2024 Tor des Geants Race Report

Tor is an unimaginably difficult race. It has around 85,000 feet of vert packed into 215 miles. Some sections are so steep and technical that it is hard to believe they would put 1,100+ runners on it. It is also an unimaginably beautiful race. I have been fortunate to run in many places on this planet, and Tor is the most beautiful course by far.

In 2022, I was thrilled with the outcome at Tor, finishing in 104 hours, 67th place overall, and second American. But I also ran with a lot of fear and stress. I wouldn’t say I enjoyed much of it after the first 48 hours. A major goal this time around was to chill out, relax, and try to enjoy the ride. Everyone knows I’m a super laid back guy, so that would be no problem. A picture of zen. Ha!

OK, so I trained obsessively for the race. I set a goal of running 500K feet of vert between Jan 1 and the race. I hit 560K. The whole year was designed as a build to Tor. I did a course recce of stages 4 and 5, all in one push. My Tor spreadsheet was Michelangelo’s David of race preparation.

But I was committed to hanging my Type A personality on the shelf. Rather than fight the Tor dragon, I would try to ride the dragon, or at least hang out next to it. There is a French word: “doucement” – gently, calmly. I was going to run Tor “doucement” this time around. Of course I also had ambitious goals and desperately wanted to go under 100 hours, but maybe letting go a bit was the way to hit those goals.

*Up on the Skyway Monte Bianco hanging out with friend and fellow Uphill Athlete Coach Alexa*

*A bit of bonus pre-race altitude acclimatization*

*Enjoying the good weather before the sub-optimal race forecast*

*The calm before the storm in Courmayeur*

*Yo we got the bags and the bags and the bags and the bags.*

*How are there this many people running this crazy race?! These are the precious life base bags that they transport for you between the six life bases. I swear they were smaller this time ...*

*The USWE Pace 14 that I would run the whole race in. I had it perfectly dialed in for Tor.*

Section 1: Start to Valgrisenche – 31.5 miles with 12,500 feet of vert

I felt calm on race morning, so much calmer than last time. I didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. I lined up towards the front, and soon we were off with the Pirates of the Caribbean theme song blaring,

*The all important speedlace adjustment on the Speedcross*

Tor starts quite fast given the scale of the adventure, and I ran just under a 7min pace on the mile out of town. I was towards the front of the field and didn’t have any wait as we filtered onto single track to start the 4,500 foot climb.

I settled into a nice groove as it started raining. I had thought the forecast called for rain starting in the evening, but we’d be in a storm for the first 20 hours of the race.

I looked around and saw Jasmin Paris, Zach Violett, Claire Bannwarth, and Sabrina Verjee. Uh oh. That didn’t seem very “doucement”. I felt fantastic though, and my effort level was well in check. I could tell from the gun that I was fitter than I have ever been and that it was going to be a good day (or days, I suppose …).

I stuck with Jasmin and Zach on the descent, enjoying have some company. I hit La Thuile at 2h40min, some 15 minutes up on last time. This was the first place I’d meet Sam Cohen, my stellar crew for the entire race. I crewed him for his fantastic finish at UTMB the week before, and he generously stayed to flip the roles and babysit me for 4+ days around the Aosta Valley.

We had some crew meetup location confusion that took a few minutes to resolve. It was honestly for the best though. That broke the elastic with Jasmin and Zach and let me truly settle into my own rhythm and multi-day pace / effort.

It was pouring as we set up from La Thuile for the 5000+ foot climb. Along the way, I met Mike Groenewegen and Michael Manganello, two nice guys from the ol’ US of A. Last time at Tor I was alone almost the whole way with no one I could talk do during the race. It was nice to have a strong American contingent this time and more company on the trail.

I was pleasantly surprised as we climbed out of the cloud layer, which took us above the rain. I resupplied at Deffeyes, and we got into steeper and more technical terrain for the next 10 miles. I felt comfortable and relaxed. I had been training on this terrain all summer and felt at home. I resupplied again at Promoud, now up some 30min on projected splits.

