TDS Race Report

The TDS ultra marathon started in Courmayer, Italy, at 7am on Wednesday 27^th August.  This meant getting on a bus in Chamonix at 5.15am for the trip through the Mont Blanc tunnel from France to Italy. Before going into details of the race itself I’m going to mention the registration process, in case anyone reading this is tempted to try the event.

The information available prior to race day was very detailed in some respects and then somewhat vague in others. Registration for the event took place on Tuesday inside a large sports centre in Chamonix. I knew from people who had completed some of the runs before that registration would involve a kit check, but I never received an email telling me so and I couldn’t find any information on the website to confirm this. I decided to turn up in my race kit and with my backpack filled with all the compulsory items that I needed to carry anyway. Others weren’t quite so prepared and were turned away after almost an hour of queuing to go and fetch items of kit for inspection.

Waiting for race registration to begin.

I got to the sports centre about 30 minutes before the doors were due to open for registration to find a long queue had already formed, which snaked around inside the building’s entrance hall. When the doors opened there was a chaos of pushing and shoving as some people tried to jump the queue. There was a lot of hissing and tutting amongst those who were incensed by those cheating the system, but the wrong doers got away with their misdemeanours. I was typically British and stood my ground in the queue. Shortly afterwards I spotted Annabelle, a runner I’ve met at a few marathons and ultras in the UK over the previous year. She was with her partner Richard who I had also met at the Pilgrim Challenge in February. Annabelle was also running the TDS, whilst Richard was on supporting duties. I was quite happy to allow them to jump the queue and join Ruth and me for some company whilst we stood in line. Richard had also run the UTMB twice before so it was useful having someone to hand who knew the system.

Once inside the registration process was fairly slick. First we had to check our running number (6334) and go to a desk where we were handed a form containing a long list of all the items we needed to carry. Five items had been randomly selected from this list. We then had to collect an airport security type plastic tray and place these five items into the tray. The items on my list requiring inspection were the foil blanket, two working torches both with spare batteries, waterproof jacket with hood, whistle and mobile phone. I noticed that some people had been caught out by the need to have their spare food reserve checked. This was the one thing I hadn’t packed, if this had been one of my items I would have been legging it back to the apartment to pick up my malt loaf and energy gels. It was also possible that if the person inspecting my kit didn’t think anything was up to scratch then I would have to go off to buy a new piece of kit and then return to have it re-checked. Fortunately, everything was in order.

Once the kit had been checked we then had to collect our race number and timing chip, which had to be signed for. After this we collected two drop bags; one to bring items back from Courmayer to Chamonix and one to be filled with any spare clothing and food that we wanted at Cormet de Roselend at 67kms. We also had to collect our T-shirts and a bus ticket for the early morning bus journey to Courmayer. The whole process took less than two hours, including the time spent queuing at the start.

I then spent the afternoon unpacking and repacking by backpack to make sure that I did have everything that was required plus any extra items I thought I should have. We then met Annabelle and Richard for an afternoon beer to try and settle the nerves.

Kit checklist: 

waterproof coat with hood, 

bottles to carry at least 1 litre of water and a mug, 

windproof and waterproof gloves, 

warm hat and a cap (not shown), 

food reserve (for me gels and malt loaf (not shown)),

two working head torches and spare batteries for both, 

foil blanket, 

some money in case of emergencies, 

bandage and scissors, 

passport, 

mobile phone, 

waterproof trousers (not shown). 

I also chose to take a buff, small tub of vaseline, surgical tape and some plasters.

Walking poles were highly recommended, which I chose to use.

I didn’t really get any sleep Tuesday night but I was feeling up for the challenge when I got up at 4am Wednesday morning. We made our way through the dark pre-dawn streets of Chamonix to the buses that would take us through the Mont Blanc tunnel to Courmayer. There was absolute silence on the journey.

When we arrived in Courmayer we were deposited in a street close to a sports stadium without any instructions about what to do next, another example of the lack of competitor information. A few people started walking towards the sports stadium and everyone else followed. We entered the stadium and found more runners who had been transported on earlier buses sitting around on the floor looking listless and half asleep. Ruth had come with me as my number one supporter and she suggested I find some space on the floor with everyone else whilst she looked around. When she came back she told me that there was no sign of anyone official but she had at least located the toilets.

Trying to stay calm and relaxed before the start.

 

Between killing time and queuing for the toilets I bumped into Annabelle and Richard, and was relieved to have someone familiar to talk too. Then whilst Ruth was off visiting the loo everyone suddenly seemed to get up and exit the building without any prior announcement. By the time Ruth got back from powdering her nose the building was practically disserted. Annabelle was starting to get a bit anxious and had also gone on ahead of me. Ruth and I then followed the tail end of the crowd towards the centre of Courmayer and the start line, where I found myself almost at the very back of the race start.

Almost time to go.

When the race finally got going at 7am I found myself doing a lot of slow jogging and walking for the first kilometre as we wound our way through the narrow streets in the centre of town. We were soon on wider streets so I had the opportunity to do some overtaking. Then we were suddenly going up and after a very short period of time I had to stop to peel off a couple of layers of clothing, during which time I was overtaken by a vast number of people I had just passed.

