I have threatened to write a new blog post now for the longest time. Three years in fact. Maybe four. I last threatened to do so when going to Everest Base Camp last year, but even that didn’t apparently inspire me enough, although I did have a dabble at one. Blogging takes time, quite a lot of it in fact, brain apace, sometimes research, and it also takes motivation in spades. Without these coinciding, it’ll never make (my) airwaves.

I used to really love doing my blog posts too. I’ve done (I counted them as I’m a bit sad like that) around 300 of them over the years and got a lot of views and some great feedback. I don’t do it for the likes though, it is just really a personal diary. It’s for me, and I look back from time to time at the really memorable ones. Like when I flew back from Bolivia over the Rio Grande and marvelled at the wonder of it all. I still marvel a lot, in fact.

And so now, here I am, writing a new blog post, and so you might be curious as to why? Well the answer lies in a few factors which I will set out below, but the main protagonist here is clear and simple. UTMB. Yes, you heard that right. 

For those who don’t know, UTMB stands for the Ultra Trail du Mont Blanc. The world’s (probably) most famous and prestigious trail run. It is a circumnavigation of Western Europe’s highest mountain, going through France, Italy and Switzerland, is about 178km long, and covers about 34,000 feet of climbing. Not for the faint hearted you might say, and before anyone (and especially those who know me) tell me I have finally gone completely and utterly gaga, I’m not even dreaming about it (actually that’s not true, I won’t ever NOT dream about it). I am however seriously, after some hard soul searching, setting my sights on the mini version thereof, called OCC, part of the UTMB finals, and over what is basically 1/3 of the (final section) UTMB course. Yes indeed. 

So onto the why then. Well, there are a lot of reasons, but the main one is that for the last few years, and particularly since I moved to the Lake District, the whole trail running world has totally captivated me. And although I’ve never been a fell/trail runner, and am particularly indisposed to it in fact, I love it. With a passion. Last year I watched live on some dodgy YouTube feed almost every single minute of Killian Journet’s record breaking win of UTMB in 19 hours and 49 minutes. It was breathtaking. I was punching the air with delight, hardly breathing at times.

Beating the 20 hour mark had stood as a target that many thought would never be beaten. It was the pinnacle of human endeavour, and I totally idolise Killian Journet, so even more fitting that it should be him who broke the record. It was one of those things like the two hour marathon or the four minute mile that people thought couldn’t be beaten. It’s his fourth UTMB win, and of course his Eiger and Everest and other mountain feats are stuff of legends too. He is a god to me, pure and simple. I watched this years too of course. Fervently. I was delighted for Jim Walmsley who having given up the last two years of his life to live in Chamonix, has become the first American to win the race. He’s conquered everything else, and deserves his success, even though Killian wasn’t there this year, injured.

If I actually trace the inception of my love for all things UTMB back, the seed itself for this was actually sown four years ago. I was in Chamonix for a week training for the New York Marathon, with my then other half, and now good friend, Mel. In the middle of the week, on a non running day, we walked the stunningly beautiful Balcon du Sud from just north of Argentière, up to Flégère, and down into Chamonix. On our way down, we passed some trail runners and I remember saying at the time words to the effect of “I’d give my left arm to do that”.

What I didn’t know at the time, was that section is part of the UTMB itself, the final 7km of every trail runner’s dream. The part where since I have watched Killian Journet, and Jim Walmsley, and Courtney Dauwalter, and Katie Schide, run to glory, with people in Chamonix screaming in exultation, and me looking on at a YouTube feed thinking “I want to be them”. 

Well I can’t ever be those people, and I know that. I also could never, especially now in my advancing years, be fit enough to complete UTMB. That’s for the hardcore and serious athletes. There are two cut down versions though, the CCC, which is 105km and about 7,000m of climbing, and the OCC, officially 57km and 3,942m of ascent. The latter, if I train and train and train and train, is I think possible. OCC by the way stands for Orsières-Champex-Chamonix, the final part of the main event. I’ve done two Ultras of longer, both 75km, albeit with less climbing (around 2,700m), and so I’m not completely overwhelmed by the magnitude, but I do know that this will be a massive level tougher, with monster climbs and cut off times to probably defeat all those who aren’t absolutely at the top of their capabilities and fitness on the day.

I have of late, read and watched many a YouTube video on OCC and the whole finals week at UTMB. It is jaw dropping. There is also a little problem facing me though here. Having read and watched the tributes and the dissections of the athletes, all will say the same thing – there is only one thing harder than actually completing such a gruelling event, and that is getting a place on the starting line in the first place. 

Firstly only 1,200 people are allowed to start OCC. They cover this by a ballot, and to be able to even enter the ballot you need two things, both very hard to achieve. The first is called a UTMB Index, which means you need a ranking having taken part in one of the worldwide qualifying events. Secondly you need at least one Running Stone, achieved by completing one of only 37 different events in the two years up to the OCC itself. There is only one of these events in the UK, and many of the others are both a very long way away and also just as hard to enrol for as UTMB itself. But I’m not letting that put me off!

The journey therefore starts here. Last night, having finished work for the week, I decided to book myself a flight to Chamonix for the weekend, where I sit now writing this, albeit with a glass of wine currently. It’s probably my tenth time here I’d say. I’m going to have a mooch around, breathe in the air, go into a few trail running shops, and then get the cablecar up to Flegère. From there I’ll walk (maybe even lightly jog, who knows, my trail running shoes will be on) down to Chamonix, and listen to the voices in my head calling out at me to do this for real. The voices are strong, they got me to write this blog in fact, and I know, just know, that this will be the first of many blog posts on this subject. 

The journey doesn’t start here. It has already begun. Santé!