I woke up lazily to the sun rays hitting the bed. The weekend had been
such a whirlwind. Post-UTMB. The effects were slowly sinking in, I still could
not believe that the race was over. That I had completed it, all 170km and
10,000m elevation.
“It is a celebration, a pilgrimage, a circumambulation—it is a kora for
those who choose. … A pilgrimage is often associated with a physical
journey, but it is also a search for moral or spiritual significance.” ~ Lizzy
Hawker, 5x winner, UTMB
UTMB, the Mecca of trail races. An iconic ultra race that lures runners
from around the world. It is not the toughest, nor longest, nor oldest, yet we come
in droves each year. When UTMB began in 2003, only 700 runners signed up and 67
completed. Now, the number for UTMB per se is capped at 2,300 runners. Even
then, one had to chalk up points to ballot for a slot. It is a race notorious for
its incessant climbs and unpredictable weather. In 2010, the event was
cancelled mid-race; in 2012, it was shortened in response to dangerous weather.
The UTMB does not hand out prize money to winners, yet it has established
itself as the ultra trail race championship
where elites miss a night’s sleep, mere mortals two, and finishers earn a
lifetime’s bragging rights.
I started ultra trail running back in 2007, taking baby steps in our
humble MR25 Ultra (Singapore). Round after round, I was instantly hooked. Over
the years, I would hear about runners going to events and accumulating points
that would then grant them a chance to ballot (not even guaranteed) for a mystical
race called the ‘UTMB’. I just kept running. UTMB seemed like such a distant
wishful thinking, reserved for those in a different league. Then my races got
longer, and farther out in the world. Even though I had enough points for a
ballot in 2014, I was still apprehensive about the race. One experienced SGP
runner who had run UTMB frankly pointed out that if I could not even finish the
HK TNF100, I should not be thinking about UTMB. Looking through the race
profile and time sheet then, I would be a borderline case. Fortuitously, I did
not get the ballot either. Ah yes, the messages were aligned. I remain thankful
for my friend’s point-blank feedback. Coming into UTMB in 2016, I definitely
feel more confident and conditioned for the race. I have clocked my fair share
of ultras, averaging one race per month, and exposure to varied mountainous
terrain and high altitude through trekking and expeditions. With each step and
each event, I learnt something about myself and my gear.
Nonetheless, UTMB marked my first 100-miler (slightly more) and I was a
nervous wreck before the race. Enroute to Chamonix, I transited in Iceland, did
a 55km trek, ran a road marathon, and still felt insufficient for what laid
ahead. Arriving in Chamonix a week ahead of the race, I soaked myself in the
beautiful mountain valleys every day, taking short hikes at 2,000m-plus
altitude to calm my nerves. Away from the crowds and buzz in the city centre,
the gorgeous weather and scenery soothed my anxious mind and distracted me from
over-thinking about the race. It was useful to have a sense of the sights and
terrain so that I did not go into the race blind. I tried out my new LA
Sportiva Bushido shoes again in the trail, brilliant! Its lower profile and
sock-like fit prevented my feet from sliding in the shoes, and I felt confident
stepping on the rocks. Each step landed exactly how I visualised it to be,
instead of being ‘altered’ by a pair of shoes. Legs, lungs, gear… mentally
checked.
The UTMB is the largest trail running festival in the world. Some 7,300
runners from 87 nations would take part in the five different races (UTMB, CCC,
TDS, PTL, and OCC) under the UTMB banner. The race bib collection and race expo
were such an eye-opener. So many elite-looking runners, everyone looked so
seasoned and experienced. I felt like a little girl in the midst of giants
(well, quite literally too, given their heights), gawking at the various race
tees that people were wearing, observing the gear that they carried. Many
European brands and races were new to me, I soaked in all the excitement and
race possibilities. I met Corrado, the guy manning the Vibram truck that went
around European trail races to replace shoe soles with the Vibram Mega-grip. He
had grown up and studied in Singapore, and we had a fun time conversing in
Singlish. Tip from Corrado: LUT (Lavaredo, which I completed two months earlier
in June) was more technical than UTMB. Coupled with the unbeatable support and
atmosphere in UTMB, I should (fingers-crossed) hopefully be fine. Then I met
Cristine, a lady manning the Trail Running Movement booth, and who had just
completed the Trans-Pyrenea Ultra (a whopping crazy 890km!). She told me the
same tip as well. I felt a wee bit better after that.
Race day. 6pm flag-off. The weather forecast was sunny, with some
chance of scatter thunderstorms. I decided on my TNF Reaxion tee and a pair of
normal (non-insulated) CWX compression tights. My hotel was a stroll from the
drop-bag collection point and the start line. As I dropped off my gear bag and went
to buy a burger, there were already many runners milling the city centre. Too
many humans and sounds! I needed to get back to my room, gather my energy and
centre myself.
