Fifteen miles in, and I already knew I was in trouble.
We’d only just topped the first of four mountain passes, and my legs were having none of it. Altitude: 9,000 feet. Temperature: 25°C and climbing. Legs: medium-rare. And the valleys? Hotter still. Think oven door opened in your face, but with cowbells.
Martin E and I had arrived in Verbier the day before. Flew into Geneva, got the train up the valley – all very civilised. But being in a ski resort with no beer and no mountain biking feels like being grounded at a theme park. We killed the afternoon wandering about aimlessly, trying not to think about what we’d signed up for.
The race?
UTMB Verbier 100k – also known as the X-Traversée. Point-to-point, starting in La Fouly and winding its way up, over, and around the mountains back to Verbier. Just a casual 48 miles with 17,000 feet of elevation gain. Now, a very stupid idea, obviously.
Race morning started early with a gondola ride down to the valley, followed by a UTMB shuttle bus with the sound of multi-language chatter and the smell of nerves and Tiger Balm. As an unindexed runner, we had to start in the last start wave at 9am. The sun had already well and truly clocked in.
The first couple of miles were on road, the soundtrack provided by a small group of extremely enthusiastic Swiss alphorn players. Then the trail kicked up, and things got real. That first climb gave us 3,200 feet of gain – a mere warm-up, apparently.
The route was beautiful. Ridiculously so. But it didn’t care about your feelings. Every climb was long, every descent steeper than it looked on paper, and the air up top was thinner than I’d expected. The crux at the end of the route was a 5,000ft descent straight into the biggest climb of the day – a final 4,000ft slog when the tank was already empty.
It was, without question, the hardest event I’ve ever done. I’d underestimated the altitude, and it came back swinging. Spent most of the day somewhere between awe and survival mode.
Even when everything hurt, and I felt completely wrecked, I couldn’t help but look around in quiet awe. It was brutal, but I knew how lucky I was — lucky to be there, and luckier still to have a body and mind stubborn enough to keep moving forward.
Crossed the line dusty, crusty, broken, and grinning like an idiot. 18 hours 15 minutes. Smack bang in the middle of the pack with 20% DNF’ing. Martin finished half an hour before me afer we split up near the end whilst I dealt with my quad cramps.
Would I do it again? Obvs.
Tim Plumb
