Last weekend, for the first time ever, I was a spectator at an ultra run. But not just any ultra run, probably the ultra run, the Ultra Trail du Mont Blanc. This extreme endurance race is the pinnacle of trail running with over 105 miles (170km) and more than 10,000 metres of elevation. It’s one of the most beautiful, brutal and iconic races on the planet. And there are some serious ultra running lessons to be learnt following the race as a spectator.
It’s highly competitive at the lead end: the fastest runners complete the course in 20-21 hours. And extraordinarily inspiring at the back of the pack: the slowest runners have a maximum of 46 hours to cover the same ground.
Everyone sets off at 6pm from downtown Chamonix and returns to the same spot via three countries (Italy, Switzerland and France) and some of the most ridiculous mountain trails you’re ever likely to run. If they make it that is. Almost a third don’t.
My media access and the support of the HOKA One One team meant I was lucky enough to be able to watch the whole thing unfold about as close as you can get and what I saw was an education in ultra running and the human spirit.
We watched all 2,561 set off, saw the lead group fly through the early night checkpoints at Les Contamines, past the bonfires and churches at before the big climb to Bonhomme. The real treat was being ringside at the Courmayeur feed station just before halfway, catching the first crews and lead runners arrive, reset and refuel. For someone who’s trying to improve their own ultra running this was an education in organisation, tactics and race management.
Around 12 hours later we were right on the finish line as Xavier Thévenard came home to grab his third UTMB win. And finally, after another night’s sleep – some 40 odd hours since we’d watch that epic start – I stood by the second metal bridge that runners must climb and descend before entering Chamonix. Watching these runners was something that’ll stay with me. I thought I was pretty tough but this showed me there’s a different level.
Educating, inspiring and sometimes totally unbelievable, here’s what I learned watching my first ultra run.
Being strong at halfway doesn’t mean a thing
We had brilliant access to the feed station at Courmayeur around the halfway mark. The lead elite runners were due to arrive there around 2:15am and we were there to see their crews setting up station on a bank of empty picnic benches. One of those teams was Kilian Jornet’s. We then had a ringside seat to watch the race leaders come and go one by one. Zach Miller, Kilian Jornet and Tim Tollefson all came in looking strong, focused and bounded out like they had their eyes on the top spots. Then we went to bed.
When I woke up again just five hours later, almost none of those race leaders were anywhere near the lead. The guys who looked so strong had either dropped out entirely or had fallen apart and were now 20 or 30 places down the order. The reasons for their struggles varied from bee stings to broken head torches but it’s a testament to the fact that ultras don’t get started until deep into the second half of the race.
Better to leave the emotions at the aid station door?
I studied not just the practicalities of the feed station dance between the runner and their lone crew member but also the psychological side too. And of the 20 or so runners we saw come and go, one thing was consistent. Despite the fact that some runners had partners as crew, emotion didn’t appear to be part of the exchange. The odd hug, a quick kiss, a tempered high five was all that was given.
Compared to how I’ve arrived at aid stations to be greeted by my whooping family, this was controlled and disciplined, quiet almost. Words were shared with careful economy, some tidbits of advice and encouragement here, rapid-fire questions and answers there. And then they were gone. I could see that during my own ultra running endeavours I’ve maybe spent too much energy and got wrapped up in the moment, rather than being calculated and practical. Getting whipped up maybe isn’t such a good thing and it’s better to save the emotional energy for out there on the course.
Anything can happen in ultra running
One of the runners we hadn’t expected to fall by the wayside was Kilian Jornet. The king of ultra running was ’supposed’ to win this, or at least compete for a podium spot. Then, before the race, he got stung by a bee, something to which he is allergic. Despite finding medication that wouldn’t contravene the anti-doping rules, his allergy flared up during the race and by all accounts it was this that forced him to drop.
At the same time Jim Walmsley, the winner of the 2018 Western States just a few months earlier and a favourite to podium in Chamonix had struggles with a new head torch that was too small. It just shows you that anything can happen, to anyone, out on the ultra trails no matter how experienced you are.
Elite ultra runners eat a lot at aid stations
Some runners stay for 5 minutes at the feed station, others for 20 and all of them force a lot of food into their faces in a short space of time. From Nutella sandwiches to pasta, crackers bananas, soup and energy bars, the hamster-cheeking frenzy at the table of the feed station at Courmayeur was a bit of a revelation to me. Whenever I’ve run ultras I’ve been cautious about eating a lot for fear of stomach issues once I’m back out on the course but these guys, they ate with abandon.
Now I’m sure every single food on the table has been tried and tested, carefully selected because they know they can get it down without gastromageddon happening 15 minutes later. And if you can get those calories in, keep them in without upset, it’s only going to make you run stronger. It’s something I need to practice more.
And some will even eat sushi
That’s right, one of the elite runners, though I didn’t stay long enough to see who arrived, had a decent selection of sushi rolls laid out waiting for them to arrive at Courmayeur. It wasn’t clear if the sushi involved fish or was just rice and seaweed but still, it was a unique approach among the biscuits and flat coke.
HOKA One One athlete Tom Evans salutes crossing the finish line of the CCC © UTMB® – photo : Laurent Salino
If you train hard enough you can succeed
Two stories stood out at this year’s UTMB, one was Damian Hall’s incredible 5th place and the other was Tom Evans winning the shorter 101km CCC. And these shock success stories had one thing in common, both of the runners left no stone unturned in their preparation. The races were won somewhere far away from the steep climbs of La Flegere, with hundreds of individual decisions made the right way, dozens of sacrifices and hours of training toil. But what these two demonstrated is that if you put in the work it does pay off.
Size, age, gender – none of it matters
I spent a good hour standing by that second metal bridges that the runners must cross right before they enter the final stretch of the race in Chamonix’s narrow town centre streets and what I saw was fascinating. People with bellies beat runners with finer physique, older people beat younger people, women beat men. People I know as good runners were beaten by all of the above.
To me that means one thing: a race like the UTMB is completed with the mind not the body. Of course if you pair peak ultra trail fitness with mental strength you get a performance like Damian Hall put in, but average physical fitness and great mental resilience beats average mental strength and great physical fitness in this footrace.
© UTMB® – photo : Franck Oddoux
When you are defeated, that’s when the magic happens
Watching the runners struggle into Chamonix you can’t help but feel that the UTMB is all about being beaten, totally and utterly beaten, and being able to bounce back and push through regardless. You’re supposed to suffer, that’s when the magic happens. And boy is it magical.
It’s unbelievably emotional to watch these stubborn, determined, never-give-up-ers enter the streets of Chamonix, with 170km etched on their faces, 10,000m of climbs and descents splattered up their muddy legs and 40 hours of toil glazing over their eyes. I don’t think I’ve seen a more inspiring sight than these brave people as they pass the fancy patisseries and wobble among the cheering crowds and start to accept that they’ve done what so many times in the past two days and nights they must have thought they never could. They’ve finished the UTMB.
Even the elites face familiar struggles
Shortly after his CCC victory I got to speak to Tom Evans and when he told me that at 45km he was ready to quit because his stomach had gone and he was being sick, it was the last thing I expected to hear. He’d just run the race of his life and to hear a champion say he’d been a few kilometres from stepping off the course seemed crazy.
When you see people up on the podium you expect they’ve had a pretty solid run but that’s not the case. And Tom suffered from something most ultra runners can relate to, a dodgy stomach. But what set him apart was his ability to move through that. When many would have quit he dug in and carried on. And that’s a big lesson for me personally, having dropped twice in mountain ultras.
