Tor des Geants Race Report - Part 4 (and final)

Valtournenche to Ollomont:

The race was starting to seem impossible. I had reached the point where the only question was how badly you wanted it. On the way up the climb out of town, I gave Jen a call. She had landed on her flight over to Geneva and was en route to see me and join Christophe in crewing. This was a huge boost, and I couldn’t wait to see her in 22 miles.

Then I saw Stephanie Case of Tor des Geants / Glaciers fame running this section backwards and supporting runners. I chatted with her as she joined me for a bit of the climb, telling her she was a big part of my inspiration to do this race. She asked if I was cursing her name yet, and I laughed and said “maybe”.

Ascending out of Valtournenche after the storm

We arrived at Rifugio Barmasse, and I continued pushing up into another rugged and remote section. I made decent time to Rifugio Vareton and stopped there for a bit longer to eat. A young volunteer spoke English, and he was just so nice and encouraging. He asked where I was from and told me I was doing great. The Tor volunteers truly are second to none.

I was in a good state as I climbed up Col something-or-other and then started the long descent down to Rifugio Magia. I bumped into a Belgian runner here and stuck with him for a while. He was a really nice guy with impeccable English, and we talked about UTMB, how crazy this race was, how excited I was to see my wife soon (his wife was crewing him), and the incoming rainstorm.

He took a longer stop at Magia, and I soldiered on for the ridiculously steep climb up to Rifugio Cuney. I decided to stop at Cuney for a short rest after a long stretch since Valtournenche. I took a 15-minute nap and then polished off the pizza I had brought with me from Valtournenche. When I got up from the cot, I noticed a tweak in my right calf but didn’t think too much of it at the time. Various aches and pains had popped up throughout the race, only to either work themselves out or be silenced as the body shut off pain receptors.

I traversed the long high-altitude section towards Clermont, with stunning views along the way. My calf kept acting up and seemed to be getting worse, so I stopped several times to stretch it. After a brief refuel at Clermont and a short final climb up the col, we had a monster 5,000+ descent down to Oyace. This was all that stood in front of me and seeing Jen for the first time in over a week!

The beginning of the descent was steep, but fine. I started to feel out of it towards the bottom of the steep section, and I sat down to get in some calories. My energy levels perked up, but my calf was getting worse and worse. As the trail got more gradual, it kept tightening up, and I was forced to a walk. A brisk walk become a slow walk. It was increasingly painful, and it was spreading up to my hamstring. Now I was hobbling with several miles left to Oyace. I looked bad enough that Tot 130 runners started checking on me to make sure I was ok.

This was bad. I could hardly move my right leg and limped along with my left leg and poles. The pain kept ratcheting up, and I slowed from 40min miles to 50min miles to slower than an hour per mile, all on very gradual terrain. I called Jen and told her I wasn’t in danger, but I had a serious problem with my leg and would be arriving later than expected. Then I called my Dad for some emotional support.

The dragon had arrived. I had over 40 miles until the finish, with some high consequence terrain remaining. My leg wasn’t functioning, and I couldn’t possibly see how I would manage the rest of the race. How could this be happening? I worked so long and hard for this, but it seemed hopeless. I said I wanted to drop, and Christophe quietly, politely, but firmly refused. And deep down I knew even as I said it that I wasn’t ready to give up. Soon they joined me on the trail for the last stretch into town, and I felt a strange mix of emotions. While I was so happy to see Jen, I was also bitterly disappointed in the state I was in.

They were nothing but positive though and told me how great I looked. Rule # 1 of ultras, no matter how bad someone looks, tell them they look great! Other people we saw didn’t get this memo. I had multiple people rushing to check on me. One told me I looked “just so bad.” Christophe shushed them away, speaking rapidly in French. We passed a small store and discussed whether we should pick anything up before it closed. I somehow had the presence of mind to request ice cream. Jen went to grab that and quickly caught back up to us at my turtle shuffle.

The plan was to see the medic at Oyace and then assess. They scanned my bib, and I went straight to the medic area. The nurse who was volunteering could give me some painkillers and tape it up before I left as best as she could. Other than that, I’d have to get to the next life base, Ollomont, where there was a full medic team.

While she was checking me out, I started in on the ice cream. She was displeased and said I needed hot food, but wow did that ice cream taste good. Jen and Christophe got me over to a cot, and I eased myself down for some sleep. I didn’t bother setting an alarm. I figured when I woke up my calf would only be worse, and I likely wouldn’t be able to continue, but that was a problem for later.

