Standing on the shoulders of Geants
This wasn’t part of the plan….
I’d reached the top of the 2,500m Col Arp ahead of Jasmin Paris and Sabrina Verjee. I’d been nervous about getting caught in a queue, so had set out hard.
Looking at the running royalty around me, I’d started too fast, and was way out of my depth. On the downhills it was absolutely frantic, with runners bombing down.
This was NOT how I expected (or wanted) a race as long and as challenging as Tor des Geants to be. So I backed off the pace; I was here to finish and there were days of running to go yet.
Tor des Geants is a 200 mile (330 km) race around the Aosta Valley, Italy.
Starting and ending in Courmayeur, it’s split into 7 stages, separated by ‘Life Bases’ where you can access extra kit, eat, sleep and get medical attention. Any time spent eating, sleeping etc counts towards your finish time.
This is my experience of my 2024 Tor: what went right, what could have gone better, and what I learnt from it. My memories are vivid but fragmented, and my writing reflects that.
If you want a detailed course description, you’ll have to look elsewhere. A great option is Anthony Stevens’ Among Giants.
Stage 1: Courmayeur to Valgrisenche
49 km | 4,300m ascent | 9:30 hrs running | 1 hr at Valgrisenche
Lesson one, don’t start too fast. I certainly didn’t have the relaxed start I wanted for my first 200 miler.
The scenery though! The most stunningly wild mountains imaginable, with the most rocky, technical and uneven paths (un)imaginable. They made the Lake District paths look like the smoothest tarmac!
I got into the first Life Base at Valgrisenche just as it was getting dark and starting to rain. I was being crewed by my coach, Tom. Now crew weren’t allowed in the main Life Base, and I vividly remember sitting on a bench in a cramped, damp tent next to Natalie White as she was helped by Robbie Brittain and Gary House.
Thus begun my Life Base drill. Arrive. Charge watch, phone and headtorch (using my wife Sally’s, patented multi charger and battery approach). Replace food in pack. Eat. Change clothes. Sleep (sometimes). Leave.
Stage 2: Valgrisenche to Cogne
55 km | 4,900m ascent | 16:30 hrs running | 3:15 hrs at Cogne
It was 7:30pm and too early to sleep, so after an hour I headed out into the night. I was in a waterproof, synthetic down jacket, long sleeve, waterproof trousers, tights and waterproof mittens. It was going to be cold and wet.
The course is incredibly well marked, full stop, and especially for a race that long. Reflective flags make it even easier to see the route at night. The only slight issue is occasionally the marked path diverges from the GPX route which is disconcerting. That led to me getting lost once but thankfully only slightly.
Stage Two has both the Tor’s largest climbs, the Col Entrelor (3,000m) and the Col Loson which, at just shy of 3,300m, is the highest point of the course.
I could definitely feel the altitude. My breathing was ok but above 2,500m, boy was I working hard just by walking. I had to stop and rest every 15 minutes or so.
I’d done some heat training which should have helped with altitude but to be honest, I couldn’t tell you if it did. It certainly helped with running in the heat 😉
Fortunately my time in Grindelwald and Annecy had helped prepare me for the big climbs. It’s a real challenge getting a 1,000m+ climb in the UK, and most of the climbs in Tor are well above that.
But these trips hadn’t prepared me for running at altitude.
With our kids back at school, arriving early to acclimatise was not an option. But for anyone thinking of Tor, I’d strongly suggest running at high altitude as part of your training. A number of people I know, including James who I coach, sadly had to drop out after breathing difficulties.
Having crossed Col Entrelor in a dusting of snow, it was just getting light when I left the aid station at Eaux Rousses. I vividly remember listening to a Koopcast about UTMB weekend on the initial climb.
The ascent to Col Loson seemed to take forever. And while the rain had thankfully stopped, the top of the Col was covered in snow. It was then down to Cogne and the next Life Base.
Reading that back, it all sounds very easy, but I was nearly as slow on the downs as I was on the ups. You really need to be mentally prepared.
Taking off my shoes at Cogne, I had a nasty shock. Both feet were macerated; my soles completely white with deep cracks in them. They required immediate attention but I didn’t have talc to dry them, so I tried Blister Shield instead.
Putting it on really hurt and I worried I was making them worse.
I’d be running for 27 hours without sleep, so I tried to get my head down despite it being 1pm. Tom had a campervan but you had to sleep in the Life Base; so that wasn’t an option.