The steep climb up Col Crosatie was no problem, and I hit the long, steep descent to Planaval. Last time, I was getting passed left and right on the descent, but I held my own this time. I arrived at Planaval now 45min up on splits. More importantly, I felt strong and in control.

*Coming down into Planaval before heading up the valley to Valgrisenche*

Sam was there to cheer. I mentioned that I was up on splits and hoped I wasn’t going too fast. Sam said, “It’s ok, you’re just fitter than you thought!” I had a smooth, easy run on the gradual four-mile climb to the first life base. It was a confusing scene with a separate place for crew, but soon Sam and I reunited to get ready for the first night.

I stuffed my face with pizza, avocado, and chips while Sam graciously refilled my pack with fluids and gels. I changed socks and cleaned my feet. We packed some warm and waterproof clothes given the forecast for the night.

*Putting on the warm socks for the night*

Then it was time to go, more than an hour ahead of my split from last time. So far so good.

Section 2: Valgrisenche to Cogne – 34 miles with 15,000 feet of vert

For over an hour it was still as light as I climbed, so I got to see some of this section in daylight for the first time. Mike M caught me, and we hung together for a while, working our way to Col Fenetre.

*The clouds obscured the glaciers, but it was beautiful nonetheless. Someday I have to come run this section in daytime.*

There was weather coming in, and I desperately hoped I could get through most of the upcoming descent before it hit. With about 2000 feet of descending in a mile across scree and rocks, it is challenging in the best of times.

We crested the Col, and it was still dry – success! I was happy with how I descended, continuing to feel comfortable on this wild terrain. Soon it started pouring again, and we were soaked coming into the aid station at Rhemes.

Neil joined the crewing party here. He is a friend and has also been my strength coach for the past 1.5 years. Right after finishing his own 70km race in the Swiss Alps, he headed over to crew through the first four stages of the race. I was thrilled to have him on board, and hopefully it would help make Sam’s life a little easier, as crewing Tor is just about as hard as running the thing.

We refilled supplies again, and I had the first backpacker meal. This was a new strategy from my previous Tor to get more variety of hot food, and it went down well. Then it was back in the cold, rainy night for Col Entrelor, our second big mountain of the night.

The top of this climb is very steep, and it got increasingly cold and miserable as we went up. My hands were soaked and frozen. The only answer was to push hard to the top to maintain some body heat and run back down to lower altitudes and warmer temperatures as fast as possible. My hands finally thawed a few miles down from the Col.

More than half the field dropped at Tor this year, and I’m sure the early storm didn’t help. I felt for the people who would be taking longer on this section and spending more time up high. I felt like the saving grace was that I could climb hard to generate heat and descend 3000 feet in 30 minutes. The prolonged exposure on this section must have been brutal for many of the runners.

This is a longer descent that feels like it drags on for a while. Mike M caught me again, and we rolled into Eaux Rousses together. My initial plan was to take a short nap here, but it was 1:40am instead of my planned 3:15am arrival, and I just felt too good.

So I fueled up with another backpacker meal while I warmed up and put on another layer. The next climb, Col Loson, is the high point of the race at almost 11000 feet and given the weather it promised to be a wild ride. With a 6,000 foot ascent and 6,000 foot descent, I knew it would be a while before I saw crew again. The climb was going well. I kept it steady, “doucement”, and under control. I kept telling myself that the race didn’t even start until Gressoney at mile 130.

The weather got increasingly nasty as we approached the Col. The 40%+ grade trail is always tough to climb, and this time it was covered in snow and ice. It was difficult just to move forwards and not slip back. Eventually I trudged over the col, frozen and exhausted. The beginning of the descent has some ledges with sheer drops to one side, so that plus the snow kept me focused as I moved carefully and deliberately.

The terrain let up, and I focused on warming back up and getting feeling into my hands. Last time sunrise came just before the col, but it was still pitch black. I wasn’t complaining. I arrived at Refugio Sella for a quick resupply and then kept working down to Cogne. The sun finally came up on this endless descent, and the glaciers came into view for the first time.