5:50pm. I crossed the street to join the starting queue. Soon, the UTMB
theme song “Conquest of Paradise” filled the air. It was a majestic
energy-raising piece, grand but not pompous. Then the queue started moving
forward. Passing through the UTMB arch, I choked a little, a sudden emotional
realisation that this was it. As an average SGP runner standing there, I was
humbled, apprehensive, yet proud, all rolled into one. There was no place to
run, and nobody was in any hurry either. We walked through the main street,
each of us taking in the atmosphere, lost in our own thoughts. Crowds lined the
main street and every balcony, cheering and clapping. It took us a good 10-min
to clear the street before we could start jogging. Even then, supporters
continued to line the trail. And it was to be so throughout the entire race. As
long as we were near any refuges or villages/ chalets, there would be people cheering,
clanging the cow-bells. Young and old, they stood by as we ran past, offering
drinks or encouragement ‘Allez allez, bravo bravo!’, even in the wee ungodly
hours of the days. Their presence made the race so much more bearable.
My aim was to complete the race in good shape with no injuries or
mishaps. My strategy, if any, was to follow the time-chart given by the
organisers, and to keep within the cut-off times for each checkpoint. The first
8km from Chamonix to Les Houches was a relatively flat/ downhill run, which
most of us cleared comfortably. Then we started climbing and descending to the
first cut-off at Saint Gervais (21km). I reached there in good time within
45min of the limit. I felt ok, and focused on building my buffer in
anticipation of Day 2 and the second half of the race, where there would be
more pronounced climbs, descents, and fatigue. Slowly, I increased the buffer
to about 1h (Les Contamines; 31km), 1:15h (Les Chapieux; 49km). We had to climb
almost 1,000m from Les Chapieux (1,554m) up to Col de la Seigne (2,502m) and
then to Col des Pyramides Calcaires 2,563m). Step by step, my mantra went. Soon
it was daybreak, and we were treated to a breathtaking sight of being at the
cloudline and seeing the fluffy cottony clouds floating in the valleys. At that
altitude, the snow had not fully melted, so we had to cross slush and scramble
up huge boulders to get across the two cols. That was the moment I fully
appreciated my Bushidos, merci. Every landing on the boulder gave me peace of
mind.
With the sunrise, I was up and awake again in my usual perky self.
Powered by sunshine, oh yeah! I made my way to Lac Combal (66km) with a buffer
of 1:45h. There, I met another SGP runner, Kenneth Lim. He told me that he was
not feeling well and could not eat much. As it turned out, we would continue
meeting each other at every checkpoint, and he would feel worse, yet go on
faster and faster! Salute! Finally, I reached Courmayeur (79km), where our drop
bags were. We were now in the Italian part of the Mont Blanc valley. Gracias. I
had close to 2h buffer and so I decided to get some food and a change of gear.
I had packed some microwaveable gohan (Japanese cooked rice) in my drop bag,
thinking that I could add hot soup and have a comfort meal. Alas, the rice was
not warm enough and I forced myself to chew through half the pack. The pasta
served at the checkpoint was also not to my liking. I pecked a few bites and
settled on drinking more noodle soup and hot tea. Note to self: test out food
before race (roll-eyes at self). I do not normally change my gear during
ultras, but thought that I would this time, given the intensity and duration of
the race. So I slipped on fresh clothes, socks and shoes, and finally made my
way out of the checkpoint. I had already spent about 40min there, and it was
eating into my hard-built buffer. Another note to self: be more efficient at
checkpoints (alas say only, never materialised).
The weather was really hot, and everyone was feeling the heat. Each
time there was a water pipe or stream, runners would wet their caps or refill
their bottles. Luckily, the heat did not bother me as much, I much preferred it
to being wet and cold. With a new burst of energy, I was able to get up the
next 19km in good time and regained my buffer of 1:45h at Arnuva (97km).
Someone shouted my name, and I was surprised to see Josephine and her friends
there! So heartening to see familiar faces. In good spirits, I made a
consistent 740m climb to Grand Col Ferret (2,525m), where Pon was waiting. He
had hiked up to catch me, awesome! It was almost sunset as we descended to the
Swiss side. It was a long descent, not my forte at all, but I managed to run
somewhat to La Fouly (1,600m). By then it was getting dark and runners were
heading into our second night. I got out my headlamp, and wondered how I would
keep myself awake. The next major checkpoint was Champex-Lac. I arrived there
just past midnight, having completed 124km in some 30h. I heard some distant
rumbling and prayed hard that the weather would hold up. The checkpoint was
bustling with supporters checking in on their runners. I quickly grabbed some
food and decided that I should also get some sleep. I met Kenneth, who had just
napped and freshened up. The resting tent comprised several mattresses, each
with a pillow and fleece blanket. I laid down, set my alarm, and tried to fall
asleep. Unfortunately, I was too excited to doze off and only managed a 10-min
eye shut.