Staring at my new best friend while on the medic cot at Oyace

I was rapidly getting cold and somehow two other runners had managed to take every blanket there. Christophe kindly gave me his sleeping bag and pillow, solidifying his lead in the Tor crew competition, and I was out immediately. I came to and gently moved my leg around. It was …. not terrible. I asked how long I had slept, assuming it had been a very long time. Jen said it had barely been an hour.

Maybe I could actually do this. The only way out is through, Will. I figured more sleep would help my calf heal and asked Jen to gently massage it while I slept more. Jen went to work on my calf, and I passed out again. Thank you, Jen, and I’m so very sorry for how smelly I was.

About an hour later I woke up to go to the bathroom, and I decided to sleep 30 more minutes before heading out. In retrospect I probably should have just stayed awake, but I was honestly afraid of going back out into the mountains after how my leg felt before. I got up for good and had tons of food while using the stick roller and theragun on my calf. We woke up the poor nurse, and she taped up my calf. Now it was up to me, and I headed nervously into the dark night, hopeful that my calf would hold together

Back from the dead and out into the night. A million thank yous, Christophe.

The next section had a reroute due to landslides and was tame by Tor standards, staying in the forest with run-of-the-mill steep trails. As we descended towards Ollomont, the last life base, I was actually running. Not fast, but I was running. I had actually made good time on the last 7 miles all considering, and apparently Jen and Christophe barely had time to wake from their brief sleep.

Coming into Ollomont

Despite the long stop not long ago in Oyace, I decided to take my time here as well. This was the last life base and last opportunity to see the medics until the finish. It was more important to keep my calf functioning than try to shave an hour of time. And since it was only 3:30am, it made sense to stop for a bit and then try to do a big push the next day to the finish.

I started with an hour nap, which was not very restful. I went to the medic tent, and they were all occupied with other beleaguered souls. I was getting anxious to get this thing going, so I grabbed some pizza and a protein shake to at least eat while I was waiting. I spotted a beer nearby, which seemed like a fine idea at this point, and I drank half of it.

When it was my turn, the medics did some deep tissue work on my calf. They were apparently very worried by the veins on the back of my left, non-injured leg. Jen assured them they were totally normal. Well, they may not be normal, but they at least weren’t caused by Tor. They re-taped my calf and sent me off. Before leaving, I went over to the food tent to fuel up more. They had the most amazing roasted potatoes. Where were these in the previous 188 miles?

Christophe told me I could get to the finish in 13 hours. I didn’t know if my calf would hold, but I sincerely hoped to finish in daylight or at least close to it, as I really didn’t know if I could take another night out there. At 6am, it was go-time. The final section of Tor des Geants. Here we go …

Ollomont out!

Ollomont to Courmayeur:

The course was simple on paper from here with two huge ascents and descents. 32 miles and 12,500 feet of climbing. I could do this.

We started up the massive 5,500-foot climb. I passed 5-6 runners and was back in business. We crested tree line as dawn broke on day five, and it was an incredible sight. The sky was on fire with red and orange hues as we arrived at Rifugio Champillon. I stayed to eat and drink a bit and pushed on to the rest of the climb. My calf was a bit twingy as I ascended the steepest section towards the Col, so I backed off the pace a touch. The views were legendary as we hit Col Champillon, and I started the steep descent on the other side.

Rifugio Champillon. In my original race plan I was going to sleep here, but it was go-time now.

I was moving ok, but my calf was tight on the downhills, so I had to be careful. There was a long, steep, narrow, technical section before we finally spilled out on a dirt road that took us to Ponteille Desot aid. I spotted a runner going what looked to be the wrong way. After double checking the markings, I called him back and luckily he heard me. At Ponteille Desot I went through the usual routine, refilling my bottle with Coke, having some soup with pasta, eating what looked good, and stuffing more food in my pack for the road (mostly chocolate and dried apricots).

The other side of Col Champillon and our descent to Ponteille Desot

This was a nice stretch of trail - I’d love to do it on fresh legs someday

After a short uphill, we had a long, runnable dirt road for 6-7 miles down to the little town of Saint Rhemy en Bosses. A runnable section might sound nice after the crazy Tor terrain, but trying to run at mile 196 was a daunting task. Christophe told me back at Ollomont to “shut off my brain and just run” on this section, which is what I tried to do. I managed to even hit a few 13-minute miles, which would be slow for me on any other day but felt like light speed now.