Course profile.

The first 12.5km was then spent mostly walking up a steep incline from 1220m to 2445m. We were on a fairly wide track that allowed the throng of runners to walk roughly 4 people abreast, but there was very little opportunity to overtake so I had to just settle for going at the same pace as the pack. Pretty much everyone was using walking poles in the very tight confines of a pack of some 1600 runners. This meant that I periodically got jabbed in my Achilles by someone’s walking pole from behind, but I in return occasionally accidental jabbed the person ahead of me.

Once we reached the top of the climb it felt as if we were already deep into the mountains. We had amazing views all around, with the snow capped peaks of the Mont Blanc massif to our right. The path got much narrower towards the top and then as soon as we’d reached the Arête du Mont-Favre we found ourselves plummeting down a steep rocky trail. We had the opportunity to do some running at last! I stuck to the rock strewn trail like most people whilst others who had either been more frustrated by the slow pace to now, or had suicidal tendencies, took the more direct route down the mountain. On the trail the row of runners ahead of me would periodically come to a complete and sudden stand still as, no doubt, someone ahead braked to avoid colliding with a rock, or something, resulting in a ricochet of braking behind them.  Once at the bottom of the descent we got to run on a wide, flat track that led to the first feed station at Lac Combal.

The food on offer included noodle soup, a selection of cheese and cold meat, bread, cake and fruit. In truth there could have been other things available but the food tent was so packed it was hard to see exactly what was spread out on the table. I stood in a short line for the noodle soup and immediately got elbowed out of the way by less patient runners. “So it’s going to be like that”, I thought and decided to follow the example being set by others and barged my way through to collect a bowl of soup and some bread. I ate my food, had my water bottles re-filled and continued on my way.

What followed was another slow climb from 1970m to just over 2600m. This time the path was only wide enough for a single file of runners. There was a steep drop to one side and a wall of mountain on the other. The top of the climb was the highest point on the course. According to my GPS watch this was kilometre 21.5, which I reached after 3 hours and 45 minutes. The other way to put that is that it was the slowest half marathon of my life by a massive margin.

The next 9kms was all downhill as we dropped to 1780m. We were running alongside a deep ravine to our right, which we’d cross at a small bridge somewhere way below. As we dropped into the valley the landscape softened as we temporarily lost sight of the high mountains. At first it felt great to be running downhill, but the effect on my quads after 5 or 6k was starting to be quite punishing. The final section of descent suddenly steepened dramatically and led straight into a very boggy field. By the time I’d crossed the field I was covered in mud to just above my knees.

So with wet trainers I started the third climb of the day to the second feed station at 2200m. On paper the climb doesn’t look too bad, but it was certainly feeling like hard work. We briefly dropped into a small depression around a pretty mountain lake before the final slog up to the checkpoint at Col du Petit Saint Bernard, where Ruth and Richard were waiting. Annabelle had already been through the checkpoint about 30 minutes ahead of me.

Runners approaching the final climb to the checkpoint.

Me on the last little push to the 2nd feed station.

Noodle soup.

I once again filled up with noodle soup, bread, cheese, meat and a slice of cake before continuing on my way to Bourg Saint Maurice.

And I'm off for the 15km to Bourg Saint Maurice.

The next 15km to the third feed station was all downhill. Given that I can usually run 10km on the flat in less than 40 minutes you could perhaps assume that it should be possible for me to run 15km downhill in less than an hour. Ruth was worried that I’d get to the next checkpoint before the bus. Luckily for her there was a bus departure almost straight after I’d left the checkpoint. I initially made good progress on the descent, but the more the path dropped the steeper it became. My legs were screaming in agony after about 40 minutes of descent and I had to slow to a walk to give them a break. As the path got closer to the valley floor I had to do short bursts of very slow running followed by a walk. It seemed ridiculous to be walking downhill, but it was the best I could do.

Once we’d reached the bottom of the descent I thought the checkpoint was going to be really close. I hadn’t realised that there was first a small village to run through before reaching Bourg Saint Maurice. As I exited the village I was very confused and wondered if I’d missed the checkpoint. If there hadn’t been more runners ahead of me I would have been convinced that I’d taken a wrong turn. I decided to keep going and to follow everyone else. We eventually reached the outskirts of Bourg Saint Maurice and it was a relief to realise that I hadn’t actually missed the checkpoint.

Arriving in Bourg Saint Maurice.

I met Ruth at the feed station and this time she was allowed to come in with me to offer any help I needed. I wasn’t sure what help Ruth could have provided, but I noticed that other runners were being delivered food parcels by their wives, husbands, friends and partners. Ruth also found that she reached the checkpoint with plenty of time to spare, given that it had actually taken me almost 1 hour and 40 minutes to run the 15km downhill section! Richard and Ruth had both narrowly missed seeing Annabelle who was extending her lead over me. At this point I had been on the move for about 8 hours and had covered 51km. The hardest section of the course now lay between me and the fourth feed station at Cormet de Roselend.

