2019-06-10
My first official ultra! 112 kilometers, 5500m of elevation gain.
I was quite nervous about it, as at about 70 miles it'd be my second-longest distance covered in a day (and only 7km less than the longest), and by far the most elevation I'd attempted in a day (about 5500 meters or 18000 feet of climbing, more than the 4500m or so for the 7 Churfirsten last summer). I was most nervous, however, because after a 70 km training run two weeks before, I'd had some persistent minor pain in my ankle, and was worried that it'd worsen at some point during the race.
I got on the train after work on Friday and got off of at Couvet, in the Val de Travers, in French-speaking northwest Switzerland. I was surprised to see 0 other people heading to the race, and in fact was beginning to worry I'd gotten the date wrong before I arrived at the Couvet Sport Center, where the race village was. I walked in what turned out to be the back door an almost managed to get my bib without going through the bag check. I guess everyone else drove!
I was surprised at what a family affair the race was. It seemed like most of the town, young and old, was volunteering, and I walked in during a children's breakdancing demonstration. A second troupe of breakdancing children was waiting to go on next. This isn't even the first time I've seen children's breakdancing in provincial Switzerland. This was followed by an adorable awards ceremony, I assume for children's races during the day. I greatly enjoyed my plate of pasta, included with my race fee.
I soon learned that I was apparently the only person expecting to be able to camp at the start. I had confirmed via email that this was possible, but no one seemed to know what I was talking about. Fortunately, the race volunteers were extremely nice throughout the whole event, and one offered to let me sleep in her house! I was thrilled to get to sleep on a bed, with a bathroom and a way to charge my phone, instead of in my tent. Merci beaucoup, Marianne!
Everyone milled around inside until about 4:50, when we headed to the track outside for the start. The 105K and 75K races started together, for about 500 runners. A couple of minutes after 5, we were off!
I had mentally divided the course into 2 sections: the first part included the 4 big climbs of the route (\~700 m, \~700m, \~1000m, \~500m), ending at about 70km. Then came the "coda" which had less sustained uphill, but did notably feature two \~300m climbs at the end. I decided (and somehow managed) to not look at my watch until the end of the first section. I think the idea was to try and delay any sort of deal-making or anticipatory mentality as long as possible. Being at the start of such a long, well-marked route made things quite simple. All I had to do was continue going, as efficiently as possible, at an indefinitely sustainable pace, consume enough calories/water/salt, reapply sunscreen, and not roll my ankle.
The first part of the route, in the lovely cool of the morning, headed out of the town and along flat roads, until climbing over a \~300m trail section (a bit of muddy single-track, which enforced a tight single-file crowd), and then a fast section down a paved road. The first aid station sat at the bottom of climb 1/4, heading up to the Creux du Van (with the touristic moniker "The Grand Canyon of Switzerland"; like most things in Switzerland, it's comparatively tiny). This was walking up a fire road which turned into tight, single-file switchbacks before opening up on to a broad meadow at the top of the climb.
I was disappointed to not really get much of a view of the Creux du Van, as it was on the other side of a rock wall. The peer pressure made me not want to stop for too long taking photos. The next section was beautiful, cruising gently downhill. There were a few stretches, here and later, through cow pastures, which made me cautious about rolling an ankle. I ate some apples and bananas at the second aid station, but avoided this from then on, after noticing the rumbling in my belly.
The downhill section ended with some very fun steep forest trails, spitting us out at the bottom of climb #2. This wound up a beautiful canyon, equipped with stairs, boardwalks, and chains.
The top opened out into grassy meadows again, and revealed the summit of Chasseron, the high point of the race.
This peak is one of the most topographically isolated in Switzerland, and it was a great feeling when the expansive view south exploded into view, over the plains and the huge lake to the giant peaks of the Bernese Oberland.
After stopping for a few pictures and the aid station at the top of the peak, it was time for the biggest descent of the day - 1000m down. This went much more quickly than I had thought it would! The descent featured the only time when I even briefly lost the trail, but fortunately some runners ahead of me got even more lost, and so I was able to follow them as they located the correct path after doubling back.
