Monday 28 September 2015

TDS - the wild one!

I sometimes sign up to races without fully understanding what they entail - the TDS was one of these.   I read the race technical specification (you should do this first) and it had huge climbs, including one of 2000 meters and the terrain was classed as very difficult.  GULP!
The temporary transfer that was very temporary!

I spent most of the summer injured and ended up with a 6 week training window.  I charged up as many Munros as I could and for six weeks my life was all about hills, hills and hills!  I managed to sneak in a three day route recce with Carol and we established that the terrain was not as bad as we feared, but the climbs and descents were brutal.
  
A fun UTMB week was planned - seven of us (Dawn, Matt, Caroline, Lorna, Gavin and Carol) were sharing a lovely Chalet and all running different races in the UTMB series.  Rich and Ross were staying nearby and would be frequent guests at our "party chalet".

Chamonix is a busy place during UTMB week and I was relieved when race day finally arrived.  Carol and myself headed through the night to the long line of waiting buses and made ourselves comfortable on one.  Rich looked overjoyed to be excitedly yelled at when he accidentally got on the same bus as us.  Dave also looked pleased when we found him.  I was feeling very nervous and I also discovered that my temporary transfer had stuck to the sleeve of my jacket.  Not the best buy then..!

We all said good luck to each other and took up various positions in the scrum of people.  Dawn started to creep over the mountains and suddenly the sea of elbows was moving.  I dodged and dived through the streets of Courmayer - trying to find some space to run without stabbing anyone with my poles.

I shot up the first ascent much faster than I anticipated and soon I was scoffing some noodle soup at the first checkpoint.  I pushed on and let out a loud cheer when I finally reached the high point at Col Chavannes.  No one else cheered - no one...!

It was a really hot day but I was doing a good job at smiling at all the photographers.  The next climb started, but on my transfer it didn't look that far to the next checkpoint at Col Du Petite Saint Bernard.  It took a very long time and every time I turned a corner there was nothing in sight.  I started trying to ration my water - this wasn't good.  Finally, after being without water for 40 minutes, I got to the checkpoint.  There were loads of people cheering but I just headed straight for the water and drank as much as I could.  I was faced with another long descent and I realised that drinking a litre of water in 5 minutes may have been a mistake.  Some sloshing later and I was finally heading along the road to the next checkpoint.

Bourg St Maurice is quite a big town and it was was packed.  The atmosphere was amazing and it really gave me a boost especially as I was hours ahead of where I expected to be.  It was sweltering though and  I stood by the water fountain for ages, again drinking as much as I could.  I ate some more noodle soup - hmmm, getting a bit sick of it now.  I lined up for the kit check and then got frustrated at being barged out of the way by folk skipping in front of me.  I put on my best scowl and my elbows came out - kit check done!  I pushed up the hill and I just concentrated on climbing steadily.  This was made more complicated by the slower guys in front as they weren't keen on getting out of my way.  I started passing casualties on the path - lots of men laying by the side taking a rest.  I stopped and asked a few of them if they were ok as some looked a little worse for wear.  I was a bit gutted by a false summit, especially as I got to the real top another hour and a half later.  I wasn't my most cheerful at this point and my language may have deteriorated slightly.  I also had a bit of hot spot developing on my left heel.

I was shattered by the time I got to Passeur Pralognan and my legs had turned to Jelly.  They shook like crazy with fatigue as I tried to pick my way down the really technical descent.  I ended up scooting down on my arse quite a bit.  I was relieved to get to this point in daylight and I knew the big climbs were done.  

I got through Cormet De Roselend feeling pretty good and moved on across the hill as the light slowly faded into dusk.  I was moving through a herd of Cattle when I started to hear shouts and yells coming from the valley below.  Someone was trying to move the cattle off the path by panicking them.  This worked and I could hear the commotion and cowbells ringing out from below.  Unfortunately, the herd I was in the middle of started to grow uneasy at the noise. A cow behind me panicked (the bells, the bells) I glanced over my shoulder and saw a shape moving - Shit!  I panicked and ran like hell until I was through them.  I looked again and realised I was looking at my stupid poles - idiot!

