UTMB-CCC race preparation

Hills are the only place to start when thinking about preparations for the CCC.  No other feature of the race, I would say even the distance, is as important as the hills you will face.  Your ability to cope on the hills, up and down, will determine the outcome of your race.

There are five major hills in the CCC.  The first and longest is within the initial 10km and it is about 1.4km of vertical.  The next is also within the first half of the race and is about 800m of vertical.  The remaining three, all involving less climbing than the first two hills, are in the last half of the race.  When you look at the elevation profile on the UTMB site, it sort of seems like these are five rolling hills – don’t be misled.

My experience only involved the first three hills, but I didn’t run very much of the uphills, nor did my fellow competitors around me. This was partly to conserve energy that would be required later on, but it also reflected the steepness of the slope.  The trail on these uphills was fairly technical, with some large unformed steps to climb over.

For the first two hills, the downhills were not an issue at all, with fairly gradual flowing descents.  There were some grassy slopes, which became muddy and slippery in my race, coming into the Swiss valleys.  But for the third hill (and I would say the fourth and the fifth) the downhill was also technical. It was difficult for me to run at this point, but I think even a top runner would have struggled to run smoothly on these descents.

This leads me to two conclusions.  First, train on as many hills as you can.  Make sure those hills are as steep and long as possible (within reason) – if you can run them, they are probably not steep enough.  This also means training the downhills and again the steeper the better. Really, for me anyway, this race was about fast-trekking for very long periods of time on steep hills, with the flats and the gentle downhills being almost irrelevant.

Second, get used to using trekking poles.  At least half of the competitors used them.  I had a pair of Black Diamond Ultra Distance poles and they were perfect for the job.  They made a considerable difference for me, not only uphill, but also downhill.  On uphills, they allowed me to recruit my upper body muscles to aid climbing and on the downhills they provided stability which allowed me to move more quickly.  I even used them in the relatively flat or easy sections as they allowed me to develop a rhythm and added stability.  I would say they made 10-15% difference as compared to running without poles.  However, this also meant my shoulders and triceps got a big workout, so I suggest incorporating upper body strengthening into your training.  Some runners used fingerless gloves, I think to avoid chafing on the hands from the pole straps, but that wasn’t an issue for me.  I found this site useful in learning how to use the poles.  The only problem I had was remembering not to leave the poles behind at aid stations!

I was certainly curious about the trails ahead of the race.  They are mainly single track, with a variety of technical (rocks, roots, scree, rutted sections etc), hard packed clay and grassy track.  It can be a bit hard to overtake runners, especially when they are using poles.  But I found pretty much everyone was polite and accommodating when I wanted to pass.  There were also 4WD tracks and some roads to navigate.  The organisers placed distinct ribbons at regular intervals, and spray painted arrows on roads, so it was actually quite straightforward to follow the route, even at night when you could see the ribbons as they had reflective tape on them.

I found there was a good spirit and polite and friendly decorum among runners during the race.  There isn’t a lot of conversation, everyone is pretty tired after the first hill, but there was a fair bit of encouragement particularly in the latter half of the event, when we were all just trying to finish. 

I used my old pair of Salomon Speedcross 3’s for the first half of the race and then changed them to my newer pair of the same model at Champex.  Putting on nice dry shoes (and socks) half way gave me a bit of a lift, but was also a risk mitigation tool as it gave me an alternative if the first pair of shoes was causing me problems.  I find the Speedcross 3’s excellent when it gets muddy and slippery and that was a feature of the 2014 race.  I think you do need a robust set of trail shoes, given the amount of technical trail involved, although there were some sandal and barefoot runners participating.

I have a Salomon 12l running pack, with an internal 1.5l bladder.  The bladder is difficult to fill and, when filled, takes up too much space in the pack for an event like this with so much compulsory gear.  I used two Raidlight 750ml bottles with a flexible valve, which I placed in the pockets on the front straps.  Most runners seemed to be using bottles in the front.  With a little skill you could drink from the valve while still using the poles and they’re easy to fill at aid stations.   

I also think it would be a good idea to do some of your training at night.  I didn’t do this, but I think there are two reasons why it’s worth doing.  First is to get used to the psychological challenge of running when tired and unable to see beyond the beam of your lamp.  I find it hard to assess how significant this was to my race, but it definitely played a part.  Second, get used to using the lamp, the feel of it on your head, fitting it over a beanie, etc.  I used a Petzl Nao and it was very good, casting a strong beam, and was comfortable on my head.  I also had a Petzl E+Lite as my back up, which was tiny but effective if required in case the Nao failed.

