UTMB part 1

The sun is now quite hot. The bell for the Angelus is long past. He was supposed to be here 10, 20 minutes ago so where the hell is he? The noise gets louder and louder. Cowbells, clapping, cheers, shouts of 'Bravo!', hands banging on the hoardings. I am on tiptoes leaning over the barrier. Is this runner going to be the one? What will he look like? Will he be running or shuffling? Smiling or grimacing in pain? Will he know I'm here?

I wasn't going to be there. It had been in the diary since January but just a few days before I was due to fly to Chamonix, I wasn't going. I won't share the reasons for that, but that situation only made the UTMB weekend even more emotional and exhausting. Everything amplified a hundredfold.

The four days before the race were spent more or less as a runner’s version of a soigneur. Three of us in an apartment on the Rue des Pecles: my fella Steve, Paul- a mutual friend- and me. Steve was having a second attempt at UTMB, Paul was running CCC and I was a reluctant crew. Paul has told his story elsewhere and other than giving him a bit of a pep talk one morning as we ran round the Chamonix track and having to strongly encourage him to get up in time to catch his bus to the start, I had very little part to play in his Alpine journey.

I shopped, cooked and did general domestic duties for both runners in the lead up to their races and tried to fit in some of my own training round their needs. Keeping myself very busy was also a way of trying to keep my own anxieties at bay, or at least hiding them; it was hard being back in Chamonix after Steve's DNF in 2016. A result that I know I am largely responsible for- I got things wrong from the first crew point at Les Contamines and it went downhill (metaphorically only!) from there. Having been with Steve as he completely broke down after what was his first DNF I never wanted to see him so devastated and broken again. This time round I got half of what I wished for…

Race Prep

Steve is always meticulous when it comes to race planning. He really researches kit, learns the course profile, pays careful attention to mountain weather forecasts so when it comes to race day he’s well prepared for any eventuality. He will give me a spreadsheet with a range of times on it- usually a ‘dream’ finish time, one or two ‘those will do fine’ times and a ‘just get round’ time and each of those will be broken down into expected arrival at CP times including allowances made for ascent, descent, if it’s running in the dark, or for slowing in the latter stages. And all measured against what each CP cutoff time is. I don’t know how he does it! This time he’d also bought a book all about preparing for and running UTMB and honestly it became his bible. I’ve never known him adhere so closely to advice about running, diet and race prep!

In 2016 we spent a lot of time talking about and making notes on how we were going to manage things- I still have my notebook and a couple of photos from then. This time we left most of that til just a few days before the race and actually there was a lot less to discuss and my notes are far less detailed. I suppose we were able to be better focussed because we’d learned from previous experience and I think in some ways Steve was able to be a little more relaxed about it all so didn’t feel the need to have several detailed discussions. CP actions points were boiled down to a few practical things and a few key words. To help us both I tried to keep things in the same order every CP and to ask the same things in the same way each time; he was likely going to get stupid or incoherent as he went into the second night and I was going to be just as sleep deprived so reducing interaction to a simple routine seemed sensible:

• Start a 15 minute timer on entry to CP
• Swap food bag/ check nutrition/ make him eat
• Swap power bank
• Clothes- hot/cold? 
• Feet
• Sleep?
• Time’s up, get out

Other than that I made sure I had listed what kit/nutrition I needed in the bag and got it packed ready for Champex then packed a carrier bag with what I would need for subsequent CPs so I could just take out stuff after Champex and replace with the second bag. I stuck labels on the internal pockets so I could see straight away what was where- we didn’t want to waste time at CPs. I didn’t stress too much about buses to CPs. From two years ago I knew that it could be tricky getting a space on a bus and this time I was better prepared to have to wait around.

It’s as important for crew to do some mental preparation as it is for the runner, especially when it’s a particularly long or challenging race or where the runner has a very specific goal or desired outcome. An interview with Scott and Jenny Jurek on Talk Ultra a few years ago when he beat the FKT on the AT really made an impression on me, and I’ve watched the Barkley Marathons documentary, the film about Karl Meltzer’s AT record and ‘Where Dreams Go To Die’ about Gary Robbins’ Barkley attempts so I was under no illusions about the role of crew and just how hard it can be. However, as I knew from 2016 it’s one thing to know how hard it will be and another thing altogether to be in the situation and handle it right, especially when you’re crewing the person you love. But I spent quite a bit of time imaging different race scenarios and talking myself through what I would have to do or say to prevent another DNF. I also spent time worrying about how would I know when it was right to say just suck it up and get it done, and when I might need to be a bit sympathetic. The wrong words at the wrong time or forcing him out of a CP when actually a nap would be best could have a devastating impact on Steve’s race. We become so raw, so stripped back to the barest bones of what a person is when we run longer ultras, and at the same time as discovering how tough we are we also become so fragile.

The majority of those few days before the race Steve was resting, taking naps and conserving energy. We didn’t do much together- no runs or hikes- and that was hard for me even though I understood why it had to be that way. The worst day was the Friday itself. It was an unsettled night as Paul was going to be off early for CCC, and I guess the fact that it would be Steve’s last night in bed until Sunday weighed heavily on his mind. Sleep is never easy when there’s pressure to have to sleep!

Race Day

The day itself was a day of refusing to look at the huge elephant in the room- all the prep had been done, there was no point in wasting energy with further discussions or worries although we had one last chat about whether it was still the right decision for me not to go to Les Contamines. Steve needed to be really peaceful and I think he did retreat into himself somewhat, or at least that’s how it seemed, and I was reluctant to disturb that. UTMB has been a goal for six years and he needed to do everything possible to be ready to deal with whatever the race would throw at him in order to at last be a UTMB finisher. I can’t really remember what I did that day other than feel more and more oppressed with a sense of impending doom.

We headed down to the start about 4pm I think. It was raining and rather cool so we took shelter in the church there. While we were waiting I indulged my one superstition and lit a candle. It was at an image of the Virgin Mary and there was something in the prayer on the wall about her being with you on your journey or something along those lines (my French isn’t great). I am not religious but it felt the right thing to do to light a candle and stand silently for a few moments. At some point Steve decided he needed to head out so he wouldn’t be too near the back when the race started so a quick goodbye and I headed off to where Rue des Pecles meets the main road. I really didn’t want to be amongst the big crowds and hype right near the start (and the music which I really hate) but I knew that half a mile on it would be a bit quieter and I’d be able to see Steve just before he hit the trail to Les Houches. It was hard to keep back the tears- just as in 2016 it felt like I was sending him to a dreadful fate- but I knew I had to to be at least businesslike even if I couldn’t be cheery.

And so my long vigil began.