Well its been almost 2 years since I last wrote a blog and lots has changed in my life, yet running wise I somehow find myself in a similar situation to 2 years ago… feeling in somewhat of an anti-climax post UTMB, having had an incredible summer in the mountains, and with an injured right knee.
This summer, 2 years on I returned to Chamonix to take on UTMB again. 2 years ago, I completed the race, placing 18th – but the route was changed and shortened due to some pretty nasty weather conditions, and we didn’t complete the ‘proper’ course, plus I had a terrible race – so I had unfinished business.
Pre-UTMB
I headed out to the Alps a week and a half ahead of the race, and was met at Geneva airport by my boyfriend Ed. We had decided to hike the Tour de Mont Blanc together, as Ed was intrigued by my raving about how beautiful the course was, so wanted to see what all of the fuss was about. This suited me just fine, as I figured it would be a great way to acclimatize for the race.
So we set off on Saturday afternoon armed with our new lightweight tent and backpacks full of food and sleeping bags. In search of adventure, we decided to wild camp our way around the route rather than staying in the wonderful but somewhat expensive mountain huts around the tour.
Never ones to make life easy, we decided to try and hike the route in 5 days (most people tend to do it in 10). 20 miles a day may not sound like much, but when you’re also ascending and descending 2000m+, it takes a while, and we were hiking long days. After a quick breakfast, we would usually set off around 8am and often didn’t pitch up our tent again until 8pm, just in time for a quick dinner on our camp stove before dark. I have to say I loved every minute, sharing the trails with Ed, with nothing to worry about except which path to follow and what to eat. It was a very welcome break from what has been a busy and stressful year at work for us both. So 5 days later, having hiked our way over 105 miles and 3 countries, we returned (stinking and ravenous!) to Chamonix.
With another 6 days to fill before the race, we decided to squeeze in a bit of high mountain climbing, and signed up to join a 4 day Introductory Mountaineering course with Moran Mountain. This was based in Switzerland in the Arolla Valley, which was a great excuse to explore some new alpine trails. The weather looked good for the first two days of our course so we headed off on a two day expedition into the high mountains, learning about glacier crossings and walking in crampons, how to rope up safely, and what to do if you fall down a crevasse! We stayed a night in the Vignettes hut, perched precariously on the edge of a cliff – sharing bunks with 10 others, and eating breakfast at 5:30am before heading up the beautiful peak of L’Eveque (3800m). I loved being up that high, the views, the risk, the isolation, the challenge – I just wanted more and more. Luckily we got another good weather window and also climbed our first 4000m peak, the Alallinhorn near to Saas Fe. After a fantastic and peaceful 4 days we then headed back to the buzzing pre-UTMB Chamonix to prepare for the race.
The Race
After an anxious Friday I finally lined up on the start line at UTMB – I had been given an elite bib, so started in the elite pen at the front of the race. This is great as it means you don’t need to get to the line early, and don’t get stuck behind lots of slow runners, but it also makes me nervous lining up alongside the likes of Nuria Picas and Rory Bosio! 5:30pm and the countdown to the race start began, it was pouring with rain as we set-off through the streets of Chamonix and the atmosphere was typically electric – there really is nothing like it. An air of excitement and trepidation in the runners and awe and admiration from the crowds. It makes it extremely hard to set off at a sensible pace, but I tried my best to take things slow and steady over the first section of the race, St Gervais came and went, Les Contamines, Notre Dame and all was going well until the descent from Col du Bonhomme to Les Chapeaux when my right knee started to hurt, first a little and then a lot. I’m not sure what exactly I did to it, but I suspect that during one of my slips and slides down the muddy, wet descents I managed to tweak something which sent my kneecap out of alignment and resulted in it rubbing bone on bone. I was frustrated, because aside from the knee, I felt strong, my stomach was holding up, and I felt great on the climbs, however with every descent the pain in my knee was becoming increasingly agonising and by the time I reached Courmayer (approx. 80km) I had been reduced to a hobble on the downhill sections.
After a short re-fuel at Courmayer I continued on, hoping the knee pain would ease or at least stabilise and I had a pretty strong run up to Refuge Bertone and traverse along to Refuge Bonatti, the uphills and flats were going well and I was still picking up plenty of places and moving my way through the field (I think I was about 15th female by the time I reached Bonatti). However when we had to descend to Arnuva – I really started to struggle with the pain, I began to feel quite nauseous and light-headed, things were definitely getting worse, and it was here I started to have doubts about my ability to finish the race. From Arnuva – its a long climb up to the highest point on the course, Grand Col Ferret at 100km. I made it up here ok (in around 17 hours), however the pain was pretty non-stop now and this was definitely affecting me, I couldn’t eat and I couldn’t really think straight. On the long descent to La Fouly – it all fell apart, well, I tried to run, because this is the best descent ever, its beautiful and not too steep, its the perfect trail to run, and it should have been so enjoyable, but it was sooo painful. I kept forcing myself to ignore the pain and keep running until a wave of nausea hit me so hard that I had to stop and throw up, then I saw stars, then I had to lie down for a while in order to make the world become steady again. I realised in that moment, lying at the side of the trail with the sky spinning above me – that there was no way I could run another 60km on my knee, so that was it, my first ever DNF in a race. I walked an agonising and never-ending 10 or so km down to the next checkpoint at La Fouly and pulled out of the race, before collapsing in a heap of disappointment.
Post-race
In the days after the race, I questioned myself again and again about whether pulling out was the right thing to do. Deep down – I know I couldn’t have continued, in fact I probably should have pulled out much earlier than I did, but as I wandered through the town seeing everyone sporting their UTMB finisher gilets, I couldn’t help but wonder, what if I had kept going? Could I have snuck into the Top 10? Why wasn’t I was more hardcore? Why did I give-up? Rationally I know these are stupid and ridiculous thoughts. But I cant help be gutted about my first DNF, I know it had to happen at some point, and I know it happens to the best of runners. But that doesn’t make it any less disappointing. Right now, it’s just made me really hungry, for adventure, for success, to prove to myself that I am still a good runner. But first I have to wait for my knee to heal, just like 2 years ago, after my last UTMB attempt. So in the meantime I’ll sit and dream of all the races I still want to complete, luckily this time I have the most wonderful Physio and my knee is very much on the mend so I hope to be back running and racing very soon. As for UTMB – I definitely still have unfinished business!
- A spot of Via Ferrata – Active Recovery!
Lizzie Wraith 