I had a lot of concerns going into the Tor des Geants 330k. Would the course be too formidable for a big scaredy cat like me? Would I make it out alive without falling off some precipitous descent? Would I be able to gracefully handle days on end of sleep deprivation? Would Yuch and I survive 100+ hours together without tearing each other’s heads off? I never once thought that the biggest barrier to finishing the race would be my physical condition.
You see, my body has always been quite sturdy. I thru hiked 2,600+ miles of the Pacific Crest Trail in 2016. In 2019 I ran for 24 hours in circles around Chrissy Field in San Francisco with the most painful part of the experience being when I stopped. I may not be fast, but I’ve always felt strong when it came to the long game. On the other hand, my anxiety has always been a limiting factor when facing anything new, daunting, and well “scary”. Scary being any situation in which I could possibly harm myself or die. Going into the 2023 Tor des Geants, I worried that while my body might hold up, my mind might not. In contrast, I worried that Yuch’s physical body may not hold up. I’ve seen him at the end of 100-mile races and it’s not pretty. I also worried about our relationship. I wanted us to run together, but how compatible would we be when it came to his sleep issues and my fear of well, everything? I imagined us at a sleep station, me ready to go, and him going through his 30-minute teeth brushing routine. When he joined me on the PCT in 2016, we got into some terrible fights surrounding my inability to compromise with another human being who is different than I am. We had now been together for 9 years…would I be the same person who I was back then? Could we complete 330 kilometers in the Italian alps while keeping our relationship in tact?
The Tor des Geants aka Tour of Giants aka the TOR is a 330 kilometer tour (approximately 205 miles give or take) of the Aosta Valley starting and ending in Courmayeur, a beautiful north Italian village at the foot of Mont Blanc. It is easiest to wrap your head around this monumental voyage by dividing it into seven sections, with each section being approximately 50 kilometers of ups and downs in the mountains bookended by big refreshment/aid stations called “life bases”. At the life base, runners can recharge batteries (literally and figuratively), stock up on food, get a massage, sleep, and take a shower. Essentially it’s a part of the course where you can do all the things that you couldn’t do up in the mountains, and get all the things done you need to get done before going back up into the mountains. Not to mention, if you are going to drop from the race, the life base is where you do it. Dropping out in the mountains is not really an option, unless you want to request a helicopter pickup. Sprinkled in between each life base are smaller aid stations – huts and rifugios where food, hydration, and minimal aid are available. Some have sleeping options, too. There could be between three and nine aid stations between each life base depending on the section, and how many mountain passes or “Cols” it has. The big goal of the TOR is to get back to Courmayeur within 150 hours, but the smaller goal is to get to the next life base. The even smaller goal is to get to the next aid station in between life bases. One foot in front of the other.
My TOR journey started in January 2023 when I applied for the Tor des Lucas scholarship. The scholarship was created following Lucas Horan’s tragic death with the purpose of selecting one lucky person to train for and execute Lucas’ favorite race, the Tor des Geants 330k race around the Aosta Valley in Italy, in honor of Lucas. The scholarship provides financial support (race entry + travel stipend) as well as coaching from Peter Fain, Lucas’ former coach and previous RD of the Castle Peak 100k. I got the scholarship. Yuch decided if I/we were going to fly all the way out to Italy for me to do this race, he might as well tag along. He had also been interested in doing the race and it only made sense to do it all in the same year.
Getting into the TOR is not as easy as just signing up. Like many popular races these days, there is more demand than there are spots, so a lottery is held. Yuch got chosen in the lottery, but I did not which meant I would have to spend an extra $1000 to purchase a charity bib. Charity bib secured. Now all that was left was the training.
Peter told me he would coach me not just for the TOR, but also for every race I had leading up to it. This ended up including the Lake Sonoma Women’s Half Marathon, the Dipsea, and the Beaverhead 100k. We started by building up my aerobic capacity, working on my speed, and laying down the strength training groundwork for a strong core and upper body. Heading into the summer, the focus turned to weekend adventures in the mountains, running with a fully loaded pack, vert, nailing my nutrition, mastering trekking poles, and running on tired legs. When Peter first started coaching me, I had been battling a year long bout of plantar fasciitis that was long gone by now. I had also overcome a hamstring injury from spring soccer. My body felt strong.
Approaching race week, I talked to Peter about my strategy. I expressed my concern about running with Yuch, and also about running without him. Peter’s advice was to run our own races. If it worked out that we ended up going the same pace while running our own races then we could embrace it, but until then we should be flexible aka “Operation Slinky”. Yuch was agreeable to the plan.
