The CCC August 2015

Whilst this is now a year over due, I came across this report recently and thought I'd share it on here for posterity.  Just for clarity, the CCC stands for Courmayeur, Champex, Chamonix which are the start, middle and end towns of this 100km race over the Italian/French Alps. 

Having been unsuccessful in the ballot the previous year I didn’t have high hopes for a place the second time around, yet low and behold, both myself and friend Chris were lucky (?) this time and before I knew it we our status had changed to “registered” on the website.  This was back in January so it seemed like such a long way off that it didn’t really need thinking about just at the moment……..

So after a trip to the Caribbean and the London marathon done and dusted it was time to turn my attention to the main event of the year.  I had already signed up to Salomon 4 Trails again with the backup plan of Transalpine in my mind had I not got into the CCC so some mountain training was perfectly timed.  Having trained for London marathon over the winter I had not done as much trail running or hills as I usually would have and after a hilly 10 mile run in Exmoor over Easter, the pain in my quads panicked me into addressing my lack of hill training so I swiftly booked up a couple of hilly marathons and ultra’s prior to 4 Trails.  It was only just about enough and after a testing last day in the Alps I began to realise the enormity of what I had signed up for.  Andy kept assuring me that this would be excellent prep for the CCC but still not being sure I hit the hills again and spent about 3 weekends in a row heading to the Peak District and other hilly areas of the UK to get some miles in.

With all the training I could do done, we (myself, Andy, Chris and his fiancé Beth) arrived in Chamonix the day before the race, registered, clapped in some TDS runners finishing their 120km effort and fuelled ourselves for the next day.  Race morning rolled around and after a trip through the most expensive and rather underwhelming tunnel through Mont Blanc we arrived at the race start with 2,000+ other runners who were all queuing for the same 3 toilets.  An hour later we entered the pen and though we tried to nudge our way forward a bit, it was clear that this was not acceptable to most people there so gave up and waiting patiently for our wave to start at 09.10.  During this time we chatted about the food we were carrying (each probably thinking “ah, wish I’d thought of that”), how hot it was going to get (Chris is ginger and doesn’t cope well in temperatures over  10 degrees) and what a long day it was going to be.  I think we thought that we might make it in 20-22 hours but neither of us had any real hope of anything other than surviving to the end.  The thing that struck me most in the wait for the start was how many people there were.  The race limit was 1,900 according to the website so they set us off in 3 waves, 10 mins apart to ease congestion.  Well, this didn’t work.  We set off through the streets at a nice relaxed pace and then hit the start of the climb which was a tarmac road and pretty wide.  Though it wasn’t long before we reached the single track and this is where the queuing started.  At first it was fine as we were out for a long time so tempering the first climb was a sensible approach.  However I hadn’t envisaged standing completely stationary for minutes at a time for pretty much all of the first climb (that took 3 hours).  Sure, it was great to take in the scenery and appreciate where we were and what we were doing but I was too busy wondering why on earth they had chosen a course that is so inadequate for this amount of runners.  People were clearly getting impatient and overtaking on the switchback corners only to be held up directly in front of you having made approximate 24 inches for their efforts.  None of us were standing there for the fun of it and I’m sure everyone on the mountain would have liked to have been moving and I can’t help but think these ‘queue jumpers’ were part of the congestion problem (think motorways when you lose a lane…..).   So we crept upwards and upwards and arrived finally at the top of the first climb to get ‘swiped’ with the electronic thingy that sends text messages to our eagerly awaiting followers.  (Tete de la Tronche – 3.01, 1556 position.)

