The TransRockies Run

The TransRockies Run

After a few weeks back at work, I was off on my running travels again, though this time across the pond to what seemed like a gentleman's version of my multiday events. The TransRockies Run is a 6 day run covering 120miles with 20,000 feet of elevation gain, but you do not have to carry all your kit with you. Tents are set up every day by a camp team, there is a recovery area in the camp serving unlimited snacks and beers, there are often places to go to buy lunch such as a nearby town/pub/BBQ, a shower truck is at camp every afternoon/night and breakfast + dinner are unlimited selfservice buffets. For those that don't even want this level of slumming it (you can also pay extra for an individual tent rather than sharing with another person), a hotel option is available (though those doing this seemed to have very early transfers back to the campsite for breakfast in the morning!!). I had heard about the TRR several years ago, but thought it was a pairs event so discounted it as who would put up with running with me for 6 days on the trot??!!! A bit of research this year showed me that there are actually very few pairs in the event and most people run it individually. I thought the Rockies would be a beautiful places to visit/run and so was sold!!

My number for the week

Acclimatising in Boulder for a day

The one thing I hadn't really factored in was the altitude. On landing at Denver airport, you are already higher than Ben Nevis, and this is still well below the lowest point of the race. A little jog and some sightseeing in downtown Boulder the next day left me puffing and panting and wondering what on earth I'd signed myself up for, especially as everyone on the shuttles (that took us on the 3 hour drive to the race start/registration at Buena Vista) seemed to be a seasoned altitude/ultrarunner!

Day 1

Everyone ready for the off...

This was the "easy intro day" as it was at a lower level (the start at Buena Vista was at 8000feet and the highest point was 9500feet) and we didn't have to carry mandatory kit. However, it was to be our first day of 6, and was reported to be the hottest, sunniest and driest day of the week which would pose its own challenges. We had chosen to camp at the Day 1 evening camp, so although we had to source our own breakfast prior to the bus to the start, we didn't have to pack up all our belongings....so again we were "eased" into the event.

With Catriona at the start

The route map showed that the run would be approx 22miles (I learnt over the week that distances were often "slightly" longer than advised) with 3000feet of elevation gain, and we had been advised that gaiters were recommended for the sand. Having run across deserts, I didn't think the sand in the Colorado mountains would be that bad, so didn't bother with gaiters...which seemed to be the right decision on the day. At registration, I had chatted to Catriona, a lass who originally hailed from Edinburgh (so we found that we had several running friends in common) but now lives in Arizona. She was doing the 3 day option and having done so the previous year, advised me that there was no need to carry a pack on day 1. I put my sunnies on my head and just took a waterbottle with me, so was rather perturbed to see her carrying a small vest when I met her on the start line - eek!!!

The fact that it was a long multiday event seemed to make no difference to the start, with some people haring off along the road, but maybe they had the right idea, as I was much nearer the back than the front when we started climbing up the singletrack trail. I managed to pass several people on the first climb, but was also nearly pushed off the edge of the trail by a man desperate to get past me and cut in "so that he could be next to his team mate" (I wanted to point out that it was a 2minute rule for teammate separation not 2cm but I held my tongue......well, that and the fact I didn't have much breath to spare).

The climb eased off and we turned onto a forestry road, so I managed a brief chat to a couple of runners going a similar pace to me before we split up again as we got higher and higher. I had hoped to have been able to run the whole of the first day, but I had had a few short walking breaks on the steeper inclines before I got to CP1 (at the high point). The sun was out and beating down very strongly, and I did feel rather hot and bothered, as well as short of breath. Unusually, I had finished my whole drinks bottle by the time I got to the CP, so I filled it up, poured some water over my head, took some snacks, thanked the marshals and set off again.

A long downhill let everything settle down again and I made up some more places, but everyone seemed to find it a long way to the next CP, as there were another couple of steep climbs, albeit much shorter, but it was now much hotter. I had no idea what was happening up ahead of me in the field, but I was just happy to be out running in such beautiful scenery, that I wouldn't have really cared what position I was in (well, I say that, but in the top 10 of the ladies' field would have been nice!). I was toing and froing with another lady all the way up to CP2 (though I found out later that she was in the 3day event, so we weren't even in the same category for results!) but on the descent from there I seemed to drop her. I was quite surprised to be still moving up the field as I ran downhill, but then again, I had started a long way back, and the descents weren't very technical.

Being "encouraged" by a fellow Brit!