A lot happened the week before race week. I secured a new job at Marin Health, the job that I’d wanted since the moment I secured my graduate degree. I quit my job at HeartWorks, the job that I had loved for the last year and a half. The new job was significantly closer to home and would pay me a lot more. I felt invincible. Every decision that I had made since grad school was in pursuit of this job at Marin Health. I finally got my dream job and now I was going to do this epic race.
Although it was our preference to take public transportation, we rented a car in Geneva that we would drive to the race start and finish in Courmayeur. This was due to the Chamonix-Courmayeur tunnel closure that was conveniently occurring after UTMB, but before the TOR. The closure of the tunnel meant there would be no trains to Courmayeur. Instead we would be forced to take a very long detour by car.
In Geneva, we were able to see my friend Noemie, and her two kids. We then drove to Chamonix, aka Disneyland for trail runners, where we spent two nights taking in the scenery (but only doing one very easy run) and seeking last minute TOR items such as sunscreen (for me) and a Gatorade substitute (for Yuch). Both were surprisingly difficult to find. Do these people not use sunscreen?? Yuch ended up finding a sports drink that he later would find revolting. I would later settle on a small tube of overly priced sunscreen at an athletic store in Courmayeur.
In the end, the tunnel was open allowing us a quick trip from France to Italy. Our Airbnb in Courmayeur was pretty close to the Sports Center, where the TOR expo was, but a short drive to the town center. The day before the race the plan was to pick up our bib and drop off our follow bags at the expo. The follow bags are big duffel bags that runners can pack with necessities that they might need along the course. They would be available to us at every life base. My follow bag included an extra set of running clothes, extra socks, extra pair of shoes, a long sleeved shirt, a light weight hooded mid layer, extra Light Belt batteries, two extra headlamps, a phone charger, two portable phone chargers, soap in the event that I wanted to shower, a small towel, toothpaste and toothbrush, two big bags of potato chips, several bags of gummy candies, extra Skratch electrolyte packs, and some energy bars. Let me ask you this: Does this seem like too much, too little, or just the right amount of items for a follow bag? Read on to find out…
Unfortunately the bib pickup was not a fast process as there was a huge queue of runners ahead of us waiting to pick up their bibs. We grabbed a number and after realizing we would be waiting there for hours, we decided it made the most sense to wait it out at the Airbnb. We ended up parking the rental car at the Sports Center since we actually had found a spot that we weren’t so sure would be available later in the day. Where we would park this rental car while we were out on the course for an entire week without getting ticketed or towed had been a huge worry of Yuch’s, so it was a massive sigh of relief to have this problem solved. The only downside being we would now have to walk back to our Airbnb, back to the Sports Center, back to the Airbnb, and to the race start in the town center the next morning. That’s a lot of walking before running 330 kilometers. Or is it?
Leaving the Sports Center we ran into Jan Horan, Lucas’ mom who offered to drive us back to the Airbnb, and anywhere else we needed to be shuttled. Jan had come to crew Lucas when he ran the TOR in years past, and now it has become a tradition to come out to the race and support the scholarship recipient. She ended up giving us a ride back to the Airbnb and offered to pick us up in the morning to take us to the race start.
At the race start we immediately located Shane. Oh wait, I haven’t told you about Shane. I know, I know. You’ve been reading this far and I’m still not even at the race yet, but you must know about Shane! We first met Shane after the 2022 Swiss Peaks 100k. We were on the train the next morning after the race and started talking to another runner who had done the 360k, and he just so happened to be from San Rafael. What are the odds? I asked Shane who he ran with. Tamalpa? SFRC? Anyone we know? He replied, “no one”. I guess we left it there. Maybe we would see him sometime, running with no one, somewhere…in Marin.
Fast forward a year later. Yuch and I are training for the TOR by going up one of the steepest ascents to Tam. A trio of runners are coming down and one of them remarks at my t-shirt, “Swiss Peaks!” We meet Shane again but this time exchange numbers after learning he too is training for the TOR. As we got closer to the race, we exchanged itineraries and phone numbers. Yuch and I kept our U.S. phone numbers (only $100/month through Verizon international travel plan), but Shane had gotten an international phone number. As it turned out, something went awry with the phone number and he was unable to use his phone over there, and we were unable to reach him. But that’s okay, because what we would soon learn is that Shane always seems to appear, even when you least expect him. For example, when we went to the bib pickup at the expo, we had only just arrived when bam – out of 1,200 other runners tightly packed in a gym, there was Shane. That was when he told us he was unreachable by phone. We hung out for a bit and concluded that hopefully we would run into him again. And we did, the very next morning at the race start.
