UTMB WORLD SERIES
While Simon ran with the 45km race, self-confessed nervous racer Karin made her mountain race debut in the 27km event
It's Sunday morning, and despite the 27km race being due to start in less than 30 minutes, the vibe in the town of Verbier is chilled. I’m typically a nervous racer, and the less something feels like a high-pressure race, the better for me. This was my first ever mountain race, and I should have put more thought into a strategy. By my estimate over half the runners are already walking by the time we're on the first hill. I push past in a slow but steady run, which is a mental place I’m happy in. This initial climb is gradual, but after 1.5 miles the road turns to trail, and 100m later the first climb proper starts.
Empty. That’s the only word to describe how I felt. What was this? I had been in the Alps for the past two months; I’m no stranger to climbs of 15-20%. I couldn’t blame a lack of endurance, as this was less than two miles in! Perhaps the lack of recent practice with my poles, and trying to share the burden with my weak arms, was a mistake.
As soon as the serious climbing started, I felt like I was moving backwards. I was annoyed at myself for how slow and exhausted I felt, and at one point I passed a footpath that would have led me back down into Verbier. I seriously considered it. The first climb zig-zagged through woods, then hit the ridge line to take us up to the first summit of Pierre Avoi, around a 1km climb from Verbier, over 4.5 miles. Climbing the ridge was all above the tree line, which meant the visible snake of runners above me as far as the eye could see made the challenge a little demoralising. I cursed myself for not training more. I cursed my energy levels. I took on a pureed fruit sachet and just tried to think of Simon telling me it's all about one foot in front of the other, and not wishing the race away. Easier said than done. I’m always my own worst enemy. The path was singletrack so I felt I was holding up runners, and even though I did step off the path numerous times to allow them to pass, it was hard to maintain momentum and run my own race whilst thinking about others. Everyone around me was walking this ascent. I can only assume those at the front of the pack may have been running.
After numerous fake summits I finally reached the high point, knowing that the first checkpoint was only another mile on a flat/slight downhill traverse. Again, being too narrow to pass easily, I found I was now getting held up by those in front who had perhaps pushed too hard on the climb. The ground became more technical and rockier. I pushed on, and finally the first checkpoint appeared around the back of a ski lift. A few cups of Coke, topping up of water bottles, and a few bits of banana and cheese, and I was off again. Out of the checkpoint I knew there