CP3 seemed to be on the valley floor with just a rough road to run along to the finish. The marshals at CP3 offered me "chips, fireball or PBJ"....and not having much clue what they were talking about, I opted for "fireball".....never again, as this turned out to be a shot of cinnamon whisky :-( Eurgh....it took a lot of watermelon and jelly babies to clear my palate from that!! I'd been told that it was 3.5miles to the finish from there, and although I was rather hot, I thought I could just about make it, so my heart sank when the marshals told me that it was actually 5 miles. That road seemed to go on forever....and I learnt later that it wasn't the flat road that it seemed, as it gradually climbed the whole way. Just as I'd given up and was slowing to walk, another expat Brit encouraged me to keep going as the finish was just ahead (as it turned out - 4 miles from the last CP).

 

The Day 1 Podium!

I was over the moon to cross the line and tuck into more snacks and drink...before venturing down to the nearby river for a paddle (it was freezing and I certainly wasn't brave enough to go for full immersion). A bus then shuttled people back to Camp for showers, beers, a rest, a chat, the Stage awards, and our daily local history lesson. I was amazed to find that I'd finished as 3rd open female (so earning myself a handmade wooden stage medal), and so decided that I could just rest on my laurels for the rest of the week....as I'd already surpassed all of my pre-run expectations!!

Day 2

Morning views at camp

At first glance, this would seem an easier day, being only 13.5miles long and finishing with a shuttle transfer to the campground in town, where there were plenty of friendly cafes etc.....but the elevation gain over those few miles was to be 3200feet, with most of those climbed on a 2.5mile trail. We had to be up early to pack everything away so the tents could come down, and then boarded some old schoolbuses to go to the start. I was so keen on getting as many calories (and hot coffee) in as possible that I only just left the breakfast tent in time to catch the last shuttle. We wound up and up on smaller and smaller roads (so steep that the driver daren't stop for anyone to have a toilet break) to the startline at the Vicksburg (at almost 9700feet we were starting higher than the highest point on the previous day's run!!).

Climbing up to Hope Pass

The first mile and a half was a very gentle climb along a gravel road, and it didn't feel too bad, but then we turned sharply onto a singletrack and that's where the suffering started. It was about 2.5miles from there to the top of Hope Pass (12,600feet) but it seemed a lot longer. Don't get me wrong, it was an absolutely beautiful trail that climbed up through trees, across rocky screes and then up the open hillside, but I felt like I smoked 40/day and had lead for legs. On the lower sections, many people passed me going about twice my speed, but later on, we were a lot more spread out and I actually gained a place or two back. The view from the summit was amazing and I took a moment to appreciate it (though this time I knew enough to decline the fireball that the marshals there offered me), before heading down the (for me) dreaded descent.

Over The Top.....

The first mile of the descent was rather steep and rocky (with an added twist of a slippery snowfield to cross), but then I really enjoyed the next section down below the treeline. A couple of men careened past as I braked a lot more than them, but I was actually enjoying looking round at the scenery and views rather than running hard and looking at my feet/the floor. It was one of the most beautiful woodland trails I have run on!

Along the lakeshore

On reaching the lakeshore the path flattened and I picked up my pace, as I'd been running out of sight of anyone for a while and was slightly worried that I'd gone off trail. The lake (well there were two lakes one after the other) were absolutely stunning as they came in and out of view between the trees, but I couldn't work out why every slight bump in the trail felt like a mountain. then it dawned on me that although I might have felt as if I was running along my local trails at home, I was still actually at an altitude of over 9200feet). Once my addled brain figured this out, I relaxed, stopped struggling on the inclines and reeled in several runners who'd passed me earlier. The second lake seemed like one of those optical illusions - you never got to the end of it, as each corner opened up into another expanse, but eventually I spied the finish gantry and crossed it secure in the knowledge that there were shuttles to take us to Leadville (for showers, beers, a rest and ice cream shops!!).

Day 3

This was the longest day - at almost 25miles - and took us from civilisation (in Leadville), to a beautiful wilderness camp at Nova Guides where there were no other people and no phone reception. It was the last day for those doing the shorter version of the event, and though I envied them at times (usually on a long boring drag), I was actually really enjoying being out in such a beautiful part of the world.

Beautiful flowers even at altitude

The first couple of miles were on tarmac, starting right in the centre of Leadville, but even they undulated (it felt like there was a small mountain in the road within the first 500m!), so I managed to chat to Tyler (a lovely lady from California who was always a position ahead of me at the end of the day!) for a bit as we eased into our running. We soon turned off onto a 4WD track to climb steeply up the largest climb of the day, but after a while I had to ease back slightly from her pace, but it helped me to just keep her in sight (well until she ran away off the summit that is!).