*You could see the fresh coat of snow up on the mountains*

I popped out of the woods for the last, gradual section into Cogne. It was only 7:40am, far faster than I expected to arrive. But I was feeling the worse for wear and hadn’t slept yet. I also had a new problem popping up. Prior to the race, I got a paper cut where your thumb meets your forefinger. It was right where the pole strap hit, and I predicted it would be trouble during the race. Sadly, my prediction was coming true, and it was becoming an open and angry wound.

*A gorgeous morning in Cogne after the storm*

Last time I rushed out of Cogne and crashed hard on the next section to Donnas. I vowed not to make that mistake again. First, I laid down for 25 minutes. I don’t think I slept at all, but it helped settle my stomach and reset the system. Neil taped up the cut on my finger, which would hopefully protect it enough. Then I set to work catching up on calories and fluids. For 45 minutes I slammed food, fluids, and electrolytes until I was feeling good again.

It worked, and I felt like a new man. I spent 1h20min in Cogne, but I firmly believe it was time well spent and would pay off on the next section. Doucement.

Section 3: Cogne to Donnas – 30 miles with 6,000 feet of vert

I took a ton of calories on board at Cogne, so I was planning to take it easier on the gradual part of the climb to let everything settle. I still made good time to Goilles and made sure to refill bottles here, which I had neglected to do last time.

Mike M and I worked together and soon linked up with Mike G. Mike Thewes was right around us also, so we worked together as the American quadfecta.

*On the climb out of Cogne. I was very pleased it had stopped raining.*

I felt great except for that pesky cut on my finger. I thought the tape might be making it worse and took it off, which opened the cut even more. Not good. We only had a bit more climbing left, so I planned to stow my poles at the Col all the way through the 18-mile descent down to Donnas. Hopefully giving it some air and taking the pressure off would help, and we could reassess down at Donnas.

*The top of the Col, looking back where we came from*

Starting the looooong descent to Donnas. Last time I thought the building in the distance was a race aid station, but I knew better this time. I was still able to fill up a bottle at the fountain though.

Last time I felt miserable on the whole descent and moved painfully slowly as I tried to recover from my bonk. I was so happy to feel strong this time around – it was night and day.

*I was actually enjoying the descent to Donnas. Go figure!*

I flew down the fire road (at least by Tor standards) and rolled into Dondena for a quick refuel. I made great time to Chardonney, and Neil hooked me up with tons of calories here. I had a backpacker meal, chips, avocado, and who knows what else. We also bumped into Amy Sproston here, who I had met years ago with Happy Trails when she was in the Virginia area. Amy was crewing Zach and Kaitlin, and she hooked us up with some butterfly bandages. Some great Tor magic. After the race, Amy referred to me as the “happiest and hungriest guy out there.” Hilarious and all too true.

*The descent frequently follows this river down to Donnas, and you cross it several times. They upgraded a few of the bridges since last time, so I was a bit less worried about going for a swim.*

The section to Pontbosset is always slower than you think it should be, with twists, turns, rocks, and roots. I was on schedule and did a quicker turnaround here with Neil. After Pontbosset you have a punchy climb through the woods that breaks up this long descent. I wanted to keep the pressure off the cut, so I kept the poles stowed, which made this section a bit slower and tougher.

We popped out onto the road for the last few miles winding through towns to the life base in Donnas. This is where you travel the famous Roman road that has stood for over 2000 years. I was so far up on my schedule and tried hard to chill out on this section. It was also hot down at 1000 feet above sea level, so keeping it easy was all for the best.

I came into Donnas at 5:45pm, over 4 hours faster than last time and 1h40min up on my target splits. Amazingly, I had run the last section 3h20min faster than last time. But there were no parades yet. You can’t make your race in Donnas, but you sure can break it.

I took my time to refuel at Donnas. Last time I slept here, but the plan this time was to push up the 7500 foot climb to Refugio Coda for my first real sleep. I needed to make sure I felt good and had what I needed.