Jen and Christophe having some much-deserved treats while waiting for me at Bosses

We could see the town of Bosses from miles away. It felt like forever to get there, and I just really wanted to see Jen and Christophe. I also called on the way asking if they could possibly find some ice cream in the little town.

Coming into Bosses ahead of schedule

I arrived around 10:45am, ahead of the aggressive target of 11am that I set for myself back in Ollomont. I took some time here as I still had 18 miles to go, this was the last time I’d see Jen and Christophe, and there was only one major aid station between here and the finish. The ice cream was AMAZING. I bossed an entire avocado, ate a bunch of chips, and got some pasta from the aid station.

Eating pasta and avocados like it’s my job

I actually look human here! Jen, of course, looks great.

It was go-time. I started talking to Jen and Christophe about what I’d need when I saw them at the next crew point. “Will, next time we see you is Courmayeur. The finish.” This race actually ends at some point? For a while now I’d had to switch off part of my brain, focusing solely on moving and eating. This was my life now, and it was hard to even register that I could just stop in Courmayeur.

Bosses out!

I power hiked out of town towards the final climb to Col Malatra, the famous top of the last climb on the Tor course. I felt like I should probably run the road, but it would probably be as slow as power hiking and just risk my calf, so I hiked on. Jen and Christophe surprised me with another visit at the top of the road before the trail started. They were just the best, and it warmed my heart and soul every time I saw them.

We got to the steep part of the climb, and I was moving pretty well all-considering. Suddenly two guys were running down shirtless in the opposite direction. They cheered me on, and I caught the British accents, saying hi to them. “Is that William? Man, you look FANTASTIC! We can’t believe how good you look after we saw you at Oyace. Keep it up man!” It felt good to hear and brought a smile to my face.

Somewhere along the way, the tone also shifted from those out supporting the runners. A few people started congratulating me in Italian. For the first time, I started to believe that I just might do this. Emotions welled up, but I shoved them down and focused on eating, drinking, and keeping my calf together. There was plenty of time still for disaster.

I made tracks up to Rifugio Frassati at 8,300 feet. I found a song that was speaking to me, so I played it on loop and zoned out as I power hiked up. I was going to DO this thing. I remembered Christophe saying there wouldn’t be much aid after Frassati, so I stopped here to refill bottles and eat a banana, soup, and chocolate.

I went back out and passed a runner for the first time in a while. Temperatures had dropped close to freezing and it started raining, so I threw on my rain jacket and pushed onwards to Malatra. The top of the climb is extremely steep and technical with fixed ropes, and you pass through a tiny notch in the Col, which gives you a window to Monte Bianco for the first time since the start of the race.

You can see the trail up to Col Malatra and just barely make out the very steep final approach to the notch

On the final and trickiest part of ascending Malatra, there were some mountain bikers hiking up their bikes. Even in my fragile state, that seemed very hard and very crazy. I crested Malatra and pumped my arms in the air for the photographer. Fortunately, the other side was a bit less steep and technical, and I started to make my way down. There was a huge cloud sitting right above the mountain, blocking the famous view of Monte Bianco, but it still looked very cool and wild up here.

After cresting Malatra and seeing the cloud hanging over the mountain

Looking back at the descent from the Malatra notch. You can just make out the people carrying their mountain bikes over.

This same cloud layer would stay on top of Malatra and some 30-36 hours later dump huge amounts of snow on the course. About 200 runners were held at Frassati, and the race was officially cancelled. Mountain guides came to escort small groups down safely for transportation back to Courmayeur. Fortunately, all runners were safe, and everyone who got to Bosses before the cutoff was an official race finisher.

Soon the mountain bikers caught me, and I had a nice chat with them. They were from Austria and were super kind and supportive. They offered me a Clif Bar, which I didn’t take. But it did remind me that I had a Clif bar in my pack, which made me outrageously happy.

Did I somehow end up in the Lord of the Rings?

We descended to the bottom right and climbed back up to the notch in the middle

After descending for a while, we had a short uphill to the Entre Deux Sauts bivouac point, which honestly was a nice break from the painful downhill. I grabbed a little cake thing here and bumped into my British friends, James and Pat. It was great seeing them again, and we exchanged some words on the crazy journey to get here.

