CCC - Part 1 to Trient

The music blasts out of the loudspeakers and I can't help but move in time to the beat. All of my favourites are being played: Led Zeppelin, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Dire Straits, ZZ Top, Van Halen, ... the list goes on. It's not a rock concert. No, it's the start line in Courmayeur and the Italians are showing us how to create an atmosphere.

Laurence and I set off in one of the first buses this morning from Chamonix to come through the Mont Blanc tunnel. It was cold and miserable in Chamonix but through the side of the mountain and it is warm and sunny here in Italy. The organisation of this event is fantatsic; everything has gone like clockwork so far, from the buses this morning, to the collection of the bibs yesterday. Around 5 000 trailers are in the valley for the weekend with the 4 races: TDS, UTMB, PTL and the race that interests me this year, the CCC.

The CCC, is so named since it starts in Italy in Courmayeur, heads north over the border into Switzerland with the main stop in Champex, and then finishes after 100km by curving back to the west in Chamonix in France.This is the first step in the challenge to run the UTMB or the whole loop around the Mont Blanc massif but for which you need qualifying races in order to get past the first phase of the selection process and to be with a chance of being chosen at random from the thousands of potential runners that apply every year. I am now just concentrating on the race in hand and frankly, I'm worried about the interuption in my training programme with the achilles injury I picked up after Marvejols-Mende. I don't know if the ankle will hold out, or the calf for that matter which has begun to trouble me too in the recent training that I've managed.

The rain has started to fall. So much for the sunny side of the massif. 1 900 runners are now waiting for the start under a steady drizzle and I look at Laurence with compassion as she waits patiently on the side for the race to start. I can see that the motivational speaches, the 3 national anthems and the music have affected her as she wipes the tears from her eyes and wishes me good luck.

 

The gun fires and we set off through the streets of Courmayeur. I tell myself to take it easy as there are a 100km to the end of this race and I need to be able to get to the end. Nevertheless, the speed feels too high for the start and I can tell that I'm not in peak condition even during the first 2 kilometres as we leave town now and start heading up a track towards the mountains. Weather conditions have forced the organisers to change the course and the first col has been cut from the route and we're heading directly up to Bertone refuge, rather then climbing to 2500m and then dropping back to the refuge afterwards. I have to admit that I'm disappointed by this news and also by the decision to cut the last col of Tete aux Vents. I entered this race to complete the full course and I struggle to understand why the course is modified at the last moment. Since I can' t do anything about this decision, I concentrate on the race in hand.

We turn left off the track and head up a smaller path towards the refuge. Everybody is walking around me now and I push on my legs to walk up as fast as possible. Over the summer, we spent time walking in the Alps and our fastest ascension speed was 700m of uphill an hour which we were able to maintain for 20 minutes. I reach Bertone refuge after 800m of ascension in just 55 minutes, so I've managed an average ascension rate of 875m/hour. It's a relief to get to the refuge as the path is fairly flat now for the next few kilometres. I run again and although I don't move fast at 12km/h, it's still a vast improvement on the uphill.

The drizzle continues to fall and I alternate between keeping my hood on and getting to hot, and then pulling it down and getting too wet. It's a no-win situation. I prefer the wet to the heat though and run with my hood down. I'm running at a steady pace and there is relatively little movement with runners passing or me passing other runners. The track is narrow anyway and passing runners is not easy and relies on them letting you get by or me moving aside for them. It takes another 50 minutes to run the 7.3km to Bonatti refuge and I stop to grab some soup and coke before heading on. This is my first real stop and I take 5 minutes out to enjoy some warmth from the soup before heading on again. The track is undulating for another 2 or 3 km before it drops downhill. The rain continues to fall and the track beneath my feet has turned into a mudbath. I'm running downhill now towards Arnuva, but running is relative and it's more a case of sliding gracefully as I pass a few runners who appear a lot less steady on their feet. My Saucony trail shoes have picked up a kilo of mud on each shoe and it's not easy to stay upright. I'm encouraged by the noise from the crowds ahead and I realise that it's not far to the next feeding station.

I enter the marquee that serves as the feeding station and I grab some meat, some dried fruit, some coke and I refill my water pouch with sparkling water. This should help with getting some minerals back into the body to replace what is lost with the sweat. I've run just over 18 km now in 2 and a half hours but I put all thoughts about time out of my head and look forward to the feeding stations ahead and seeing Laurence again at Champex. The highest point of the race is just ahead of me now : Grand Col Ferret. This is the col that separates Italy from Switzwerland and I leave the feeding station at Arnuva and begin the 800m climb to the top of the col.

The path is extremely muddy and I'm beginning to feel tired. Every step forward I take, I have the impression that I drop 2 steps backwards. I let a few runners, or rather walkers, go past me as I focus purely on getting to the top. The rain turns to snow and my fingers and feet go numb with the cold. The wind picks up too and I begin to understand the organisers decision to cut short the race with an effective temperature of -10°C taking into account the wind-chill factor. I pity the 2 race marshals at the top of the col, scanning everybody's bib as they come past. Here's a video of the scene :

I'm moving quickly to come down the mountain now and I'm so looking forward to getting to the next feeding station. My gloves are too thin and I can't feel my fingers any more. I'm tired and focusing on the descent, avoiding the stones and watching where I place my feet. I'm using my poles almost constantly as they help stabilise my posture downhill. The next feeding station is only 10 kilometres away and it should be almost all downhill. I descend and the air warms around me, it stops snowing and the drizzle begins again. Feeling comes back to my fingers, which itch as the blood returns. So much for reducing the weight by taking lightweight gloves. That was a bad move.