It would also be around 14 hours before I would see crew again at Niel, so my pack was fully loaded and heavy. We taped up my finger, and I dearly hoped it would hold up, as I desperately needed poles on this next section.

After a bit less than 45 minutes here, it was time to go. I was off into night 2 and the hardest section of Tor.

Section 4: Donnas to Gressoney – 34 miles with 16,000+ feet of vert

I lovingly call this section “the thunderdome”. It is the steepest and most technical stretch of Tor, which is saying something. By itself, it would probably be the hardest 50K on earth, and you tackle it with 95 miles and 33,000 feet already in your legs.

I figured the 7500 climb to Coda would take around 5.5-6 hours and was worried about falling apart with lack of sleep. All I could do was keep moving and keep fueling well.

On the steep climb out of Donnas, I experimented with adjusting the grip on my left pole to not put pressure on the cut. I was happy with the result, and it seemed workable if not ideal.

Soon I was on the 1000 foot descent that breaks up this climb, losing all the elevation you gained coming out of Donnas. I filled bottles at Perloz and again at several of the fountains on the climb. I made great time to Sassa and was pumped with how well things were going. I was quite surprised to find myself cracking the top 25, but I also knew I was about to take a long sleep and needed to focus on managing this section well. Doucement.

I pushed up to Coda as it got increasingly cold and windy. I still had only a tee shirt on, but with the refugio close by, it seemed best to push through and then put on layers when I got inside. I had managed to split less than 5 hours from Donnas to Coda. While this section had gone well, I was beyond excited to get my first real sleep of the race.

I came in and immediately asked to sleep. They said no. Wait, what? There were only 2-3 of us in the refugio at this point given how spread out the field was, and there were tons of beds. I tried to understand why, and they said there was no sleeping at refugios. I asked if I could sleep at the next refugio, Barma, and they said no. I asked where I COULD sleep and was told Gressoney, which would be 12 hours away in the best of circumstances.

I didn’t really know what to do with this information. I ate some food, refilled bottles, and put on some warmer layers. I put my head down on the table. Was this included in the sleeping ban? Whether it was or not, I wasn’t falling asleep, and it was just wasting time. I trudged back out into the cold and wind, unsure what on earth I was going to do.

It was far too cold and windy up on the ridge to consider sleep, so I figured I would go down the insanely steep, technical descent and re-evaluate when back at lower altitude. I’ll admit my motivation was low at this point.

An Italian runner, Christian, came up behind me as I started the descent. I was not moving fast and stepped aside for him to go ahead. He stopped, point for me to lead, looked me in the eyes, and solemnly said, “Let’s Go.” It was an incredibly kind gesture and immediately snapped me out of my pity party.

I pushed on the descent, not wanting to slow down my new Italian friend. After the screaming steep descent bottomed out, I had to take a quick pit stop and let Christian go ahead. He kept waiting for me though and checking on me. He was shocked that Coda hadn’t let me sleep and knew I was in tough shape.

Tor is such a hard race that we all just try to survive the course and help each other rather than race each other. Many times I tried to help others where I could, but Christian truly went above and beyond. More Tor magic.

I started falling asleep on my feet, bobbing and weaving on the trail. I told Christian to go ahead and assured him that I was ok. I took a short trail nap, which was enough for me to push up the climb to Barma.

I rolled into the refugio at 2:20am and asked if I could sleep, holding my breath. They said of course, and I had a hard time not hugging them. I was ushered downstairs to a quiet, dark, warm room that seemed to be empty except for me. I asked to sleep for 1h10min, instantly fell asleep, and was gently awoken when it my time was up. It was probably the best sleep of my life.

*Commemorating the world's best refugio*

I put in my contacts and started in on some food before heading back into the night. Mika rolled in, and I talked up the insanely good sleep accommodations here. 5 stars, highly recommend. But it was time for me to get back to work. I set off for the series of jagged, rocky, and wildly steep ascents and descents. I rolled through Col Marmontona, Lago Chiaro, and Crenna di Ley. I arrived at Col della Vecchia as the sun was coming up, and I began the nasty descent to Niel.

