UMR CUBEN MITTS

One of the pieces of gear on the UTMB mandatory equipment list is a pair of waterproof gloves. Fine in theory, the only problem being that fully waterproof gloves for running practically don't exist. Sure, there are some such as Sealskins or Raidlight mitts but these seem over kill for the task at hand. Others just have a waterproof topside or fold out mitt, but neither of these would really qualify as fully waterproof. The other option is clearly to move towards winter mountain/skiing gloves but clearly these are hardly ideal for carrying around Mt Blanc in a pack. Some people get around the problem by carrying latex surgical gloves but these are practically useless if you ever need to use them, with stories abound from previous years of peoples gloves filling up like water ballons.

After a bit of research I identified a few of potential options but wasnt convinced by any of them so I decided to make my own.

I had some very lightweight Cuben fibre non-woven PE laminate lying around from a previous project. If you are not familiar with Cuben, it is a crazy material originally developed for americas cup racing sails. It has since been used for many different applications and has been adopted by the ultralight backpacking/ make your own gear crowd as it is extremely strong, completely waterproof and incredibly lightweight. It also isn't cheap.

One of the other advantages of Cuben is that it likes to be bonded, as opposed to sewn, which means that it is possible to create very strong waterproof seams without the need for stitching and taping as is common with most waterproof clothing construction.

In the end I decided to make some simple over-mitts with an extended cuff and a simple elasticated draw string which I could pull over my thin running gloves if needed. The longer cuff could then be tucked deep into the sleeve of my rain jacket to ensure that there would be no risk of rain getting in. Construction wise the individual panels are bonded using a permanent waterproof 3M spray adhesive to create a folded overlapping seam. The channel for the drawstring is created using a thin strip of specialised Mylar double sided tape. The drawstring itself is made form a very thin elastic cord with a heat shrink gripper tab on the end. It can be used and released with one hand.

The end result is a one-off pair of fully waterproof mitts which weigh 8g for the pair and pack down to virtually nothing.

Of course in the end I didn't need to use them.

MAMORES MUNROS

I remember a lovely thing that Lisa said to my parents last Christmas which has really stuck with me. She was talking about this seed that Euan was planting in my mind about doing the Ramsay Round and she said that she thought that doing it was a life changing experience for people. Now, even after only having done a handful of the peaks up there, I can start to understand what she means. These aren't just mountains, they are a cathedral. And, with the notable exception of Castiglioni's studio, its about as close as I think I'll ever get to going to church.

A Boyd brothers Ramsay attempt is definitely on for June 2015. I'll save the waffle and let the photos from a recent Mamores outing speak for themselves, should further explanation be required.

CCC- UTMB

A few weeks ago saw what was supposed to be be the final part of my extended Europe trip over July/ August, the CCC race at the UTMB (101km with 6100m+ and 1900 runners).

 


The build up.

I eventually flew down to Italy on Wednesday 27th, a bit later than originally planned. Chingwen arrived later that night so on the following day we jumped in the hire car and headed over to Courmayeur after hitting the first Autogrill for lunch. In an uncharacteristic bout of organisation I actually had a plan and a schedule to keep.

We pulled into a glorious Courmayeur around mid afternoon, where we would stay the night before the race to avoid an early rise and the organisers bus through from Chamonix to get to the start line. It turned out that the UTMB course passed right by the front door. After checking in we took a quick stroll around Courmayeur for a coffee and a frankly ridiculous chocolate ice cream before I had to go find the bus which was laid on to take Italian runners through to Chamonix to register and do the gear check. The bus left on time, again from just outside the hotel taking a load of skinny mustachioed italians, and yours truly, through the tunnel. On arrival at the registration hall on the other side it was like a military operation. I was checked in, did the gear check, picked up my bib and a bus pass for Chingwen and was done in 15 minutes flat. Incredible organisation and barely a queue. Not too much of a circus surrounding it either which was reassuring as I had been fearing the worst before hand. This efficiency left enough time to head to the local Casino to pick up some muesli and stuff to constitute an approximation of my usual pre-race breakfast. Seamless.

The gear check was interesting. They didn’t check every single piece of kit, just a selection of the core items but I none the less was getting a few funny looks for my tiny pack . Admittedly, I’d been a bit extreme with the gram saving but everything was above-board and legal as far as I could tell. My sub-100g Berghaus Vapourlight jacket in particular raised some interest and was closely inspected to see it have the pre-requisite waterproof/ taped/breathable qualities. I’d foreseen this so actually had the tags with the spec. in my pocket as all te labels were already cut out of it….but in the end they were convinced so they werent needed. I’ll post a separate list of the full gear I used at somepoint as, to my knowledge, its not possible to go lighter. I managed to get it and all my food in a slightly trimmed down race vest.

