The Ultra Trans Aubrac

The day of my first ultra arrived!

The day got off to a good start. Alarms sounding at 2:30 am, I woke easily and headed downstairs for a coffee and a banana. We were soon in the car with a couple of hours ahead of us. I chatted tirelessly as Ruth listened. She still seemed sleepy; maybe she had less adrenalin on the go than me....

Our route in took us over the second stage of the run; it soon became apparent we were in trouble regarding the gun time. We hit snow, cloud and ice. We dropped to 20 mph progress and blew away any chance of a leisurely registration: it was to be mad!

We arrived with 5 minutes to go. I grabbed my bag and check I had all; Ruth pinned my number to it and, with the race already started I was off in 'hot' pursuit!! (Lesson learned!!!!!)

I was to start at the back and pretty much stay there throughout. The first 5k came and went. I recall holding back from trying to catch the rest; there were a few around me but we were well dropped in truth. I recall also having to pinch myself; I was here, in the dark, well equipped and running my first ultra. I was loving it. Further I had regular meets with Ruth along the route to look forward to.

The run was in 4 stages: 22.7km, 22.8km, 33.6km and 21.4km. 1500m ascent over the first two stages, 1500 over the last two.

Less than an hour into the run the sun came up, in huge contrast to the previous week's weather. A magnificent sign. The temperature was to climb from 2°C to 12°C or so. I have no complaints there. Things were set up for the realization of a dream!


The previous week of foul weather had left many parts muddy but on the whole, up to 15k, I was able to avoid the worst and hoped to find, as we climbed, less and less standing water. I have no idea why I believed that might be the case and after playing a fool, avoiding what I could in an effort to remain in my sanitized bubble, I found myself facing a track with no choices!! In I went...as I should have at the beginning. From here on I was to find streams, mud, slime to greet me on the ascents and descents as well as further on in the forest stages. Despite these difficulties I was running the downs and flats and adopting a pacey walk up the inclines. I felt good. I had the whole day to do this thing and I had good equipment and supplies.

The drop into Laguiole was particularly daunting but I 'popped' out at the end and slipped into Laguiole for a change of kit and some welcome snacks at the aid station. I'd gone by a couple of chaps over the last 5km and felt good to go as I headed out for the next stage of 22km!





A note to what I took regarding nutrition. I kept it simple: I had 2.5 litres of water in the back-pack, I had biscuits, gels and fruit paste bars. I took an S-cap on the hour for the first 3 hours.

Arrival: Laguiole

I'm not going to pretend that, as I left the aid station, with the climb to the highest point on the course that I was confident of finishing 100km. Perhaps this doubt would be significant.

The climb was of such a slope that I found it difficult judging when to walk and when to run. We would climb some 300m in the 5km or so and I was starting to feel the gravity of my task. Three weeks back I'd made 30km. That had been tough: I had no right being here.

We would soon hit the first forest section. I'd run this over and over in my head and expected shady, soft under foot, rolling terrain. Oh boy!! It was a quagmire; cut by streams and rivers, smeared with mud; glorious mud. And snow. I'm not complaining: the others managed the same crap. The others popped out the other side and vanished onto the next stage. I was to suffer.

ROAD CROSSING 35km

I met Ruth at a road crossing at about 35km. I'd re-taken the three back markers around me and feeling OK...she even said so herself...it must be true. I figured I'd been in a low and needed to consolidate. Slow down, get some nutrition and make the next aid station.

A couple of things happened here. One guy abandoned at that crossing as I came through, and, the next stage headed brought me simultaneously into steeper terrain, colder temps and snow under foot. In truth I was out further than I'd been before by about 8km and, seeing the conditions, I told myself along that stretch that I'd done enough for today. I knew at the outset that I should have targeted a more reasonable, achievable race but no, I needed to put my name to 'the big one'. We all know what a great leveller running is I am levelled today. The final 5 km into Aubrac, the second aid station, was something of a death march. I was pulling each leg through the cycle, not driving it; catching roots and rocks as I misjudged the raise.

I chugged into Aubrac, eventually, and gave Ruth and the organisers my decision and race number. Yeah, I felt bad. It was the right thing to do though. Mentally, and physically, I was on my knees here and I'd become aware of a couple of niggles from my past. The right achilles was feeling 'weird'. The icy water had taken away any loosening I'd managed around the tendon and seemed to have shortened its operation. Coupled with the extra demand in terms of movement I felt I would definitely be pushing my luck to try for the next stage of 33km. Bloody shame as it promised great scenery as it serpented through forest following the river Lot's valley side.

Sitting here, 3 days on, I feel a tad of regret; the true regret is that I tried to punch above my weight. The silver lining is that I managed a slow 5km tester today with only minor discomfort around the tendon. I reckon I got away with it. I reckon I ran 47km last weekend... some 15 further than I could do before... I reckon a DNF isn't going to play on my mind too long..

What do you reckon...?

On a more informative note. The winner finished this course with a magnificent time of just over 10 hours. I'd taken 8 hours to reach under half way. I have such admiration for the efforts these people put in to their racing and training.

Sssshhhh...nearly there!

Ok, you think I don't know..? Two days to go and not a peep out of me. Well, what do you expect; I am woefully under-trained for my perceived requirement, the weather has been atrocious this week with a mixture of heavy rain, snow and damp all times other!