Another aid station at the bottom of the hill promised less than 10km to the next station, so foolishly I decided that I wouldn't need to refill the water bladder in my backpack, thinking I'd save the weight on the big climb, #3. The climb started off well enough but essentially all of that 10km was climbing, including a series of false summits as one traversed a ridge to the actual peak.
I was not feeling too happy at this point, as it had gotten sunny and I was dehydrated. I was very much looking forward to the short descent to the next aid station to try and get some fluids, but this turned out to be the steepest and most technical part of the entire route, scrabbling down a rubble-filled gulley, using roots and fixed ropes. I took my only fall of the day on some loose rocks here, but soon enough was bursting out of the bushes at the bottom and at the aid station. I drank probably too much of all the liquids I could (water, isotonic drink, coke, rivella, but not the disgusting blue stuff), filled my water bladder again, tried to eat a little, and continued on.
Some less-severe terrain followed, with some ups and downs and another aid station before reaching the bottom of climb #4, ascending another scenic gorge with precarious-seeming-if-tired walkways and chains. This turned back into meadows and seemingly-interminable hiking lead me and some puffing compatriots along a ridge, almost the whole way back to the summit of Chasseron.
I was dreading the last few tens of meters of climbing when suddenly the next checkpoint appeared, meaning that section 1 was finished! I finally checked my watch - 15:15, ahead of what I'd hoped. I'd told myself beforehand that if I could make it to this point in reasonable time and shape, I would be able to finish in some fashion, so I was thrilled.
| A steep descent through fields and then the forest took me back down - I was very happy to find a fountain here to refill my water, as I was completely out again. The aid station at the bottom marked 75km and the start of another climb.
I don't remember the next section so well, but it was rolling terrain, and quite sunny, so I wasn't too happy as I kept feeling like I was running out of water, and hence not able to eat enough. I was passed by a few people during this part, and I think I realized that I was not eating enough. I finished the last of the gus and shot blocks I'd been carrying during this section, I think. I should have brought more of these - I only carried 4 gels and pack of energy gummies, thinking that I'd get more than enough food at the aid stations, not anticipating that none of the food at the aid stations would seem very appealing. I managed to pick it up a little a bit and was very heartened to see the marker for kilometer 90 appear. I remember thinking, "20 km is something I can reason about," meaning that it was perhaps time to start using the promise of the finish to motivate me.
Nonetheless, I was not feeling very happy when I arrived at the aid station at km 95. I could feel myself slowing down, which I attributed to not eating enough, and was just feeling tired - learning that it was in fact 17 km to the end, not the <15 I'd had in my head, was enough to dishearten me further. It was about 7pm and I was worried that I would slow to a crawl and not even make my 18 hour goal (11pm finish), which had seemed very much in reach. There were still two fairly sizeable climbs left - about 300m each - and one obviously-steep downhill section. I'm happy that I had correctly diagnosed the issue, though, and that I decided to take a longer break and this aid station and try to get more food into myself. I hadn't really been excited by any of the offerings at the aid stations, but the last two had promised pasta, which they had in the form of risotto - plain or avec champignons. I opted for the former, mechanically shoveling the dry, flavorless grains into my mouth. This was by far the longest I'd stopped at an aid station, and as it was well into the evening, I started to get cold and was visibly shivering as I fumbled with my phone and headphones. A cheerful boy came up to me and asked "ça va?": I think I just smiled and mumbled "I'm good just cold" or something to that effect, taking this as a cue to get on with it.
I'd purposefully kept listening to music in reserve until now, as I'd found it so staggeringly effective in getting me through the last part of the 120km transalp route a couple of summers ago. I dragged myself up and started on the next part, a descent of a couple hundred meters down a fire road.