The top section was undulating at first and then dropped down to our first water station at Refuge Bertone 5km and 35 mins later having made up a few places (1301 position).  I was expecting just drinks here but was pleasantly surprised to find cut up bars and tuck biscuits as well as water, iso drink and coke.  We didn’t hang around as it was still ridiculously busy so we set off along the ridge to our next stop at Refuge Bonatti.  A fairly uneventful hour that I can barely recall before we arrived for some more refreshments with just 5km until our first food check point in Arnuva, which was all downhill.  We were doing well on the down hills and once people moved out of our way we were moving well.  We took a bit of time here to eat some proper food (they had noodle soup, bread, meat, cheese etc) as we knew we had a beast of a climb waiting for us on the other side of the tent.  We set off still in good spirits and agreed we would take our time and be sensible on this climb to try and avoid Chris being struck down with sun stroke (it had happened on his last two trips to Snowdon, I kid you not) and broke this climb with some stream water hat dipping and a food stop (we found that stopping and letting ourselves eat whilst resting worked better for us that trying to eat on the fly).  It was hot and we’d been out for 6+ hours by this point and people all around were clearly suffering.  Bodies strewn all over the sides of the path resting and one man on his hands and knees vomiting over the side.  The sun was slowly claiming one victim after another and we knew that keeping it slow and steady was key for us.  We reached the top and after a quick swig of water we started the section we’d been looking forward to – the 20km descent down to la Fouly.   We started well and were passing hoards of people and were having a great time.  However after about 20 mins Chris starts to feel the first twinges of cramp and stops to stretch.  Cramp has finished  races before so we wanted to keep it at bay and were prepared to do whatever it took to make sure this happened so intermittent stretching and walking seemed to be doing the trick.  I suggested at one point that maybe because he was descending slower than usual (mainly due to the still huge number of people on the track) and the braking action could have been the cause so he opened up his stride and was off, and that oddly seemed to help.  We were back to normal after a 20 min worrying spell and were heading for La Fouly with a spring in our steps.  But that didn’t last long as the sun had finally claimed yet another victim and Chris started to suffer badly from what we assumed was sun stroke.   We walked the last 2km into the checkpoint with him the colour of an uncooked prawn and I began to doubt whether he would be able to get going again.  The tent was stiflingly hot and Chris sat with his head in his arms for a good 20 mins before he could face eating anything.  He finally felt OK enough to get some bread down, took some food for the journey and we set off again.  I’ll admit to thinking at this point that if he pulled out then I would do the honourable thing and pull out as well.  I was feeling it now – we’d been going 9 hours and we’d only done a marathon, we weren’t even half way.  Andy wasn’t interested in these negative thoughts and sent us on our way and within a few minutes Chris was back on form again, in fact probably even better than before his dip. I’ve never seem someone rally so annoyingly well! 

It was 14km to Champex, the “halfway” point of the race, the place where you get a hot meal and your supporters are allowed in to see/help you.  It was a descent from La Fouly then a “small” climb into Champex.  I really can’t recall much about this section though I think this is where we passed through some villages where the locals had set up unofficial aid stations of water, tea, coffee etc which was so gratefully received.  I was beginning to feel quite sick and everything I ate was a struggle to get down which each mouthful  ending with a retch.  Andy and Beth met us outside a bar with a Sprite and an OJ and lemonade which was what I’d been craving for hours but now just didn’t feel like I had the space to fit more liquid in.  This section was fairly runnable with some lovely forest sections and then we hit the climb.  Not as small as the map would have you believe and this was a dark place for me.  I seriously thought about stopping at Champex and decided that 9 hours running is more than enough.  I honestly couldn’t see how I could do another 9 hours in the dark feeling like this. We (well Chris) started chatting to a Namibian lady who was saying how lucky we are to be here etc etc but all I thought was that I didn’t feel that lucky at that moment and I was envious of anyone who wasn’t out there slogging up yet another climb.  The light was fading and it seems ludicrous that we hadn’t finished yet as I’ve never raced into the night before.  We were all too lazy to get our head torches out and stuck close by the one man in our group who had and had just enough light to make it to the checkpoint. 

In the tent a mini tantrum ensued.  I wasn’t going to eat because I wasn’t going back out.  I wasn’t going to have a coffee because I wasn’t going back out.  I wasnt going to have a caffeine pill because I wasn’t going back out.  So I sat there and managed 4 pieces of penne pasta, a couple of cups of coke and a good old whinge.  Andy wasn’t having any of it and didn’t even entertain me not going back out so told me to get a grip, eat something and get going.  Chris was a little kinder with some more manageable goals to aim at.  It was 17km to the next major checkpoint which would be hard going, then it was just 11km – checkpoint -  11km -water station – 8km – finish.  Though it sounds fairly manageable, we were under no illusions that it was going to be easy.  But back out we went, into the dark to takle the next 17km which was the rest of the climb we were on, a gentle descent then a steeper climb and a drop into Trient, our next aid station. 

Running in the dark with a head torch was a different experience and bought a little excitement to the event.  I’d not done any running in the dark so this was a bit novel for me.  I occupied myself playing with the various settings on my head torch, full beam for running, dim for climbing.  We were still able to run at a decent pace which was annoying in a way as I’d thought my legs would give up before the rest of my body (clearly not my mind though!) and I found it encouraging and disappointing in equal measure that I still felt so good when running. 