The feeding station is at La Fouly but it's taking a time to get there. I come off the mountain and along the valley and to my dismay find that I have to run uphill again. I had presumed, innocently, that it would be downhill or flat all the way. This wouldn't be the last of my errors in this respect. I finally arrive at La Fouly and I have to rest. I've spent just over 5 hours running / walking to complete 31 kilometres and my energy levels are seriously low. I sit down and eat some cereal bars, some soup and refill my water pouch with sparkling water. I chat to an Irishman and we both seem to be in the same condition: tired, depleted and wondering how it will be ahead. I sit and try and recharge the batteries for 17 minutes before putting the rucksack back on and restarting the race. Over 80 people have gone past me in this time and I'm now in 337 position. The path ahead is a long downhill for 10 kilometres and then 4 kilometres of uphill before arriving at Champex and meeting Laurence. I focus on the 10km and leave the 4km aside for the moment.

The path down from La Fouly to the bottom of the valley is fantastic. I'm ruuning alongside the edge of the forest following the valley down and the trail is winding between the forest and the river. I'm running all the time now and as I leave the path and onto the roads through some Swiss hamlets, it appears as though every single inhabitant has come out of their house to cheer on the runners. Some have even set up trestle tables and benches and are offering tea to the runners as they go by. The hospitality and the laid-back attitude is contagious and I think about telling Laurence about my plans to move here soon. The downhill ends and I attack the first portion of the uphill to Champex. I think about Laurence and the change of clothes she has waiting for me and this spurs me on. The tiredness is bearable and I know that it'll only take me about an hour to complete the 400m of ascent and the 4km to Champex.

Laurence is waiting for me at the entrance to Champex and this lifts my spirits immensely. We enter the feeding station and she goes and fetches me pasta, soup, and fruit. I get changed, stripping naked in front of 150 runners and their families but I'm beyond caring and the dry clothes are a welcome change from my sweaty, wet top and shorts. The only items I keep are the boosters and my goretex jacket. I eat and catch some rest for 30 minutes before it's time to head on. Laurence fetches me a last cup of tea and my hands are shking so much with the cold and tiredness that the tea is shaken out of the cup. I drink it and we discuss the next meeting point. I suggest Trient but Laurence has spoken to some others on her travels who say that there is nothing at Trient and she says she'll meet me directly at Vallorcines. This is approximately 28km ahead and I tell her that it'll take me another 4 and a half hours to get there. A quick photo and I'm off again.

I'm prepared for the next sections as I've been warned that the race starts at Champex so I expect the worst. There are 2 big cols to get over both with around 800m of ascent. The first that I have to manage is Bovine and then after the descent into Trient the last big col is Catogne before Vallorcines and then the descent down to Chamonix. The trail from Champex is straight-forward and I'm able to jog for long stretches. There is even some downhill that I was not expecting and I make the most of this begore the path starts uphill and the long trudge begins. I slow down on the uphill and I'm caught by a group of 10 runners who overtake me and I tuck in behind them. This uphill section is the steepest in the race so far as we climb through the woods and over roots and large blocks. It's drizzling again and as we climb we hit the snowline. In some respects, I'm happy at this as it means that we're at 1800m and I don't need to check. I know the col is just over 2000m so there isn't far left to ascend before the checkpoint and the feeding station at Bovine. The track turns right at this point and flattens out, contourning around the mountain. A walker on the path tells us that we have another couple of kilometres to the checkpoint. I'm shattered.

The checkpoint finally comes into view. No, let's correct this. A refuge comes into view that I presume is the checkpoint. There is fencing preventing us from heading straight there and forcing us to climb a few more metres through a herd of cows. I soon realise that the checkpoint is not in fact the nice refuge that looks so inviting but a barn which has been hooked up to a generator with a wire running through the central space and half a dozen lightbulbs hanging from it. I'm cold, wet and miserable and this barn doesn't help. I've been looking forward to the feeding station and it's providing no solace whatsoever. I grab a cup of tea, refill the water pouch and continue. No point hanging around to warm-up in a barn.

Barn is long building in the top of group of 3

Dusk is falling and I push on, running again now as the path heads initially uphill for a few hundred metres before crossing a stile and then down the hill through the trees. I'm hoping to get to Trient before nightfall and before putting my headlamp on. It's almost 8:00pm and I've been running for almost 10 hours now and completed 55km. It sounds a pathetic average for someone with a marathon time of under 3 hours, but I've never been this tired before and it's only the commitment to meet Laurence in Vallorcines in 4 and a half hours that's driving me on. Trient is 6 kilometres down the road - it's time to get moving.

I'm following a couple down the moutain that I remember having passed me on the way up. She's dressed in blue and was the fastest uphill. He's evidently her partner and is faster down the hills where she is more unsteady. I catch them up and overtake them as they stop to put their headlamps on and rearrange their sacks. I'm still trying to avoid putting my own headlamp on as I want to try and save the batteries as much as possible but it's just too dark and getting too dangerous with the wet and the roots on the path. I finally give in and the couple pass me again just before we hit a section of road and the path flattens out. A sign indicating Trient appears on the road and there are a few people cheering the runners on. Great - I've finally arrived at the checkpoint - where is it. I round the bend in the road expecting to see the feeding station just ahead but no; the path leaves the road again and I see a village 300m lower in the valley. I begin to understand why the couple that Laurence met didn't want to come to Trient - they confused the upper section of the village with the real stop 300m below. I push on eager to get there now. It's pitch black now and night has finally fallen. The path down through the trees to the village is extremely steep and I can't run for fear of falling. depsite this, I'm caught by a couple of runners who are able to bound down in the dark. How do they manage this ? I thought I was good downhill but I'm only mediocre in this environment. After what seems like an eternity, I emerge from the forest and into the village centre and there are more people cheering on the runners into a building. This is more like it. I've arrived at Trient for food and another cup of tea.