Race Report SwissPeaks 170

Are you curious what it is like to run 177 kilometers with 11,500 meters of elevation gain, and be on the road for more than 40 hours without sleeping? Read my race report of the SwissPeaks170 here.

Start: Thursday 5 September 2024 08:00

Race distance: 177km – 11,500 meters of elevation gain – 13,300 meters of descent

Time: 40 hours 37 minutes 4 seconds

Preparation To be optimally prepared at the start, I enlisted the help of coach René Kuijs and arranged at work to work only 40% for three months. This gave me sufficient time to cover a lot of kilometers and to recover properly.

On average, in the 12 weeks leading up to SwissPeaks, I ran well over 100 kilometers per week with 5,000 meters of elevation gain. During the preparation, I did a lot of 'back-to-back' training runs. That means doing a long run two days in a row. I also ran two three-day treks, including the 170-kilometer Via Grischuna with 9,000 meters of elevation gain, where I set a First Time Record. Three weeks before SwissPeaks, I contracted COVID-19 and was bedridden for five days. Fortunately, I recovered well from this.

The weather forecast for the first day did not look good. A lot of rain, and at the highest point of the route, snow and wind chill temperatures below freezing. The rain was expected to continue into the night, and then the second day would be a beautiful sunny day. Due to the bad weather, the start and the beginning of the route had been changed less than 24 hours in advance. Instead of being at the hotel next to the start, I was on the shuttle bus to the start at 5:30.

After a short, restless night, the moment had finally arrived: my first 100+ mile race!

Start and Day 1: Rain and mud. 8:00 start in Thyon. I was a bit nervous, but mostly I was really looking forward to this adventure. Rain jacket and gloves on and go. As long as it doesn't get cold, rain isn't so bad. 'It's just water!' The first ten kilometers flew by; before I knew it, we were at the first aid station. After a warm broth, we immediately started a 1,000-meter climb. I was glad I had my gloves, because the higher we got, the colder it became. The first descent was immediately a 1,600m drop, a large part of which was through the mud. Tough! I almost slipped a few times and immediately realized I would have preferred to wear my other shoes with more grip. Fortunately, I was able to let Kyra and Stephan know, who had come along as support and crew. What a luxury!

Faster than expected, I arrived at VP2 in Lourtier at km 27. In the meantime, I had sent a voice message to the crew, something I kept doing throughout the race to pass on my 'order', so Kyr and Steef were already ready with my other shoes and quickly swapped my water bottles. I felt good.

The entire route was marked with flags, but right after the aid station, I took a wrong turn. I automatically followed the trail instead of a short stretch of asphalt road. I discovered this after 400 meters of climbing no less than 160 meters. A shame, but at least now I was more alert to the route markings for the rest of the race.

From VP2, it was only 5.5 km to the next VP, and crew was not allowed there. And 22 kilometers later, I would see the crew again. It helps enormously to break such a long race into manageable sections. For me, it became 15 shorter stages, from aid station to aid station. Instead of thinking about the total distance, I focused only on the next point. This makes such a race much lighter mentally.

I went slowly, but steadily. For the journey, I had pancakes, dried fruit, energy bars, squeezable fruit, gels, and Tailwind, a drink mix with electrolytes and carbohydrates. For the aid stations, I had prepared couscous, pasta salad, instant noodles, and wraps with rice and beans, which Kyr and Steef had with them, along with plenty of spare clothing. The plan was to keep eating as much solid food as possible and save gels for later in the race, when eating becomes a challenge.

Contrary to the weather forecast, it became almost completely dry in the afternoon. Visibility was limited, but it wasn't cold. I just kept taking step after step, and the hours flew by. Near the aid station at Prassurny at km 58, I heard Reinier Zonneveld booming through the speaker and saw my crew standing there. I still had enough energy to do a little dance on the way to the final meters of climbing before the aid station. By then it was almost 6:00 PM, and I saw a bit of blue sky for the first time today. What a treat!

Cola, broth, couscous, and back on the road. First, past familiar territory at Champex Lac—I walked past here last year with the CCC—and then came another 1,700-meter climb. The beginning wasn't too bad, and here I really enjoyed walking alone beside a peaceful brook. I even recorded a video saying I was looking forward to the night. Well, I certainly learned my lesson... But first, the climb. I had to dodge a herd of cows that, with calves and horns, didn't seem to be planning on moving aside at all. So be it. I'd rather take a detour!

Soon it got steeper and steeper, and there seemed to be no end to it. It was nothing but boulders that we had to climb and scramble over. I even put away my poles to continue on hands and feet. This climb to Fenétre d'Arpette took me 3.5 hours. Before I even reached the top, it was dark and time for the headlamp. Once at the top, I thought I could catch my breath for a bit, but the 4km descent with a 30% gradient demanded full concentration. It also took quite a long time for the aid station to arrive, but once at Col de la Forclaz, I was welcomed by my crew and a whole group of enthusiastic supporters standing by the campfire with a beer. What a great atmosphere. I had some delicious noodles here, put on something clean for the night, brushed my teeth, and I was completely ready to go again. On to Salvan.

Night 1: Mental battle . I arrived there at 2 a.m. And even at this time, Steef was ready with food and drink. There was an opportunity to sleep here, but I still felt good. After this, the route was modified because the original route was deemed too dangerous. The route now ran through the Dailley Gorge. Really cool, with a headlamp, weaving between the rocks, past all sorts of waterfalls and... lots of stairs. Always nice. There is something special about walking at night with a light on. The only thing you see is the beam of your headlamp and sometimes that of another runner. You live completely in your own bubble.