I left the checkpoint to find that the route turned upwards at a very steep gradient. We would be climbing from a height of 840m to Passeur Pralognan at 2560m, with a steep little descent to encounter on the way. I tried not to think about the climb too much. My aim was to switch off and plough on at a steady pace and focus on small goals. The first goal was to just clear the tree line. My expectation was that the tree line would be just a little below 2000m. I breathed a sigh of relief once I was out of the woods, so to speak, and checked the altitude on my watch, which alarmingly told me I was only at about 1400m, so I still had over a 1000m to go.

I could see a building that looked like a fort a very short distance ahead, so I focused on that. I then focused on what was obviously going to be a false peak where I momentarily stopped to admire the view and to get my breath back before looking ahead for my next target. As I was standing still I was passed by several runners going the wrong way. They had clearly had enough of the climb and were heading back to Bourg Saint Maurice to abandon the race.

My next target on the climb was another building. This was yet another fort and the location of a water station to fill up bottles as well as an intermediate time checkpoint. This made me realise that I was really thirsty and that I had hardly drunk anything on the climb so far. So I made sure I had a really good drink before carrying on. I was now just below 2000m and had been climbing for about 2 hours. In total I had been on the move for just over 10 hours. I tried to convince myself that I was near the top of the climb and that it had to level out at some point. I ploughed on.

We continued to go up and up, then after another hour I finally reached a downhill section. At this point I stopped to eat some malt loaf and sat down on a rock for a brief rest. As soon as I stopped a few others joined me. I pulled my phone out and decided to take a couple of photos of the amazing landscape, the only photos I’d taken all day. The fact that I was using my phone to take photos makes me think that perhaps I was already starting to think about abandoning the race.

Enjoying a little sit down. We'd come up from the right and were heading down to the left.

That's roughly the direction we were heading. 

After my brief sit down I started on the descent. I thought I must be at the Col de la Forclaz and had reached the short descent that is shown on the course profile, but I was mistaken. The descent I was on didn’t even register on the profile and after a brief bit of painful downhill running I was going up again and finally reached the Col 30 minutes later.

The initial descent from the Col was quite tricky and slow going, at least for my knackered legs. In fact I found the whole of the descent to be tricky and slow going. We dropped down to an altitude of 2230m and then had the final steep climb to 2560m. One short section required the use of hands and feet, which meant my walking poles were an inconvenience all of a sudden.

I was starting to make my descent to Cormet de Roselend at 7.30pm. The next feed station was just 4km away and it was mostly all downhill. The only problem was that the downhill in question was almost a grade one scramble. I have to confess that I don’t really have any idea of what a grade one scramble would be like, but my imagination and tired body told me that I was on one. The descent was tricky enough for there to be ropes fixed to the side of the mountain. I don’t know if the ropes were permanent or just put in place by the organisers of the race for our benefit. I was glad they were there. If they hadn’t been my progress would have been even slower. As it was it took me almost an hour to make the 590m descent. Once at the bottom Cormet de Roselend lay just 2km away on a fairly level path. My quads and knees were feeling well and truly trashed by this point. I tried to run but it was too painful. I walked the last 2km to the checkpoint and by the time I got there I had convinced myself that the sensible thing to do was to abandon the race.

Annabelle arrives at Cormet de Roselend almost 2 hours ahead of me, with Richard alongside.

By the time I got to Cormet de Roselend the sun was going down.

I met Ruth and told her of my decision. She wasn’t allowed to join me inside the checkpoint, where my drop bag was waiting. Before committing myself to abandoning I collected my bag and tried to have something to eat. I didn’t really fancy any more noodle soup, so I tried to eat a small piece of cake which made me gag. This was the only time that I struggled to get any food down. I considered sitting down but knew that it would then be really hard to get back up. Without thinking about it too much more I took myself off to the small tent for those wishing to abandon. A couple of other runners were also there ahead of me. When it was my time I was asked if I wished to withdraw, to which I said, “Yes”. I was then asked if I was sure. “Yes”, I said. Then without further discussion my barcode was cut off my race number and that was that. The only thing to do now was put on some warmer clothes, meet Ruth outside the checkpoint compound and get on a bus for the 2 hour journey to Chamonix.

I am now at peace with my decision to quit. I’m convinced it was the right thing to do. My legs were in pain for several days and then my back was painful until last Thursday, just over a week after the event. I have since had a sports massage with Mike Power at Cambridge Sports Massage which did help immensely. I also made the decision to see Daniel Rollins an osteopath I know through Ruth’s connections. He found lots of kinks in my spine and pelvis which he gently worked on and has given me lots of advice to help get me back into running shape. I am feeling highly motivated to follow his advice to the letter.

Yesterday (Sunday) I went for a very gentle 11 mile run with a few of the Sweaty Betties. It was great to be running with the girls at a leisurely conversational pace, but I feel that this shortish run was perhaps a little too much for me at this stage. My legs felt quite stiff for the whole day afterwards, although not so bad this morning.

Right now I am finding it painful to do squats and lunges. This doesn’t bode well given I’ll be teaching beginner kettlebell classes from next week. I’m hoping I will be much improved by next weekend.