Two years ago, we stayed in Chamonix for a couple of days
while en route to Zermatt for the World Long Distance Championships at the Zermatt Marathon. Coincidentally, we were there the same weekend of the Mont BlancMarathon. The excitement buzzing through the valley and the inspiration of watching
the racers finish the 80km race in town was so special that I wanted to be a
part of it. This year we made that happen.
Aiguille du Midi - Chamonix, Mont Blanc |
This was our third time traveling to Chamonix, so even
though I was going to a foreign country, I felt comfort going to a familiar
place. The weather when we arrived was super warm for us Pacific
Northwesterners – mid-8o’s. That sun is just so hot if you’re not
used to it.
Hanging with the locals. |
Two days after we arrived and two weeks before the race, we ran 16 miles of the Mont Blanc Marathon course as part of a 20-mile long run. One week before the race we ran the 10-mile loop that included the daunting climb up to Col des Possette. Our first impressions were that the course was much more technical than we had first thought, but still nothing too crazy (especially for Europe).
Col des Posettes on a clear day. |
The climb (3,000 feet in 3.5 miles) was not as bad as
I had anticipated and, after studying splits from racers past, set a goal of placing
in the top 10. To be honest I really wanted to be one of the ten women standing
on the awards stage. With 9,000 feet of climbing and 5,000 feet of descending
in 26 miles it was not going to be easy, but I felt confident that this was a
realistic goal.
Course Profile |
Supporting ITRA with Andy Wacker. |
The day before the race I got called to the laboratory next
to the hospital to get my blood taken for doping control. I was so honored to
take part! I stood in line behind Kilian Jornet. No big deal. As an aside, I
just got an email today from the lab saying that my cortisol levels were
especially high and that maybe this was race anxiety, but I should still share
this information with my doctor. This stressed me out.
Climbing through the fog. |
The night before the race a front came through changing the
weather dramatically. Now I was anticipating rain for much of the race and
hoped it wouldn’t be too bad at 6,000 feet. I started out the first four miles
clicking off splits that were similar to my tempo run 10 days before. I was
feeling good, running calm and relaxed, completely under control sitting in 5th
position. Right before the climb to Possette, there was a downpour. The men
around me were all stopping to put their jackets on, but I figured it would
pass through quickly and knew that we wouldn’t be up on the ridge for long.
And, come on, I live in the Pacific Northwest−this is nothing! The rain did
let up, but left me soaked and in a cloud with zero visibility making a chilly
traverse across Possette. The descent off the mountain is super technical with
rocks and stairs made of slick wood logs. These technical parts are usually my
weakness but after practicing on Chuckanut Ridge this Spring I was pleased that
I only got passed by two men and I even passed one myself.
Sitting comfortably in 5th. |
I always take GU when I’m racing and have never had a
problem. When I took my first GU of the race, I noticed it didn’t appeal to me
as it usually does and had a harder time getting it to go down. I didn’t think
anything of it, and attributed it to breathing hard at elevation. But each
sequential GU kept getting harder and harder.
Packet pick-up with Andy and Karly. |
When we finally bottomed out, I felt off. I didn’t have the
same composure. There is a road crossing at 19 miles where they put a temporary
overpass made of scaffolding two-stories high. This is where the wheels fell
off my bus. Looking back on the pictures, Tad told me that in this spot I look
sick and pale with a caved in face. I started the long climb up to Flégère, but
could only run a few steps, then I’d have to bend over. I suddenly felt so
nauseas and had such an incredible thirst. Unfortunately, there was no aid
until the top of Flégère. I have never felt such sickness in a race. I was really
struggling and still had so far to climb to get to water. I don’t even like to
drink from the same bottle as Tad, but here I was asking random people on the
side of the trail and other racers for water. I started getting passed by other
women until I was clinging to the 10th spot.
