The Marathon du Mont Blanc 2009, Chamonix, France

By Oskar Booth

The gestation of my trip to Mont Blanc began on one of the 6 Foot Track training runs, nearing the 30km mark. By this point the endorphins were flowing nicely and rational/logical thought had long gone out the window.  Nearing the end of February, it was now close enough to the 6ft that some runners dared to ask the question “what will the next challenge be after 6 foot?”  Someone muttered a few words about ‘having a crack’ at the Mont Blanc ultra one day, which triggered a particular train of thought for the next few kms of single-trail. I wasn’t up for the ultra distance stuff yet, but I had heard of a marathon distance trail run near Mont Blanc. The idea seemed to rapidly infect my thoughts for the remainder of the run and for next few days.

Working until 10pm one night, and looking for any escape led me to browse for some flights. 10minutes later I had booked return flights to Paris in a spontaneous over-worked delirium, and I got quite an adrenalin rush out of it. Europe here I come.

Skip forward 3months (and lots of training) and I find myself in Chamonix, at the foot of Mont Blanc. 6 days of acclimatisation before the Mont Blanc marathon included some “not really tapering” trail runs and even an overnight bushwalk. The scenery was simply intoxicating to say the least.  After some excellent carbo-loading on massive baguettes I was fired up for the race!

Race morning started with perfect cool conditions at around 12 degrees in the valley and few clouds in sight.  Chamonix looked wonderful with the streets full of runners and the mountain backdrop. The gun went and everyone cheered as they ran under the start banner. The first few km were up the valley floor, criss-crossing from forest to open pastures.  The runners formed a long string early before we came to any single track. The morning air was icy and we were all breathing fog. I glanced back down the valley – a wonderful sight to see all the runners in scenery like this.

After 10km we had already started to climb. Having studied the profile religiously for months I knew this was just a warm up. In reality though these early climbs were tough and a little worry and doubt was creeping into my mind over the severity of the course. Could I really run 2500m of vertical ascent and 1500m of descent in 42k? No use dwelling on that thought though, I had running to do.

By this stage I was still in about 10^th position but knowing I had an enormous climb coming up at the 15k mark, I wasn’t concerned about position. The climb at 15km was a monster with approx 900m climb in some 5km. When I hit the base of the climb I realised what figures like that translate to in the ‘real world’. The climb was too steep to run, even for the best runners. This is when I witnessed some amazing race walking (not something I usually train for). All of a sudden I was being overtaken by everyone...walking. Some had hiking poles and were striding up the >10% gradient faster than a lot of people can run. This is definitely something we don’t get much practice at in Australia.

The gradient eventually relaxed (a little) and I was happy to run again. All of this climbing was leading us to the high point of the race, the Aiguillette des Posettes at 2200m. The reward for this brutal climb was worth every step – a crystal clear view back down the Chamonix valley of the entire Mont Blanc Massif. This must have brought a big smile to every competitor and it certainly gave me a strong boost of morale. It was no longer a race but an adventure and the immense scale of the mountains seemed to humble everyone.  A helicopter buzzed around and at one point running along the narrow ‘razorback’ ridgeline it came so close that it nearly blew me right off the track (more adrenaline was beneficial though). The course then proceeded to descend, losing all the hard work of the climb, but boy did it feel good to run downhill fast. The trail became incredibly technical in this part and I found myself catching others (that had walked past me uphill) that were less sure-footed. It was now warming up as the sun was high in the sky.

The course passed through a cute little village and as we approached the spectators grew in numbers. The crowd support was amazing, and because each runner had his/her name on the race number I continued to get personalised cheers of encouragement as the spectators read your name. Allez, Allez, Allez. I felt like I was in the Tour de France. This really did spur me on (more than in any other race).    

It wasn’t long until the race started to climb again. This was just past the halfway point, but this time the climbing was run-able (mostly) but the challenge now was the temperature. The sun was hot and the tree cover was spasmodic. It is not surprising then that I have less distinct memories of the second half of the course. One of the hardest things was to maintain momentum, with the constant uphill and no idea of how far to go (no Garmin GPS) things were getting mentally tough. I had reduced my tempo as a survival measure and was no longer concerned about placing or time for that matter. The energy gels didn’t seem to help anymore, and the water in my hydration pack was hot.

At one point I even resorted to splashing around in a creek for a few seconds in an effort to combat the temperature. Two other runners saw me doing this, decided that it looked like a good idea and joined me. There is a great sense of comradery in this race, and a very friendly non-competitive attitude, not dissimilar to the atmosphere of the 6FT.

The course wound its way upwards along the side of the valley back towards Chamonix. The trail was superb with technical parts, mostly single- track, some bits of dirt road and a view in every direction.

It seemed like an eternity but I finally saw a sign that said 3km to go. What relief. The only problem I knew was the finish was a steep uphill. At this stage I felt like I was merely hanging on, but as the PA system at the finish came into earshot I got a second wind. I was fuelled by looming finish line, and looking at my watch I was determined to finish in less than 5 hours. I had 15mins to go and approx 3km – which should be easy normally, but uphill at the end of a race may be another story.  The finish of this race is cruel. No more single trail, no more tree cover, just a dirt road going UP in the hot sun. Every competitor I saw was walking up this last hill, so I decided I would try to run. I didn’t run the entire way but the last 200m, possibly the steepest part I was insistent on not walking. The crowd support, when they noticed that I was the one of the few attempting to run the final stretches was immense. It was enough encouragement to make me accelerate, not quite what I would call a sprint, but a surge to the finish line. 4 hours and 57 minutes.  

I was happy albeit completely delirious. After staggering around for a minute I sought out the drinks and they had beer at the finish tent, which made my big smile even bigger.  My stomach had other ideas about the beer though and I could barely stomach a mouthful.  The finish was at Planpraz chairlift, altitude 2000m and directly above our starting point in Chamonix. The chairlift was a welcome method of descent. Back in Chamonix, the post race buffet was fantastic even on Sydney Striders’ standards. After a massage and some refuelling I made a hasty retreat to the swimming pool and collapsed for the rest of the day. What a day!

I would recommend this race to anyone who loves running on trails and is up for a challenge. It does not matter if you walk some or most of the race, it would still be a fantastic experience.

Surprisingly the next day I felt fine, much better than after a road marathon. The ascent far outweighs the descent, which is kind on the legs and at 4:57:27 I wasn’t moving at the intensity of a road marathon.

My final results were 53^rd place overall and 31^st in my age group out of a total of 1415 finishers in the marathon and I was happy with that. I was the only Australian doing the marathon this year (others did the 21km cross).  The winner Christophe Assailly did 4 hours and 3 minutes.

The whole experience described above was only the first week of my trip to Europe. What a way to start a trip! Far from fatigued, I was energised by the experience and in the anticipation of what was to unfold in the next 4 weeks.  The rough plan was to travel as a runner, seeking out the nicest trails in the French and Swiss Alps. I did eventually venture to some famous mountains such as the Eiger and the Matterhorn in my travels, but those are stories to be told another time.

Oskar Booth

If anybody would like further information or to hear some of the rest of the story, please email me.

oskarbooth@gmail.com

Event website: www.montblancmarathon.net