The race started at 10 am on September 10th on the bustling street of Via Roma in the Courmayeur town center. There was so much noise and fanfare, it was as if were out to do something EPIC, and we were! We met a gentleman who said he had run the TOR eight times. I thought, wow – he must really love this race. I think I will be happy to do it once. Any advice, I asked? He responded, go easy on the downhills.
Leaving the town center the course merges on to a single trail, going straight up hence a huge bottleneck. I didn’t mind though, because we had plenty of miles ahead of us, and plenty of time to do it in.
Courmayeur to Valgrisenche
Total distance and elevation gain: 48.55 k, 4048 m (13,280 ft)
I felt fantastic the first 50k. From the start to the first life base in Valgrisenche there were three cols, but who’s counting? It was pretty warm that first day, but I felt solid. As planned, Yuch and I traveled at our own paces. Each time I arrived at an aid station, Yuch was just leaving and would look back to me and give a friendly wave. This was a good compromise. If we weren’t going to be running together, at least we were close and aware of each other’s whereabouts.
At the aid stations I grabbed bread, cheese, and dried fruit. I was pleasantly surprised when I got to the first aid station that had more real food options, polenta squares! Mmm, I could get used to this.
Going up one of the early cols, I ran into Shane. He had stopped at the “side” of the trail, which at the time was a steep switchbacky trail up. He was curled up in a ball (upright) and had his hood on with his face barely visible. He did not look good. He said he was having trouble with the altitude, but would be fine so I kept moving on. I worried about him. If he was having trouble now, would he be able to do this?
I don’t know if I was surprised by the terrain yet or not. The ascents were steep, so you just hiked. Easy enough. The descents were steep, too, but seemingly runnable. I passed by many runners on the descent to the first life base at Valgrisenche. They seemed to be going downhill unusually slow and skiddishly. Meanwhile, I felt great and was flying. I thought about what the runner had told us at the start. Go easy on the downhills. I thought I was going easy. But was I going easy enough?
It was just starting to get dark as I approached Valgrisenche. I located my follow bag, but what the heck did I want from it? It was completely packed to the brim and difficult to locate items which I had segregated into individual ziplock bags. I began to peruse the buffet at the life base, which looked like a Thanksgiving dinner smorgasbord. Although I don’t typically eat meat, I decided I could use some protein so grabbed a piece of turkey and some potatoes on the side. Yuch was at the life base, too. I think we were having the same thoughts and fears about leaving the life base alone and heading out into the dark. We unanimously decided to go into the night together.
Valgrisenche to Cogne
Total distance and elevation gain: 104k, 9282 m (30,452 ft)
I can’t really remember the cols we covered in the night. Like the last section, this one had three. One of the cols, either Fenetre or Entrelor, had a memorable descent. It was very steep, and especially precarious in the night time. I recall I couldn’t keep up with Yuch but was comforted to have the company of a Ukranian woman who was just as slow, if not more than I. She had done the race several times. I told her “You must really love this race!” She said that she was pretty sure she failed to remember each time how absolutely crazy it was.
The sun was just beginning to come up as we approached the last col, Col Loson before the life base at Cogne. The sunrise was a game changer. The early morning before the sun comes up can be the coldest, and the arrival of the sun not only meant warmth, but emerging from the nighttime aka the time when people should be sleeping. I wasn’t really tired, but I was getting there. Yuch and I had decided that there was no need to sleep in the first 24 hours. In a 100-mile race, runners do not typically sleep, so why start now? We planned to get some sleep on our second night, wherever that might be.
We reunited with Shane on the ascent to Col Loson. It was nice to have the extra company, especially company that speaks the same language! The climb was relentless – over 5,000 feet in 7.5 miles. On the way up I noticed one or two runners who would cut the switchbacks, which seemed like an odd thing to do in a race like this. This would not be the last time we witnessed this.
Arriving to Cogne around 1 pm on Day 2 (Sunday, 9/11), I first began to doubt my journey ahead. We were 27 hours in, 100k down with over 200k to go, and already my legs felt wrecked. I thought I had been taking it easy, but nothing prepares your body for the damage it will endure on the TOR. Entering the life base at Cogne, a volunteer asked me how I was doing. I told them my legs felt trashed, and I seriously wondered how I was going to do more. Being Italian, they didn’t totally understand the word “trashed” so I had to find an alternative word to use. Once they understood what I was saying, they told me not to worry, that I would feel as good as new after leaving the life base. They also mentioned that John Kelly, previous Barkley finisher/winner, had felt the same way entering Cogne. He nearly dropped out, but after a short rest left in tip top shape (or something to that effect).