It was a struggle getting to sleep. My knees, which felt fine running, hurt when I lay down, and my ‘Blister Shield-ed’ feet stung. I lay there for 3 hours but only slept for minutes. Thankfully when I did get up, my feet looked (and felt) much better.
Stage 3: Cogne to Donnas
46 km | 2,800m ascent | 11:15 hrs running | 4:15 hrs at Donnas
Having slowed down after my slightly giddy start, I was now amongst similar paced runners. In general I was passing on the climbs, then losing a few places on the descents in keeping with my relative strengths.
Tor is a giant oval round the Aosta Valley and Donnas is the low point (300m). Crossing the valley floor, you feel like you should be about half way but believe me, you're not.
As well as rugged mountain passes, there’s A LOT of rocky and tree-rooted paths through wooded gorges. None more so than in this stage. There are some flat road sections dotted through the race but if there’s an option to avoid the road, the organisers will take it.
I’d been using my poles on the uphills and putting them away for the downs. But experimenting with the various different pole techniques, I realised they were improving my running on the ups, the downs, and the flats.
From now on my poles became my constant companion, always in my hands.
Having arrived in Donnas, it was still a fair distance to the Life Base. The route in and out seems designed to show the town’s highlights - it’s certainly very beautiful but I didn’t get to Life Base until 3.30am.
There I met Tom, and James, who’d stayed on to help crew after making the tough decision to pull out.
First stop, shower. Boy did I need one, I smelt so bad I was upsetting myself. And when I managed to find a bed in a packed sleeping area, I slept better than at Cogne.
But that’s not saying much.
Stage 4: Donnas to Gressoney
54 km | 5,900m ascent | 19:45 hrs running | 4:15 hrs at Gressoney
There’s no attendant when I go to sleep so I ask Tom to wake me at 7am. He popped to the bakers and got me a pastry and coffee for breakfast - a welcome alternative to the usual offering at the Life Base.
The ascent out of Donnas, through terraces cut into the hillside was STEEP but it brought me to one of my favourite aid stations, Perloz. They were serving Italian donuts, fresh orange juice, and fresh coffee, a refreshing change given how bad the coffee was at most aid stations.
This is the second crux stage of the Tor (after Stage Two) and I’m ashamed to say I hadn’t given it enough thought.
Cue one of my toughest days.
It took way longer than some arbitrary expectation in my head. It was also hot (about 27 centigrade), so suddenly dehydration and sunburn became serious concerns.
I knew the mental side of finishing Tor was going to be at least as important as the physical side.
I’d gone to pieces on my unsuccessful Paddy Buckley attempt, so in preparation this was something I’d worked hard on, including completing Dr Justin Ross’s training course.
To me, the single biggest challenge was avoiding being overwhelmed by just how far there is still to go. I tried to stay in the present, and to focus on getting to the next aid station but my mind wandered to the future constantly.
The easiest way to shut it off was to listen to music and podcasts. By now I’d defaulted to music to pump me up on the uphills, and podcasts to calm me down and distract me on the downhills. At night, I felt more comfortable listening to the world around me.
Looking back, despite the difficult moments, I actually felt confident and positive throughout. I knew and accepted that many things beyond my control could still stop me, but I wasn’t going to give up.
It’s a feeling I recognised from my Bob Graham Round, and one I knew was absent from the Paddy.
After a monster climb to Rifugio Coda, the stage traverses along and over ridges before dropping down to Niel. The hut at Colle della Vecchia, despite its small size, served awesome polenta. At this stage you’re in amongst runners doing the 450 km Tor des Glaciers (!!) and it was really cool being able to chat with them.
Many of the aid stations ring cowbells as you arrive, and coming into Niel I was greeted by James and Tom on the bells. From Niel, it is up and over Col Lazoney to Gressoney.
Here James came into his own, giving me an estimated time to Gressoney based on runners just ahead. This really helped manage my expectations and control my wondering mind.
Honestly, I can’t remember what time he gave me but I’m glad to say I beat it. I got to Gressoney, and James and Tom were nowhere to be seen.
I had another shower and collapsed under a blanket on a crashmat beneath a bouldering wall (yes, such were the sleeping arrangements) and slept for two WHOLE hours.