I used one of the GPS devices that were available from Nexxtep at the expo.  The devices are about the size of a small cellphone and could be tucked in to the top of my pack.  This allowed my supporters to follow my progress around the course online, which they loved and it became compulsory viewing for those who couldn’t be there in person.  The SMS service is also very helpful for your supporters, particularly those meeting you at Champex as they provide a pretty accurate prediction of your arrival time at each aid station.

It never really got very cold in the 2014 race.  My base layer was a 150gm Icebreaker vest, changing into a similar weight Icebreaker T-shirt at Champex.  These tops are merino wool, which are comfortable even on warm days.  Plus they are a great New Zealand product, so I’m pleased to promote them.  I used arm warmers during the day and rolled them down when it got hotter and up when it got colder. I had a 200gm Icebreaker top for when the temperature dropped at the higher points of the race and as the sun came down.  I changed to a 260gm top at Champex, which was heavier than required this year.

If you have a supporter that will go to Champex to meet you, it is a great idea.  It obviously lifts your spirits to see them, but they can also carry a change of clothing, additional food, little treats etc.  There are no drop bags allowed for the CCC, like there is for the UTMB.  The Champex aid station is very accommodating for these supporters (with only one being allowed per runner).  There is a bus that shuttles supporters between Chamonix and Champex.  This takes about 90 mins to Orsieres, connecting to a 30 mins bus trip to Champex, so it takes a bit of organisation for your supporters.

The aid stations were good and people were very helpful there.  Language barriers were not really any problem.  Water was easily available and a selection of foods.  I moved as quickly as I could through the aid stations.  I used the mandatory cup for soup and then supped that as I started again on the trail.  I took cheese and salami, oranges, bars – any real food that I could to avoid having to dip into my gels – again eating these on the first 300m or so after the aid station or stashing them away until later.

I do wonder whether altitude played a part in my difficulties in consuming food in the later stages of the race.  This is speculation, but it may be that more time acclimatising in the mountains would have been beneficial for me.  I arrived in Chamonix two days before the race.

For me, blisters on my feet were a substantial issue.  I haven’t yet figured out how to prevent this happening, but this is something you should consider as my shoes and socks got quite damp, even on a pretty mild day.

Leading up to the event, I was hungry for information about the CCC or UTMB, the possible conditions, what you should and shouldn’t wear, the trail etc.  I found the personal videos produced by runners in previous years to be helpful.  These can be found on YouTube etc.  I examined them for any and all clues for what to expect.  The shots of the start line were interesting, as that allowed you to survey what a number of other runners that year were wearing, the types of packs they wore, how they dealt with their poles, etc.  Here’s a link to my video.

By the way, I used a Sony TX30, which takes good quality videos and is small, robust and easy to stack in my pack.  I saw some guys carrying Go-pros and more at the finish carrying them through to the finish line (probably picking them up from their supporters on the way in).

On the finish, it was wonderful to see runners coming in with their family and supporters.  Clearly the organisers allow, and probably encourage, this.  I saw some runners coming in with six to eight supporters.  Lots of kids being held in the arms of runners, with their partners running alongside filming the finish, etc.  Prime your supporters to be waiting for you in positions leading up to the finish (say 200m or so out) and then all of you join together in celebrating the finish.  It’s a magical moment, so just go for it, throw away all inhibitions and let it all hang out.

I found surprisingly few sources of helpful information about this race on the web.  There are a lot of reports of the top runners but, interesting as they are, their experiences had little significance for me.  Two sources stood out for me (both from irunfar.com):

• ·        this article by Byron Powell; and

• ·         this article by Morgan Williams.

My race report is here for some further background.

If this is your first long ultra, I would also refer to the Western States site on race preparation, which I think is one of the best sources of credible information around (even though it’s a different race).

Finally, the assistance and support of a great coach and a great massage therapist was indispensible for me.  James Kuegler, at Cadence, provided me with just the programme I needed to prepare as well as I possibly could for the race.  James allowed me to build up sensibly for this race and had me on occasion running less than I wanted to, but that contributed to keeping me sane and largely injury free in the run up to the event.  Rob Matthews, MBE, ironed out the knots in my muscles, which was I think essential for body maintenance in getting ready for an event like this, as well as ample amusement.

Footnote: I successfully finished the CCC in 2018. It can be done! Here's the post.

Ultra-Trail du Mont Blanc-CCC 2014

The end occurred for me at Trient, rather than Chamonix as intended.  After 72km, 18 hours and 4.3km of vertical climb, I decided I couldn’t keep going.  It’s been a day since then and I have been blessed by the experience of watching runners arriving through the streets of Chamonix, down the little street leading to the church square. 

