Ut4M 2016 : Second Chance

There I stood at the starting line of Ut4M for the second time. There weren't many moments in life like this. Months of preparation reduced down to this date. With the experience from last year, I had become way calmer facing it this time. With this kind of distance, I had to be serious about it. But at the same time, I knew I couldn't be too serious because the course could crush this kind of thinking. I had to be able to laugh at myself if ever I failed again. It was my biggest mistake last year to think that not finishing meant down to the loser road. Actually trying was already a win. So my personal goal this time wasn't to finish. It was to go beyond where I failed last year, and yeah, to better myself as the cliché said. It might seem simple enough, but I was still not sure if I could do it. In fact nothing was for sure. An injury, a sprained ankle, a bad weather, a weak moment. Something could always go wrong and it could mean an early end for me. The mountain always has the final say. Keeping a good attitude was the only thing I had control.

Vercors

19 August 2016, 169kms race started at 7h00 at Grenoble city centre. If Ut4M was a meal, it could be said that Vercors part was just the entree. St Nizier, Moucherotte, Lans en Vercors, Pic Saint Michel, Saint Paul de Varces, I got through all of them with relative ease, while taking my time eating and drinking at each pit stop available. The main challenge of the day was really the heat, reaching 35°C in the valley. I did a good job at hydrating myself but the heat really affected my stomach. I was having some minor problem chewing down food. Everything I ate just felt like stuck mid way and never reached the stomach. The urge to vomit was omnipresent throughout Vercors but I was still able to keep my digestive system together. Some of the participants were not so fortunate though. I saw some of them vomiting along the way.

I reached the first of the three main aid stations at Vif at around 15h00. Reaching Vif also marked the end of the Vercors part. And here came the surprise. My friend Thibaut came to Vif to show support. This year, I didn't ask anybody to come to the aid stations to support me. In fact, not many people actually knew about me doing it this year. Even if I told people about it, most people won't even comprehend the feat to which I challenged myself and the importance of moral support by simply be present at the aid stations. Thibaut's support really cheered me up. Able to chit-chat a little bit and share what I had been through during the course was mentally refreshing. At Vif, I took a cold bath, so physically also refreshed. I think it was after around 30 to 45 mins at the station, I left for the real deal of course - Oisans/Taillefer.

Oisans/Taillefer

Out of the four mountain ranges, I would consider Oisans/Taillefer to be the most difficult. When I left Vif, it was still the afternoon. So the heat was still an issue. Not long after I left Vif, I was already soaking wet from sweating again. Luckily, along the path from Vif all the way to Laffrey, there were many water fountains. This was the time my experience gave me an edge over those who didn't know what to expect from the course. I knew from last year experience that this part of the course was in lower altitude, thus it was going to be really hot. I also knew where exactly the water fountains were situated. So I was kinda moving fast from one fountain to another, kept thinking of the coldness of fountains to keep my spirit up and helped myself moved through to Laffrey. With the knowledge of the location of the water fountains, I also helped motivating other runners to get through this hottest part of the course.

I breezed by Saint Georges de Commiers. A hill and a forest later, I reached Laffrey at around 18h45. Comparing to my performance last year, I managed to reach Laffrey two and half hours earlier than last year. I also felt so much better than the me last year at Laffrey. Confident, I didn't stay there for too long. A hot soup and some food later, I moved on again. The climb to La Morte wasn't particularly difficult. It was just really long. When I reached La Morte, the sun set. 65kms in and almost 5000m of accumulated elevation gain, I still felt fresh. That was really a good news. I guess my hard work and training had paid off.

At this pit stop, Thibaut was there again and this time he brought along Cyprien. Cyprien was always the witty guy so talking to him was always cheerful. I was already going strong at this point. With their support, my confidence was boosted to another level. All that combined and came in at the right time because all that was needed to tackle to the highest point of the course - Pas de la Vache. Again a hot soup and some biscuits later, headlight on, long sleeves on, and I left.

The climb to Pas de la Vache, I was surprised that I got through it without too much difficulty. It was hard but I still managed to keep a single pace up until the peak without stopping. At the top, I was thinking of sitting down to enjoy the view, but the cold wind immediately deterred the thought. The descent to Lac Poursollet, I took it slow. At 2h30, I reached there. Here, the cold wind reminded me I was still in high mountain area. With the cold weather, I needed to keep moving to keep the machine turning and to keep myself warm.

A small climb to Plateau des Lacs and Pas de l'Enviou later, I reached Chalet de la Barrière. There they built a huge camp fire. It was so nice to sit around it, looking at the flame and enjoy a hot drink. After that it was the infamous long technical descent to Riouperoux. I took it really slow since I knew I was way ahead of time cutoff and I could actually achieve my goal which was to go beyond Riouperoux. The thing about steep descent wasn't only about avoiding injury but also keeping a good form so that the descent won't excessively fatigue and destroy my legs. So slowly but eventually I reached the bottom of the valley at Riouperoux, also the second main aid station. It marked the end of Oisans/Taillefer, also the midway point of the course. Once reached the station, I headed straight to sleeping room and slept for an hour. It had been 23 hours since the start of the run.