I probably should have just stayed with them to the finish, but I desperately just wanted to be done, so I pushed off downhill, running as best as I could on trashed legs. My calf started to tighten up again here with around 9 miles still to go. I was close enough that I thought I could make it to the end, but this race was going to make me work until the very last mile.

We turned left on the UTMB course and the traverse between Rifugios Bertone and Bonatti. The trail here was like butter after what we’d been on, and I “sped up” as best I could. The miles ticked by slowly as I dreamed of the finish line. Then in the distance I saw someone running towards me, and it was … Christophe! He came to join me for the final 5k to the finish and man was I happy to have some company.

Ahh, finally on the UTMB trail to Bertone

Christophe appears like magic!

I grabbed just a bit of food at the final bivouac point, Mont de la Saxe. We had 2 steep miles down from Bertone and then an easy mile into town. The steep trail was slow going. My calf had really tightened by now, and it was painful going down the 25-30% grade. I told Christophe I was pretty sure I climbed this faster during UTMB than I would be descending it now.

We shared some stories on the way down and talked about the nightmare at Oyace that we’d both never forget. I told Christophe how thankful I was for him and what a great gift he had given me. I don’t know if I will ever be able to return the gift, but I really hope I can. Maybe someday I will get to crew him at Tor or another race.

Mercifully, we popped out of the trail onto the road into town. The runner I had passed around Frassati came up behind us with serious running legs, and I was happy to let him go and congratulated him. I turned onto the main road into town for the last homestretch, and emotions started hitting me hard. It was around 6:35pm (daylight, hooray!) with lots of people out in town cheering. I thought back to the 12 years I had dreamed of this race and all the years I trained for it. I couldn’t believe I was finally about to finish the Tor.

I hit the finish chute and climbed up the ramp to the finish line. Why do they put an uphill ramp at the end of this race? I couldn’t tell you. I pumped my arms in the air and went to give Jen a VERY emotional hug. They ushered me over to sign the official Tor finisher poster, which was more than my non-functioning brain could handle. I sat down with Christophe and grabbed a hard-earned beer. I had done it in 104 hours and 40 minutes, good for 67th place and 2nd American out of 1,100 starters. Here is my Strava file courtesy of the amazing Coros Vertix 2 watch.

What am I supposed to do? What’s happening?

Christophe is still doing something helpful even now that the race is done

James and Pat finished soon after me, and I went to congratulate them. Then I spotted my coach, Damian Hall! I gave him a sweaty hug, and we shared some war stories. He also ran this year, finishing in an amazing 14th place despite taking a detour and climbing an extra mountain. I grabbed a second beer, soaking up the finish line glow. Several people came up and said how surprised and happy they were to see me at the finish after Oyace. I guess I made quite the impression there.

Tor was everything I had hoped for and more. Even with all of my research and preparation, it was harder than I expected. Despite having 45+ hours until the race cutoff, I still feel like I found my limits and narrowly made it through, thanks only to everyone who supported me.

On that note, I want to close this way-too-long race report with deep gratitude. First of all, I can never thank Christophe enough. He took a week away from his family and work to tirelessly support me throughout the Val d’Aosta. Horrifyingly, he somehow slept even less than I did. His calm, steady force got me through the dark despair of Oyace, and I think I would have DNFed there if not for him. I have so much gratitude for Jen, who supported this dream for the many years in the making and supported me during the race. This was not easy on our family, and I’m deeply appreciative.

The thousands of volunteers were just incredible and make this race so special. I tried to thank them all while out on the course and for those I missed – “grazie mille!” Special thanks to Jen’s parents and my parents, who watched our boys while we were both gone. I hope they got plenty of sleep to recover from our dynamic, energetic duo.

Thanks to my friends and training partners, including Jana, Alex, Pat, and Justin. Their support before and during the race meant a lot, and this crazy sport is much more fun when you share the miles with good friends. To the many people who sent me encouraging messages, thank you so much.

Thanks to Long Haul Sport Nutrition for the best liquid fuel out there and providing me with at least 5,000 easy-on-the-gut calories over the course of Tor. Thanks to DPT Tammy at Bull Dawg Athletic Therapy for keeping me healthy over the years, improving how my body functions, and making me more resilient. Thanks to Coach Damian Hall, who I’ve now worked with for over 2.5 years. I am fitter and stronger than ever, and I enjoy my training more than ever.

Finally, if anyone is running Tor or even considering it for future years, don’t hesitate to reach out. I’d love to chat about it and help you on your journey in any way I can. And I can assure you it is a worthwhile dream and goal.