Right before the wheels fell off. |
The best aid station crew. |
Cheering for the Vertical Km with Megan and Sage. |
When I finally got to the Flégère aid station, the top of a
6,000 foot peak, it was completely socked in and I became so cold I started
shaking violently. The med staff saw me and pulled me into the medical tent and
made me lie down on a cot. They brought me some Isostar sports drink and wrapped
me up in an emergency blanket. One of the men even took his jacket off and
covered me. They rubbed my hands together and made me tea to try to warm me up.
They checked my temperature which had dropped significantly. Smartly, this race
has a mandatory gear list for all racers which includes a cell phone. They were
able to get me wi-fi (“wee-fee” as they called it) so I could call Tad. With
his usual spectating plan of driving and running side trails he had followed my
progress and was aware I had lost some spots when he last saw me at 21 miles. He
was down in the valley in line to take the gondola up to meet me at the finish
hoping I was holding on to that top ten podium spot. I explained I was sick in
the medical tent so he drove to Les Praz and took the gondola up to Flégère. He
got to the top, looked in the medical tent and saw two cots, one empty and one
holding jackets and a space blanket. I was so bundled he didn’t even notice the
lump under the pile was me. Tad said to call it a day and come back down the
mountain in the gondola, but after the World Long Distance Mountain RunningChampionships in Slovenia last year, there was no way I was not going to finish.
I asked how long I could lay there and still finish. I had three hours to get
it together, so I laid there for about an hour and started feeling better. I
thanked everybody for helping me and walk-jogged the final 5k which took a
little over an hour. Tad jogged the first half mile with me to make sure I was
okay to finish and then turned around and went back down the gondola at Flégère.
This meant that I was alone at the finish. I am usually so hard on myself, but
in this moment, I felt so proud. I took a selfie and got my yearly cup of coke.
By this time the clouds lifted and the sun came out so I sat down for a bit and
enjoyed the view before taking the gondola back down.
Finish line selfie. |
So, what happened? Well, I don’t know for sure. Was I severely
dehydrated? With this much climbing did I underestimate how slowly I should
start? Did I have a bug? What could I have done differently? These are all
questions going through my head to make note of and learn from for next time.
I honestly got to experience it all. From being treated as
an elite, to racing in the top five, to being taken care of by the kindness of strangers,
to racing to the finish with back of the packers (which is no different than
running up front!). My friend Nikki summed it up best for me: “What an
incredible day! To learn how fast you are (first 18 miles), how tough you are
(last 3 miles), and how loved you are (Tad and aid station workers) all in one
race!” The whole experience leaves me feeling so full of gratitude. The best
part about not racing the way I had hoped is I get to return to Chamonix and
try again. I’ll be back for you Flégère!
La mia famiglia |
Two days after the race, we rented a car in Chamonix and
drove to Varese, Italy to see my family. It is always so special to see them
and they treat Tad and me like royalty. I’m still dreaming about the lasagna,
risotto, cream puffs…
Happy place. |
From Varese, we drove into Switzerland and up and over Gotthard pass where we stopped for an awesome 7 mile run on a trail we found on the side of the road. The rest of the drive up the pass was so nerve-wracking because we were completely in a cloud and couldn’t see two feet in front of the car. With the narrow roads and cliffs, I’m terrified of the cars coming the opposite direction. I had to sit down low in the seat, close my eyes and pray.
The backdrop of Interlaken is the stunning Jungfrau mountain
range. The problem with Interlaken is that to get anywhere with a cool view you
have to climb. A lot. Or you have to pay to take the gondola. A lot. So, Tad
studied the map and found the most obscure and scary road to drive up so that
we wouldn’t have to do so much climbing. (I think by the time we returned the
rental car imprints of my hands were molded into the dashboard and ceiling.)
The trail was absolutely polluted with cow shit. There was just no avoiding it and
we had to tip-toe through it to make sure we didn’t slip and fall face-first.
Once we waded through that mess, we were treated with unobstructed views of the
Eiger, Monch, and Jungfrau Mountains. Truly spectacular, shit and all.