We stopped for some food just before the climb kicked up and got stuck in.  What I remember most vividly about the climbs in the night section is the amount of spiders that came out at night!  There were loads of them, big, long legged things that were going about their business, probably wondering why 2,000 people were tramping over their homes!  We broke half way up for Chris to attend to some foot admin.  As I was sitting, I was aware that I was probably sitting on a spiders house and the fact that I didn’t bother to moved went to show how tired I must have been.  When we started the climb the field was fairly spread out but suddenly, out of nowhere came about 60 people in a long conga line just as we were ready to set off again. We were suddenly back to queuing again after 15 hours of racing and duly joined the human snake to the top.  It flattened out for a while and as the man in front’s reflective section on his shoes sent me into a hypnotic state, I called to Chris who was a few people ahead that I needed to eat before we descended (descending is more tiring for me that climbing as I have to concentrate so hard) to which he readily agreed.  We sat off the path, turned off our head torches and enjoyed a Lion bar in the moonlight under the stars.  It was stunning up there and the moon was more or less full but we couldn’t really enjoy it for long as we needed to get down off the mountain to our next checkpoint.  We’d lost the group during our moonlight picnic but soon came upon and passed them on our way down as most people were reduced to walking down hills.  We were still moving well and though rocky and covered in tree routes on large sections I amazingly didn’t fall over once.  The lights of Trient were getting closer and we arrived into the checkpoint to be greeted by Andy and Beth.  They were getting good at knowing what we wanted/needed and whilst Beth attended to the unenviable task of helping Chris sort his feet out properly, Andy was busy sneaking sachets of sugar into all my food.  I was feeling more like eating now and being aware of how little I’d eaten at Champex and the fact I’d had not eat much in the last 3 hours I got to work.  A bowl of noodle soup, a small cheese and salami sandwich, a couple of cokes (with extra sugar), a coffee (with extra sugar) and a porridge pot (golden syrup with extra sugar).  I was really pleased with myself but just as I was finishing the porridge the retches that I thought were innocuous turned out to be a bit more sinister as I threw everything back up into a bin bag tapped to the end of the table.  In front of the other runners trying to eat their food.  Delightful.  Now I was convinced I would be allowed to stop but nope, apparently I would still have absorbed the calories from what I’d just eaten and would have more than enough to get me to the next check point.  I was not convinced but left the tent (and giant sick bag) to another 11km of up then down to reach Vallorcine, our last major checkpoint.  

On our way up the climb we saw lots of head torches coming back the other way and overheard a few of them say they were done and heading back to Trient.  I was slightly envious but also felt a slight sense of triumph that we were still going.  We were uber conservative on this climb as I was nervous that I was going to be sick every time I ate so this was done carefully and slowly sitting on a rock at the side of the climb.  I knew that this would take roughly the same time to summit as the last one so just got into it.  Chris and I didn’t talk much on this section so when we neared the top and he stated chatting to an English woman I was pleased he had someone new to talk to.  Again I called for a break before the descent as I was suffering big time.  The woman stopped with us and seemed surprised that we were going to sit down but she soon joined us on the grass!  We trotted off gently down the descent and we lost her, then I lost Chris as I stopped to take my jacket off.  I hoped he’d gone on ahead and wasn’t waiting for me on the side of the mountain as it was cold when you were stationary.  It turned out he hadn’t and had arrived at Vallorcine about 5 mins ahead of me and was getting into his checkpoint ritual.  I was unable to eat again and though I sent Andy off to get me all sorts I didn’t touch any of them. 

He was keen to get us out of there as soon as possible as in retrospect we did waste an awful lot of time in checkpoints.  Not that it mattered about time at all but we probably were putting off getting back out onto the trails so this kick up the bottom was probably what we needed.  So with no real food inside me we bid farewell to Andy and Beth who said “see you at the finish!” as we headed out.  We had 19km to go, 11km to a checkpoint (of course over a hill) then 8km to the finish.  I thought that of the 19km we had to do 14 of them would be down hill and 5km up didn’t seem too bad.  How wrong I was.  Chris and I started off in good spirits, telling ourselves that the sun would be up in an hour or so and that would give us a lift, as would getting to the top of the next climb, as this would be our last of the race.  As we wandered along we looked to our right and saw what I thought were stars, but turned out to be a line of head torches miles above us snaking up into the sky.  Wow that looked like it would take a while!  A quick last gel and we were off climbing skyward to join our fellow competitors.  I don’t know whether it was because we were so tired, sleep deprived and lacking in energy but this climb seemed the worst of them all.  Steep, rocky and wooden steps in places and at least 3 false summits.  Chris seemed pretty angry and we spent a while discussing why the organisers thought this would be a good idea so late in the race, only to “summit” to find it still going up!  We even started descending at one point congratulating ourselves on reaching the top only to be faced with more of the climb.  It was soul destroying and probably one of the darkest patches of the race for both of us.  Progress was so slow that Chris reckoned a slug over took us on that last ascent.  I think he may have been right.  Even though the sun was up now our spirits were not.