I couldn't ever complain about the views

More climbing and descending took us into our first ski resort of the race, though it did seem very small and rather ghost-town like in the summer, but then again I only really ran across large empty parking areas. Shortly afterwards, we crossed the highway onto the Continental Divide and I joined forces with a guy called Ryan as we enjoyed scooting along the singletrack of the Continental Divide National scenic Trail. I had only had a few brief chats to Ryan on the previous 2 days as we passed each other back and forth, but this time, we stuck together for quite a long period and so he told me about where he came from (Boulder....so I reckoned the altitude must be easy for him!) and the YouTube videos that he makes of various races (I was rather alarmed when he swung his gopro at me and started recording!).

After we crossed the railway and entered a more rough/rooty/wooded section, I had a slight flag and lost him. In a way this which was rather fortuitous as I then tripped up and did a silly stumble/flail/trip/fall on the least technical section and so only had to suffer the embarrassment of a hiker asking me if I was OK, as he passed in the opposite direction (yes, I twisted a knee slightly, but it was mainly my ego that had been dented by the witnessed rubbish pirouette). The trail descended out of the woods and hit a CP on the gravel flats by Camp Hale (and old military training/PoW camp). The volunteers there asked me what I would like, and I joked that I would absolutely love a gin and tonic. To my surprise, by the time I'd grabbed some snacks and refilled my water bottles, I was handed a plastic cup filled with actual G&T. I tasted it....and it was perfect.....they definitely get my vote as the best CP vollies :-)

Woohoo - another podium placing

The next lady appeared behind me (she was leading the 3 day race) and thought me crazy for offering her some so I finished it myself, thanked them kindly and set off again. We had been warned that we needed a special mental toughness for those last 3 miles of gravel, especially as you can see the camp, but appear to have to head way beyond it before circling back....but having been fuelled by the G&T, I didn't find it so bad. In fact I managed to chase down a couple of guys that had previously been out of sight....and just ran out of race before catching the next few, though apparently I managed another 3rd place in this stage too.

Camp wasn't bad either!!!

Not a bad view for the Chill Out Zone

The camp was so worth the gravel...it was stunning...the tents were set up by an idyllic lake (in which we saw musk rats swimming) and there was even freshly BBQed food on sale to hungry runners who needed decent sustenance before dinner! That evening's entertainment also included a version of a beer "mile" (involving necking cans of the race sponsor beer and running reps on the first section of gravel road), which people had obviously prepared for in advance, as they turned up to run in either fancy dress, or swimming gear!

Day 4

Day 4 Start

The way we were about to run out of camp

We did seem a little depleted in number for the start of Day 4 as although some of the 3 Dayers came out to cheers us off, others had gone home, or were having more of a lie in (mind you, nights aren't exactly short when it's cold and dark as soon as the sun sets). This was going to be another shorter (15 miles) steeper (2800 feet of climb) day but reached a slightly lower altitude than Day 2, topping out at just under 12,000 feet. The start was back on the undulating gravel roads from the end of the previous day, but after a couple of miles we turned off onto a jeep track which climbed up Hornsilver Mountain. This track got steeper and steeper, and I have no idea how anybody would possibly dare take a jeep up there. There had been landslides which stopped vehicles going up (and hence we had to carry extra water etc), but even so, it would be a braver soul than me that risked driving up (and even more so down) that trail. As it was, everyone ended up with their hands on their knees plodding up (Ok so I was forced to admit that those with poles had a definite advantage again, but I manfully struggled on alone).

Worth the climb to see the mountains

Running along the ridge...

It was an absolute delight to reach the top of the climb, as the summit ridge stretched out for a couple of miles and the views were stunning. The footing was good and the altitude meant that it was only possible to run at a "sightseeing pace", so enabling me to appreciate both the views of the Mount of the Holy Cross and other rocky, snowy peaks surrounding me. All good things come to and end.....and it was soon time to start the long descent down towards Wearyman Creek. At first I managed to keep up with the guys I'd caught on the summit ridge but as the route got steeper and rockier, I instinctively slowed down and then didn't seem anyone for what seemed like forever. I figured that I really must have gone the wrong way as I'd been descending for over 3 miles, but finally another lady (Anna) came down and flew past, commenting on how long the descent was. I could hear splashes from the creek a long time before I saw it, but finally I was there....in it, getting my feet wet.

The route description mentioned about half a mile of creek, but in the previous night's briefing, they'd said that it was actually much longer (due to the excess snowfall and then melt in the past few months) - and that you couldn't avoid getting your feet wet in the chilly water. I seemed to be in and out of it after only a few metres, and hardly felt the temperature of it so couldn't see what the fuss was about....but then I rounded a corner and saw that I'd just had a tiny taster of what was to come.

