PTL 2025

If I had to pick a place to draw my last breath it would be in the mountains, preferably some nice ones and the Alps certainly ticked this box. However my method of demise would be on the top of a high peak watching a beautiful sunset over a vast mountain landscape before slowly drifting off to sleep never to wake again.

Instead I found myself in excruciating pain, battling my way through steep glacial moraine in a blizzard attempting to reach a seemingly insurmountable mountain hut on the edge of a glacier. My hands were numb with cold, I was soaked through, freezing and utterly exhausted. I wanted nothing more than to lie down on the ground and fall asleep. Thankfully I had 2 companions’ who wouldn’t allow this to happen and were frog marching me at a snails pace up the mountain. But could we really make it to the hut?

So what is the PTL

The Petite Trotte à Léon is one of the UTMB events, taking place in the Alps at the end of August. It’s around 300km and 25,000 metres (yes metres, around 3 times the height of Everest) of elevation over 6 days.

The route is characterised by high mountain passes, exposed ridges and glacial terrain so additional safety equipment must be carried namely a climbing harness, via ferrata lanyard, a helmet and mini crampons. It’s also not marked and often pathless so being able to navigate is essential.

Support points are few and far between so there is a strong emphasis on self-sufficiency, very much akin to the ethos of the Spine races. The event isn’t a race – no prizes are awarded or rankings given, the emphasis is on the experience and just finishing is classed as being a win.

It’s a continuous event – the clock starts at 8am on Monday morning and we had until 3pm on the Sunday to complete, giving us 6 days and 7 hours. There are a small number of checkpoints en-route providing food and water, some of which you are allowed to sleep but other than that we would be fully self-sufficient.

I’d known about the race for a number of years but never seriously considered doing it as I didn’t think I’d find anyone crazy enough to do it with me. That was until Jon Heaney mentioned it in conversation and that was it, I was in. A chance meeting and conversation with Antonio Codina at Nikki Sommers house after my Paddy Buckley Round the previous year and the team was complete and named as the Geordie Joggers.

Jon and Antonio both had injuries in the past few months which had restricted their ability to train but were now fully recovered from them. I had done things properly picking up some tendonitis in my left knee just a few weeks prior to the race. I guess it was at least better than the torn rotator cuff or broken ribs I’d started previous races with.

We travelled over with Georgina “G” Lewis and Carole Weatherley. G had been due to run the CCC under an invitational place after a storming 3rd place in the UTS 100k the previous year but unfortunately had suffered a stress fracture so had to withdraw. They were still planning on having a holiday and doing some fun stuff.

The day before the race was spent registering, receiving our race briefing and trying to load the last minute GPX tracks onto our watches. And of course, lots of faffing. The forecast for the first few days was good – sunny and temperatures in the mid 20’s with little wind. Then from Wednesday to Thursday a storm was blowing through bringing cooler temperatures and rain, heavy at times with a return to more stable weather by the end of the week.

Day 1

After a short walk from our chalet we finally stood underneath the race gantry listening to Conquest of Paradise, the theme of the UTMB races. It was quite emotional, and we soaked in the atmosphere contemplating what the next 6 days would bring. And then we were off, running through the streets of Chamonix which having been empty as we walked up were now lined with spectators cheering us on.

It wasn’t long before the running stopped and we were straight into the first climb up to the refuge at Bellachat – a nice little 1100 metres of ascent to ease us into the race. I definitely felt the weight of the pack as we ascended but took some comfort to know that this was the heaviest it would be. It was much heavier than would normally be the case in these type of races because of the extra safety equipment we had to carry, and 2 days worth of food, probably around 10kg.

By the way, when I refer to the event as a “race” I appreciate it’s not a race but it’s easier to refer to it as such in the narrative so please forgive this small liberty. Upon reaching the top we were rewarded with spectacular views back towards the Mont Blanc massif. Having gained a substantial amount of height it was now time to lose it with a 1350 metre descent to Servoz.

It was pretty warm by now, although not overpoweringly so – we had some shelter from the trees and were able to stay hydrated. Were had been told to expect “light refreshments” as Servoz which constituted water/juice and a few slices if banana and apple. Just as well I wasn’t expecting a full 3 course meal.

Then it was again off up another huge climb to reach Lake Pormenaz with more spectacular views.

And then another monster descent back to Servoz including a steep technical down climb with fixed chains where we had to wear our helmets for risk of rockfall (and person fall).

At least time second time around in Servoz there were some more substantial snacks on offer which we took advantage of. The next climb followed swiftly and we passed a team with a runner who was visibly unwell and struggling. One of his teammates was carrying his bag for him – Jon gave him a salt tablet and we pressed on.