Gotthard Pass, Switzerland. |
Out of curiosity I looked up what other races were going on
in Europe during our visit. One of the many cool things about Europe is that
there always seems to be some trail or mountain race going on in every town.
About one hour away from Interlaken was the 31st Stanserhorn Berglauf in Stans,
Switzerland. This is an 11-kilometer mountain race with 5,000 feet of gain. A
true mountain run with zero descent.
Jungfrau Mountain Range. |
On Saturday, the day before the race, I still couldn’t
decide if I wanted to run. The weather did not look good and it was going to
make for a long day of travel because the town of Stans was the opposite
direction of where we needed to end the day. We had to return the car to
Chamonix Sunday night, get a shuttle to the Geneva airport, and then a shuttle
to the hotel in France, to fly out the next morning. I hardly slept at all,
tossing and turning about logistics. I woke up at 5am and still didn’t know if
I wanted to race, as it was pouring rain outside. We decided to head to Stans
and make the call when we got there. So we drove to Stans, pulled into the cobblestone
town square where they were just starting to set up the start banner. We were a
little early and luckily found a parking spot meters from the start. I still
didn’t know if I wanted to race as I was walking to the registration table.
Finally, I thought what the hell, just do it. This is not my normal mode of
operation by any stretch so this was a big step for me. We paid 50 francs, and
they handed me a number. Nobody spoke English so after a fun game of charades
we finally found the bathrooms.
1 Km in before the road turned to trail. |
I felt surprisingly good on the warm up given that I had
just run the marathon a week before. (I guess it helps marathon recovery when
you take an hour nap in the middle!) From the start through the first 1 km
(each km was marked) I was about 30 meters behind the lead woman. I didn’t know
at the time, but this woman was the course record holder. Half-way up the
climb, I was still feeling really good, closed the gap and covered any move
that she tried to make. As the race wore on, she started to lose her footing in
the closing mile so I figured she was getting tired and as soon as the trail
opened up, I would be able to pass her in the last mile and pull off the win.
Pushing to see the finish. |
The problem with not knowing the course and running in a
cloud is that I didn’t know exactly where the finish was and couldn’t see
anything ahead of me. The final mile continued to be narrow trail that was so
steep it was mostly stepped switch-backs. I’m not as efficient on steps and my
opportunity to “let ‘er rip” never came. I ended up getting beat by 24 seconds.
I’m kicking myself for not making a move earlier, but I’ll know for next time.
What a trip. I think this has been my favorite adventure yet
because I grew so much. I feel like every day I was pulled out of my comfort
zone and had to embrace being comfortable feeling uncomfortable. My hope is
that as I settle back into my every day routine I can hold on to this new
growth.
More pictures from my trip can be found on Instagram
@mariadalzot.
Thank you to all of my sponsors who help support my dream and to you for reading and following along on the adventure.
Wonderful account of the highs and not-so-highs of your trip, Maria. One thing that makes our sport of trail running so appealing is that any run or race can turn into an adventure. Thanks for letting us get a glimpse through your writing and images.
ReplyDeleteThanks for reading, Doug, and for all of your support!
DeleteThe Jungfraus look amazing!
ReplyDeleteCongrats on the mountain climber race, and surviving Tad's mountain driving route choices. I read a report by Dakota Jones about a race he was crewing in France that had some crazy driving stories too!
Thank you so much! I just read Dakota's report...too funny! Thanks for reading and I wish you well :)
DeleteGreat post. My wife and I did the 2016 Stockhorn Halbmarathon relay in Switzerland; another great low-key mountain race for you to try. Uphill-only races are great, especially if trail-based.
ReplyDeleteEstoy muy feliz de decir que es una publicación interesante de leer. Aprendo nueva información del artículo, Keep it up Puedes visitar nuestro sitio web http://deporteysalud.eu/, es un blog de deportes y salud
ReplyDeleteRunning Barcelona