We did eventually reach the top and started to descend only to be stuck behind a large group of people who were probably moving downhill slower than my mum would walk.  Directly in front of us was a man who had decided to attach a small bell to his ruck sack and after 35 seconds of constant jingling Chris had had enough and took a risk to get by the group. I wasn’t as confident in my ability at that point so had to stay behind them until I found a section to pass them.   Jingle bells behind me I soon caught up with Chris on the undulating path and we were soon in the final checkpoint (they’d hilariously put this up a hill as well so you can imagine how we felt about that!).  2 cups of coke later we were on the final 8km descent into Chamonix.  The first section was painfully steep but soon gave way to beautiful, runnable woody trails and people were coming up the other way, either out for a run or hiking up to find their runner but every single one of them was so encouraging and so enthusiastic it really made a difference.  The word I heard the most was “Congratulations”  and this is when it dawned on me that I’d done it.  I got a bit emotional when I thought about it all but forced myself to keep it in check as I still had 4 miles to go and anything could happen!  The people got denser, the support more fervent and the finish closer.  I caught back up with Chris and we chatted about the previous 24 hours.  I warned him I might cry when we crossed the line and he admitted he might too. We were soon in Chamonix and running along the river we’d walked along 2 days before to register for this ridiculous event and we allowed ourselves a moment of congratulation as we high fived our efforts of making it.  I admitted to Chris that there were lot of times during the race that I seriously didn’t think I’d make it to the end and he (surprisingly) agree he’d felt the same himself.

It felt like the whole town was out and behind us as we wound our way through the streets and I think this may be my best running experience ever, just those few moments knowing what we’d just achieved with hundreds of people seemingly sharing in your joy.  Andy and Beth were there to greet us and before we knew it we were crossing the line arms aloft, beaming.  We had run ourselves up from 1556 at the 1^st timing point 10km in to 1027 by the end some 90km later.

Having had a couple of weeks to reflect on this event I have a lot of feeling about it.  First and foremost I think is pride in finishing what is without a doubt the toughest thing I’ve done to date.  Running with Chris made finishing possible, end of story.  Had I been on my own then I honestly don’t think I would have carried on.  We helped each other through our respective bad patches and I think that helped us to focus our attention away from how we were feeling at that time.  Just having someone that you’re comfortable enough with to not feel you have to speak the whole time but just knowing they’re there if you want to is a huge help, and I feel really lucky to have had that in Chris.  Plus, having someone to share it with was amazing.  You can never explain to others quite what it was like without them having gone through it as well.  

I have a memory of thinking most of the way round that I wasn’t enjoying it and even after I’d finished, the first few texts I responded to were to say how horrendous it had been.  Whilst it’s hard to recall those feelings now I am aware that they were very real at the time and I won’t ignore them on the high of finishing and looking back with rose tinted glasses.  It was hard, there was a lot of suffering and it took its toll.  And while a lot of people like these challenges to be present in an event to make getting through even more of an achievement, I personally like to enjoy the journey along the way, not simply arrive at the destination. 

The sheer volume of people really detracted from the overall experience for me.  I don’t understand why they allow so many runners to enter (the website says the limit is 1,900 though the withdrawals added to the finishers show a figure nearer 2,130) on a course that is so unsuitable for that many people.  The single track within the first 3km is congested for miles and miles and unless you have stated a fast finishing time (sub 18 hours probably) to get into the first pen and are prepared to camp at the front for 2 hours then you are almost certainly going to get held up.  I wasn’t aware that this would be necessary to get a more enjoyable race experience and nor do I think that these are lengths that one should have to go to. Either change the route or allow less people in.  As I said earlier, even at 3am 70km into the race we were still queuing on climbs. 

I don’t think I could have done much more training wise and I was pleased with how my legs felt for the whole race.  Not once did I feel I was reduced to a walk and even in the final 8km downhill to the finish we were running strong.   I was disappointed that I struggled with eating and nausea and am exploring ways that I might be able to combat that in the future. 

So overall an amazing experience, even if the things that made it amazing were truly horrific at the time.  I love exploring my limits and thought I’d found them on this race but glad that I pushed through them and came out the other side.  The question is, if this isn’t my limit, what is……..?