This was a really enjoyable section – the sunset was amazing casting a glorious red hue over the seemingly endless mountains stretching out in all directions. We then descended to the Col De Vosa where we found an open refuge which serves one of the may ski resorts in the Alps. We took advantage to top up our water supplies and consume some fizzy pop. We briefly chatted to an American team Le Csz – we didn’t realise at the time but our paths would cross again many times over the course of the next 5 days. Darkness had now arrived and after a few more hours and another big climb we arrived at the first via ferrata section where a safety team was stationed to make sure we were all kitted out properly with our harnesses and helmets. A competitor had sadly died here a few years ago and it really underlined the seriousness of the event.

That section was fun, however I started to feel a bit ropey on the final steep climb up to the refuge de plan Glaciers at around 2700 metres – I suspect it was probably under fuelling so upon arriving I forced as much food down as I could including a few bowls of delicious soup. Personally in long endurance races there are 2 types of food that bring be around if I’m feeling crap – soup and Coke (although I have to careful I don’t drink too much Coke as that can lead to other problems). I’ve never had both together in the same bowl – maybe that’s an experiment for another time.

It seemed to work and I perked up on the long descent down to Les Contamines (around 1600 metres of descending). My knee definitely wasn’t happy on these long descents especially on the steeper sections but it didn’t seem to be getting any worse and I prayed it would hold out till the end.

We stopped a few times to gaze up at the night sky – it was truly spectacular, unspoilt by light pollution with an abundance of stars and the milky way clearly visible. Glancing behind we also picked out a multitude of headtorches following us down the hill.

One of the down sides in doing long multi day endurance events is that you spend a considerable time in darkness and aren’t able to take in the surrounding scenery. But on the positive side there is something very special about being in the mountains under the cover of darkness with a clear sky and favourable weather. There are no crowds or people, no noise, no unnecessary distractions only peace solitude and flow which is exactly how I felt at this point.

The aid station in Les Contamines was a large hall, and the first with proper food – soup and pasta, although no drop bag yet which was good as it limited faffing. It was very busy and noisy and we had decided in advance that we wouldn’t sleep here, although Antonio did manage to grab a 5-minute table nap.

A runner on an adjacent table looked in a very bad way and had withdrew from the race. I spotted a fellow Brit, Evan (we had briefly spent some time with him in the run down to Servoz) chatting to him. Evan had snapped one of his poles and was exploring the possibility of either borrowing or buying the poor lads poles as they were sadly surplus to his immediate requirements.

I learned later that he had been successful in his negotiations but subsequently snapped those poles too. At the time given the terrain I though that being able to complete the remaining part of the race without poles would be a major limiting factor and was glad that both of mine were still intact. This wasn’t to last but more on that later. Everyone was in good spirits with no major issues so far and all of our feet were holding up well. I had a little rubbing on the back of my heels, but some k-tape quickly solved that issue.

One thing that had been an annoyance but not a major problem was how dry my mouth was, no matter how much I drank. I think it was a combination of the warm dry air and the elevation.

Day 2

We departed Les Contamines in good spirits at around 6am to start the long climb up Mt Joly. It was shaping up to be another hot day but for now we were in the shade. I was feeling good on the climb but Jon and Antonio were both feeling sleepy so we decided to stop for a quick 10 minute power nap.

This seemed to work for them and we pressed on up the big climb. After finally cresting the top we were rewarded with some spectacular far ranging views from the Mont Blanc massif , to the very edge of the alps.

As we traversed the ridge we were accompanied by a drone capturing some footage which made it into one of the post race videos

We dropped off the ridge down to the Col de Joly where we grabbed a 15 minute power nap in the shade of an old building and pushed down some food. Again I wasn’t feeling sleepy and just lay there like an owl. There was a large refuge here which we visited to top up on water, refresh ourselves with coke and attempted to buy some food for the road. Unfortunately, there was no take away option – in retrospect we should have probably just ordered some eat in food, but it was a lesson learned.

Another short climb to another col followed. On the descent Jon was experiencing difficulty with his calf so we slowed the pace accordingly. We spent a bit of time on this section with team Le Csz who seemed in good spirits. We dropped down to La Gittaz refuge where there was an aid station for the TDS race (another in the UTMB series) which we had been told we could also use.

There was a decent selection of snacks such as fruit, nuts, cheese, hams, energy bars and we also had some soup. We now joined the TDS route but going in the opposite direction, so we were faced with a constant onslaught of runners descending at pace as we climbed in the opposite direction at what seemed like a snail’s pace.

The climb led to a pretty canyon in which there were a number of cameras setup to capture some pictures of the TDS runners which they could then buy later at an inflated price.. Antonio stopped a few times to chat with various TDS runners – it seems like he knew everyone!

After another climb we reached Col de la Sauce at which point our route and the TDS diverged. Whilst it had been nice to share encouragement with the TDS runners it had been cumbersome constantly moving off the trail to let them past and I was glad of some space and a bit more solitude.