Stage 5: Gressoney to Valtournenche
34 km | 3,100m ascent | 10:15 hrs running | 0:45 hrs at Valtournenche
The shortest stage and funnily enough, one where I don’t have much to say. The Champoluc aid station at the end of the village left me worried I’d missed it. That’s about all I can remember.
By this point, flavour fatigue had well and truly set in. I’d got tired of the (far too many) gels I’d brought, and was now eating food at aid stations plus the odd gel in between. But, with a few notable exceptions, the aid stations all had the same stuff, and I was really bored of that. (Long races like Tor could really do with varying the food at aid stations.)
I was happy eating tomato pasta (and polenta when I could) but beyond that I’d had enough. This is where having a crew came into its own. Tom and James were able to source the food I wanted. They got me sweets to replace gels, and the Pringles they’d found were AMAZING.
Life Bases and aid stations are split into green areas, where crew are allowed in, and red areas, for runners only (typically the food, sleeping and shower areas).
This is pretty rigorously enforced at Life Bases but seemed much more relaxed at other aid stations like Champoluc. They were comfortable with James and Tom getting me food and filling my bottles.
When I arrived at Valtournenche just before 6pm, Tom told me that it was going to be wet overnight and the temperature was going to drop with the rain was going to turn to snow.
As a result, they thought I should push on and sleep at Rifugio Lo Magià in the mountains. It wasn’t what I was hoping to hear, but you’ve got to trust your team.
It helped that my fear of night running had waned by this point and I was starting to enjoy the calm of the night. Plus the pizza and coffee Tom managed to get from the restaurant next door softened the blow.
Stage 6: Valtournenche to Ollomont
48 km | 4,600m ascent | 20:00 hrs running (inc 2 hrs sleep at Rifugio Lo Magià) | 1 hr at Ollomont
Fenetre Du Tsan is the high point of this section and coming down the switchbacks, I was surprised to see runners flying past me, seemingly not following the marked route. I thought the guys behind me must have really picked up the pace.
I then realised that they were the leaders of the 130 km Tot Dret.
By this time I was struggling with my stomach - I had cramp and felt sick. I tried various things including salt for the cramp, and ginger for the sickness. It was only later that I worked out that the cramp had nothing to do with my stomach. It had everything to do with the workout my core muscles were getting.
As I progressed, I was surprised and delighted by the way my body seemed to be holding up to Tor. I had no DOMS in my quads, and my glutes were fine. I was probably helped by how slow I was going, but it felt that my running and strength training paid off.
Apart from the cramp in my abs, the only odd feeling was a nervy sensation in my thumbs from holding poles for so long. I was definitely one of the lucky ones though, many others seemed held together by beautifully applied, colourful K-tape.
Physically I was in good shape. Overall I think I ran more than 50% of the race. I walked the uphills but ran the downs and flats. It was a shuffle, but it was definitely a run.
It was 1 am when I arrived at Rifugio Lo Magià, a solid two story building. They had lots of small bedrooms and I slept comfortably there with one other runner. I was so glad James told me to sleep there, the choices either side looked terrible - tiny noisy huts.
Received wisdom seems to be to sleep in refuges as they’re quieter than Life Bases, but choose wisely as some refuges are better than others. Get it wrong and you’re sleeping in a deckchair in the same room as everyone eating.
On the way down to Oyace, I messaged Tom asking for a proper coffee and the instant porridge I’d brought. Tom had run out of cash so paid for the coffee in small change, much to the amusement of the ladies serving.
I got to Ollomont at 2:30pm for a quick pit stop before heading off on the final stage. One hour and one pot noodle later I was on my way. It was going to be a cold night and snow was expected. As I checked out of Ollomont, the volunteer told me crampons (well microspikes) were mandatory, though no one checked I had them.
By Friday, runners weren’t allowed to leave Ollomont without showing they had crampons. This exposes one of the seeming oddities of the Tor kit list. There is a very small number of mandatory items (crampons not included), and a long list of recommended items (crampons included).
It seems odd that they mandate carrying a ‘recommended’ item, but I guess that’s a reason to make sure you have all the recommended stuff.
Stage 7: Ollomont to Courmayeur
49 km | 3,900m ascent | 15:30 hrs running
After the climb to the Col de Champillon, this stage has one of the longest flat sections (about 10 km) on a forest trail to Bosses.
Before you get to that flat section however, there was an aid station - Ponteille - housed in a farm building, described to me a serial killer’s hut. It’s an odd spot but, boy, their polenta and dry sausage ragu was good.