I took a moment at the bottom of the Gorge to look at the trail of torches ahead and behind me.  The moon was full and was casting a cold light onto us all.  I started the next climb and suddenly my blister was agony.  The inevitable happened and I climbed 1000 metres putting most of my weight through my right leg.  I finally got to what I thought was the top and Col Du Joly was in sight - a glowing tent in the dark.  Then I spent an eternity following the path in every direction except straight to it.  I think I swore a lot at this point - possibly at other runners too.  

A lovely announcer welcomed me into the tent over the microphone - I reacted by starting to sob!  A marshall grabbed hold of me and dragged me straight down to the medical section.  I took my trainer off and finally realised the scale of the blister.  I do feel that the term blister does it a bit of an injustice  - 'gaping raw wound' is perhaps more appropriate.  The next part was fun - the medic had to remove the two compeeds I had earlier applied.  I didn't scream, I didn't cry, but it was not an experience I would want to re-live.  Next some pink stuff was injected into the blister and a bit of padding applied.  I was told to stop at the next checkpoint as they could apply a better dressing to get me up the final hill.

I left the checkpoint and attempted the descent but my right leg was now in agony and impossible to straighten.  Trust me - I tried!  I hobbled the long way down the hill through the forrest and eventually popped out on a path.  I have no idea how long this flat 4k path took me, but I think I cried every step of the way.  I could barely walk and I had to face the fact that my race was over with only 12 miles to go.  At the pace I was going it would take me 10 hours to cover the distance and I knew the final climb was too steep for me to manage.  It was a lonely night - I can honestly say that I have never felt more alone in my entire life.   Runners would come and go, but they couldn't help me and I was left alone with my thoughts for hours.  

Then it got harder.  I had to face the cheers and shouts of "courage" as I entered Les Contamines, but courage just wasn't enough today.  There was one lady standing with her two children shouting and clapping for all the competitors.  Her kindness was recognising that I was broken and I will always be grateful that she quietened down her children to let me pass with a little dignity.

I entered the checkpoint and headed straight to the medical tent to withdraw.  I was told there was a bus in 2 minutes if I could hurry..!  The medic looked at my face and radioed the bus to hold it.  Dawn and Matt got up at 5.30am to meet me in Chamonix and help me hobble home.  I am forever in their debt for this as I'm not actually sure I would have made it on my own - I just wanted to lie down on the road.  They did an amazing job of looking after me that morning and everyone else in the Chalet was lovely to me.
'Knalf' or 'Thankle'?
Rich had an incredible run and finished in the top one hundred.  Carol and Dave also had great runs and ended up crossing the line together - thankfully I was up in time to see them.

I spent two days hobbling about Chamonix with a huge leg that I couldn't straighten.  My race memories started to fall away and I realised how well I had done on so little training.  I whipped those French guys on the big climbs and next year they don't stand a chance against me.  It's also impossible to stay sad with crazy friends as amazing as mine.  


A sensible moment.
It was now time to party - the UTMB kicked off and we had about 30 hours free until the runners we knew started finishing.  Not wanting to spend the 3 days in the pub, Carol, Rich, Ross and myself decided to go up the Aiguille Du Midi and Helbronner cable cars.  We had a fantastic day and finished it off by going to the pub (again).   

It was incredible following all our friends doing the UTMB.  Wondering how they were and worrying when they appeared to slow down.  Matt and Caroline ran amazing times and it was a privilege to be able to watch them both finish - thankfully, for us, this entailed being at the pub again.  It wasn't just the 9 of us either, there was a huge Scottish contingent present in Chamonix that weekend.  You couldn't go anywhere without bumping into someone you knew.  

This was one of those rare holidays that taught me something about myself.  I wouldn't say I take the easy option in life, but in one area I had been and for quite a long time.  Sometimes quitting, although difficult, is the right thing to do.  Perhaps it was being fully stripped down during that long night that made me think things through.  I've made some changes on my return and it's time to look forward to the new possibilities that wait ahead.  TDS - I'll be back!
Scottish UTMB Support!