You can never tell which song is going to end up being the one playing on a loop in your head, during efforts like these. For me it's often something I haven't heard in a long time, triggered by some chance association. The worst was the same 4 bars of "U Can't Touch This", endlessly repeating. This time, I was fortunate enough to have it be a song I really like and have been listening to a lot lately, "My Dog's Eyes", by Zammuto:
Since I'd already spent a good portion of the last 14 hours listening to it in my head, I started with this track, loving the meditative beauty of so much of Nick Zammuto's work. Next, I decided that I really needed to bring out the big guns, in terms of pump-up jams, so went to the "Robyn" artist section and hit "zufällig" (random). In what at the time seemed like divine providence, I was hit with the opening strains of "In My Eyes", which is absolutely my favorite Robyn track and in terms of raw emotional impact for me, certainly in my top 10 tracks of all time.
The effect was immediate and phenomenal. I had read somewhere on the internet about how music can diminish pain in a very real way, and this was abundantly true in this case. My legs just simply stopped hurting. Combined with the fact that I'd finally rehydrated and refueled at the aid station, my mood had completely reversed itself and I was ready to finish. The blessing from above continued as "Honey", maybe my second-favorite Robyn track, followed. I felt like I was flying down the fire road, passing several people and preparing for the rest of the course. I knew I had 2 climbs and 2 descents remaining, from the bottom of the valley.
I was feeling peaceful walking up the first climb, relishing the music from my headphones. The tracks I'd learned to love in my early 20s really seemed to hit home: Boards of Canada, Radiohead, The Books, Aphex Twin. Also particularly memorable was Indian Ocean's "Bhor Bhor", a later discovery (thanks, PT!).
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ez13hMIzaGw
I yo-yo'd with a couple of other runners and reached the top feeling pretty good. A technical downhill section followed, and then what seemed like some cruel teases that I was ready to begin the next climb - a scramble up some steep dirt to cross behind a rockfall-guarding fence was particularly memorable.
Then, on to the final climb! This was in a couple of sections with flat running in between. The last part made me chuckle in its sadism - a (seemingly)-endless steep trail, with what seemed like about a 15% grade, slowed everyone to a crawl. A race volunteer stood at the top checking that people were okay. Another short climb, punctuated by an angelic volunteer offering an extra cup of water (at this point I incorrectly stowed and lost my eco-goblet), led to the final aid station.
I walked up the last brief uphill section before starting the final descent. It was almost completely dark now, and the very steep top section looked magical, as the trail markers had been equipped with lamps and glowsticks. I stopped on the jarring descent to put on my headlamp. The trail became easier and easier, opening up into a gorgeous soft trail, a fire road, and then asphalt, as I felt I was going faster and faster. Spurred by the Crystal Method, I flew past an enormous pile of white rock beside a glowing quarry. Faster and faster I pounded through the last few turns, following the orange arrows spray-painted onto the street. Soon I was rounding the last turn, across the track, and through the inflatable arch. The last couple of kilometers felt like I'd just headed out for a weekday jog - painless.
I finished just after 10 pm, for 17:05 total.
The end was strangely casual - people trickle in over such a long period that the finish is mostly deserted. I drank some water and coke, got my T-shirt from the friendly volunteers (the limited context, the slower-speaking French Swiss, and the occasional English-speaker made my almost complete ignorance of French a non-issue most of the time). Clara thankfully pointed out that I could actually make the last train, so I hastily collected my giant bag with unused tent, and walked back to the train station, smelling like a garbage dump.
I spent the next 4 hours discovering various instances of chafing, blisters and minor abrasions. As I staggered between train platforms, I observed the ways of the drunken Swiss youth, and arrived home at 3 am (thankfully possible, as there are night services to transport said tipsy Swisslings safely back to their dorfs). Then, a glorious shower and bed. Strangely enough, my ankle felt perfectly fine through the race and afterwards - I wonder if my animal brain was frantically trying to find excuses to convince me not to intentionally waste so much energy..
All in all, a really great day, and thanks so much to all those who encouraged me! It was encouraging to know people were following along as I progressed through the checkpoints.