Despite my lack of poles, I didn't feel that unstable both in the water and rock hopping along the banks....so I soon caught Anna (who did have poles and couldn't understand how I was managing without any) up and dragged her with me past a couple of guys who were floundering around. There seemed to be a few photographers around that stretch, so they must have been expecting some funny pictures as the water was freezing cold and did reach my knees on occasion.

Chilling with Anna

The last CP was just after we exited the stream, and I grabbed something to eat and drink whilst Anna powered on towards the finish. It was a weird sensation to be running down the dirt road from that CP, as my feet were totally numb from the cold water so I felt they must be slapping down all over the place. After the tough climb and descent, I felt more in my element now, so shot past Anna again and over the next last couple of miles another man came into view ahead of me. I caught him as we hit the edge of Red Cliff and we then had a sprint finish through town to the line outside Mango's pub. I waited for Anna and we got a shuttle back to camp, sorted our tents, had a shower and then returned to Mango's on another shuttle....and joined in the finish line festivities, cheering other runners in whilst drinking Margaritas on the deck! Not a bad way to finish a run :-)

Day 5

Typical single track later in the day

 We were shuttled back from camp to Mangos ready to start the penultimate day......a mere 24ish miles with 4100feet of elevation gain. The run started back up the dirt road we'd come down the evening before.....but continued on up the valley past yesterday's stream exit point/CP. Most of it was runnable but I knew there was a lot of climbing ahead so I decided to walk some of the early steeper portions. Anna was powering on today and although we started at a similar pace, she was less inclined to walk and so soon moved ahead, though remained within my sight for several miles. A few is the slower paced participants had started about an hour ahead of us, and I caught up to one lady after about 6 or 7 miles. She was moving quite slowly and resting on her poles fairly frequently, so I stopped to ask if she was ok. She looked rather cyanosed (her lips had a lovely blue tinge) and she was weaving a bit but declined any support or help. I ran on to a photographer I saw, but he didn't have a radio to alert the medical team. I debated going back to accompany her, but doubted what good I could do so carried on to a hairpin in the road where there were some supporters. They said they would contact the race organisers and the medical team and I pushed my own pace harder than I wanted to, as the CP was less than half a mile up the road. 

More "rubbish" views between the trees

On arriving there, I first had to catch my breath and slow my heart rate down, but then I spoke to the medics and relayed my observations and they jumped in the car to go down the road to her (I asked how she was later in the day and heard that she was ok......she had been like that on several occasions but always insisted on continuing further than advised to they kept a stern watch over her). There was little else that I could do, but I still felt rather guilty for continuing on my way......typical medic eh?

Mtn bike tracks

Higher and higher....

That CP was the point where we turned off the dirt road onto some beautiful single track that climbed up further through the forest. The trail was deceptive as you'd think you'd reached the highest point and start descending, only to hit another steep climb and end up above where you'd just been. There were a few mountain bike trails to cross (and mountain bikers to avoid) but eventually I found myself on the wide open meadows above Vail ski resort. It was stunning as you were either running between copses of aspen trees or through open expanses of wild flowers. I did fear that I'd gone the wrong way as I saw no other runners for ages, but I didn't really care as it was such stunning scenery. Once I'd made it into the ski resort territory I did spy a man ahead of me, and we eventually ended up running along together traversing the ridge. 

A friendly "marshal" by the CP

Flailing my way into the CP

The day's briefing had included a description of a "very technical section dropping through a cliff band"  but when I got there I was amazed at the description as it was such a short section, and the route itself was so tame compared to paths in the Lake District or the Scottish hills. The next CP was being guarded by friendly marmots, but I didn't stay long to admire them and soon headed off again. I'd thought that my new running mate and I would probably stick together for the next section, as we continued to undulate along the ridgeline on a mix of double track and gravel roads, but I was definitely moving the quicker of the pair of us. I thought I would be overtaken by many runners as I dropped off down the ski hill on a twisty rough single track section, but in fact, it was just me catching people ahead of me, both those that had started at the same time as me and some of the early starters, though by this point it was impossible to tell who was who.

Starting the descent to Vail

At the final CP of the day, they told me that it was a mere 5 miles to the finish, and it was almost all downhill on (dirt) ski access roads. These weren't "too" steep and so I was in my element. I flew down the hill at about 7 minute mile pace, passing all the rest of the early starters (and indeed a few of the others.....differentiated at this point by their relative speeds). There were many long switchbacks on that road....and I spotted the two ladies ahead of me as tiny little figures way down below (about 4 switchbacks ahead the first time I spotted them). I put them to the back of my mind and just kept pushing on as my legs were turning over nicely.....but I just ran out of race that day. I ended up coming into the Vail Athletic Fields less than a minute behind them both and they were kind enough to say that if we'd had another few hundred metres to go, I'd have caught them. That definitely gave me some confidence as my "broken legs" hadn't given me much grief and I seemed to be able to run OK as long as we were at a lower altitude.....happy days!