Soon back through the tunnel in Courmayeur it was straight to dinner with Chingwen. We ate at the hotel to avoid the need to run around town getting fed, and after bit of negotiating off-menu to satisfy my dietry and pre-race whims, we ate pretty well. Happy days. Then it was off to finalise the gear, count the calories for the next day and explain what I needed from my able assistant, where and when.

I was factoring on having around 13 hours worth of calories available, carrying roughly half of them from the start and then restocking only once at Champex-Lac after around 55km. It was the usual combination of stuff- a combination of Cliff shot gels, thinner but sweeter High 5 gels, natural flavour Hammer Perpetuem mixed in 2 hour bottles and a few other odd bits and pieces including a few bits of malt loaf, a High 5 bar, Salt Stick caps and some zero tabs just incase I got bored of water. The gels go in my shorts pockets (hence my need for as many pockets as possible) and the rest in my pack. In addition to duplicates of this lot for the second half I brought a bunch of bits and pieces for the aid station just in case I felt like some alternatives including some nutrigrain bars, jelly babies, salted cashews and almonds, some creamed rice dessert, wraps with nutella etc.I wasn't planning on relying on the checkpoint fair unless something was way off. Everything else was checked and squeezed into my pack and then we were good to go.

I woke up around 6.30am the next morning with an ominous tingling in my left foot. Not ideal. I'd hurt it a few weeks previously coming down off of the Cobbler after managing to stamp on a particularly sharp rock (on the tourist path no less!) and it still wasn't right. Anyway, with the kick off scheduled for 9am I looked out the window and see runners already starting to come off the buses. I made up some muesli with yoghurt and soya milk and jumped back in bed wondering what the rush was. Realising that I had forgotten to get a bowl the night before it was consumed from a ziplock bag. Combat style from the very start. I stumbled out of the hotel around 8.15am not looking where I was going and in doing so literally bumped into another runner from Hong Kong whose name escapes me who was part of the steady stream of runners coming off the buses near the hotel. After saying a passing 'Hi' I left my kit bag in the car and headed to the startline with Chingwen.

This, as ever, is where the circus starts. Waiting at the start is always my least favourite part of racing but I won't linger on the moment here. My only observations from the start were a) the amount of questionable lycra, b) the size of the packs people were planning on lugging around and c) the amount of wayward hiking poles everywhere. I still maintain these things are bloody dangerous.

Courmayeur- Arnuva

Anyway, after the anticipated hoopla, animated attempts at a build up from the organiser, crappy tunes, droning speeches in multiple languages and 3 national anthems it was relief to finally be off. Soon though I was in the red trying to get past the numpty brigade through town before we hit the climbs. I started way, way back, maybe in 300^th place at the line, so it was a bit of a job. Running through the town at a frankly ridiculous pace for a 100k race amid the ringing cow bells was just mental. By the time we hit the first long drag up the road turning up out of Courmayeur I was only inside the top 100 or so but decided to calm the beans a bit and ease into the climb. After a while we turned off the road onto a steep trail and it was straight into hiking mode trying desperately not to get spiked by the many flailing hiking poles.

While I'd looked at the course a bit, but I probably should have studied it a bit more and had some basic numbers in my head. I had a cut out of the profile in my pocket but I decided pretty early on I was just going to wing it and try and get round it purely on perceived effort as I was a bit worried about the effects of the altitude. On the climbs, which certainly aren't my strength, I decided just to keep plugging away at a manageable pace until the top appeared rather than worry too much about distance, altitude and how much climbing remained. I wanted to run my own race and avoid the temptation to latch onto the back of other runners and get dragged along at someone else's pace.

In any case, the first climb out of Courmayeur is a monster and I really wasn't feeling too clever on it. My legs weren't great but they weren't disasterous either. A bigger concern was the sharp pain which was already coming and going on the bottom of my left foot and between my smaller toes. When it wasn't painful it was just numb and tingling. Really strange. Anyway, nothing to be done, we were only 5km in so the only thing to do was try and deal with it. After thinking about this damn race for so long I wasn't going to left a sore foot get in the way of getting round it. None the less, I hauled myself hands on knees up the hill at pretty sustainable effort babying the foot a little, passing a few people here and there were I could on the narrow trail. I got to the top of Tete de la Tronche and started the rolling decent down to Rifugio Bertone. On this section my foot was really painful which put the breaks on me a bit. I hobbled through the Rifugio in around 50th place, not overly amused with the state of progress. I topped up my bottles quickly then was off on the rolling trail to Rifugio Bonatti. Here the foot improved marginally but it was still very much off an on, as it was to remain for the rest of the day. Another splash of water at Bonatti and it was onto the long rolling decent down to Arnuva. This section was super runnable and I started to finally pick up a few places here and there in between audible yelps of pain. By the time I got to Arnuva I was otherwise feeling decent enough. The crowd here was awesome and really brought a smile to my face. I was starting to realise what all the hype about this race was about.
 