I was pleasantly surprised with how good my legs felt, and the biggest problem was now my wrist / forearm. Changing my grip to take pressure off the cut on my thumb seemed to be causing severe tendon strain, and my wrist and forearm were rapidly swelling and becoming painful. The only option would be to not use poles, which seemed worse, so I just soldiered on.

*Sunrise on day 3. The only down side to being faster this year was moving through the most technical parts of the course in the dark.*

Unlike last time, I managed to stay upright. It was helpful knowing how hard this descent would be and the ravines and gullies we’d have to traverse to finally get to Niel. I arrived at Niel at 8:45am, 1h40min up on splits. I was stoked to see the crew again and pleased with how this section went, especially with the near-disaster at Coda.

The upcoming climb is brutal, and this is another aid station I rushed out of too fast last time. It had been 14 hours since seeing the crew, and I took my time fueling up here. It was time well spent, and I made up some good time on the climb. The long descent down to Gressoney also went very well.

*Actually feeling good here, unlike last time*

After what happened at Coda, I didn’t want to rely too much on refugios for sleep. My sleep at Barma wasn’t that long ago, but I figured it would be wise to take a short sleep at Gressoney. Then I would plan a long sleep at Valtournenche (life base 5) and whatever sleep I needed at Ollomont (the final life base).

I got to Gressoney 2 hours up on splits. More importantly, I felt I had taken great care of myself so far. The warm up was done, and the race was about to start. The 30 minute sleep was great, and I took a quick shower, my only one of the race. Neil found the most amazing polenta and gnocci, so I got some quality food here. We accomplished a lot in 1h10min, and it was go time.

*With my two best friends, polenta and gnocci. Thanks Neil for finding some 5-star Italian food!*

Section 5: Gressoney to Valtournenche – 20 miles with 10,000 feet of vert

I was running faster than expected on the gradual climb out of Gressoney. The views of the Monte Rosa massif were stellar, and I couldn’t believe how good I felt this late in the race. Tor is never easy though …

As we hit the steep part of the climb to Alpenzu, I noticed my wrist / forearm was getting worse, and it was impacting my climbing ability as it became increasingly swollen and painful. Again, there was nothing to do about it, but it was a bit of a bummer as steep climbing is my biggest strength.

Then at Alpenzu, I seemed to cause some confusion by asking for some Coke. While they tried to sort out my lavish request, I got stung by a bee on my arm. I am minorly allergic to bee stings, and it quickly started swelling. Again, there wasn’t a whole lot I could do.

I was losing power on the massive climb to Col Pinter. I felt dehydrated and behind on electrolytes. This was a bit surprising as I had managed hydration so well throughout the race and had fueled up well in Gressoney. Maybe the bee sting had some impact and diverted fluids away?

Last Tor it was fully dark on this section of the course. It was also dark when I ran it as part of my recon earlier in the summer. The views were epic, and I only wished I felt better to enjoy it more.

I finally hit the summit and sat down for a minute, feeling pretty terrible. On the bright side, there was the most killer vista spread out before us. You could see the Monte Rosa massif and the Matterhorn on one side and Monte Bianco, our ultimate destination, far in the distance on the other. Pretty cool.

*Looking out from Col Pinter. You could see Monte Bianco, our ultimate destination some 75+ trail miles away.*

I moved slower than I wanted to on the descent, but I needed to right the ship. I upped my hydration and pounded electrolyte pills. I was running dry on fluids and used a fountain to resupply partway down the descent. Knowing where there were natural water sources on course was another big change from 2022. While I didn’t need it a ton, it made a difference and helped manage some of the long sections.

*Approaching Champoluc with Cervinia and Monte Rosa in the distance.*

This was a stunning section of the course I had never seen in daylight, the perks of being ahead of schedule. I only wish I had felt better to enjoy it more. As I arrived in Champoluc to see Sam, I knew I needed to reset things before tackling the next monster climb.