Tom and James were at Bosses. After a quick stop with them, I headed onwards, determined to push through to the finish.
But following the road up the valley, I suddenly felt awful. My heart was racing, my breathing was shallow and I felt like I might have a panic attack.
I tried to rationalise things - after all, I’d been drinking coffee to keep me awake, and the cold air probably didn’t help my breathing. BUT this did nothing to quieten my racing mind.
I was heading up into what I was told was -18 with windchill, and all I wanted to do was sleep by the side of the road. However you rationalise it, that’s not good!
I decided to have a rest when I got to the Rifugio Pier Giorgio Frassati which I could see far ahead in the dark.
Demoralisingly the perspective was completely misleading, and the refuge was a lot further away than it looked. After battling for 3½ hours in the cold and wind, I finally got there to find my only sleep option was to lie on a bench.
Tempting though that was (not), I decided to press on.
But all was not lost. At the refuge, I met Trung, who I'd run with earlier in the race, and we paired up. This completely changed my perspective.
Heading out into the snow became an exciting adventure. We made the final ascent to the Col Malatrà, the pass back to Courmayer, in microspikes. Bizarrely, there was a photographer on the Col, standing and taking pictures in the blizzard!
I was looking forward to getting out of the cold and wind at the Entre Deux Sauts aid station, but when I got there it was just a tent with the wind whipping through it. On we headed.
Discouragingly, there were still 14 km to go to Courmayeur. I could also detect a change in our collective mindsets as we crossed the Col, it had gone from a paired endeavour back to an individual race.
Perhaps it was my mind or the snow cover, but the route seemed less well marked than before. I was now 28 hours without sleep, and clearly starting to unravel.
After the first night without sleep, my perceptions had slightly altered. I wouldn’t call them hallucinations but I could see writing on every rock, and pictures in tree bark and other things.
By now I was in a full panic thinking I was running the wrong way, despite my watch showing I was very much on track. I had to fight quite hard not to ring someone at 4am to check.
After a while I started to recognise the path again, and began to truly believe I must be coming back into Courmayeur the way we had come out.
It was only later, when Tom told me I was on a completely different mountain, that I realised it was my mind playing tricks on me. Even now I’m looking for an explanation as to why I ‘recognised’ the path.
After what seemed like forever, I reached the outskirts of Courmayeur.
Fighting the frustration that I still had to run a couple of kilometres to the finish, I took the time to reflect on what I’d achieved over the past 5 days and that’s when the tears started to well in my eyes. I’d done it!
I crossed the finish ramp at 7:04am on Friday.
Yup, even after days of running in all manner of weather and with 24,000m of climbing, they make you run UP a ramp at the finish.
When all’s said and done…
My time of 117 hours is nothing special (my ITRA points confirm that) and my pacing wasn’t brilliant. I went from top 50 to 200th and finished 95th.
But that wasn’t what this was about…
Tor was about stunning scenery, wild mountains, savage climbs and descents, heat, cold, snow…
Everything I wanted it to be.
I achieved my objectives: (i) to finish and (ii) to finish in a Western States qualifying time. I couldn’t have asked for more.
Looking back at my takeaways from Sally’s Wild Horse 200 experience, what did my 200 miler teach me?
I’m pretty lucky with my feet. I was pretty sparing with taping and only got blisters at the end (when I decided to ignore some discomfort and push to the finish).
Huge thanks to Tom and James for crewing me! They gave me direction, kept me moving at Life Bases (which can be a time sink), helped me manage my expectation demons, and brought me food when I was tired of everything on offer.
The mental side was the real challenge and the mental preparation really helped.
I didn’t sleep every night and with the benefit of hindsight I should have slept a little less and pushed further before I slept the first time. That said, it’s a fine balance. Some runners were the walking dead as they’d slept so little.
I took far too many gels and not enough real food, particularly savoury food. I got away with it because of the my relatively slow speed but another time would have been caught out…
Which leads me to the title of this blog: ‘Standing on the shoulders of Geants’.
Sally and Tom’s experiences of running and coaching 200-milers made my own training and racing so much easier.
I was able to take (and benefit) from their knowledge of running 200 miles, and adjust that to work for me and meet the specifics of Tor.
There’s no need to do these things alone.
Truly great things happen when learning from others.