Taking a shower seemed to make sense at the time. It was really warm and we were exhausted. The shower was time consuming, but felt amazing to emerge clean, renewed, and with a fresh pair of running clothes. We again then faced the task of contemplating the life base buffet and our follow bags. For all the work that I had put into stuffing my follow bag, none of this stuff was of interest to me nor very easy to contemplate in a tired state. Yuch and I must have easily spent an hour unpacking our follow bags, staring at the items, moving the items to and fro, and then repacking them. Shane was now with us although he hadn’t wasted his time showering and probably thought we were crazy. His follow bag didn’t have nearly the same amount of junk that ours did. When all was said and done, I think we had spent three hours at that life base. I think Peter was worried that I wasn’t moving because he kept texting me “constant forward motion”. Easier said than done.
Cogne to Donnas
Total distance and elevation gain: 149.77k, 12050 m (39,534 ft)
Just as the Italian volunteer had promised, we felt pretty good leaving Cogne. We had 46 kilometers to the next life base at Donnas, and there was no way we were going to make it there by night. We started planning when and where we would sleep that second night. Surely we would be ready for some shut eye by then. Our cheat sheet showed three rifugios between Cogne and Donnas. Rifugios are basically what they sound like, high elevation huts along the trail to seek refuge (food and place to sleep). With a whopping three rifugios in our future, perhaps we didn’t need to make plans. We could play it by ear and stop at whichever one we fancied.
Except, we made one mistake. The first two rifugios were actually NOT places that we could stay. Upon further scrutiny and to our dismay, we realized that these were simply listed as “way points” on our cheat sheet. Why we should care about these abandoned rifugios with no food, water, or beds, I never understood. What I did know is that now we were going to have to book it to Rifugio Dondena, the only place with a bed between Cogne and Donnas. Feeling demoralized at that last non-rifugio rifugio, I told Yuch I was so tired maybe we should just sleep there. He was not happy at the thought of sleeping somewhere that was not an actual rifugio or life base, so we powered on.
Despite the recent bad news and our exhaustion, something miraculous happened between Cogne and Donnas. I felt stronger. The human body is amazing. It wants to adapt to the conditions that we give it. The Cogne volunteer had been right. Some food and rest had apparently been enough to keep my body moving forward. It was adapting along the way, and as long as I kept sprinkling in some food, water, and rest I might in fact be able to keep this engine moving! Yuch felt the same way, and we were in disbelief that this race was so quickly transforming us.
We arrived at Rifugio Dondena around 9 pm. The timing could not have been more perfect. Cold and exhausted, we stepped into a warm cozy dwelling with a roaring fireplace and a barkeeper at our service. Would you like pasta or spelt salad? How about a beer? We opted for the spelt salad as it seemed like a nice reprieve from everything else we had been eating. Yuch got a beer. Although the aid station bread, cheese and dried fruit had seemed delightful at the beginning, it starts to get old when you see the same thing aid station after aid station. We took the bistro table right next to the fireplace. I was in heaven.
After dinner, we inquired about some beds to sleep in. Beds could only be “rented” for 2 hours. As soon as we entered the room, the clock started, and two hours later, someone would wake us up promptly. There were no private rooms available so we were put into a dark room with a number of beds and runners already fast asleep in them. As quietly as we could, we peeled off our noisy layers and placed our dirty listless bodies into bed.
Lying in bed I shut my eyes, but I did not find darkness. Bright colors and objects moved from side to side in every which direction. Every thought I’ve ever had moved wildly in my head. This was not going to be easy. I looked over at Yuch and he looked fast asleep. What was I going to do, just lie here for two hours doing nothing? At some point, I woke up. It was only at this moment that I had realized that I must have fallen asleep. It had been one hour. I looked over at Yuch who was again, seemingly fast asleep. I realized I needed to get up. I grabbed my belongings and tip toed out of the room.
Outside of the bedroom the rifugio was alive with the energy of the TOR. Runners were coming and going. I requested a cup of coffee and sipped on this wonderful brew while sending out a couple of texts to friends and family, and catching up on my Duolingo (can’t break that streak). This was way better than sleeping more. I had had just enough sleep and after this coffee would be ready for more that the trail had to offer. When the two hours had been up, I noticed the woman who had checked us in was not going to wake Yuch up. Perhaps it had been an unspoken arrangement that since I was now awake I would wake him up. I went into the room, and knelt down next to his bed with my hands atop his blankets. “Yuch, Yuch! It’s time to get up!” It was only after receiving a tired and confused “huh?”, that I realized I had gotten the wrong bed. Oops. I apologized and moved over to the next bed over.