They are in different states of disrepair, some swaggering as exhaustion nearly takes them over, some energetically sprinting to the line, but the beauty of the joy on their faces is universal.  They arrive with their family and friends joining them on the run to the finish line, national flags held aloft, Go Pro’s taking it all in, fists punching the air, slapping hands, roaring in triumph and bending down to kiss the finish line as their supporters embrace them.  The Japanese runners, with utmost grace, turn at the end and bow.  I think they bow to the trail, to the challenges they have just faced and overcome.  It shows respect for the experience and respect that I share for this great event.

It was hard to watch in some ways.  That could have been me, etc.  I don’t know why I feel this way – it’s only a challenge if there is a risk of not succeeding and for me that risk came to pass.  There really is no shame in that and I feel a great sense of accomplishment.

The race begins with a climb out of Courmayeur, on the Italian side of Mont Blanc.  Through the streets of this little alpine town, through the forest fringes and then up and up and up.  At the start, I speculated with the other runners around me which hill we were supposed to be climbing.  The only ones I could see seemed to touch the sky and it was one of those.  I reached the top of Tete de la Tronche after 3 hours of climbing, 1.4km over 10km. 

It’s hard to comprehend how big these hills are.  I come from a country with mountains and I love the experience of running in the high hills around Central Otago.  But I have never had to do this sort of climbing before.  When steep becomes steeper, when you can’t look up for fear of seeing that you are nowhere near the top, even when you think you must be.  Distraction provided solace – the little mountain flowers, the sounds of streams, the cooling breeze as you reach the higher altitudes.

The trail goes along one side of the valley, with the Mont Blanc massif on the other side.  There are many high peaks in this range, but it was the glaciers that were particularly impressive.  They sat frozen in the valleys, but they look like they should be flowing.  They almost seem like they shouldn’t be there and of course they are fragile and shrinking as temperatures are rising.

The sun was coming out and it was a smooth and undulating valley trail, slightly downhill.  Some Australian walkers were coming in the other direction.  They saw the flag on my race bib and said “Aussie?”.  I replied “Kiwi” and they said “go mate!”.   I was cruising, enjoying the surroundings and eating up the kms.

The next hill was Grand Col Ferret.  Climbing out of the Arnuva aid station and high in the valley, we passed an unlikely group of spectators who were cheering on each runner individually as they came past.  “Allez Olivier”, “allez Georges”, “allez Mal...com” as they struggled with the pronunciation of my name.  There were not many non-Europeans in the race – about half of the participants were from France and no-one else from NZ.

Heat spots were developing on the soles of my feet and I put plasters on half way up the hill to prevent or forestall blisters.  This was a shorter climb than to Tete de la Tronche, but it seemed equally hard.  Grinding climbing and everyone around me was feeling it.

  

And then it levelled off and we tumbled down into Switzerland, into the valley of Ferret.  In contrast to the mild conditions in Italy, mist and damp had blown in and the high valley had acted like a net to capture it.  Light rain fell as we traversed down along its flanks.  It seemed so green and lush in comparison to the Italian side. The dings of arriving text messages started as my NZ supporters were getting online and checking my progress. This must have seemed strange to the European runners around me that I was getting text messages in the middle of the night.

We passed through charming picture postcard villages in the valley, before a stiff climb to reach Champex de Lac.   This was the midpoint of the race, at 55km, and your assistant could join you there.  Fi found me and took me away to find a table to get some food and drink.  Looking back, I really wasn’t in great shape at this point.  I stared at the pasta and Bolognese sauce and could only poke at it and the soup and cake seemed completely unappetising.  I knew I needed fuel, but I didn’t want to eat.  I was fussing with minor things and my concentration was wandering. 

The rain was coming down steadily as I exited the tent, now deeply dark as I fumbled with my head torch to get it to work properly.  And then up again.  This hill was only about 400m of vertical, but it seemed as high as the previous two.  The dark doesn’t help as you have no idea really how close you are to the summit.  I would occasionally look up and spot a beam of light from another runner, which indicated I had a way to go.  Sometimes that beam of light seemed impossibly high up and my heart sank as I did the mental calculations of how long and hard it would be to reach that point.  The cow bells eerily rang through the valleys, like siren’s calls.

Every step now was uncomfortable, as the blisters had reached their full potential.  I tried to vary the foot landings to relieve the pressure.  Despite the rain, the air was so dry – my eyes were dry and I was so thirsty.  My breath was shortening and my speed dropped in an attempt to preserve energy.  The descent from La Giete to Trient was a struggle and many runners overtook me.  It was technical, with big drop offs as it steeply descended towards Trient.  My legs were feeling weak as I planned my strategy for the next aid station.  I would go to the medical centre and see what they could do about the blisters and try and get some food down.