Belledonne

Traditionally, Riouperoux is the point where many runners will choose to abandon. I can totally understand why because I know it too well. Last year, this was also the point I chose to abandon. One doesn't have to run the course to know why. Standing deep at the bottom of the valley at Riouperoux, sandwiched in between Taillefer and Belledonne, you will wonder how the hell to climb up to either side. Each side is at least a kilometer of vertical rocky mountain range, enough to demoralize most runners.

I was one of them last year. But I was a different man this time around, stronger and wiser. At Riouperoux I really took my time, took a bath, had a good breakfast, etc.. However, not so wise move I did was to have an expresso. The expresso was thick and tasty but I would get to know the effect later on. After that, here started the second day, second part of the course, by a monstrous climb to Arselle - the vertical kilometer.

The first half an hour of the climb I was flying. But then the caffeine kicked in, my heart was beating unbelievably fast, and I was having some sort of hyperventilation. Normally I should easily finish the climb within one and a half hour, but I took me nearly 2 hours. The drumming heartbeat really worried me and I thought this was the end of the race for me. Luckily, everything calmed down and I found back my rhythm after reaching at Chamrousse.

The second day was the total contrast of the first day : rain and rain and rain. Although I was totally fine with the cold, the wet rocky surface really turned me down. At the same time, thick fog was forming throughout Belledonne. For security reason, the organizer decided to cancel the route to Refuge de Pra and the climb up Grand Colon. From Recoin Chamrousse, the route headed straight to Lac de Freydières. Less climb to do, but the distance was still more or less the same. Instead of passing through high mountainous route, we all headed into the forest path. It was 17kms of forest between Recoin and Lac de Freydières, it was so long, plus the fog reducing the visibility, this 17kms was so damn yawntastic. At the mean time, the rain just kept pouring. Also during this part of the course, I met a few others that I couldn't remember their name anymore. There was no obligation or anything to stick together. I guess we were the same level and had the same speed. So we were moving as a group for a really long time. From this point on, the run had became a team sport for us.

Thibaut came to Lac de Freydières to meet me again. Man! This guy, seriously! Came to see me for the third time! I really appreciate his presence. Most people might never understand how important moral support is to the runners during an ultra unless they themselves have participated in one. Seriously though, to him might seem like nothing. But to me, it means a lot.

The cold had been intensified by the continuous rain. Sitting in the pit stop of Freydières while holding a cup of hot soup, I could still feel a little chilly. We didn't rest for too long. Even though the third, the final aid station Saint Nazaire les Eymes was still quite far away, all it left to do until there was either descent or flat. It was worthier to move on faster from Freydière and take a longer rest in Saint Nazaire. So we moved on.

Soon later, the rain seemed to stop. Good news. But the mud it left behind, not so good. The mud turned the descent into borderline fun and misery. I tried to slide down like skiing, but since my legs were not in their top form and sports that required a lot of balancing had always been my Achilles heel. Sometimes I slid down successfully, sometimes not and had to regain my balance with my hands. After the descent, everybody was covered with mud from knee down. Those who had fallen, more mud stain for them.

10kms of flat land later, at 18h00 we reached St Nazaire aid station. The end of Belledonne. 35 hours into the race. The first thing I did - hot shower!!!

Chartreuse

The shower was really needed. Nothing was better than a hot shower, dry clothes and dry shoes without mud. Until this point I still haven't mention a word about the volunteers. What can I say, they were amazing. The conviviality they offered and their up-beat attitude had no doubt helped every runners to get through each of their low points. At the food station in St Nazaire aid station, I was taken care by two aunties. All I did was just sit down and they fetched me everything I wanted. They took care of me like how my grandma would. In fact, not only me got this kind of treatment, every runner was well looked after.

I was originally thinking of getting a massage. But I saw there was some queue for the massage while nobody at the kinésiotherapy line. I thought why not. I had never tried it before. So I went for a session of kiné. What the doctor did was actually a lot of stretching, and some sort of chiropractic care. The session was fun, I totally enjoy it. After that, I took 30 mins of nap.

I left at around 20h00, slightly earlier than the others in the group from Belledonne. I said Vercors was the entree, Oisans/Taillefer plus Belledonne was the main course, and Chartreuse was supposed to be the dessert. It was supposed to be easiest among four of them. But again the intermittent rain and the mud transformed the entire Chartreuse into hell. Mud was the theme of the night. While descending in mud can be fun, now imagine climbing up a muddy path. Every step I took, because of the mud, I slid two steps back. Some passages were straight out dangerous all because of the slippery mud. Seriously, one misstep could mean falling ten meters down. Mentally I had to stay sharp despite of sleep deprivation. Every step I had to be sure of the grip. It was not only physically exhausting, mentally I was also tested to my limit.