As I waited for Yuch to get his stuff together, I headed down to the dining room. I was pleasantly surprised to find Shane who had just recently arrived. He was feeling pretty down in the dumps and did not think he was going to be able to continue. I couldn’t fully understand why as nothing seemed to be especially wrong. He said he just wasn’t having any fun anymore and thought if he dropped out he might be better able to enjoy Italy. I asked him if he was eating to which he responded – not really. He said he had been trying to eat at the aid stations, but then would get so wrapped up in the trail that he couldn’t be bothered to eat in between. I could totally related to this, but told him he would feel much better if he ate. He did, and after Yuch joined us, we told him we should all set out together. He had been running alone up to this point and that could have also been playing a role in how he was feeling.
I felt an amazing sense of renewal leaving the rifugio, now Day 3 (Monday, September 12th aka my 40th birthday!) The three of us were running together and I thought, this is what I love about running – running in the night time when most people are sleeping, enjoying each other’s company, on a crazy adventure. At one point we picked up another runner to join our group. He did not speak English very well, but we gathered enough to understand that he did not want to run alone as he had been hallucinating earlier. We welcomed him to our group. This run from Rifugio Dondena to Donnas would be one of my favorite memories from the TOR. We arrived to Donnas in the very early morning (around 6 am) while it was still dark. Jan ended up meeting us there and bringing me a pizza which was well received. Nothing at the life base nor my follow bag looked of interest to me, although to me and Shane’s dismay, Yuch seemed to find pleasure in eating a large number of hard boiled eggs. At Donnas I decided to get a short massage which was painful but hopefully would help me going forward.
Donnas to Gressoney
Total distance and elevation gain: 204k, 17983 m (58,999 ft)
I left Donnas feeling mildly grouchy. Yuch can attest to this, although he may argue with the “mild” part. I’m not really sure why. I think I was just really tired. Although the coffee had really perked me up the previous night, I was now going on 48 hours with only one hour of sleep. With a lifetime of experience, Yuch is a master at going days on end with little sleep. Some might even say he had been training his whole life for this! Me, on the other hand, I was a softie who needed 7-8 hours of sleep a night if I were to keep my emotional faculties in order. So the ascent out of Donnas was a quiet one as Yuch and I stuck together, but mostly didn’t speak.
Even thought it was only 8 am, I started wondering when our next sleep opportunity would be. Yuch did not love the experience at the rifugio. He already has anxiety around sleep and it didn’t help to have a strict time limit, nor did it help to be surrounded by a number of other quietly sleeping runners who may not be very pleased to be woken up by any sudden rustling. He had already decided if he was going to sleep again, it would have to be at the next life base at Gressoney. But that was 54 kilometers away, and we weren’t exactly moving fast. Who knows how long that 54 kilometers could take?
The first town leaving Donnas was Perloz where we were greeted by a symphony of cowbells (courtesy of a Perloz resident) pastries, and delicious fresh squeezed orange juice. It’s true we had only come 6 kilometers from Donnas but remember, the TOR is very slow-going, and even a 6 kilometer stretch deserves celebration and a rest stop!
The next big climb on this stretch was to Rifugio Delfa E Agostino Coda – at 7,400 ft. I’m not sure how this happened, but at some point Yuch ended up behind me. I kept ascending, thinking he would eventually catch up. It didn’t make sense to wait, especially with Operation Slinky in effect. As I arrived to the top of Rifugio Coda around 2:30 pm, I started to wonder if something more serious had happened. In the meantime, I helped myself to delicious rifugio food – namely a homemade quiche and cubed melon. Eventually Shane arrived, but no Yuch. I waited and waited and ate more quiche and melon. Shane decided to move on. Finally, Yuch arrived and indeed, something had happened.
On the climb up to Rifugio Coda, Yuch’s hand started to really bother him from gripping his trekking pole so he had stopped to wrap it up. He was in a terrible state of worry when he arrived at the rifugio, stating that he had no idea how he was going to go on. He appeared to have some kind of overuse injury and the simple act of using trekking poles was causing him a lot of pain. I started to worry too. If he had to drop out, that would leave me on my own. My first suggestion was to ditch the trekking poles, but he responded that there was absolutely no way he could do this cray steep course without poles. My second suggestion was to seek help from the medics at the rifugio. Yuch did not think this was a helpful suggestion as he could not fathom what they could do to help. He finally agreed that while he would not ask for help, he would allow me to ask them for help. In the end, they were able to help, by suggesting an alternative way to gripping the trekking poles that would put less stress on his hands. Crisis averted.