I wanted to eat and hydrate, but my stomach wasn’t having it. I wasn’t sleepy but decided to lay down on a cot for a few minutes to see if it would settle my stomach and let me get some calories in. I forced down some pad thai and slammed fluids and electrolyte pills. I wouldn’t say I felt great, but at this stage in Tor that wasn’t going to happen. I felt good enough, and it was time to go.

I power hiked the flat section, letting the calories settle and continuing to take in more nutrition. I felt decent again and started pushing on the climb up Col di Nana. The sunlight was fading on day three, and it was a beautiful view of Monta Rosa as dusk settled.

I powered into Refugio Gran Tournelin and stocked up on some food. Last time I took a short nap here, but I felt good and pushed on up the climb. The cowbell grandmasters were back, ushering me into the night with over a dozen giant cowbells swinging from two poles. We crested Col di Nana, and I was feeling sleepy again. I opted for a short dirt nap at the saddle between Col di Nana and Col des Fontaines. It did the trick, and I made good time on the huge descent to Valtournenche.

I lost time on the last section, but I was managing as best I could. I knew how tough the upcoming section was and wasn’t sure if I’d be able to sleep at the refugios, so I opted for a 1h45min nap.

A volunteer was fired up about something and kept yelling at me in Italian. I tried to tell her I didn’t speak Italian. I tried my French but didn’t know if it got through. I felt a bit stressed as she ushered me to the sleeping area. It was a massive climbing gym, but the few of us there were all placed in a bunch towards the noisier, brighter front of the gym. I struggled to sleep. After finally dozing off, they woke me, and I asked for 10 more minutes.

I’m not trying to complain about volunteers and deeply appreciate each and every Voluntor. They are part of what makes this race so special. Ultimately it is all on me, and the bottom line is I screwed up this life base. I suppose the reflection is that we are all in such a fragile state at this point, and the smallest things can throw us sideways, be it a paper cut or an overly enthusiastic volunteer. I felt very much not rested as I trudged out to Sam, and I set to work eating as much as I could.

I said to him that leaving this life base is very hard. It was the tail end of three nights without much sleep, and I still had far to go. These are the points where you reach deep into your soul to find your courage and inner fire. I forced a smile onto my face and pushed out into the night.

Section 6: Valtournenche to Ollomont – 30 miles with 15,000 feet of vert

Despite my long stop at Valtournenche, I felt terrible. It took too long to get to Barmasse, and I made the executive decision to see if I could sleep there. I had a quiet, dark room to myself and slept like a baby for 30 minutes. That did wonders to refresh me, and it was game on again.

It was longer than I remember to Vareton. Because I was faster than last time, I was surrounded by Tot Dret 130km runners still at this point. In fact, I’d run with them all the way to the finish, which helped provide some distraction and encouragement.

Mika and I teamed up from Vareton to Magia, and it was great to have some company out there as dawn of day four broke. I refueled at Magia, which was crowded with 130km runners. I pushed up the very steep climb to Cuney and then worked my way towards the remote bivouac at Clermont.

*Looking back as Mika and I approached the Col before Magia*

This was another section that was longer than I remembered, with more up and down than expected. Stage 6 of Tor is just so tough. It is a difficult 50k stretch on its own right, and it comes so deep into the race. Everything felt slow and like it took a lot out of me. I was hungry and running low on supplies. I had a monster descent down to Oyace and very much looked forward to seeing Sam again.

*Looking back at the small Clermont bivouac*

This is where the race unraveled last time with my calf strain, but I stayed strong this time. The descent still seemed endless, but I made much better time into Oyace. I ate as much as I could here, but nothing at the aid station was appetizing, and the stores in town had all been closed.

*Descending towards Oyace. With two functioning legs this time!*

*Getting to Oyace in one piece felt like a victory*

Last time a landslide had caused a re-route that kept us lower in the valley, but this time we had the full, big climb up to Col Brison. It was hot and exposed, and I felt weak. Partway through the climb, I sat on a rock to get some calories in. I was glad to get to the remote aid station at Bruson Arp, but seeing the wall of ascent we had up to the Col was deflating.

