Them Swiss do big mountains!
Swiss Peaks 100k (it’s only 60 odd miles)
The big 50!
I began ramping up my running training after Spain and began working out some structured stuff in the mountains of the Lakes and Snowdonia, I know these areas well now so was able to come up with lots of different routes to keep things fresh. I also had to fit in my trainee mountain leader course which would consist of a week in Snowdonia, teaching me the skills I’d need when I go for my ML assessment.
Here we are pretending we knew where we were!
The ML training course was a great opportunity to brush up on navigation and team leading. There were six of us with one Mountain Leader running the course. It began with some classroom work and then a couple of days out in the hills, taking it in turns to lead the group and practice navigation, of course, the weather was shite and it pissed it down several times, especially during the night navigation exercise during the overnight expedition. But overall it was a good experience and I came away feeling pretty confident in my capabilities to pass the ML assessment. I just need to practice a few things, especially the rope work section of the syllabus. I was never any good at tying knots and I can’t stand climbing so I’ve always stayed away from using ropes and climbing up walls.
I’m really looking forward to becoming a qualified Mountain Leader as it seems the natural progression for me, I’ve got lots of experience to offer and like leading groups already. Apart from children, I can not possibly lead groups of children, it would be mental torture! As some know, I’ve got limited patience so I think it’s best to stick to adults..mind you, they can get on my tits at times too! Maybe that’s something else I need to practice, patience?
This year saw a big milestone in my life, turning 50. Where the eff had all the time gone? Seems like only a few years ago when I was off my nut in a club in Manchester every weekend, jumping around like a lunatic, pulling strange faces and talking absolute cod shit to the wall! But as they say, tis but a number and I don’t really feel much different. Apart from the annoying click of my ankles and the urge to let out a large groan each time I sit down..why do we do that? For my birthday, the wife and I went on a very nice but exhausting med cruise, we ate and drank to excess which was wonderful but in the back of my mind, I knew once back home, I’d have to get my arse in gear and do some proper training for the upcoming trip to Switzerland early September.
Lead up
I then spent the next several weeks building up my training volume and weekly elevation totals. This once again involved getting out of bed at daft o’clock to drive to Snowdonia or the Lakes over the weekend. I managed to tot up +10000ft of climbing per week and got pretty fit. As fortune would have it, we actually had a decent spell of weather, so it was great to train in the mountains and actually be able to see something, I was treated to some spectacular views. I also worked on my kit, foot care and nutrition. As you will know if you’ve read my previous blogs, my manky feet have de railed a few of my races recently so I was determined to fix the issue. Aside from the odd niggle, training went really well and I began to feel confident about the upcoming race. I began thinking of what performance I would like during the race, I was reminded of the UTS 100k and how long it took me to finish it. Surely I could improve on that time as long as my feet and quads don’t give up? Sub twenty four hours was more than achievable given my fitness and experience?
As my final long run before the trip, I decided to head over to Snowdonia to run the UTS 50k route. I’d completed the actual race a few years back so I knew what I was in for, it’s a tough route that takes in two ascents of Snowdon (Yr Wyddfa), perfect last minute climbing practice. The day went well, the sun was out and the views were fantastic. My pace and nutrition/hydration was spot on and I managed to get round the route in eleven hours. Very encouraging for my trip. Here’s a photo of me cooling my feet in a convenient pool near the end of the day, job done. I couldn’t do anything else, time for a bit of a taper to rest up and prepare for Switzerland.
Shite, I forgot my watch!!
After packing my kit a few times and pacing up n down the stairs regularly, the wife and I headed to the airport to get the flight to Switzerland. Everything went pretty smoothly and at the other side, we picked the hire car up and headed to the Hotel. It took me a few minutes to get used to driving on the other side of the road and we avoided any inconvenient traffic accidents.
We had a couple of days before my race, so we enjoyed being tourist wankers, took in the sights and rather expensive hospitality. Switzerland is quite expensive but very beautiful, worth a visit. However, they don’t have a similar no smoking policy in public places so every meal or coffee that we had was rudely interrupted by clouds of smoke. I as usual, sent disapproving glances in the offender’s direction that did not require a google translation…never worked though.
