Feels a bit like this.....
I felt really confident on the build-up to the race and was definitely looking for a "racing" performance, not a "just enjoy the day out" event. However, right from the start I just felt that I had nothing in my legs, within 3 hours I was pretty wrecked, by 4 hours I was sitting down in an aid station contemplating a withdrawal.
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| Registration |
I stayed at the Col du Petit St Bernard for about 25 minutes, feeling very sorry for myself but managed to get some liquid in me. Looking at the next leg to Bourg St Maurice, it was downhill all the way for about 15km, so I thought I'd give it a go. After half an hour I thought I was starting to turn things around, but as I dropped further down into the valley, the temperature went higher and higher, reaching somewhere around 38 degrees in the town centre. By the time I reached the checkpoint, I could hardly walk in a straight line, felt dizzy and was vomiting. I lay down for half an hour but just couldn't cool down and began to realise that going on to the next climb had "helicopter evacuation" written all over it. I met up with a couple of other runners, Noel and Sandy along with their support crew, and these folk really looked after me, but I was a lost cause. I rang Tracey (first time ever in a race) and had a good chat with her, but I was in a real mess and knew that there was only one option. After something like 90 minutes in the checkpoint, I finally withdrew from the race. It actually felt like a relief at the time and even now, after all this time, I do not regret the decision. A couple of days later, Tracey and I met one of the ladies that helped me get back to Chamonix. She commented that she works in a hospital and has seem quite a few dead bodies, most of which looked much better than I did during that time in Bourg St Maurice. I wish I had some video footage from that time to see just what a state I was in.
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| On the Bus of Shame - a broken man |
I feel that I got lots of things spot on in my preparation, but after some deliberation, I know there are certain points I have to address if I'm going to go back and get revenge on the course.
My general periodisation for the year worked really well. In 2015, I felt that I was a little jaded by the time I got to the Lakeland 100 in July and the TDS was a full month later. With this in mind, I held myself back in training over the winter, not really pushing training until I was nearly into March. This paid dividends as I felt like I was kicking on with my training as summer approached.
I got in lots of big climbs, mainly using Skiddaw and Blencathra, regularly doing double and triple summit visits in one session, always using poles, getting to the point where I was really comfortable with them.
I had my kit totally dialled in Click here.
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| Kit check |
When we arrived in Chamonix, two and a half weeks before the race, I felt really fit and raring to go. I had planned three specific training runs to do in those first few days. Two power hikes up to around 2500m with an easy run down, just to get used to some altitude, plus a recce of the route from Les Contamines to the start of the last climb. Again, I felt great on these sessions Click here.
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| The final climb - Col du Tricot |
Even standing on the start line in Italy at 6:00am, I still felt supremely confident - so what went wrong?
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| Start in Courmayeur, Italy |
When we first arrived in Chamonix, it was hot but not ridiculous. I was powering up the mountains and feeling good. For the next three weeks it just got hotter and hotter and, thinking back, I was always struggling to get on top of my daily hydration, probably putting myself further and further in debt. As I was tapering after those initial training runs, dehydration was never really a problem, but I was obviously getting into a state of general dehydration.
To compound this, we spent way too long out in the heat of the day going for long walks, exploring the valley. I'm not a professional athlete, this is our main holiday of the year and we love exploring. But again, 3 to 4 hours every day in the heat must have had a cumulative effect, slowly sapping my power for the race.
I think I left a bit too much of my preparation to the day before the race, spending a lot of the day faffing around, getting everything ready when I should have been sitting with my feet up, relaxing. Looking back, I was definitely using up nervous energy. This is purely a logistics error and it's bloody annoying to make it!
All of this could have been irrelevant with regards to getting round the course if I hadn't been so bloody minded at the start. What I should have realised, very early on, was that it was not going to be a day that I could race round one of the toughest ultra courses out there. I live and train in the wettest place in England and to try and race in that oppressive heat for the best part of 24 hours was suicidal - and so it proved. What I should have done was re-evaluate my goals for the event and gone for the "enjoy the day out" approach instead of racing. However, I had spent six months training to race this time and my brain was too stubborn to let go of that. I told myself, early on, that I was feeling like crap because it was so early in the morning and I'd only had a couple of hours sleep - keep pushing through it and you'll be fine #fail.
I feel that I have taken a lot on board from this experience and am determined to go back and get a TDS finish to my name. I have no problem with any person beating me but I hate being beaten by a course. So, I have just entered the TDS for 2017 and will be keeping my fingers crossed for the ballot in January. Significantly, I have decided to do my racing in the UK next year, having a crack at the Hardmoors Grand Slam, leaving a TDS finishers gillet as a target for Chamonix. Sounds like a plan.