Day 6

The last day of this event was very different from the previous ones I have taken part in, as they all finished with a short run which, as positions had already been determined and were unlikely to change, we all tended to treat as sociable fun runs where you can chat with friends you have made over the week. The TransRockies was rather the opposite, as the final day was one of the longest (at about 23 miles) and had the most climbing in it (5200 feet of elevation gain). I have to say that I would much rather have had a shorter chatty run out as I was rather "over it" by this stage and just looking forward to finishing, but as we were going from the Vail ski fields to the smaller, posher resort of Beaver Creek, I had no doubt that the scenery would be fantastic!

Leaving Vail

The start was earlier than usual (I presume that this was to ensure that everyone finished successfully in time to either head home or attend the final banquet dinner) but breakfast was the same as every other day 😂......I'd actually become rather a creature of habit over the week, as I had developed a daily routine of rising, dressing, packing, eating and setting off. I met up with Tyler before the start - she'd had a bad day and been ill, so I offered to run with her so that we could both just complete the distance, but she urged me to run on my own and move up onto the podium. We waved goodbye to the tents for the final time and headed off at 7am - initially along the pavement of the road we'd run into camp along, but then back up onto the ski access tracks above town.

Just wow!!!

We dropped back into Vail and crossed over the interstate by way of an overpass, ran alongside it for a short period and then headed up into the hills. As soon as we left the tarmac, we were on the single track of Vail's North Trail. Despite the early start, it was already very hot as we wound up and up the hillside, so I was very glad of shady patches in which to cool off. I enjoyed the steady climb up another few trails to reach the high point of the day (at almost 10,500 feet) 11 miles in. 

Through the trees.....

I knew the descent back down Buck Creek was a fairly long one, but I hadn't expected 5 miles of it. I ran alone for a long way, surprised not to be overtaken but I did a fairly good job of talking to myself to ensure I didn't forget to pick my feet up on the rougher sections, and to just relax when the trail was completely overgrown with grass and plants. There's only so long I can do that before I start to doubt myself and so slow down and start worrying that I've either gone the wrong way, or that I'm about to fall base over apex. When this happened, I did finally see other runners......initially Anna, who said she loved the downhills on the course, and then a few guys who were rather keen for me to stop completely and leave the trail in order for them to pass. Hmmm......but at least I knew I was still going the right way.

Eventually I passed under the road, carried on descending, crossed the creek I'd been tracking and then climbed back up to the road.....where there was a very welcome CP (and water/snack point), though unfortunately they did not have the ice cream that I was craving. From there it was a lovely mile downhill on tarmac into town and so I just let my legs go and chased a couple of guys back down again. The "short" section through the town of Avon seemed to go on for ever with little ups and downs and I got through all the water that I'd filled my bottle with at the last CP as the sun was so strong.

Finishing with Richard for silly pics!

A week's swag!

Finally, I made it to the final CP, just at the top of Avon, where the trail headed back onto single track that wound up another climb of about 1000feet. I ate, drank and filled up then headed off towards that long awaited finish. The climb must have been not much longer than 3 miles but it was a toughie. I chatted to mountain bikers that were resting in the shade and even managed to beg some water from a photographer on the course (well he offered me a drink as he saw me heading off to a nearby trickle having already finished my bottle). I almost caught Anna on that climb, as although I found it tough, I was now climbing better than those around me (I put about 20 minutes into some guys I passed soon after the CP and they were leading their pairs category), but suddenly I popped out onto a gravel access road and started the steep (mile long) downhill run in to the finish. A wooden footbridge guided you across the main road and towards the ski lifts, but just as you thought you had to climb again, the gantry appeared overhead and it was all over!

The all-conquering British runners!

The final podium

Anna and I chatted over beers at the finish and then I waited for Tyler to see her safely in, which goes to show what friends you make over the course of such events. I'd finished as 3rd lady, but the memories and friendships I'd made were worth much more than my prize of a buff......I guess it was a run of a lifetime, as I'd never run with day upon consecutive day of amazing mountain views before.....and so definitely one to remember!

