MILLY VOICE

While my brain is still buzzing, and perhaps to try to help me to try make sense of it, I thought I would break down the past 36 or so hours. It does not feel real, and in some respects, feels so vivid I cannot think of much else.

For sure, this will pass as normal life imminently kicks in, but just for a moment…

Here we go…

Intermittent, but fairly restful sleep preceded the “alarm of doom” at 4am on Saturday, 13th August. We headed to the race area to watch the 50km start, before getting ready to kick off the 100km. I will admit, I was nervous. Long training days did not surmount to the race volume (it never does), but the prospect of what was ahead, at 6:15am, felt a bit overwhelming.

We were told in the race pen, that the race had had to make an emergency change of course – actually, in our favour – diverting away from the treacherous climb to Chäserstatt (due to aggressive shepherd dogs on the hill). We would be instead, repeating a ground traverse. This threw me a bit, as I was constantly visualising the original route profile and subsequent estimated timings. However, this was smoothly handled and executed by the race organisers, considering, what I imagine was a huge organisational feat on their part.

I will break down the next bit in terms of sections of the race:

1. First 30km

I placed myself at the mid to back of the pack. It was nice to start the race without too much concern with this. I don’t normally enjoy the first hour of racing! Starting, I felt pretty comfortable after a really decent taper time, and took the first hill to Küboden steadily. It was tricky, as I felt strong, but kept telling myself this was not going to be a short jaunt, so I needed to remain steady. The sun came up fully during a very enjoyable trip to the Aletsch Glacier trails, showing an amazing panoramic of the longest glacier in Europe.

I had been eating consistently every 30 minutes, and all systems felt, so far, good. The descent was technical to Niederwald, and took a little out the legs, but the head game was there. I was happy to reach the checkpoint on the descent and re-stock, preparing for what I expected would be a somewhat interesting middle section.

2. Around 50km

My mind keeps replaying this part of the race. From Niederwald (around 27km), we were meant to head to Reckingen before the part of the race I had been dreading: the long and remote route to Chäserstat – a particularly brutal looking climb. However, due to the race re-direction, this was now taken out – bonus! Or so I would have thought. We now were going to re-lap Reckingen to Niederwald. This now was a relatively quick part of the race, in the full heat. The race overall now had less ascent and was even now a little shorter, but any repetition is not easy, and I am not good on the flat or in the heat. I was aware through counting the women on the return track where I might have been placing, but as this was not the trajectory of the day, I tried not to think about it. From here we climbed a new route to Chäserstat, where I could feel the energy sapping in a way that food and hydration were not fixing.

The mind low.

This got worse. The section from Chäserstatt to Binn, at just after the midpoint, goes to quite a remote area in the heat before a steep climb. I was grateful for David, a runner ahead who I was about to catch up to on this ascent. We kept conversation and this helped distract me from losing my marbles until the brow of the hill, where he went full pelt down. I was now alone, and found the descent very difficult for the majority of this hill, until nearer the end where I could feel my brain coming back.

That is a concept I find difficult to contemplate, and on a much longer race becomes more acute. As ultrarunner Ryan Hogben reminds me, it is essentially, the “Chimp Paradox”. The wrestling that comes within yourself when tested, in endurance feats such as ultramarathons. One moment, I would feel upbeat, strong and even cheerful, to then struggling with the fatigue and battling with myself, without rationalising, in the moments, between states. Time also takes a funny perspective. Most of the time, I had no idea of time of day. When all this is going on, all I could do is check the vital systems (“have I drunk enough?, When did I last eat? How is the temperature? What do I need?), and hope for the best, and attempt to tame the beast that is, my own chimp.

Catharism was one strategy I had. I allowed myself, in difficult moments, to get very angry at mum’s cancer. The burst of adrenaline it would produce, worked wonders on grittier, steeper bits.

Overall, I was very grateful to get to Binn. The “home stretch” left.

3. 65km until the end

The final section started off quite well. I did not spend long in any checkpoint (I did not dare, for fear I would not leave!), but I really was able to equip and refresh well here. I met my pacer (who had been crewing me, more on that in a moment) and I was grateful for a familiar face and the feeling we were now heading home. Sandy and I run at a near identical pace, but this stage would be unsurprisingly slower than our normal training runs, 65km in. I initially chatted away, moving relatively well and feeling strong and ready for the final summit, the Briethorn.

Except, I had not really taking into consideration what this ascent might feel like on such tired legs. I struggled and swore my way up this climb, having moments of feeling a bout of focus before needing to re-group on repeat between remembering to hydrate and get in a gel. Thank goodness it was still light (not the easiest path, I imagine, in the dark) but was more of a battle than I had prepared. The reality of there still being well over 20km ahead was not something I could focus on too much. We were grateful that the descent path down was steady and wide, as I was a bit over technical descents by this point.

The final part of this race was tough. It looks on the profile, small fry (compared with say, the Breithorn section) but it was mainly along trails full of tricky obstacles such as roots and rocks which in the dark on aching legs feel a hundred times more difficult.

Original profile shows how Grengiols until the end, should comparatively, be easy….

By the time I finally sensed the end, my face folded. The race director, as he had promised, was there to meet me. This was a special moment, as he knew what this race meant to me.

And so, here are some of the many thanks I need to give:

Sandy – I am not sure without his consistent crewing and pacing for the final 35km that I would have finished in any form of strong position. He had to take every emotion from me under the sun - I can vouch for that distance not always showing the best of you and I wish I could say I smiled through every mile. I did not.

It was not until we finished, did I realise how heavy his running pack was – with stuff, just in case I needed it. Truly, grateful.

Jakob – director for the SwissAlps100. From the beginning, Jakob has been unbelievably supportive, from offering a place in the race once he knew of my wish to raise money for Macmillan, to helpful advice and support over the months. Meeting him yesterday over that finish line was an emotional moment. He is a remarkable man, and in charge of a truly legendary race series – I encourage you to check it out for yourself for 2023. It promises quite the adventure…

Mum – My mum never once doubted I could do this. She offered support throughout the day which was relayed to me, and has been my right hand woman in us trying to raise money for Macmillan – a charity that has helped so many people, like Mum, fight cancer.

She is the strongest person I know. As I uttered to myself in low moments, I would do this race 100 times over if it meant she had not had to have had this. I hate what she has had to go through. But love is the strongest thing. I really, really love you Ma.

And we did it! The JustGiving link is here – we are so grateful for anything you are able to contribute.

Thank you, truly, to everyone for your kind words. It has meant, the world.