Arnuva- La Fouly
Straight after Arnuva the course goes straight up over the Grand Col du Ferret. The clue is in the title. It seems never ending. Again I set about power hiking up this at a sustained but manageable effort. Shortly after leaving the CP I had a nice wee exchange with a guy from Edinburgh about the referendum who caught up with me. A fellow Yes voter as it turned out. Its amazing how a few words can raise the spirits. He hiked off ahead of me after a while and I left him too it. This was the first place were I thought I really should be more organised and be using my altimeter to have an idea how much climb remained so that I could guage my effort appropriately. I usually do this on shorter races but I'm not sure why I overlooked it here. In the end I just kept going until I saw the big North Face tent ahead, which I took to be the summit. Down the other side by foot started playing up again so I was surprised that is was still passing people on the decent. The decent down to La Fouly is as never ending as the climb up to the col, and I spent it twisting and turning down the trail int Switzerland gingerly avoiding rocks and trying to look up to admire the quite incredible scenery now and then.

La Fouly- Champex Lac
After a quick refuel at La Fouly which involved more fumbling about getting Hammer Perpetuem inside a small necked soft flask without splilling half of it on the ground it was off over a more undulating section of the course. This section was pretty uneventful and I was able to tick along at a decent pace and pick up a few more places before the trail kicked up again towards Champex-Lac. On this less sustained climb I was feeling strong and I was looking forward to getting to the check point to see Chingwen and get refueled. Somewhere in here a spectator mentioned something about 26th or 27th place which surprised me a little.

Champex Lac- Trient

I trotted into the CP at Champex-Lac feeling pretty good about the world. Entering the tent Chingwen grabbed me immediately and hustled me over to a table with everything laid out for me. She was totally amazing, totally in control of the situation, telling me to sit down, filling bottles with zero fuss, handing me gels, loading my pockets and telling me to eat and drink. I was so grateful to get such amazing help and just to be told what to do. I sat there chomping down a mini creamed rice pot in a content daze. I only stayed at the CP for 6-7 minutes but it was enough time to get my shit together and get some food down me. Leaving the CP there was a gear check and after doing that it was off round the lake contentedly muching on a handful of salted cashews I took with me. I was so happy at this point, and a getting bit emotional thinking about being looked after so well when all I was doing was just running around a mountain.

All was going well until the short climb up the road out out Champex when my stomach started protesting about all the food I'd just forced into it. I was immediately forced to a slow walk, then a stand still until the inevitable started happening and I was doubled over in a heaving mess by the side of the road. I  vomited 3 or 4 times until I was completely empty. Damn it, I thought.....that is a lot of calories and fluid to lose at this point. Now we are in trouble. After a few minutes I got myself together and started walking again but unfortunately by then my unscheduled pit stop had lost me 3 or 4 places. I manged to ease myself into a trot again, still feeling super queasy. The next couple of hours were spent battling with nausea while trying to get something to stay in my stomach. Eventually things calmed down and I was able to sip water and small amounts of perpetuem but it was a few hours before I was brave enough to try a gel again. This section was a haze. I was able to keep bumbling along without pause up the climb to Bovine but my energy levels were worryingly low. I don't remember much about this section to be honest, as I was less focused on the terrain and more concentrated on nursing myself along. I might as well have been blindfolded.

Trient- Vallorcine  
At Trient extreme measures were required and for the first time I deviated from the nutritional plan. Enter the ultra runners emergency friend. Cocacola ( or was it Pepsi?) I usually avoid it, but this was an emergency. I had a few small cups of this in the hope that it would help settle things and watered down my Perpetuem. After a rather unpleasant trip to the Portaloo it  was off over Catogne in the direction of Vallorcine. Things started to improve and I was able to get a gel to stick for the first time in a while. A small victory. Again, this section was a bit of a daze but I remember being passed by a couple of guys on the climb. I'd pretty much forgotten about my foot pain by this point and I was quite surprised that I was still descending well in comparison to the runners around me, only to be distanced by them whenever the trail went up.

Vallorcine- Chamonix
At Vallorcine I'd been going for 10 hours something according to my watch, not too bad considering but I knew I had a few hours to go but it hadn't really clicked that it was over one of the toughest parts of the course. I some more Coke in preparation for the monster climb up La tete au vents but I didn't hang about. My stomach seemed to have settled and I was by now keen to get this thing over with. 