The Swiss Irontrail

I ran the Swissalpine K78 in 2011 and 2012. Memory is a fickle thing, as we tend to forget/minimise any pain and suffering and just remember the good things. It was looking back with those rose-tinted spectacles that gave me the idea of running it again this year. I know I don't have so much speed and drive these days, but thought I'd like another good day out in the mountains, and I remember loving spending a few days in Davos in the run-up to the event.

 

Eek....the "new" route!

Unfortunately I did not look very closely at the details when I entered....I spotted that the name had changed to the "Irontrail" and it was now called the T88 instead of the K78....but as the event approached and I looked at the details more closely, I started to worry. Not only had the distance increased by a few kilometres, but it no longer started and finished in Davos (previously there had been a long, flat - well net downhill - run along the valley from Davos to Bergun, followed by a climb up and over the Sertig Pass and back to Davos) so I would now have to catch a train to St Moritz at 4am, and then climb more than 2.5X the elevation gain of the previous event (and descend even more). I think the fact that there was now a 24hr cutoff and compulsory kit to carry (including a headtorch with spare batteries) rather than it being a day run was a bit of a clue as to how much harder it would be.

The route elevation profile

My friend Richard had come out with me and was going to run his first "marathon" (the K43, which did actually start and finish in Davos and went up a valley, over the Sertig Pass and back to Davos), but he was entertained by how worried I was about the changes to the event. My big fear was that I wouldn't finish in daylight and I'd be running down mountains and through forests in the dark, but after we arrived in Davos, I developed new worries about the weather and the altitude. It was so hot....about 29-30 degrees during the week in Davos......and I would start at 1770m and climb 4 passes (2460 - 2780m) before finishing back in Davos at 1560m!!

Something the Swiss do very well, is that they include travel in the cost of a race entry - so not only did we get a lovely train trip up to the mountains, but we could also travel around the area (eg taking the train over to visit St Moritz one day and down to Klosters to try our hand at breadbaking in an outdoor oven on another day) - and the local tourist tax then lets you take lifts up and down the mountains (a bonus if you want great views and an attempt at a bit of  acclimatisation without exhausting your legs). This meant that despite my misgivings about the actual run, I really enjoyed having a few days up in the mountains, and the heat just made it more conducive to sitting outside eating ice cream and drinking cold beer whilst surrounded by amazing views. Whatever happened on race day, it was worth the trip and the unwinding from the stress of everyday life!

Taking the train from Davos to St Moritz
at a more sociable time of day earlier in
the week :-)

I found it very hard to sleep the night before the race, so my 3am alarm was rather redundant. Still, I crept around getting dressed and making porridge and coffee so as not to wake anyone else, and headed off to the station in Davos Platz. The racer organisers had put on a special 4am train for us to get to St Moritz (free with your race number), so I actually ended up sitting in the first class carriage. It was dark outside but the carriage lights were on full so I could neither sleep nor look at the views.....and so ended up snacking most of the way there. I heard little spoken except German (with a smattering of Italian), so couldn't really join in any conversations (not that I'm that sociable anyway!!). On arrival at St Moritz they had kindly opened up a couple of cafes, so there were places to keep warm after dropping off "finish" and "halfway" bags. It was starting to get light and the cloud was lifting up from the lake towards the mountains...beautiful!

Early morning mist rising above the lake
at St Moritz

Due to the number of runners, there were significant toilet queues and I found myself still waiting 5 minutes before the start. I cannot say that this stopped me from stressing as it probably added to it, but I finally made it over to the starting pen just as the 15 second countdown began. Suddenly we were off, running out of the station, down the road under the railway and onto the lakeside path. I had managed to do 2 lots of damage to my right knee the day before (once twisting it going up some steps, and once banging it off the corner of my bed) and it hurt as soon as I started running....so that I doubted whether I'd even make it round to the far side of the lake where we were due to head off into the woods.

I ignored it as much as I could...and then actually found that I'd forgotten about it as I was enjoying watching the mist lift up from the lake as the day dawned. By the time I reached the climb up away from the lake, it felt fine and I was starting to move up past people through the field. I didn't really feel much flow in my running, but I put that down to the altitude rather than any (ahem) lack of fitness/training. I tried to ignore some course markers I spotted (as they implied that I was near the end of a marathon....hence obviously for a different event) and just enjoy the trail as it undulated over the first hill and down to Pontresina.