The journey to the next checkpoint at Trient was the most painful part
of the race for me. We had to descend to Plan de l’Au before a massive endless
climb up to La Giete. Soon, we were accompanied by rolling thunder and flashes
of lightning, and then the skies showered on us. Thankfully, it was only a
persistent drizzle instead of the forecasted thunderstorm. (Post-race, I found
out that there were indeed heavy downpours over at Chamonix that night.) All of
us trotted along in silence, fatigue showing in our slow pace. At Plan de l’Au,
we wound our way through a small village where one helpful family had set up a
drinks booth and offered runners tea and coffee. Such was the atmosphere at
UTMB. No matter what time it was, there were always people cheering along the
route, and that brought much warmth to us.
Passing Plan de l’Au, we began our climb up to La Giete. Although the
absolute gain was only 535m, it was an eternity for me. So many runners passed
me from the back and I lost a lot of lead time on that section. I was trying
extremely hard to stay awake and focus. Looking at the stream of headlamps snaking
before and behind me, I fought the zzz-monster and tried to inspire myself to
pick up pace. After La Giete, it was a long downhill to Trient. The valley was so
far down in the distance that I knew the checkpoint was not going to appear any
time soon. I pushed along in the dark, through vegetation and trees which reminded
me of Hong Kong races. Finally, I got to Trient with about a 2h buffer.
Daylight was breaking (again) and I willed myself to stay awake. Climbs
were usually my forte but the last couple of hours were pure torture. I
mentally admonished myself for the lacklustre ascent, took some tea and soup,
and set off with a target for a power climb to Catogne (700m elevation). I had a
good pace and rhythm, step-step-step-step, which unfortunately also made me sleepy.
Two days with only a 10-min eye shut, I was beginning to ‘hallucinate’. I
forgot where I was and wondered what I was doing on a steep hill early in the
morning. After some incoherent thoughts, I finally remembered that I was still
in a race! We made it up Catogne, and then it was a long zig-zag descent to the
next major checkpoint at Vallorcine. I really was not fond of those descents.
So many runners caught up from the back and passed me, and I was still
tottering my way down, argh…. As I made my way into Vallorcine (151km!), I met Kee
Seng, Josephine, Rita, Tiffany, Yao Ming, Pon etc who were cheering there.
Their excitement gave me renewed energy to press on! Another SGP runner, Roger,
was at the checkpoint too, and we soon headed off on our last 19km of the race.
I was fairly confident of the next section to La Flegere, having hiked
some of the area prior to the race. Hopping and skipping along, Roger commented
that I was still so perky. “要完了! (Finishing soon!)” was my reply.
The thought of completing the race was enough to drive me on, although I was
also careful not to be overly complacent. We were still in the mountains
afterall, and anything could happen. The ascent to La Tete aux Vents was about
8km and a 900m gain over a rocky terrain. Slowly, steadily, up we went. Roger
decided to escape the heat and took off swiftly on the descent after Tete aux
Vents to La Flegere. I arrived at almost 1pm and then it was the 7km homerun
stretch to Chamonix. Awesome! I decided to ‘let go and chiong’ all the way
down. Just off La Flagere, I spotted Louis and William, who had hiked up to take photos of the race. A quick "Hi!" and I continued on. I had been rather conservative throughout the race, not knowing what to
expect, and hence had enough energy to run 7km. I experimented with a faster
downhill run and forced myself to go non-stop on the winding semi-rocky trail. Scary
but exhilarating. Go, go, go! For the first time, I overtook runners on the
descent (!) and when I finally hit tarmac, I was plain delirious. I picked up
pace to sprint the last 1km back into Chamonix city centre and passed more
runners. Almost there! Along the river, past my hotel, and winding into the
main streets where people were cheering and clapping, it was an emotional
moment and I held back tears. And then, the UTMB arch and the timing mats! 44:11h,
I did it! Yeah, the 2nd/ 3rd SGP female finisher to ever complete
the race (the first being Jeri, our undisputed Queen of trails :))! Sarina, Chiew Lan,
Grace and Echo were at the finishing line, we were all ecstatic and I still
could not believe that moment. Deep inhale. I pulled out my SGP flag and took a
shot at the Finisher photo booth. Grins, wide smiles, pride, humility,
disbelief, surreal… I was cheery and hyper, my legs were still fine, buoyed by
the adrenalin boost. It would no doubt take a while for the news to sink in,
and I did not want the moment to end. My first 100-miler, at the Mecca of trail
running, UTMB!
It was a weekend where the stars aligned. I am extremely thankful for
the good weather, friends who were tracking and cheering from Singapore and
Chamonix, and fabulous race gear that kept me going and going without any blisters
or abrasions. Special mention for La Sportiva Bushido – excellent, excellent,
excellent!, and Patagonia Barely There sports bra – not a single abrasion! I am
not sure if I would attempt UTMB again, the conditions this time would be hard
to beat. Yet its allure is irresistible….