We climbed onto a stunning ridge and traversed across to the Col de la Croix du Bonhomme at which point there was a refuge where we stopped for some refreshments. I was familiar with this section from when I fastpacked the Tour of Mont Blanc back in 2023, although back then it was covered in snow and wasn’t infested with flies.

There was a distinct change in the weather now – although it was still warm in the sun, a bit of wind had picked up and it was noticeably chilly in the shade.

We climbed up the Col de Fours at 2665 metres which we again shared with Le Csz before a long descent down to Les Chapieux. After successfully negotiating some tricky technical terrain for the past 2 days John took a tumble on a benign path only yards from the hostel, luckily escaping with only some road rash. This was the first place we had planned to sleep, and we arrived at 7:30pm – around 90 minutes ahead of our rough schedule.

Upon entering we were informed that the bad weather route had been invoked for the next 3 sections. Given the forecast this wasn’t a surprise although it was disappointing to not now be crossing the glacier which was on the original route. The hostel was chaotic – no-one seemed to be in charge and it was a bit of a battle ordering some lasagne. Many of the volunteers spoke no or little English, but we managed to get by with a combination of my very limited French and broad Geordie accent. Antonio was a godsend in these situations, communicating seamlessly in seemingly every language going.

We decided to stock up on supplies from a shop just outside of the refuge which we had passed on the way in, but sadly it was closed upon our return. There was also no opportunity to buy any take away food from the refuge which was disappointing. Because we didn’t have our drop bags there wasn’t much faffing to be done other that charging stuff and a bit of footcare. Although sore, everyone’s feet were holding out pretty well.

Sleeping quarters was a large room setup with rows of camping beds – there must have been about 30 people in there it wasn’t exactly quiet. We agreed to sleep for 3 hours so I picked a bed and hunkered down, although sleep was hard to come by I think I managed maybe 30 minutes of broken sleep. There was a constant cycle of alarms going off every 15 minutes, followed by a period of shuffling and faffing, silence and then the next alarm.

Day 3

I felt dreadful when I woke. I had DOMS in my legs, what felt like the onset of a cold and my mouth and throat felt like sandpaper. After unsuccessfully attempting to blag another portion of Lasagne we set off into the night, again with team Le Csz.

As soon as we were outside I had a massive coughing fit which took a while to get under control. It settled down after a while, however its role in this story is not yet over – more of that to come later. As we progressed it started spitting on to rain a little. Jon asked “when do you think we should put our rain jackets on”. “When it starts raining” was Antinio’s response – it was one of the best of the week.

After a quick flat section along the valley it was time for another climb at which point it started raining more heavily and became increasingly colder the more height we gained. The top section of the ridge was quite rocky and there was a volunteer there directing us the best way to go !

After cresting the ridge we decided to stop to put our waterproof pants on as we were heading directly into a headwind and it was now very cold and raining steadily. The descent was pathless on wet slippery grass which made things quite exciting. At one point I slipped and went flying down the hill on my backside, closely followed by Antonio who nearly took me out. Further down the hill I slipped awkwardly and snapped one of my poles. F***k. I hadn’t brought any spares but luckily Jon had brought Helen’s in his drop bag and said I could use them. What a star.

The next section through the valley was pathless, boggy and hard going. At one point I tried to use just one pole which did help for a short time before I fell and broke that one too. This was a real low point in the race for me. At least it had stopped raining and warmed up enough for us to take off our waterproof pants.

As we reached the start of the next climb Jon complained of feeling sick so we decided to stop for a quick 15 minute power nap. I felt great on the next climb up to Col de Forclaz (this seems to be a popular name for a col in France – there were 3 of them on this route alone. No wonder there is a brand named after them). Team Cyz caught us up and we reached the top of the pass together just as dawn arrived. Unfortunately Dawn didn’t have any snacks for us so we pushed on without her.

It was a pleasant descent down to the next checkpoint which we spent together. At one point we encountered a pair of angry dogs guarding a herd of sheep. They ran next to us on the other side of a precarious looking “fence” (a line of tape suspended on poles) for about 20 minutes barking incessantly. They looked as if they could have easily gotten over the fence if they had wanted to, but seemed content to just follow us as long as we didn’t make any attempt to cross it.

We had been told about these dogs during the briefing, the advice being to stay calm and just talk to them. They did however neglect to mention which language the dogs spoke so unfortunately that tactic didn’t work as they clearly didn’t understand Geordie.

We arrived at the Hospice du Petit Saint Benard in the early morning, well ahead of our schedule. This was good but did present a small problem. We hadn’t planned to sleep until the next refuge which due to the bad weather route we roughly calculated we would arrive at well before dark so would be sleeping during the day. We could push on to Derby, but there was no option to sleep in the refuge so if we chose that option we’d have to sleep outside, potentially in bad weather.

