawn over the Col de Forclaz from the climb up to Catogne.
The next climb, up over Catogne once again took me back into the light of dawn, and back into France and meant there was just one big climb left. With the descent into Vallorcine in daylight I thought that I’d be able to see properly again and put in some good speed at last, but I was wrong. The double vision persisted, and made the run down much slower than I wanted. Every time I approached an obstacle on the trail I had to shut one eye, to make sure I was seeing it properly - I don’t know how many people thought I was winking at them !
With it now firmly daylight, I made a pretty quick stop, checked with Andy for about the 3rd time what the cutoff was for La Tete aux vents before setting off for the final leg of this epic journey. I felt buoyed by the realisation that, baring any disasters, I would make it back to Chamonix before the cutoff, and so complete the dream I’d held onto for so long. The gentle ascent to the Col de Montets flew past and I was soon on the final brutal sting in the tail 900m climb. It is not an easy climb - It’s steep with big step ups, and after 9,000m of climbing done already over 154km it can be the final blow that finishes off your legs. I felt remarkably good - the legs working fine, and although I was hardly fast I still felt it was a good steady pace.
9779m of climbing done - it’s all down hill from now.
158km +9780m La Tête aux vents - Chamonix
With the whole southern flank of Mont Blanc stretched out before us I arrived at the top of the last big climb with a huge smile and a feeling of accomplishment and relief. I was still several hours from the finish line but it felt like this was the final obstacle over and I could not fail to finish now.
The traverse over to La Flégère, which should have been a good speedy sections for me even this late into the race, proved more difficult than I had both remembered and anticipated, as I was still badly affected by double vision, and most of this section consisted of boulder hopping! The progress might have been slow but the situation was magnificent and the day was warm and pleasant.
Trail runners are generally friendly people, but early on in a long ultra most have too much on their mind for idle chatter. At this point in the trail, nearing the end on a 40+ hour adventure everyone was in a chatty and buoyant mood. Amongst others I spoke to Brits living in Spain, a guy from Singapore who said it was as hot and humid here as it was at home and a Spanish guy who lived in the Uk.
Past la Flégère and it was now all downhill, and my pace subconsciously increased as I headed for the finish line. Half way down this long descent I met my running friend Sarah who had not only driven over to Switzerland to see me into La Fouley but had now hiked half way up the last descent to run back into Chamonix with me! Further down I met Simon (who I’d last seen on the Col de Croix de Bonhomme) and his family who had also climbed up to meet me. Such a wonderful feeling to think that I have that support from my friends.
The final kilometre winds it’s way through Chamonix centre, through streets lined with cheering people. We are more than 20 hours after the leaders finished but the enthusiasm of the crowds is unabated.
I cross the finish line, hand in hand with my 9 year old son, 44 Hours and 22 minutes after leaving the same place, the dream of running round Mont Blanc finally fulfilled. There is no outpouring of emotion, no surge of excitement, no punching the air in victory, just an amazing feeling of contentment.
Its a good hour of standing and chatting to friends, while drinking Champaign kindly brought by Brendon & Miranda before I realise I could actually now sit down and take the weight off my feet ! The human body is an extraordinary thing - capable of so much more than you can imagine, especially with the encouragement of friends and family to help it along the way.
In two paragraphs
I was no where near the time I would have liked, or even the time I expected but more important than that is that I loved almost every minute of the 44 hours and 22 minutes that I spent circumnavigating Mont Blanc. I had dreamt of this run for years and I did not want to end up on a “Death March” to the end, and I didn’t want to finish it having hated it.
For me it ranks as the most beautiful foot race I’ve ever done. Although I live in the shadow of Mont Blanc the backdrop of the mountains never ceases to surprise and amaze me - it is truly nature at it’s most spectacular and beautiful. I hope all those that set out on this journey appreciate that and realise that this is far more than just a Trail Race, it is a journey in it’s own right to be enjoyed for every one of it’s 169kms.