The runnable valley floor section

I couldn't believe my ears as people called out that I was the first lady as I passed through Pontresina (surely they'd missed someone? or several people?) but I had little time to muse on this as the first of our big climbs started there. Pontresina is at 1805 so hardly above the height of St Moritz but we had to get up to Muottas Muragi at 2452 in the space of the next 5k, so although a lot of it was actually runnable, I admit that I did some walking rather early on in the event. We passed a hut on the summit and I grabbed a bar and a drink and faced the first dreaded descent. The next CP was at Samedan (1721m) and most of the height was lost in the next kilometre. The path was narrow, rooty and rocky, so although I tried to "run" down it, compared to everyone else I was practically strolling. A lady with poles flew past me and I only just managed to avoid getting stabbed, though I admired the ease with which she bombed down and out of sight. The descent seemed to go on forever, but finally I hit the valley floor and my pace picked up again. I chatted to a couple of guys as I caught them up, and we enjoyed the early morning temperatures and views.

Runners approaching Samedan

The CP at Samedan seemed to involve running through a large sportshall, after which I got lost trying to get out of the car park (I found myself roaming between parked cars and stumbling down a steep grassy bank in order to get back onto the actual course, but after that the views were familiar as we ran up the valley to Bever and then turned 90 degrees to the left along the route of the St Moritz-Davos trainline towards the Albulatunnel (it was tempting to jump on a train just before it went into the tunnel as the race route went over the top of the mountain range that the tunnel was carved through and we were to rejoin it on the other side. The sun had now been out all morning and the weather was really heating up, but as this stretch of wide trail was really runnable I caught up to the lady that had previously overtaken me. She kept looking back and seemed to be "running scared". I would always rather be behind someone than in front (well, not everyone obviously) but I was just moving a bit more quickly and didn't want to alter my speed so I tried to be polite and friendly as I passed by.

On rounding a corner in the trail, I almost fell over a water station and an arrow directing me off 90 degrees to the right....and straight up a hillside. After the first few metres this was definitely not runnable, and although  usually prefer ups to downs, I didn't enjoy this one right from the outset. Not only did I find it rather hot, and the direct sun rather strong, but I couldn't get my body to work up the steep slope. My legs felt like they had little power, and I couldn't settle my breathing into a rhythm. When the aforementioned lady powered on past me, there was little camaraderie as I had to jump off the singletrack trail to avoid having a pole through my foot. The handful of men that passed me were much more relaxed and friendly, and as for the next lady, Luzia, well, she went out of her way to give me advice on powerhiking. She lives in Davos and said that the mountains were her playground and I was so grateful for her encouragement. My problem was mainly altitude related as it felt like I had claudication in my legs. I have only seen this in more elderly vascular patients - pain in the muscles of the buttocks/legs due to limited blood supply - so it was rather weird (and not very pleasant) to experience it myself!!

The mountain trails were beautiful

It was only a couple of minutes after Luzia passed that I finally reached the high point (2462m), and was surprised to see the marshal there had "4 Deserts" patches on his sleeves. I really hadn't know what to expect - I guess I thought I'd be going straight down the other side to the trainline - but the trail undulated for some distance over a rocky plateau before dropping down steeply to the Bergun valley. I hadn't seen anyone for what seemed like a very long time (I guess there was no one close behind, and all those in front were much better descenders than me) when I caught up to a familiar looking male runner going through a gate across a farmyard. He immediately recognised me and reminded me of when we'd both run the Oman Desert race (what a small world it is).....but he seemed to be finding it a bit tougher than me, as though we initially stuck together and chatted, he soon dropped back.

The weather changed with alarming quickness, and by the time I reached the next CP (where I stopped for a wee while as there were both cakes and chocolate) I was already quite wet. I'm so glad that I still got out my waterproof jacket, as it significantly deteriorated after that. It could have been a lovely run down the valley but unfortunately the trail was only about a foot wide, and in many places was about a foot deep in water. I couldn't see what was underneath the muddy puddles so had to be rather more careful with my footing as there were rocks and roots hidden from sight. At times it was like running down a stream, and even the pretty sections through woods became a nervous slip/slide on wet pine needles and mud. I managed a couple of to and fro places with guys as I approached the lowest point on the route (1367m) but was over the moon to climb to the town of Bergun - the main aid station where there was hot food and drink, our drop bags, seats in a hall....and I could drop out and get the train back to Davos!

I was cheered into Bergun as the 3rd lady, but I myself was more cheered about the thought of getting in out of the rain, sitting down, eating and drinking something decent and looking through the contents of my drop bag :-)  I seriously debated calling it a day there, as I knew that I had to go over 2 more passes that were higher than anything I'd yet climbed, maxing out at 2738m (and as I'd already been struggling, I couldn't see that it would be much fun). However, after a can of redbull, a restock of my bags, some food (obviously including chocolate) and a look at the map, I decided to continue onwards. I thought that from Bergun onwards, the route would be the same as I'd done in 2011 and 2012 (I remembered some stunning scenery) and worked out that even if I walked the whole thing, I wouldn't finish too long after nightfall (we had until 6am on the Sunday to finish, but I didn't really fancy being out long after darkness set in at 9pm).

