Before arriving in Chamonix on the day of the race, we had spent a couple of days in Switzerland to acclimatize at 2000m+, which worked quite well to prevent issues with the race altitude (max 2500m), but wasn't the ideal taper with 500 to 1000m of climbing every day in the week leading up to the race. After checking in to our accomodation we had rented as a base camp in case of emergency (i.e. DNFs...), we collected our bibs and tried to get our gear sorted, eat and get some sleep before boarding the bus to Courmayeur at 10pm. Despite having to transfer hundreds of runners through the Mont Blanc tunnel to Courmayeur, the buses were dead on time, which gave us a bit more than an hour to kill in Courmayeur before the start at midnight. Being a bit tardy in getting into the corral, it felt like we were somewhere in the back quarter, with the starting line not even being visible. Subsequently, the start was very anticlimactic, with a lot of shuffeling and slow walking until we actually reached the starting line, and then through Courmayeur's narrow downtown streets. After a short descent, we started tackling the first climb of the day up to the Col Checrouit and further on to the Arete De Mont Favre for a total of 1300m+ in roughly 10k. As we had made good a couple of hundred of places after running became possible and during the first couple of hundred meters of ascent, crowding wasn't as bad anymore, and being forced to reign it in a bit was actually beneficial given a tendency to go out a bit hard on the first climbs.
We knew the first 15k from hiking in 2021 (and, in the case of my brother, from UTMB 2013), but there wasn't much to see anyway in the pitch black night. Things kept being pretty uneventful on the climb up the Col Chavannes and on the stretch to the Col Saint Bernard, which we reached after 5.30h. My brother decided to have a bit of a longer rest though, so I could pull away and he didn't feel compelled to keep up, as, due to knee troubles starting at the Lavaredo Ultra Trail, he wanted to take the downhills easy. I myself had acquired some ankle bandages after the same race, trading in severe tendon issues with severe chafing and excessive feet compression issues. Never again will I make fun of people running in what looked like an aircast bandage at the Mozart Ultra a couple of years earlier.
I made it to the major aid station at Bourg Saint Maurice after 7.15h, and was asked by a volunteer at the entrance whether I was on my own or with a support crew. With a look of pity, he sent me straight to the buffet after my negative reply. I filled up with some solid food and stashed my torch (which I had to take out again when leaving the aid station for a mandatory gear check) before getting back on track after about 15 minutes, apparently just seconds before my brother also arrived at the checkpoint. Next on the menu was a pretty tough stretch: a roughly 2000m climb to the Passeur de Pralognan where in the previous year's edition a runner had died, with no official water sources, followed by a steep downhill to the Cormet de Roselend, for a total of 16km. Having carefully read the race details, I was able to manage my water consumption, but other runners hit very bad dry spells. On top of the first climb at the Fort de la Platte (~1200m+ in less than 6k), a lady had put up a stall selling Coke and Perrier for €5 per can, which quite a few people were desperate enough to shell out. I flung a gel at a collapsed American lying in the shade with whom it was impossible to tell whether he was in the final throes of bonking, dehydration or heat stroke (it was getting quite hot at 9 in the morning), and then got on with it.
Roughly 1.30h later, I had made it to the Passeur Pralongan. While not an obviously dangerous section, I could well understand why during the night, in bad weather, after having run for 10h, somebody may have slipped and fallen down the cliff, a stunt which, when performed in the upper part, was a pretty certain death sentence. I just wondered why nothing had happened earlier, as some of the other runners were inexperienced enough that the mountain rescue crew stationed here had to tell them to keep the poles in the hand not facing the wall, hold on to security ropes, descend slowly etc.
Everybody around me made it down without any accidents, though, and after some more downhill we reached the aid station at Cormet de Roselend, where I saw the first people starting to take naps at 11am.
I was telling myself to just ignore the previous night and take this as a long hiking day in a very beautiful landscape with great weather, which as a motivational device was working OK so far. Nutrition was working alright with soup, baguette and the occasional gel as well, and I had managed to avoid dehydration by being economic with my water supply.
After a short break, I soldiered on to La Gittaz, which is a remote cottage in a beautiful valley - don't expect to get a signal in most of this area. I was slowing down a bit on this stretch, losing instead of gaining ranks for the first time in the race (rank 154th was my highwater mark). From La Gittaz, which is roughly the halfway point, it's only 17k to Beaufort where drop bags were available, with 1000m of climb and 2000m of descent.
However, despite not being very tired, I was starting to dread the thought of having to spent an entire additional night awake, as my goal time of 27h was slowly turning into 30h or more, which would mean arriving at Chamonix at 6am or later. What definitely did not help was that the Pas D'Outray, the highest point before the descent into Beaufort, seemed like it would never come, the downhill terrain was not very runnable anymore at this point, and my left thigh was painfully hardening up just below the knee. Sometime during the climb, I switched from a "it'll be fine" into a "let's call it a day in Beaufort, it's only a 1.5h bus trip back to Chamonix and you will get a full night's sleep!" mindset.
Connecting with a German runner who was feeling pretty much the same didn't provide the necessary moral uplift, and neither did the still beautiful views, with Mont Blanc coming into view for the first time.
I was running a bit low on water, and was delighted to see that the mountain rescue had set up an inofficial water station at the Pas D'Outray. I thought that they had carried the water up or flown it in as it was poured from plastic bottles, but it was actually taken from a fountain a couple of meters away. This however I did not notice, and I only took a little so that people in more dire straits than myself would not run dry. Misplaced altruism if there ever was one.
The downhill to Beaufort was relentless, though runnable after a certain point. The thought of just having to make it to Beaufort was quite motivating, so despite getting lost for 15mins and adding some unnecessary climbing, running out of water 2km before the aid station, and the thigh giving me troubles I was in a pretty cheerful mood. I also caught up with the German runner again who seemed dead set on quitting as well - turns out, his girlfriend who was waiting at the aid station didn't allow him to, so he went on to finish the race in roughly 30h. Doing what seemed like a sprint through Beaufort, I entered the aid station at 5pm after 17h, 92km and 6000m of climb, and immediately asked an official to scratch me from the race, not giving me any time to reconsider on purpose. I ended up being back in Chamonix roughly 3h later, and was in bed and asleep by 9pm.
I would love to say that I have no regrets quitting at Beaufort, but missing out on a baby blue Hoka fleece finisher vest (had I only known this during the race...) and bragging rights turned out to be a heavier burden on my conscience than I thought it would. Obviously, the only remedy will be signing up for and finishing the UTMB (which is supposed to be an easier race after all) in 2023.
Run4Adventure's race video: https://youtu.be/Wd1gcSEWTqY
My brother's race video: https://youtu.be/qQNxXmlgfMs
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