I also registered for the race the day before, as I knew I’d be panicking enough on race day itself. It was the usual affair, fairly well organised, with a range of marquees, some cheap euro disco crap blaring out of speakers the size of a van and a glimpse of the finish line. I always look at the finish line and wonder what state I’d be in at the end of the race, if indeed, I did finish the race. Maybe I’d be sprinting across the line like an Olympic athlete, or perhaps more likely, hobbling across like John Wayne with severe nappy rash!
There’s the finish, looking like a building site
Race day was upon me. It wasn’t due to start until 23:00 that evening, so I had chance to do some more panicking and more sightseeing with the wife. We went down to a town by the side of Lake Geneva for a wonder about and something to eat. It was a glorious day for a run in the hills. Later on, I tried to have a quick lie down in the Hotel but couldn’t settle and there was a thunderstorm passing over but fortunately, it was due to pass before the race start. It was time to head to the race HQ to get the train to the start, the route itself was a linear one, finishing at Lake Geneva. I said my goodbyes to Natalie and headed out to the car. I was just about to set off when I realised I’d forgotten my GPS watch, muttering to myself, I quickly headed back to get my watch. Good job I realised early, as we know, if it’s not on Strava, it’s not been done! The missus called me something, using some colourful language, and I headed back to the car.
Into the hills!
I spent the train trip to the start, staring out into the blackness of the night and trying to nod off, the journey only took around forty minutes. I looked around at the rest of the runners on the train, some were trying to do the same as me, others were waffling to each other in French or German or another strange dialect. The train arrived and we were deposited on the platform and into the cold mountain air, but at least it had stopped raining.
We had about an hour before the start, so I did my best to keep my mind occupied and put a warm layer on as it was getting cold, I was looking forward to getting started. I noticed a pop up cafe which was serving food and hot drinks, I fancied a brew. Once I realised the feckin price of a cup of hot milk with a spoonful of coffee in it, I quickly changed my mind!
Ten minutes before the start, I placed myself near the front so as not to get caught up in people dithering about during the first mile or so. The countdown began to a rousing chorus of some more euro dance shite and we were off. The melee began as the headtorches snaked up through the village and onto the mountain path for the first climb. The moon was out and the rain had stopped, I was in good spirits and felt comfortable, just being mindful of my heart rate and effort level.
I settled into a decent rhythm, keeping with a pack of runners as we climbed up through a forest and alongside a flowing stream. The night was still and I kept looking back a the line of headtorches behind me, there were quite a few so I must have been somewhere near the front. The summit soon approached and we headed down the hill to the village at the bottom, letting gravity do the work. The first checkpoint was located here, but I went straight past as I saw no point in stopping to faff about, this would also help put some time in the bank should I need it later. The next climb was going to be the longest, summiting at around 2500 meters. I knew this because I’d studied the race profile and downloaded it onto my watch. As we went through another section of forest, we were suddenly confronted by a huge gorge with a fast running waterfall. There was only one way up it too, hundreds of steps up a metal staircase, oh balls! It was a tough slog but I kept wondering what it would look like in the daylight, must be a stunning view but I couldn’t really see anything as it was pitch black apart from my headtorch. Finally reaching the top, the terrain levelled out a bit and it began to rain..great. I already had my waterproof jacket on so I didn’t need to stop and faff about. I plodded on along the track, eventually reaching a reservoir and the second checkpoint of the race. Looking at my watch, I’d only climbed about a half of the 2500 meters. It was getting cold and the rain was getting worse. I’ll dig out some more kit once inside the checkpoint and get a warm drink.
Inside, it was the usual melee of people filling water bottles and stuffing faces, all backed by some more shite music at a completely unnecessary volume. ‘I won’t be lingering here long’ I thought. Perhaps that’s why they do it? Play shite music so you don’t hang around long? Anyway, I did my admin, filled my face and headed out into the darkness, the wind and rain was getting worse by the minute and I knew from experience that the conditions on the summit would be grim.