The next place we would get aid after Rifugio Coda was about 8.5 kilometers away, Rifugio Barma. But just as it is for everything on the TOR, that 8.5 kilometers took way longer than expected, roughly 2.5 hours. Not only did it take a long time, but we kept getting faked out by perfectly good looking structures and huts, only to find out that they were not Rifugio Barma. Here’s a suggestion if you ever decide to do the TOR. Do not look at your watch. Do not anticipate when you will arrive to the next aid station, because it will always take so much longer than you think it will take. Even when you think it is just around the corner, it never is. And even if it is around that corner, that is the biggest and longest corner than you can ever have imagined. So take my advice and be in the present. And when that aid station or rifugio arrives sooner than you expect, allow yourself to have that pleasant “surprise.”
Arriving at Rifugio Barma was a double edged sword, for me. It was a relief to get to a nice warm shelter with hot polenta and coffee. But it also killed me mentally knowing that we were not staying. I was so tired, but we had agreed we would not sleep until the next life base at Gressoney. I could not thoroughly enjoy what the rifugio had to offer me because all I could think about was the long road ahead, and the long night ahead. I was scared about what was yet to come.
We climbed Col du Marmontana after Rifugio Coda, and arrived at the Lago Chiaro aid station (181k) around sunset. I arrived in tears. My legs had slowly been breaking down since Donnas, but my right leg was noticeably becoming harder and harder to bend on the descents. It felt as though with each bend, I was doing more and more damage to the quad attachment to the knee. I imagined reaching the final leg bend and that attachment just snapping. Arriving to Lago Chiaro I asked Yuch to fetch me some food from the aid station. I could not bear to show my tear stained face to anyone. He brought me back more of the usual – crackers, cheese, cookies. I could not stop crying. I didn’t know what I was going to do. Yuch, being the wonderful person that he is, said this: “Well, when I didn’t know what to do with my hand, you suggested I ask for help. Maybe you should do the same thing”.
So, that is what I did. Although, I can’t remember if I did it myself, or asked Yuch to do it for me! Either way, I found myself in a dark tent behind the aid station. The sun had set by now and the only light in the tent came from the headlamps on top of the volunteer’s heads. They sat me down and assessed my knee. With minimal English they suggested taking some painkillers and wrapping the knee. The other option would be to take a helicopter down the mountain. The latter was out of the question. I did not have a broken leg, so surely I could continue on. Part of me was annoyed that they could not do more for me. I wanted them to give me an answer to my question which was, “What is wrong with my leg and do you think it is safe to continue?”. But they could not give me the answer I wanted and could only offer me two options – continue or not. I accepted the painkillers and bandage, and continued on.
The painkillers and the bandage helped at first. Until they didn’t. It was only 4 kilometers from Lago Chiaro to the next aid at Colle Della Vecchia. I found that I could still ascend. It was the descents that were the hard part. It got even harder because I started favoring the injured side, so much to the point that I was now having even more knee pain on the left side. Because it hurt so much to bend my knees on the descents, I had a brilliant idea. I would no longer bend my knees. Man, I’m so smart. Much to Yuch’s alarm, I started descending sideways. I rejoiced that I had found a solution to my issue, but to Yuch it was not a solution. I felt I was moving quite briskly using this new technique, but to him I was moving at the speed of a snail.
Arriving at Colle Della Vecchia (185k) around midnight was yet another victory, but we were not victorious. In fact, Yuch was pretty darn sure that I could not go on. We played the same game that we did at Lago Chiaro. Ask the medics for help, and get offered two suggestions: continue on, or take a helicopter down. I again refused the helicopter. Yuch was furious, perplexed, you name it. The reality he saw was that I was barely moving up and down these mountains. Sure, I had gotten helicopter insurance (and I suggest you do, too!). But my reality was that I was still moving. In retrospect, I was not being stubborn. I think when my legs first started to be a problem, I genuinely thought that I could work through it. At this point, I knew – ok, maybe I’m not fit to finish this race, but I’m not broken and I can make it to Gressoney without a helicopter if I just keep moving forward. Regardless of what we were going to do, at that moment I could not do anything. I could not make a decision. I was so tired. We had been moving for over 60 hours with only one hour of sleep. Maybe if I could just get some sleep, I would wake up and feel better. Maybe my knee would work then. The volunteers at Colle Della Vecchia suggested getting some sleep in the tent behind the aid station, which had only two cots.