Ollomont was a sheer, 4000 foot vertical drop below us. I shuffled down as best I could. We hit an aid station on the descent, but I blew past it, knowing that I really just needed to get to Ollomont. I was struggling as much as I ever have, and the only way I can describe it is that I was losing touch with reality. I could feel my mind and body going.

I called Jen, partially for some support and partially to have her relay to Sam that I needed big sleep and big food at Ollomont. I called Jen many times throughout the race. She was so supportive, always knowing just what to say. It made a huge difference and helped me keep things together.

I arrived with just under 19 hours left to hit sub 100. That was not a huge amount of time, so there was a temptation to push forward and not waste time. This is where experience kicked in though. I was so compromised that I felt certain I would blow up on the last section if I tried to push ahead. But if I took the time to regroup, I knew I could run a good last section, make up that time, and finish in under 100 hours.

I told Sam I was going to sleep 2.5 hours and then eat everything in sight before heading out. I referred to it as the “Christophe Maneuver” and the reset in Oyace that saved my 2022 race. I slept well for 2.5 hours and set to work eating ice cream, pizza, chips, and a protein shake. I went from not quite knowing where I was or what I was doing to being ready to charge hard. The Christophe had worked.

Section 7: Ollomont to Finish – 31 miles with 12,500 feet of vert

I charged hard up the climb to Champillon and managed to miss a turn but was quickly redirected by my Tot 130 friends.

I joined up with Kevin, a 130km runner from New York, and it was amazing to have some English speaking company. It started to get cold and wet as I approached Refugio Champillon. I came in for a quick refuel, and there were dozens of runners scattered everywhere under thick blankets. I wanted no part of that – I had sub 100 to chase.

I pushed up to Col Champillon, where the course markers welcomed us with hundreds of reflective flags forming a long tunnel. I started the interminable descent that would take me first to Ponteille Desot and eventually to Bosses. This section has the most runnable terrain of Tor, which is just hilarious when you have 195 miles and 80,000 feet of vert in your legs.

I was beyond tired of gels at this point and was rapidly approaching 100 of them consumed throughout the race. I had to keep eating though and forced down the calories. I finally arrived at Ponteille Desot. There were no 330km runners around me, and I had cleared ahead of a group in the 130km field when I blasted through Champillon, so I found myself alone here. There was a gentleman playing the accordion beautifully in the back of the tent at 2 in the morning. He looked at me and asked if I was in the 330km race. I said yes, and he said “very good” and continued jamming out.

I tried to run as much as possible of this horrible next section. Who would have the nerve to put all of these runnable miles at the end of Tor? I hit a great split to Bosses and rolled up at 3:45am. I wouldn’t see crew again for the long 18 miles to the finish, so I ate what I could while Sam filled my pack to the gills with gels. I was feeling sleepy again and took a brief table nap before setting out.

You could tell that bad weather was blowing it. It was cold and rainy down at low altitude, and we had more than 5000 feet to ascend. Soon I stopped to fish out every layer I could find in my pack. I hoped to find my pants in there, but no dice. It would have to be enough.

A 130km runner seemed to have lost one of his gloves. After much cursing in Italian, he continued on. A little while later, as I was falling asleep on my feet, he offered me caffeinated gels. It was very kind, but I was carrying all the gels I could stomach.

Daylight could not come fast enough. I couldn’t stay awake and knew that the higher up I went, the colder it would get, making any rest impossible. I tried taking a trail nap and was unsuccessful. I was yelling at myself and doing anything I could to stay awake. Why wasn’t it light yet?! I came to a sheltered embankment and miraculously think I managed to sleep for a few minutes.

I pushed up to refugio Frassati. It was getting cold, well below freezing, and I didn’t have enough layers. The only thing I could do was climb hard to stay warm, keep moving, and get the refugio. As dawn broke, we could see the mountains were covered in snow and ice. It was beautiful but also imposing, as I’d have to go up into this icy landscape to get over Col Malatra.