Summit sickness
The flat section around the reservoir didn’t last long, we began heading straight up and my poles came out to help me up the climb. I kept looking up to see if I could make out the summit, but all I could see was blackness and mist. The wind and rain were doing their best to make the climb even harder, the rain was now coming in sideways. I just kept my head down and hood up, tightening the drawstrings to cover my face as much as possible. I felt quite sheltered in my layers and jacket from the awful conditions, there weren’t many runners around at this point for comfort and reassurance of being in a group. I casted my mind back to my experience of Cross Fell earlier this year during the Spine Race, very similar to today. I began to feel light headed and one side of my face and an eye ball were getting cold, I realised the temperature dropped and it was starting to sleet sideways, hence the feckin frozen eyeball! One plus of this realisation was that I knew I must be near the summit, I couldn’t check my watch as that would have exposed some skin to the bitter conditions so I thought, sod it, keep pushing on. Eventually, I reached the summit and very quickly began to descend, I began to feel better quickly. Not sure what the light headedness was, maybe altitude sickness? But shite, I was pleased to be off that summit. One tip, do not faff on any summit in shite weather as things can go pear shaped very quickly, get off there as soon as possible.
Halfway checkpoint
By the time I reached the bottom of the big lump, it was becoming light and the start of a new day. The clouds were beginning to break and the rain was slowing down, eventually stopping. I was feeling pretty good and moving well, so much so that I ran past another checkpoint without stopping. No point in faffing if it’s not needed. I also knew the half way checkpoint wasn’t too far away and it would be an opportunity to rest, get my drop bag and have something to eat that wasn’t effing flapjack or gels. I also noticed that I was running downhill pretty well and passing one or two runners as I went, seems all the mountain training and gym work was paying off. My feet felt fine too, another bonus!
The next stretch included some smaller climbs and then a gradual downhill alongside a narrow stream through a forest, rather idillic. The sun was out by now and it was becoming a rather nice morning to be out for a jog, I trotted along at a decent pace, taking in the scenery and listening to the constant chorus of cow bells from the herds in the fields. I saw one or two other runners but for the best part, I was alone, perfect. I’d already had enough of saying ‘merci’ and ‘bonjour’ anyway.
Eventually, I cleared the forest and arrived in a town where the halfway checkpoint was located, time for some rest but I was only going to give myself thirty minutes. Lots of time can be lost dithering in checkpoints, staring into space (eh Jonny?). Once I’d got my drop bag, I quickly sat down at a table, got some food and sorted my kit and feet out. Sort your feet out first Andy, taking my shoes and socks off, I subjected the other occupants to my bare feet and empty running shoes, balls to them, it already smelt rather pungent in there anyway. Liberally dousing my feet in talc, I began filling my face and replenishing my carry food and water. The time went very quickly, so I threw a change of shirt and socks on, packed up and headed out the door, leaving my drop bag at the exit. Oh shite! I hadn’t refreshed my anti chafe balm on my undercarriage. That would have been a grave mistake. I made a quick pit stop to the conveniences to apply the soothing balm in privacy. Probably wouldn’t have been a pretty picture to apply it while stood at the entrance/exit to the checkpoint. Us Brits already don’t seem to have the best of records while being abroad without me stood in public with my hands down my trollies massaging my codlings! Saying my goodbyes to the checkpoint staff, (no hand shaking) I headed out and onto the next section, feeling good, watered and fed.
Stupid poles
As soon as I left the town, the next hill appeared and this was the way the next few hours went by. If I wasn’t climbing, I was descending. Luckily the weather was still pretty good and the views were fantastic. Unfortunately, during the night, my phone got damp and had a meltdown so I couldn’t take any photos or turn the feckin thing on. Before the race, I mentioned to Natalie that I would message her when I could, but at least she had a type of tracker to follow. As I was attempting to fold my poles away, one of the poles broke. A section of it came away, the internal connecting string thingy broke. Oh you feckin tw+t I exclaimed. Thank god it wasn’t at the beginning of the race as my legs would have to take the full brunt of all the climbing. After a while of running along with the poles in bits in my hand, one nice spectator saw my issue and offered to take the poles away and dispose of them. I kept hold of one of them as one is better than none and thanked the lady for her help. I was gonna bin the damn thing at the next opportunity anyway.