On top of that I had a tooth break at the beginning of the week leaving zero option but to visit he who mustn't be mentioned. I needed treatment on four areas including the broken tooth and a trip to doctor to take the sand from my eyes having burined my head for too long in it!
The resultant infection left me sleepless and rattling with pain-killers and antibiotics: not the best preparation for the weekend.

It's now Thursday; the race is Saturday. I feel far removed from the fit, prepared, confident individual I'd hoped to be at this point in April: looking in the mirror, all I see is me.

So, me it will be that stands in the darkness, in the rain and in the cold with a 35m beam stuck to my forehead and 100km and 3000m ascent to overcome. From my position at the keyboard I can't see even 50k as 'do-able'; but still hold the dream of running into the finish area at Laissac some 20 hours after that 6am start.

A bientôt.

Johnny

A day at the races

Three different alarms were primed to alert me on this the day of the 30km trail know as The Verticausse.
The extra alarms weren't necessary after all but the clocks changing that night had rattled me some..
Breakfast passed without event and the usual required motions were despatched, I was armed with maps for the drive and had ample time: so far, so good.
The weather was cool, breezy but the rain was to hold off till the afternoon so I would dress to combat any chills which might catch me both on the tops of the hills and if my speed dropped off.

The race is a 30km loop with 1350 metres of ascent/descent; there are to be a handful over 100 doing this run and perhaps as many on a 13km inner loop.

I had indeed arrived in good time and filled it chatting with a variety of runners: one of which was a Mont Blanc Ultra finisher looking at today's run as a training outing - he wasn't alone!







As usual I found myself checking everyone else out; their trainers, hydration systems, physiques and preparations. As with the trail in Villeveyrac some 6 weeks back I had no sense of foreboding; I was quietly confident that the training this year would bring me in in a decent time and with something in reserve.



So, 9:30 arrives and we're off. I settle into a steady rhythm, as we leave the village the track becomes narrow and thus impossible to either pass or be passed. The track soon steepens and shows me what was in store for the rest of the course - there is to be little comfort in terms of flat or even faux-plat but I am confident and running well with a bunch of runners.



Not long after the first climb is done the trail offers a relatively flat plateau, I open up a little and start moving through the back runners, suddenly I am faced with a sign and a pair of race marshalls, this is where the 13km and 30km runners separate...I am the only 30k runner...I am actually in last position at this point with a handful of 30k'ers ahead some 300m. Still no concern; I am sure they all started too quick and I'd reel a few in as the distance passes...



The kms go by, we decend toward the one water refill point at 8km, I briefly catch the back markers only to see them disappear as I restock on fluids and a good handful of sultanas, I leave the village and face a climb I imagine needing safety ropes and special clothing!! I drop to a walk, there's nothing I can do about it. I can hear the others ahead but don't quite catch them.... finally I reach the top and profit from the short-lived rolling plateau. I should point out that my pace is down the toilet and any hope of finishing inside 4 hours are delusion. I hope for 4:30.



I have a problem at this point, despite being well hydrated at the start, despite refilling at the aid station, I am going to run out of meaningful fluid with at least 10K to go...I should say that I lose fluid better that most runners, as my post-race weigh-ins demonstrate.



Oh well, I decided to back off trying to run down the back markers, to settle down and enjoy the run in, all the time thinking of learning from the experience - easy said, but it was tough to keep things going.



Coming off the plateau you are treated to a most splendid sight: The Millau Viaduc, in all its majesty.




The course tumbles down the side of the valley through rock strewn rugged-rooted single track some 150m before climbing mercilessly once more. Suddenly, as I round a corner through some trees, I come accross the back marker; it seems he is in the same position as me. We exchange pleasantries and are to play cat and mouse to the finish.

With some 7km left I have little to offer, my heart is beating way up in the ionosphere and I'm out of water; I am still focused though and ready to see it through. It is now that I'm tested: as I approach a marshall at the base of the last ascent (20 min's climbing) I see another sign...this one, as before, splitting the 30km runners from the 13km runners..the marshall looks me in the eye and points out that if I feel unable to take on the last climb I could opt for the easy route home...I don't think I even gave it an instant of thought before assuring him that I was focused and would be safe. I set off not knowing whether the back marker would choose as I had.

I didn't have to wait long before he caught me as I ground on in death march mode; he'd found some energy and looked keen to get it done. I did the best I could to stay with him but struggled to keep any real pace. On reaching the top I found myself atop a cliff above the village. The descent would be my salvation. I went on to catch and pass 'David' .

I pulled in to the ghost town that was the finish line..there were still some volunteers around and some hardy souls to clap me home; it would be nearly 5 minutes before David would cross the line.

My time and target for next year: 5:03:16

Well, there it is, the not so good, the bad and the plain ugly.
I learned a number of things out there on the trail. Firstly is to be truly prepared in terms of hydration and nutrition; look at the worst scenario and plan for it. Second, it doesn't feel too bad to come in last. Thirdly, don't make decisions about forthcoming races until at least 3 days have passed!

A 'footnote': I ran in my Inov8 Roclite 315s and found them to be supportive, durable and light.
I had no issues which is a mini-miracle after months blighted training running up to this event.

A note on my hydration failure: even drinking in excess of 3 litres and munching on bread, gels and cake I lost 3 kilos on the run! That's about 7lbs.