After the gorge, things got tough. It was still a long way from morning, I was getting tired, and I was barely making any progress. This is where the mental battle in my head began: - What are you doing? Why did you think this would be fun? In 24 hours, you’ll still be walking. You’re not well!! - I tried to push these thoughts away with the thought: - This is awesome. You’ve been on the road longer than ever. Step by step, you’ll get there eventually. - It also helps to think about fun things. I see it as a game to keep negative thoughts under control, and in bursts, I succeed. For a moment, I gave in to my fatigue and lay down on a rock for a power nap with my alarm set for 20 minutes. After three minutes, I realized that I was mainly getting cold and wouldn't fall asleep anyway. So, I walked back into the night.

When the end of the climb was finally in sight, it was slowly getting light again, and this really felt like a victory! As the sun rose, I felt my energy returning, and even though this was a very challenging descent with chains and ropes, I started to feel mentally very strong again. I immediately forgot that the night had been quite tough. Just a few more kilometers, and Kyr and Steef would be ready again with clean clothes, sunscreen, sunglasses, and breakfast. Because it was light and no longer cloudy, I could see how beautiful it was here. I was enjoying myself again!

Day 2 Unlike the previous day, the weather was beautiful today. The surroundings were so lovely. I was also further than ever, on the road longer than ever, and had climbed more vertical meters than ever. That gave me energy. It also helped that I could look out for Kyr and Steef every time, and it was very nice that the longest climbs were all in the first part of the route, so I already had them behind me!

After the aid station, it would be only 10km to the next one. Here I met many runners running the 360km and 660km races. These runners had already been on the road for days, but naturally they also take more rest breaks and time to sleep. I enjoyed having a chat with them and hearing their stories. You also saw some runners lying asleep here and there under a tree or on a bench; that was a nice sight.

Just when it started getting really hot and I had drunk all my water, it turned out there was no aid station. Apparently, Chaud Palin had been removed due to a lack of volunteers, but this hadn't been communicated. I didn't have a drop of water left and it was hot. A disappointment. Fortunately, I managed to stay positive; 'only 9km to go, then I can drink whatever I want and I'll probably come across a tap eventually'. No tap, but a small river from which I drank greedily.

Day two really flew by. It was already late afternoon when I reached the top somewhere and suddenly saw a large lake in the distance. I was completely confused for a moment. I thought there was something about this lake? Did I know this lake? It really took me a while to realize that both the finish and the campsite were located by the lake, where I had already spent four days. Hehe, hello sleep deprivation!

Shortly after this, the 'mindfucks' started again as well. Already on the first night, illuminated by the beam of my headlamp in the dark, wet forest, I regularly thought I was seeing something that wasn't there. It wasn't really hallucinating, more imagining, which I knew immediately wasn't real. This started on day 2 even before it got dark. I actually found it quite funny, but I was also determined not to let these delusions distract me on the second night.

Before it got dark, I arrived at Chalet de Blansex, where my crew was already waiting. This was another euphoric moment because my watch showed 151km – 151!!! How bizarre. I could hardly believe it myself, and from here it was 'only' 27km to the finish. Even though 27 kilometers is still quite a distance, it really felt like a countdown to me. By then, the pasta wasn't tasting that good anymore, so I decided to only carry liquid nutrition for the final stretch of the race. Shortly after the aid station, I put on a six-hour music set that I used to play to death. I would be at the finish before the end of the set. That was a nice thought. By then, I was running as the fourth woman. I could hardly believe this either, and it gave me some extra energy.

Dark again and the finish line. Soon it got dark again and it was time for my headlamp. I had decided not to look around too much to avoid getting distracted. I was very focused and task-oriented, and that actually went very well.

A 360km runner wanted to strike up a conversation with me, which I had enjoyed all day, but really couldn't handle anymore. He asked me things, but I couldn't answer even the simplest questions; for example, he asked where we had started. I had already been awake for well over 40 hours at that point, and I simply couldn't bring myself to do it anymore.

The climb was long and I was getting hungry, but what I didn't know yet was that perhaps the toughest descent of the entire race was coming after this. 4km at 20% and nothing but loose stones. Beforehand, I was dreading the second time it would get dark the most, but I had to stay so focused on the descent that I didn't even have time to get tired. It took a very long time again before I reached the aid station, and by then I was incredibly hungry. Too bad I had only brought gels and squeeze fruit. Once at the aid station, I quickly ate a bowl of lentil soup, had a cola and some chips, and went on for the very last part!

My watch said another 15km, the gentleman at the aid station said another 10. So I didn't actually know exactly how far it was left. As often happens along the way, I had long conversations with myself – only 14 km left, or 9, yeah that’s quite a difference, isn't it, but what does it matter you’re almost there. Nothing or no one is going to stop you now! –. And so the very last climb passed and I started the final descent. I was so happy that I was almost there, but I found the beginning of the descent terrible. Over a narrow trail, overgrown with plants, with huge boulders in between. Fortunately, after a while the path became a bit more runnable and I could also see the light of Le Bouveret getting closer and closer. During the last few meters of the descent through the forest, my knee started to protest, but I knew I was almost there and I managed to keep going. Once I reached the asphalt, I was so happy. I had run the route from here three days earlier, so I recognized it. While you could almost see the finish line, the route was still a 2 km out-and-back loop. Actually pretty nasty after 175 kilometers in the legs, but it didn't matter anymore. I was almost there!

And there was the finish line at last! As the 4th woman, 3rd in my category, and 18th overall, I finished at 00:37 in a time of 40 hours and 37 minutes.

I was so happy that I did another jump for joy when I crossed the finish line and immediately threw my arms around my crew; I am so grateful to them!

After that I put on something warm, and then I collapsed. I drank a protein shake and then stumbled to the campsite with difficulty. With my last ounce of strength and a little help from Kyr, I managed to stand under the shower for a moment before flopping into bed.

What a day, what a race.