So, for the remainder of the race, I trotted along and climbed the remaining hills with one pole. Muttering to myself as I climbed each hill about the stupid poles. I realised again that I was descending very well still, despite the efforts of the last few hours. I was running along with a group of others for a while and then quickly left them on a long downhill section. The uphills were becoming a drag though. My pace was painfully slow and I was breathing hard as I was climbing. The hills seemed to never end, but the views were fantastic. I realised I hadn’t eaten anything for a while, which probably contributed to my fatigue so I shoved a flapjack bar down my neck and that did the trick for a bit. I knew that I should keep myself topped up with fuel, but looking back, I think the saga with the stupid poles distracted me from my plan and discipline. The second to last climb was bloody awful. It was short but very steep, by the time I reached the summit, I was breathing heavily and had to sit down on a rock for a while. I took in my surroundings and tried my phone again for a picture, nope, still not playing. Looking at my watch, the sub twenty four hour finish target was still achievable and my mile splits were consistently quicker than the target pace. After my heart rate had lowered sufficiently and I wasn’t breathing out of my arse anymore, I headed down the final big climb into a valley, through another forest, eventually reaching the final checkpoint of the race. Only about six miles left!
The final stretch
Feeling a sudden surge of energy, I made another F1 pit stop at the checkpoint, swigging a quick drink and scoffing a couple of biscuits I headed out onto the last section of the race. I knew I was gonna beat the sub twenty four hour target, but I wanted to see by how much. It was getting dark by now so I dug out my head torch and switched it on as I entered another wooded area. Soon after, the feckin thing flashed telling me that the battery was low. FFS! The last thing I wanted was not being able to see and then going arse over tit on some tree root or something. The last few miles seemed to go on for ages, but the torch held out thankfully. I knew I was getting close to the finish as I could see the lights of the town in the valley below and I could hear the din from the finish line area. There was some of the standard euro dance shite blaring out, interrupted occasionally by a rather loud and over enthusiastic DJ making announcements as finishers crossed the line.
Finally emerging from the fringe of the woods, I arrived in the town where the finish line was located. I took in the applause from some spectators as I jogged along and then promptly went the wrong way and got slightly lost. After twenty two ish hours of continuous mountain running, I got lost right at the end! What a nob!
Running into the finish line area, I did my best impression of a plane moving side to side as I crossed the line (don’t ask), with the deafening sound of the DJ announcing my arrival. Twenty two and a bit hours of fantastic mountain running and my plan went very well..apart from the stupid poles.
Showing off the spoils
And to wrap up
Surprisingly enough, I felt fine at the finish and could walk the next day during our last day in Switzerland, if not a tad slower than usual. Natalie, true to form, took delight in mocking my afflictions. What a few days, the race was fantastic and highly recommended, Switzerland itself is beautiful, if not a bit pricey.
My next adventure is…yes, another go at my nemesis. The Summer Spine race, June 2026. As some of you will know, I’ve had mixed experiences with the Spine Race series, from podium places (not that I mention it much) to disaster and DNF’s. Check out the website link for info https://www.thespinerace.com/ my time will come one day and I will finish the full 268 miles of the Pennine Way..feckin hell, I’ve got years of experience on the Pennine Way, I just need all the planets to align for me. I’m also trying to get a place in the UTMB, the Mecca of trail running, we’ll see.
By the way, once I become a qualified Mountain Leader, I will be available to take groups or individuals out in the mountains. Friends and family could benefit from a minimal discount obviously.
Gear used apart from the mandatory kit:
Black Diamond poles, served me well, just gave out after years of abuse.
Scarpa Golden Gate trail shoes, really good shoes and helped prevent my feet getting manky.
Montane Gecko pack, love it and very trusty.
Mountain Fuel gels, always in my pack.
Trailskin anti chafe products, work a treat, try them out.
Drymax socks, also great to prevent manky feet.
If you’re still here, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed sharing my experience. Why not checkout my other blogs 🙂
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