*Approaching refugio Frassati and nervously looking at the snowy, icy mountains I would have to climb*

I stopped at Frassati to regroup, eat some food, and warm up. I was anxious to get this thing done. As I left the refugio, they asked if I had pants with me. I said no, and they said it was very cold on the next section. I shrugged and went back out.

It was so cold as we climbed up. Finally, I got to the infamous Col Malatra. The insanely steep climb to the notch was extremely hard for me. I struggled to use my left hand to hold onto the cables with my swollen arm, and the snow and ice made the going much more treacherous.

I got to the top and stared down 35%+ grade of an icy slip and slide. The mountain guide asked if I had crampons. I said no, and he replied, “good luck.” Sigh. I know that I am ultimately responsible, but this storm had already rolled through back when I was in the valley at Bosses. It sure would have been nice if they told me to bring some extra gear.

I crab-walked, butt slid, and hunched over my poles to pick my way down, and I breathed a sigh of relief when I got through the worst of it. My legs and body had held up remarkably well for remarkably long, but I felt well and truly cooked with 12 miles to go. I desperately wanted to be done. On the bright side, things were looking promising for the sub-100 hours barring major disaster.

*It was beautiful out there, but I just wanted to be done*

I kept forcing calories down and pushed as best as I could. Finally we turned onto the TMB route and came across loads of hikers. This is always a strange moment in Tor as you return from the wilds back to civilization. Many wished me good luck, not knowing I was at the end of my journey and probably wondering how I could be moving so slowly in a race. Some who knew what Tor was would say “gigante!” and cheer like crazy.

Despite being so close, I couldn’t believe how far I still had to go. I dreamed of food and sleep. Or maybe sleep and food. I had poured everything out and pushed myself to the limit. I suppose it is satisfying to know you gave it your all.

I gingerly hobbled down the steep 2700 feet of remaining descent that stood between me and the finish line. A French 130km runner came up behind me, and we chatted for a bit in French. After a while I thought he was another hiker cheering me on, and I started talking about how crazy Col Malatra was. He said he knew, as he was there. With me. Dear lord I needed sleep. I was losing touch with reality again.

We popped out on the road for the final bit. Sam let me know that no other Tor des Geants runners were close either in front or behind. That was a relief, and I was in no rush. I walked it in, soaking in the experience.

They made the finish line ramp even steeper this year, and I barely made it up. I crossed the finish line at 12:18pm and pumped my arms in the air. I had done it, finishing in 98h18min and 28th place overall out of 1100+ starters. This year 3 Americans went sub-100, bringing the all-time total to 12, three of which are Barkley finishers.

*Signing this poster seems so difficult at this point*

*I had the best crew out there with Sam and Neil!*

It was a dream come true, and I couldn’t be happier. I was also completely shattered and poured everything out to make it happen. Despite that, I managed to enjoy much more of the race this time around around. No matter how hard it got, I stayed calm and focused. I joked with the crew and kept a smile on my face. The thought of quitting never even entered my mind. Staying relaxed and running “doucement” led to a faster, better race.

People run Tor without a crew, but I don’t know how. I am deeply grateful for Sam and Neil for everything they did to take care of me. Crewing the hungriest guy out there is hard work! Their positive energy also made Tor so much more enjoyable and memorable. If you want to go far, go together.

*Meeting up the next day with my friend, Giorgio, a 3x Tor finisher. He is a big part of my inspiration for the race and having the courage to take it on.*

I have also worked with Neil as a strength coach for 1.5 years, and it made a massive difference. After the calf strain during the 2022 Tor, I knew I had to make myself more bulletproof. I was amazed with how well my body held up this time and how late into the race I was still running. Food and sleep were the only limiting factors.

I have worked with Coach Damian Hall for 4.5 years now. With his expert guidance, I was fitter than I ever have been going into Tor. Thanks, Damian!

I had so many people cheering for me out there, and it meant the world. And of course a massive thank you to my wife and kids for all of their support. I missed them while I was rambling around the Alps and was so excited to get back home.

Thanks to everyone for following along. If you are interested in Tor, please do reach out if there is anything I can do to help you on your journey.