I felt bad that we were taking up the only two cots that they had at the top of this mountain with other desperate runners arriving in the middle of the night. But, I also knew I was in a desperate situation. Lying down on the cot, I covered myself with a wool blanket that had been used by multiple runners before me and tried to fall asleep. My legs were throbbing with pain. I could not fall asleep. I texted Peter but could not get through to him. Yuch had fallen asleep and I was lying here useless, not getting any sleep at all. Maybe an hour later I realized we couldn’t stay here anymore. We were taking up two valuable spots that others could use to get critical rest. And I had absolutely nothing to show for it. No sleep, and the same messed up legs. I tried to wake Yuch up and told him we had to go and we had to go now. Emerging from this brief sleep was a huge shock for Yuch. To his complete surprise, he had sweat during his sleep and awoke to an absurdly soaked shirt and down jacket. To make matters worse he had slept in his contacts this time around and they were now stuck to his eyeballs. He fumbled to gather all his things in the dark in a half-asleep stupor with hard lenses stuck to his eyes. He had nothing dry to put on, was freezing cold, and now we were getting kicked out of this tent and off this mountain back into the cold night.
It was only 5.6 kilometers to the next aid, “Niel”. Maybe, I should stop using the word “only”. We arrived around 4:30 am. You do the math. Gressoney was so close, yet so far away. Dortoir La Gruba is actually a bed and breakfast in the small village of Niel , but tonight it was acting as a bustling rifugio for a select group of weirdos who like to run, walk, and hobble in the mountains for days without sleep. I peeked into the kitchen to see giant vats of polenta and boiling water for pasta. Runners were all over the place, mostly upright, but some tucked horizontally under benches taking much needed naps. Everyone seemed to be having a good time. Everyone but me. I sat, eating my polenta slowly, filled with anxiety about leaving the rifugio once again. And then it started to rain.
Leaving a cozy rifugio w/ unlimited polenta and pasta to go into the dark and rain is not an easy task. It was 14 kilometers (8.7 miles) to the life base at Gressoney aka my finish line. But before then we had about 3,000 feet to climb and 3,300 feet to descend. The climb was brutal. Although I had previously been excelling at climbing, this was no longer the case. My tiredness was now becoming painstakingly evident in my emotional state. I was having trouble keeping it together. I cried and told Yuch if I found a suitable rock or tree, that I would just curl up and fall asleep. He urged me to keep moving as he was not generating much body heat with the current pace. We reached the top of the climb as the sun was rising, but the worst was yet to come. It was so cold and my legs had reached their maximum bending allowance.
Although it was officially morning, the sun had yet to do its job in fully warming us. I tried to keep up with Yuch, or at least lessen the gap between us but I could not move any faster. It took about 3.5 hours to travel the six kilometers between Niel to the last aid/rifugio at Bleckene. I saw the rifugio long before I arrived to it, and I believe the same was true for the volunteers and me. They knew something was wrong as they watched how long it took me to arrive.
At this point the goal was unequivocal: get to Gressoney. We tried to communicate the situation to the volunteers, but the language barrier was making it difficult. Despite the language barrier, my current ability was not at all difficult to comprehend. They had seen how absolutely and insanely slow I was moving, and there was still talk about me getting a helicopter for these last seven kilometers. I couldn’t believe that people were still discussing helicopters when I was so close to where I needed to be! In the end, they gave me more painkillers (in sublingual form), and we set on our way for the final leg.
Seven kilometers has never taken so long in my life. Nor has it ever taken so long in Yuch’s life. Of all the descents of the entire course thus far, this was the easiest, most gentle, most runnable, most forgiving. But none of that made any difference to me, because every single step forward, whether it was up, down, flat, or sideways felt the same – the most Herculean effort I could possibly give. This probably didn’t seem the case from an outsider’s perspective, so you’ll just have to take my word for it. With every step, I prayed that my quads would not snap. I had reached my painkiller max, and they were no longer helping me. Yuch was now going at his own pace which meant he would go on ahead, then stop and close his eyes until I caught up. Apparently my pace was too sleepy for him, so this method was preferable. Many many runners passed me during this time. They seemed to be flying by, but then again, that’s probably what it’s like to be a snail – everything is that much faster.