 Stepping out of the CP tent I heard the loudspeakers talk of the sustained rain that had been predicted for later in the day and sure enough it was starting to absolutely piss down. I stopped shortly after to put on my jacket, opting for my wind jacket rather than my shell as I reasoned I was going to get soaked anyway. While I was at it I dug out my headtorch in preparation for the looming darkness. By the time I hit the road at Catogne the rain was absolutely torrential. I switched on my headlamp as I was guided across the road and waded into the gloom. The climb up tete aux vents was a death march up a trail that more resembled a river in spate in places. With the added bonus of low cloud cover, mist and total, unrelenting, darkness it was a case of just trying to follow the reflective ribbons. On the early stages of the climb a runner tick-ticked past me with his hiking poles as I slithered and stumbled over the rocks cursing with every step. It was the first time all day that I started to think there might be some merit in the damn things. Towards the top of the climb visibility was practically zero, properly Scottish munros in November weather. There were many moments of staggering about trying to see where the next reflective ribbon. There was that much water around, pouring over rocks in all directions, that the trail was pretty much invisible. It was absolutely, totally miserable but by now nothing was going to stop me finishing. Progress had been slowed to a laughable degree and I was just hemorrhaging time bumbling around in the darkness on my own swearing. But I wasnt stopping. The floodlight and TNF tent at the top of the climb gave some hope but also created some confusion as I worked out, eventually, that is wasnt actually check point, which came later. When i finally got there it was reassuring to have the marshal check my number in the darkness as at least it meant I wasnt the only one up here and I was going the right way. I stumbled on, pausing many times to work out where to go. At some point between tete aux vents and Flegere the trail cum stream traversed a large slab of rock. As stepped on to it my feet disappeared from under me and I went tumbling off the side coming to a halt a worrying distance below with an almighty thump shortly followed by spasms of cramp and wheezing with shock from the heavy bounce I took off of the rock. I lay there for a moment there screaming in pain, cramping, in a torrent of water. My first thought was christ, that was close, that could have been very nasty. As it was it took me several attempts to get back on my feet and try and stretch out my severely cramping quads and calves and make sure my arms and chest were still in one piece. I gingerly started off down the trail again and, miraculously, soon my legs were fine again. By now I was just pleading for it all to be over.

I eventually stumbled into the final CP at Flegere. Nobody had passed me which was nothing short of a miracle as I had been going at a snails pace. I was getting a bit cold by now so I paused at the CP for a bowl of hot noodle soup and a quick coffee. The guys at the CP said it was only about 40 minutes to do down to Chamonix but to be careful as the trails was covered in rocks and roots. They weren't joking either. With hind sight I should have probably kept going rather than hanging about as soon after I started the descent a guy came flying past on the downhill, poles swinging. Shortly after I passed two guys who were very gingerly picking their way down then another guy came by me but didn't really get more than a few meters ahead. I just sat off of the back of him for the remainder of the descent at a safe enough pace so as not to risk a fall, content to have a marker ahead guiding me down. As I descended the weather and visibility improved and I was much happier to be able to see where I was going. As the trail widened as we closed in on Chamonix I drew along side the guy ahead of me, who turned out to be another Brit,  and we could just about see the other guy who had passed me ahead but by now I wasn't in the mood to sprint after him. My legs feeling surprisingly good on the flatter roads but it just didn't seem appropriate to have a sprint finish after 101km. We ran through lit paved roads of Chamonix to together enjoying the incredible crowds standing there in rain, which was by now abating a little. We crossed the line together in 13 Hours and 53 Minutes and, as I found out much later, in 20th place.

There was quite an atmosphere at the finish and I stood there for a few seconds in a daze of photographers and people shouting before Chingwen grabbed me, gave me a hug and led me off back to sanity. I was glad to be finished but initially a bit non plussed about my performance and a little bemused about why everyone else seemed so happy.
  
The aftermath


After a quick coffee and a change of clothes we went to pick up some gear I had left in a drop bag and we wandered off to find the hotel, getting lost several times on the way. I'd originally toyed with the idea of going back through to Courmayeur and staying there after the race so that we could see the first UTMB runners coming through but I'm glad we didn't in the end. The conditions on the last section had taken a lot out of me, I was cold by now and just wanted a warm shower and to jump in bed.

I woke up the next morning to lots of excited text messages, the usual mildly aching limbs and with an incredibly sore rib on the right hand side of my chest. It would seem that the fall somewhere on the tete aux vents left me a souvenir in the form of a cracked rib. Ideal.

Since the race I have started to feel a bit more positive about the result. I had the feeling when I finished that I should have done better, and was a bit annoyed about how much time I'd taken over the last sections. I definitely had the legs on the day to get me round faster. But running a race like that is a case of managing so many variables, running is just one part of the equation. On the day my legs were the part that worked (for once), the rest was only so-so. That said considering everything that happened it was an encouraging result but I've definitely been wondering what might have happened had all the stars aligned a bit better.