There’s a rock, somewhere between Malga Travenanzes and Col dei Bos, and every time I pass it, I know that I am fully alive. I know because two years ago, at my lowest point running wise, I lay down on it and tried to give up. Why I thought lying on a rock in the baking midday sun was the solution to my problems is a mystery. Then a fellow Brit went past and told me to get up and get going, and it was a bit awkward. I was embarrassed for the guy because he seemed to think I could continue. Silly. But out of embarrassment for his misjudgment of the situation, I got up and continued climbing to the Col. When I passed the same rock last year, tired but not yet beaten, it was the catalyst for me to push on and turn things around. So, when... View Article
Ultra Trail Métropole Nice Côte d’Azur – 100M race report For a good few hours on Friday night, I though it was on. I felt invincible, blinded by adrenaline, pushing myself back up through the field. It’d been a rotten start. I felt fatigued and under the weather from the get go. I decided to start near the back and take things easy, knowing I should be able to make up places later on. The first section is a short climb on a fire road followed by a trail with switchbacks to get you down into Saint-Étienne-de-Tinée, where local school children formed a scream tunnel of outstretched arms that echoed, “allez, allez, allez”. From there it’s straight into a 1400m climb up to Refuge de Rabuons. The early afternoon heat was oppressive and the climb seemed to go on for days. I took a good long stop at the aid... View Article
September 9, 2023,
by Pete
There’s probably not a large amount to be written in a race report for a race you DNF’d 2km in, but I did learn something about myself: I discovered I’m the kind of person who’ll be violently ill for six hours then try to run across the alps in a snow storm. I might not achieve my goals, but I’m relieved to know I’m still stupid enough to try. I’d been feeling pretty confident in the morning. There was a severe weather warning – snow, wind, plummeting temperatures – but I thought that could play to the advantage of British runners. As I frequently assert, I’m from the north. I was in the right head space to try something hard. It felt like this was a moment I could grasp. As I gazed up as the storm clouds drifting across the Alps, I thought of Antoine de Saint-Expury in Sand,... View Article
It all started with an invite to Jane’s birthday party. She moved to Switzerland, seemingly 50% for the skiing and 50% so she could send photos of mountains home to taunt the rest of us. So her party happens to be in the shadow of Mont Blanc: bit of a long way if we’re honest but it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make for friendship. I’m benevolent like that. I start to look at flights and wonder if it wouldn’t be best to combine the trip with a little running. One thing leads to another, It’s UTMB week after the party and Chamonix starts to whisper my name. Could I really fly home only to sit in front of my laptop dot watching races and wishing I was there? In spite of my conflicting feelings about their influence in the sport, every year it feels like everyone is at UTMB.... View Article
I’d never considered Poland for a mountain running break before. There’s a degree of familiarity with the famous running destinations in the Alps or Pyrenees but as soon as I saw the promotional video for Tatra Sky Marathon, I knew that it looked like something special. The evening we arrived in Koscielisko I saw the sun set paint firey hues behind the towering, cross topped, presence of Giewont and it’s neighbour Kopa Kondracka. I may not be in good shape but whatever my legs chose to do, nature had given us an incredible theatre to run in. The race started close to Zakopane and the atmosphere was electric well before the seven am start time. Runners thronged together under the starting arches and listened to the race briefing. Only two words were translated for me: snakes and bears. Right then. Let’s be having it. Four trombita’s sounded the start and... View Article