Even it flattened out a bit after Col de la Faïta, the mud was still there. In fact, it had worsen. It was the kind of mud in which you take a step, your foot sink in a little and stuck, and it actually needs some effort to pull your leg up to take another step. Shoes covered with mud was certain. I stumbled, I fell, for a few times. My legs and my arms were also covered with mud. During the whole night I just wanted to curse out loud out of frustration. The only thing that kept me going was the other runners. We were all taking it in together, suffered together. Even though everyone was in deep shit, but I knew the strength we all got was each other. Finally with Habert de Chamechaude in sight after what felt like hundreds of hours, I was relieved. The volunteers there were surprised seeing me without trekking poles. Only then I knew, in fact, the organizer had decided not to let any runners without poles out of St Nazaire aid station to tackle the Chartreuse massif at a few hours prior because of the muddy condition. I was lucky to be able to continue because I left St Nazaire just before the decision was taken.

Since the organizer also cancelled the climb up to Chamechaude, after Habert, it was all downhill all the way to Sappey. Sliding down the mud started again. If I really need to pick out my lowest point of the race, this should be it. It was the moment I kept asking myself why I did the race, why I did this to myself. I was frustrated, frustrated because I knew this part of route well and I just wanted to move faster to end all this quickly but I couldn't. I rushed and I fell. Some sort of hallucination also kicked in. Everytime I shone my headlamp onto the fluorescent bands along the route I thought I saw somebody and I wanted to greet him. Sleep deprivation had seriously blurred my vision and my judgement, slowed me further down. 8 hours! 8 hours just to go from St Nazaire to Sappey!

Reaching Sappey, all my strength was sucked out. I found a chair and like a puppet with all the strings suddenly cut off, whole body just collapsed on the chair. My desire to continue was dropped to almost zero. If mud got a face, I would seriously punch it. Angry yet disappointed because the mud had broken me, defeated me. The mud had became the demon, nudging me to quit. But not like this. "Not like this!" I said to myself. I won't leave all the previous effort, a total of 40 plus hours to go in vain. I knew this was the mental game now. I dropped my head on a table to take a nap, hoped to regain some physical strength to fight the demon until the end. I set the alarm for a 30min sleep, and surprisingly I woke up later by myself before the alarm went off. It was as if my mind was subconsciously telling me I still got some unfinished business to take care of.

At 5h00, I left to tackle the final climb of the course - Fort Saint Eynard. At last luck seemed to be back at my side, the mud had lessened to basically non-existent. At Fort St Eynard, the Sun rose. It just felt so good to see the Sun again. I knew I could reach the finish line in time now. However, hours of uphill and downhill had finally taken a toll on my right knee. Basically my knee hurt so much if I tried to rush downhill.

Col de Vence, Mont Jalla, and then Bastille. Walking the final few kilometers through Grenoble old town area, it was glorious and at the same time I was glad that I was back to flat land, back to civilization. It was early Sunday morning, not many pedestrians in the city. I wondered may be this was how soldiers felt when they came home after fighting wars unknown to many. Many were still cozy in their bed and I just finished a 50 hours race. That thought gave me chill. The final few hundred meters, despite my knee, I still made the effort to run, to the finish line. 160kms, almost 10000m of elevation gain, 50 hours and 36 mins later, at exactly 9h36, Sauron was destroyed. It was done.

It is done.

Epilogue

It would almost be a tragedy if no one was there at the finish line for me. Yet, this was the case for some runners. Lucky for me, I got someone. Guess who, it was Thibaut again! At the finish line, he fetched me a beer, the beer of celebration. For this race, I had kept myself away from alcohol for several weeks. It felt so good to taste beer again even though it was nine in the morning. This beer has gone down in history as the most delicious beer I have ever drink.

We were sitting outside of Palais des Sports. Holding my beer, with mud all over my legs, my body fully extended and relaxed. The world around me seemed perfect. The softness of the sunlight, the warm air touching my skin, the quietness of Sunday morning. I had so much to tell Thibaut about the adventure, and being a good sport, he listened attentively. I felt like I could die there and I would have no regret. I truly believe that heaven isn't some place one can go to. It is how you feel for a moment in your life when you are in harmony with your surrounding.

That's why heaven won't last forever. That's why reality is cruel. I thought I could finally sleep well after race but no. I woke up at five the next morning, thinking that I was still in the race. My mind was still in the restless state and I still hadn't pulled myself out of it. Paradoxically, part of me wished that the race was still going on. It was something so difficult to achieve, the process was so long, that once I reached the finish line, I felt lost and didn't know what to do. That morning, I had to actually sit down for a long period of silence looking out at the mountains, to convince myself that it was OK to let my guard down now and the race was finished already.  

Chessy to say but I guess life goes on. A goal, two years of pursuit, failure the first time, seizing the opportunity the second time. My Ut4M story has been a good story but now it needs a closure. The search for the next heavenly moment begins.

Special thanks to

Thibaut, Cyprien, and Louis