The local support was brilliant (even
when the heavens opened)

The next section consisted of a very long gravel forestry road that just seemed to wind up and up into the mountains. I was to and fro between 3rd and 4th places now but it was quite sociable as we chatted every time we passed each her (her moving more quickly on the steeper sections....aided by her poles, and me when it was flatter and more runnable). We also bumped into a guy that I'd been chatting to on the run into Samedan when we stopped and filled our bottles up in a large watertrough. The weather had changed again, so it was back to waterproofs off and tucked away in our packs. Either my memory failed me, or the route had significantly changed from the original K78 (I'd like to think the latter), as I was on the opposite side of the valley from the one I remembered. The company had really helped me, but I was moving more quickly than I felt I could sustain, so I let them disappear off ahead of me as I gasped my way higher and higher (though I did regret that when I had to work my way through herds of cows on my own).

I nearly cheered with relief (except that might have taken more breath than I had) when I saw the Keschhutte in relief on the mountain up ahead of me (as it marked the first of the 2 high passes), but then I almost cried with disappointment when I saw that the route did not go straight up to it, but first descended to a CP on the valley floor and then climbed back up the other side again. I felt like I was crawling up that last climb, and several men poled past (and a lady doing the second leg of the relay), but I felt better as I started to recognise some of the rocky plateaus. It was a lot chillier higher up and then sun kept disappearing, but I was too lazy to put more layers on....instead I forced myself to run short sections. This must have been as much, if not more than others were doing, because I caught up with the relay lady and my Samedan mate just as they were leaving the chocolate and drinks at the Keschhutte.

Coming down into Sertig Dorfli
in better weather a few days earlier

My legs did not want to obey my brain much after that but I did manage to run a couple of miles across the undulating plateau to where we joined the K43 to climb to the highest point of both routes. I passed a few K42 runners on this stretch but guessed that Richard was miles away over the summit and heading towards the finish. There was a small amount of snow to scramble across and around, but as the CP was just before the top of the climb, the pass itself was a bit of an anticlimax. Some people were stopping to have their photos taken, but I knew I wouldn't be very good on the next stretch so just wanted to get it over and done with. My memory didn't fail me this time...it was a rough rocky steep trail down, but I managed to talk myself into staying focused and steady enough that I had no accidents, and was glad to be on firmer terrain heading (still with cows trying to block my route) towards the final checkpoint of Sertig Dorfli (the route descended about 900m in 5K so you can see why I wasn't exactly loving it). I overtook the relay lady as I could start to get my legs turning over on the old road down to the village, and heard the announcer calling out my name as 4th lady and 2nd V40 as I came into the CP (as both routes had combined, and the relay runners had swopped at Bergun, it was hard to work out who was in which event).

The final few kms through the
Davos woods

Richard and I had had a nice easy run down the last 11k down from Sertig Dorfli back to Davos itself a few days earlier, but there seemed little easy about it this time. Every incline seemed like a mountain, so I did take a few walking breaks.  It definitely took a lot longer than on the previous occasion, but as I looked at my watch heading into the final few kilometres, I released that not only was I well within my 15 hours "get in before dark" target, but that I was going to be comfortably under 12 hours. I knew that I could push the pace down the final forestry road, and so overhauled a few poor souls, and even managed to keep going up the short sharp sting in the tail that I remembered so well from previous years. Another quick glance at my watch shocked me to see that I'd run a 7:30 mile and if I pushed the last mile and a half I'd also break 11.5 hours for the course. I have no idea how I managed to squeeze a bit more out of my legs for a 7 min mile, but was over the moon to finally see the gate and entry into the running track up ahead of me.

Anyone on the podium seems to
"win" a sunflower?

Rounding the corner to the finish gantry!!

Half a lap of the track was all I now needed to do, so I did it with a smile on my face, coming in just a couple of minutes after Richard had finished his race (he was still in the finish area, as he said he'd no sooner crossed the line and grabbed a drink, when he turned and saw me run onto the track!). I was so happy to see he'd finished and was still looking (relatively) cheerful, as he had certainly opted for a very tough first marathon, but we celebrated with well-earnt beer and raclette halfway back to our accommodation!!

(Luzia won - I was secretly pleased that she'd passed the girl with the poles - but took the time to congratulate me on not only surviving and finishing, but to also have done it in a half-decent time - what a lovely friendly runner!!)