We arrived at the Gressoney life base just after 11 am on Tuesday, September 13th. I had covered 204 kilometers (136 miles) in 73 hours with the last 20k taking about 11 hours. I had been in communication with Jan through WhatsApp so she was waiting for us as soon as we arrived. I went inside to officially drop out and to grab my follow bag. Dropping out was a no-brainer. I never once debated whether I should continue on or not. Gressoney had been my finish line for a very long time, and I was so proud of myself for getting there on my own two feet.
The only problem with dropping at Gressoney is that you are a long way from where you started in Courmayeur. Thankfully, Jan had a hotel room in Gressoney, so the plan was to shower and rest there, then she would drive us back to Courmayeur. While we were showering and resting she made us some soup with the little ingredients she had in her hotel room. We then passed out in her king size bed. That evening she drove us back to our Airbnb in Courmayeur.
September 14th – The day after
The next morning I woke up with a full on cold. I had a headache, congestion, fatigue, and mild fever. I walked myself over to the closest market to fetch soy milk for my tea and was surprised that I could walk. I was glad that I hadn’t damaged my legs beyond repair. I made myself tea and went back to sleep. I had a lot of catching up to do. Around 3 pm we began to fully emerge from our Airbnb and decided we wanted to pay Shane a visit at the last life base at Ollomont. We were pleased to know he was still in the race and wanted to support him as much as we could. Since he had been struggling with eating, we thought he could benefit from some non- aid station food. We stopped by a market in Aosta and picked up a variety of options – smoothies, pot-stickers, and naan. In retrospect, this is a weird combination of food items, but they seemed like good alternatives to aid station food at the time.
Although we had been tracking Shane the whole day and had the whole day to get to Ollomont, we missed his arrival. When we arrived to the life base, he had already checked in. Unfortunately, non runners are not allowed inside the life bases without a previously procured badge, so we were stuck waiting outside, hoping that we might see him when he exited, which could be between zero and five hours. Yuch ended up asking a volunteer if he could sneak in briefly to find his runner, and they approved. The next thing I knew, Yuch had located a bone-weary Shane and brought him outside to the crew designated picnic tables. Shane was very confused as to why we were no longer running and instead bringing him food. We caught up him up on the events of the previous day as he wrapped potstickers up in his naan into a naan-potsticker burrito. Turns out the food was edible after all.
September 15th – The day after the day after
We planned to watch Shane’s finish in Courmayeur the next day, but once again our timing was bad, and we missed him. We ended up driving to the Sports Center where we knew he eventually would need to get all of his stuff. Supporting Shane had been our last hope and joy, akin to supporting your child achieve their dreams even if it is too late for you. I was so proud that he finished the race, despite being curled up on the side of the trail with altitude problems so early on, and nearly dropping out of the race that second night at Rifugio Dondena.
To me, the race had been a huge success because Shane had finished. I, too, had gotten to my finish line at Gressoney. I was not sad that I had dropped out. I was proud that I had done what I had done, which was more than I had ever done before. I had been through beautiful mountains and villages, experienced ups and downs, and witnessed the strength of the human body and mind. Most of all, I was proud that Yuch and I had supported each other along the way. I had come a long way from the person that I was on the PCT in 2016, the person who was not able to compromise or roll with the punches. I had waited and helped Yuch troubleshoot his trekking pole woes, but he had the far more arduous task of staying by my side for that very exhausting trek to Gressoney. He could have left. He could have waved and said, “See you there!” But for some reason, he decided to stay with me. I thought, this person must really love me.
September 17th – Geneva, Switzerland
I was not able to “celebrate” much in the days after dropping. The cold had overtaken my body which couldn’t put up much of any kind of decent fight due to its depleted state. Yuch had gone with Jan to visit some castles, but I had spent most of my time in bed, with a couple of trips to get gelato in the town center. Even on our last night in Geneva, I was still sick. We were staying in a very nice hotel with excellent proximity to the airport where we would depart the next morning.
That evening, I was lying in my bed resting. Yuch was dealing with the important task of checking us in for our flight the next morning. For some reason he was able to check me in, but not himself. Each time he would try to check himself in a big red alert sign would pop up. I thought it was kind of amusing, but he was getting very frustrated. I kept telling him not to worry about it, and that we’d figure it out in the morning at the airport. The frustration and pacing back and forth continued. And then suddenly, he just stopped and walked over to my bed and sat down. Out of nowhere, Yuch presented a ring and proceeded to ask me to marry him. I was very confused by the quick turn of events but eventually said yes. Although we had been supporting each other in various ways for the last nine years, our journey together through the Italian Alps had been the culmination showing us that we wanted to continue to support each other in the years to come.
Meg-A-Miles 