This is all new terrain for me. I’ve never walked or climbed in this part of the mountains. The path is quite wide and although it is clearly in descent it should be quite easy to run. I run for the first ten minutes but quickly realise that if I continue I’m going to tire myself and trash my legs so I start to take short walk breaks and feel immediately better. The path just keeps going down. Twenty minutes go by, half an hour then finally the path flattens out a bit to traverse left around the mountain. But this quickly terminates and the path starts to descend again, this time in a particularly decisive manner. It isn’t possible to walk, it’s only barely possible to run slowly. At times I have to jump down as the path dives over rocks and enormous tree roots. The ski poles are useful here, allowing me to balance and brake, with my arms as well as my legs.
A number of people pass me running as if this was the end of the race. I am definitely not tempted to follow them. This is bad. My legs hurt, I feel tired, I can’t wait to see the end of the descent. The dust which is being raised by each runner in front of me, settles on my ankles, covering my legs, some of it seeps into my shoes and I know I should change my socks sometime in the next kilometers. Finally the descent does end, and, as we cross a bridge over a pretty stream, we emerge onto an asphalted road. A number of people along the road encourage us - “just one kilometer to La Fouly, the rest station is at the end of the village”. I smile and thank them . Although a number of people are trotting or even running here, I am reduced to a walk. There is a young French guy walking next to me who pulls out a small map of the race. I ask him how many kilometers we’ve covered as I can’t remember where exactly La Fouly is, but I’m reckoning that we’re somewhere near half way (45 or 46 kilometers). 40 kilometers comes the answer. What, only 40 kilometers. That means there’s another 58 to go. I am feeling really bad as we slowly walk into the village. Everybody is out on the streets, waving, cheering, clapping. They call out our names, encouraging and complimenting us. Finally I reach the rest station. There is a small queue for water bottle filling but I stand there patiently for my turn before passing through into the food area. Another plate of pasta in broth, a mug of coke, a plate of bread with salami and cheese. I work my way outside and sit at one of the tables. It’s seven o’clock in the evening and the air is chilling but I can’t be bothered to open my pack and get something to cover myself with. I slowly eat the pasta and drink the broth. I try to force down some bread and cheese but without any enthusiasm, sipping on the coke to help the bread down. This is the breaking point. I have to decide whether I can go on or not. Finally I decide – I’ll try to reach Champex Lac. At least if I reach there I’ll have covered 56 kilometres and that will be a new distance record for me. I get up slowly, throw the plates into one of the trash bags and shoulder my pack. Walking out of the courtyard back onto the road I notice how many people are still sitting there, eating, drinking, talking. Ok, there’s still a lot of people behind me and I can see others still arriving through the village. I’m not going to be alone for the next few hours. After a few minutes I realise how cold I am, so I stop to pull out a wind vest and roll my arm warmers up all the way. I walk onwards trying to stimulate blood flow in my arms and legs. That was really stupid, how can I let myself get cold like that. I should have enough experience in the mountains to know better than that. The path which continues to descend, but pleasantly so, wends its way through a pretty forest alongside a stream. It would make for a charming evening stroll or romantic walk in sweet company, but here I’m by myself though surrounded by fellow runners. As I continue, walking a bit, trotting a bit, I begin to feel a little better. I’m no longer cold and though I don’t feel great at least I feel like I can continue. The next half an hour continues pleasantly as I vary my pace, according to the terrain and finally we emerge again on the outskirts of Praz de la Fort. Some local children have improvised a water station with large jugs of water that they fill from the fountain. They only have about twenty plastic cups so everyone who passes through here has to share. They are so sweet that I can’t resist their offer. I grab a cup and rapidly drink. “Merci mes enfants, merci”. As I leave them, a young French runner, falls in beside me. I learn his name is Fabien and he has done the race before. I don’t realize it at the time but he will probably be the reason why I will be able to go on to finish the race. He says that he is ok on the descents but has trouble with the climbing parts. I tell him that generally I’m the opposite, but right now I’m not doing too good on either. We keep chatting as we pass through Praz, waving and saying hello to everybody. At a certain point as we emerge on the other side of Praz he indicates to me the buildings of Champex high up in a side valley “That’s where we’re going”. A little afterwards we have to pass through some fields where water sprinklers are irrigating. The huge jets are pushed ten meters into the air and alternately fall now in the field and then on the path where we have to pass. Fabien looks at me and says “We have to run really fast”. “What, you’re kidding, I can’t run really fast right now”. “Really fast or we will get wet” he shouts back as he accelerates away from me. I can’t believe it but then I also sprint forward behind him. We pass by safely and start laughing. We didn’t even catch a drop of water. That sprint has really invigorated me. I now feel much more lively, any pain in my legs has disappeared and my morale has reached a new high. We pass quickly through the few remaining houses of Praz and are soon at the start of the next climb. I attack it with a completely new spirit and turn round to encourage Fabien but he smiles wryly while he waves. “Go on, I won’t be able to keep your pace” I hesitate for a moment but I can already see that he is right, in just one minute he is already way behind. I wave back and tell him that we will see each other later. But I didn’t see him again and I have no idea if he finished the race. I certainly hope so. I doubt if he will ever read this but a big thank you goes out to him for making me sprint and getting me out of my lethargy.As I climb in the failing light, I realize that I am ascending well. I start passing people one after another, I chat with a French guy who has a Scottish mother but he also fades after a while, and I am left to my solitary ascent. At a certain point of the climb I can no longer see so I have to stop to get my headlamp out. I grab the tiny Black Diamond lamp which I have never used in real conditions before. I am pleased to see that it work absolutely perfectly. I would recommend it to anyone as a reserve light – super small, incredibly light and definitely useable in good conditions, though it may be a bit more difficult in poor weather. I recognize an Italian girl with whom I chatted earlier at La Fouly and say hello but I am going so much faster that I leave her behind rapidly. I saw from the race results later that she finished quite well so congratulations Raffaella. Before long I can see the light of Champex and as we pass through the now customary crowd of cheering adults and children I stumble into the tented rest station. There are literally hundreds of people in the tent. I grab a plate of broth and pasta and then encourage one of the volunteers to put some other larger pasta on top of it. A large spoonful of cheese on that and I find a spare bench where I can sit and eat. Now I am really hungry. Obviously my metabolism is now working full time and is crying out to be fed. As soon as I finish the pasta I decide to change some of my clothes. Off come the running shorts as I replace them with the tights, another t-shirt goes under the one I have on and the wind vest goes back on top. It’s 10 o’clock at night and the temperature is falling fast. I think about changing my socks as well but there is so much dust on the floor that I am discouraged from doing so. I fill my water bottles, grab some bread and cheese to eat on the way and emerge again into the night.
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