80km du Mont Blanc, 6000m ascent
14:58, 50th/1000
Race highlights here, courtesy of Marathon du Mont-Blanc
Race photos here, on competitor.com
| Error #1: Can't even put a temporary tattoo on properly! |
It's frustrating to still feel like I'm making the same mistakes in races. At the same time, I'm making each 'A' race I do another big leap out of my comfort zone; I'm not making these mistakes at a 50km distance, where there is less time available to make these mistakes and you're more in control of your race. It just means the 100 mile distance is probably still a little way off, at least one of similar elevation profile.
This race report basically reads as a list of ultra running cliches- mostly a list of don'ts, so apologies for the lack of original content. I'm still on a big learning curve, I guess...
1. Prepare for the weather
The weather going into the race was unpredictable- there was still plenty of snow on high ground, forcing a route change in the days leading up to the race- the highest climb to 2645m was shortened and we instead dropped back down to the valley floor and then back up to Emosson. That might make the race seem a little easier, but more on that later...
Driving through France in the preceding week however, the weather was noticeably improving as we travelled south. By the Tuesday, when we were camping at Lake Annecy, the weather was in the 30s, and by the time we arrived in Chamonix, it was more than that, with a similar forecast for race day. This promised two things; 1) clear blue skies, great sunrise, incredible views and 2) a huge amount of suffering in the heat. I know I don't fare that well in the heat, as proven at the Kathmandu Valley 50km in March; having originally been disappointed at the prospect of a wet and cloudy day, walking around Chamonix at 5pm the day before the race when it was 33 degrees made me change my mind.
2. Manage Expectations
This was my first European race, with all the fanfare and the big crowds. Knowing that the first climb was pretty much immediate and on narrow switchbacks, I wanted to make sure I didn't get caught up at the back. It was a 2.30am wake up call to drive from our apartment in Les Houches to the start line. I placed myself in and amongst the first 100 or so, comfortably mixed in with the crowd away from the very front (but still standing out at 6'4").
With it being my biggest ultra to date, I'd no idea how I'd do in the competitive side of it. My tune up races in the UK had been a win at a marathon in the Brecon Beacons, and a 3rd place at the Keswick Mountain Festival 50km, behind Donnie Campbell, who was top 10 at this race last year-I was a long way behind him though, so was under no pretences of doing something similar. Studying previous results, I did think I was capable of a top 30 finish, however. I like to have 5 aims going into a race, on a scale of one aim being to have the dream race, and the last aim being to just finish the damn thing. For this race, those aims were (in either ascending or descending order)...
1. Finish it
2. Top 100
3. Top 50
4. Top 30
5. Top 20
I knew I wasn't realistically capable of top 20. But you need something to chase after, and that was it. As it is, my day was so miserable for large parts that it all became about just finishing, so the pre-race plan that the racing only starts in the last ten miles went out of the window, for me anyway. I hovered around the top 50 all day, finding myself maybe 40th or so at the last checkpoint at mile 43ish. In my ideal race, this was where I would make up places, on the final climb and the steep descent, but as it was I was the one being caught, largely thanks to blown out quads. Just to prove I wasn't completely done in though, I managed to find some (relative) speed running through town to claim back two places from the 7 or 8 I'd lost to sneak 50th place. Imagine the end of a race in slow motion, where a runner comes from the back on the home straight to take the win, and that's what it looked like. Except that slow motion wasn't a special effect! And it definitely wasn't a win.
3. Expect the pain.
This was the first ultra I've done where I really experienced what it's like to bounce back from incredible suffering to feeling good within the space of a few miles. As a result of the brutal course, the heat, and this being the longest race I'd done by a fair few hours.,I started feeling bad a lot earlier than I've done before, comfortably before the half way point. The altered route basically meant we had 6 rather than 5 big climbs, the extra one being an ascent to the dam, rather than arriving at it on a descent. This ascent lacked tree cover, with the temperature already soaring, and on technical trail that made it hard to get a rhythm going. Basically, it broke me; my pace slowed right down, I kept stopping at streams to cool down, and I couldn't see how I could keep going when I felt so exhausted after just 5 hours. I got passed by so many people (including some day hikers!) that I was honestly ready to give it up at the next check point. However, as I said, this was where I truly learnt the lesson of ultras. I phoned my girlfriend Chloe, desperately ready to throw in the towel. She convinced me to keep going to the aid station at the top and then she would meet me at the checkpoint back in the valley- as she pointed out, I had a bit of downhill coming up. I'm pretty sure that without Chloe's intervention, I'd have stopped. She gave me the determination to keep going and the belief that I could get through this.Eventually, by the time I had got back to the valley floor, I knew I wanted to carry on. I still didn't feel great, but I'd cooled down, my legs were in good shape and there was no physical reason to stop. Chloe then arranged to meet me at the aid station at Les Bois at mile 40ish- I knew if I got there I wouldn't give up with 10 miles to go.
4. Accept the pain. Embrace the pain.
By the 4th climb, around the halfway mark, I'd got my head fixed and was back in the game. At this point, a bit of pre-race motivation came back to me. I'd watched Billy Yang's film Mont Blanc, and remembered something US elite David Laney said which resonated with me, "you have to have apathy towards pain, accept that this is going to be terrible, for three hours or ten hours or whatever...and just don't care anymore". It took me a while to get my head in the right frame of mind, but by that climb at 45km I had good rhythm going up, slow but purposeful, and was repeating to myself, "It's going to hurt. It will end". At this point, with the race not going according to the "dream" plan, this acceptance of the suffering managed to improve my frame of mind.
5. Make the race manageable.
-One thing I know I didn't do in this race was break it up into small chunks. I didn't prepare properly on that front, mainly because I had no course knowledge- in my last 50 miler, I estimated my time to each check point to within 5-15 minutes accuracy, and had broken down the race into small sections and carried that with me on a piece of paper in my race vest- in hindsight, I don't really know why I didn't do this, as it makes such a difference mentally.
6. Don't waste time in aid stations.
It's easy to fall into a trap of spending a few minutes longer than needed here and there at aid stations, and find that you've added excessive time onto your race. Obviously, the flip side of this is that if you don't spend enough time in them, you might not keep on top of nutrition and hydration. I'm normally through them as efficiently as possible. At this race, my time spent at aid stations added probably 90 minutes on to my finish time, but it also meant that I had a finish time. I needed them, to get out of the heat, cool down, and get myself in the frame of mind to keep going. If I really felt like I was "racing", I'd have been kicking myself for wasted time, but every second at checkpoints was vital to getting me through the day, so I can't really see it as time wasted.
7. Enjoy it.
At some point, you find yourself asking why you're doing this. I worked out a while ago that to feel like this at 2.30 am, or whatever stupid time you have to get up, that feeling this is normal, and I always know that by the end of a race, no matter how miserable some of it felt, I'm glad I did it. This race was slightly different in that the suffering came earlier and lasted longer than it has previously. Did I enjoy it? Yes. Did I enjoy all of it? No! But it's a 50 mile plus ultramarathon, 18,000 feet of climbing, 35 degree heat. Minimum 11 hours on feet, even for the sharp end. It's never going to be 100% enjoyable. But I got from this race what I wanted- a huge challenge, mind blowing scenery, a brilliant atmosphere at both start and finish, and overall a fantastic experience.
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