I arrived in Trient at 3.15am, surprised that I was only 30 minutes from the cut off time.  I thought I had more time up my sleeve.  After seeing the medical people, I had that moment.  I looked out into the rainy night, weighed it all up and decided my race was over. 

In the lead up to the event, I told myself that there would be moments when you wanted to give up, but that you just had to press on.  I tried to picture myself in those moments and how I would convince my mind to overcome the body.  I knew it would be in the dead of night and that I would be tired and cold.  I prepared with chocolate almond croissants in my bag as rewards for succeeding on keeping going.  That’s fine, but when that moment came, I didn’t feel like pressing on. 

My son Hamish sent me a message during the race with a quote "From all the powers the world enchains, man frees himself when self-control he gains".  That is so true.  I didn’t go into this lightly.  I trained hard for six months and many months before that in build up.  I was focused and prepared.  Blisters were an amateur error in retrospect and, although altitude may have been a factor, I should have found ways to deal with fuel intake and stomach problems. 

I saw it in the eyes of the finishers.  They knew this was a substantial challenge and they had achieved a great feat of human endurance.  I take my hat off to all of them, and to all that, like me, tried but didn’t quite make it.

Here's my video of the day.

Footnote: I successfully finished the CCC in 2018.  Here's the post.

Cape Town: Table Mountain and Lion’s Head

“Will I be able to see much from the top?”.  “No” replied the receptionist at the B&B.  There was no doubt in her voice; years of answering that same question enabled her to give a confident answer.  It was quite a nice crisp day, but a layer of cloud enveloped the upper levels of the mountain.  It wasn’t going to lift.

Cape Town would have to be one of the most dramatic settings for a large urban centre that I have been in.  The wild ocean belts into the coastline and the inhabitants chose to build their community in the small terrace between the raging sea and the foot of the mountain.  It was my second trip to Cape Town, after a previous weekend spent touring the peninsula and enjoying the wineries of Stellenbosch.  But this time I bought my running gear.

I looked up at the massive hill looming above us.  I knew there was a cable car that carried visitors all the way up.  But apparently there was also a trail that would get me to the top: Platteklip Gorge.  I say apparently, because it just doesn’t seem possible when you examine Table Mountain from the city.  It almost appears to be vertical from half way up. 

The Platteklip trail begins just next to the cable car station (at about 360m).  I was staying up the top of Kloof Street and it was a short taxi ride to the cable car station.  The trail starts out at a reasonable gradient and eventually becomes quite steep, carving its way diagonally up the gorge that you can’t really see from the bottom.  In total, it’s about 3km with a vertical of about 700m.  For me it was a fast hike, rather than a run.  I was passed by a guy in VFF skipping from rock to rock up the trail.  Impressed, I left him to it and continued my grind up the switchbacks and steps.  Locals regard the Platteklip trail as a bit soft.  It has been climbed for centuries and is probably the most direct route to the top, but there are more challenging ways of doing it. 

According to a traveller in 1634:  “Myself and 2 others went up by the great opening which the hill makes, being like a valley but wondrous steep, the rocks on each side upright like monstrous walls, from which there is a continual distilling water.” 

The temperature dropped as the mists surrounded the heights of the mountain at about 1060m.  There was a fair amount of water coming down the trail, which in the winter turns into a solid flow.  Arriving at the top and looking back to Cape Town, I couldn’t see a thing.  I went exploring and found some trails to follow in the hope of finding a break in the mist so I could capture a glimpse of what would have been a stunning outlook on a good day.  I wandered around, placing some rocks on the cairns, but after getting colder I decided to descend.  It was a great trip down, a lot of steps (1800 I understand) and a bit technical but easy enough to get a flow on. 

Others were taking on the Platteklip that day.  I came across a group attired in what seemed more appropriate for going out to dinner.  I noticed a guy’s leather soled lizard skin shoes and wondered how he was coping with the moist rocks on this fairly solid climb.  He may have been a local who had been doing the trail for years, showing his disdain for the ease of the route.

On reaching the bottom, I felt like I needed more and headed down the road back towards town to the track up to Lion’s Head.  Lion’s Head is lower than Table Mountain at 670m, but closer to town.  There’s some chain ladder work to get to the top, but when you reach the summit, it offers stunning and immediate views of the coastline, the city and Robben Island just out to sea. 

This was a great way to experience the drama of Cape Town’s setting.  A perfect way to end a day like that would have been to go down to the coast and have a swim, but I ran out of time.  The trail running community of this city are blessed with the resources available to them so close to town.