It was too far to push on to the next refuge, so we decided to have a couple of hours sleep at St Bernard. My feet were heavily macerated from all the wet ground so it would give them a chance to dry out. Upon arriving we were directed to a dilapidated section of the building which although having a roof, had little else in terms of comfort. Lines of benches were full of people sitting around faffing with bags and kit strewn haphazardly all over the place. I managed to find a small “space” and set off to find our drop bags which was no easy task.

I was eventually redirected outside to a transit van which backed off to a taped off area of the building where I eventually located them and struggled to drag them out. This is one area I feel could definitely be improved. I don’t need to be mollycoddled during a race but it wouldn’t take too much effort to have someone direct you to your drop bag upon entering the aid station.

On the plus side we enjoyed a nice chicken curry before bedding down for some sleep. I again slept poorly, only managing maybe 20 minutes in the 2 hours of lying down. There was a bit more faffing than usual to be done because we had our drop bags but once done we set off in the early afternoon.

It was noticeably cooler and dank with low cloud and drizzly rain obscuring any views. We had 2 medium climbs to do before reaching the next refuge at Deffeyes. We had been climbing for around 30 minutes when Antonio had a shocking revelation. He’d left the tracker back at the refuge. It didn’t make sense for all of us to go back down so Antonio left his bag and set off to retrieve it alone.

In retrospect Jon and I should have probably taken the opportunity to have a sleep, but we were both feeling quite refreshed after the break so instead reflected on the race so far. It also wasn’t very conducive conditions for sleeping. Antonio arrived back about 45 minutes later, and which point the clag had cleared and we again had good visibility and good moods.

The next section was through a ski resort on access tracks, and whilst unstimulating at least the terrain was easy going. There were a few games of “its raining lets stop to put waterproofs on, now I’m too hot lets stop to take them off” before we arrived at the 2nd climb, just a medium one of around 500m.

The clag rolled back in on the climb obstructing any views but we arrived at the Rifugio Deffeyes just after sunset in good spirits. What a difference to the last checkpoint, we were welcomed in, sat down and had a bowl or soup and pasta in front of us within 5 minutes of entering. Although busy the hut was well organised and after eating we were directed to a bed where we agreed to have 3 hours sleep.

It was my best sleep of the trip so far, I slept pretty much all the way through. Although my feet weren’t causing any major issues they were sore and I have a few small blisters and hot spots, so I spent a little time taping them up before we setoff once more into the night.

Day 4

Another diversion had been enacted which wasn’t on the map – we were told to follow the alta via 2 (which was also part of the Tor De Geants route) before it rejoined the original route. It was about an hour of climbing , and then a huge 2000metre descent down to Derby.

Upon leaving the hut it became immediately apparent that something was wrong. I was coughing again, but the main problem was my breathing. I was short of breath and just couldn’t seem to get enough air into my lungs.

I had to tell the lads to dial the pace back a notch as it felt like I was working overly hard to keep up. Antonio suggested wearing a buff to warm the air going into my lungs – he’d been struggling with a cough earlier in the race and had post his voice. The lads kept asking if I was ok, if the pace was ok and if I wanted to stop. I might have gotten a little ratty at this point, I asked them to stop asking me – they would know if the pace wasn’t ok as they would drop me and I just wanted to push on, get through it and not stop. It was uncomfortable but manageable as long as the pace wasn’t too fast.

We reached Passo Alto– the highest point we would reach on the race at 2860 metres and stopped for the obligatory selfie before starting the long descent. And what a descent – 2000 metres, it went on forever. Steep and rocky at first, then some fiddly sections as we reached the tree line where navigation was challenging before we rejoined the main route. We spent the descent with a few other teams and it was good to have a little company.

Jon was experiencing some discomfort in his knees, which wasn’t surprising. I hadn’t thought of my knees in a while, my difficulty breathing had distracted my attention and whilst I could definitely feel the descent in them my problematic left knee actually seemed to be a little better. Explain that one!

After around 3 hours of descending we finally reached Derby and found it a lot quieter than the other checkpoints. There wasn’t much there other than some light snacks so we didn’t spend much time there, although we did take the opportunity to have a 10-minute table nap.

We were informed of some more diversions which weren’t marked on our maps and a steep descent where we were advised to use our spikes. It started raining as we left so we donned our waterproofs. It became increasingly heavy until it was torrential – water was gushing down the streets like rivers and any hope of keeping our feet dry was instantly quashed.

Jon and Antonio donned their ponchos and I decided to put mine on too. I’d never worn a poncho before other than at a festival and didn’t think I would do during the race, but to be honest I’m now a total convert. Wearing waterproofs always leads to the same problem – when warm, especially on climbs you sweat into the waterproof which can’t wick the moisture quickly enough, so you end up soaking, and then potentially cold.

A poncho is much more loose fitting and sits outside everything including your pack so has the advantage of keeping that dry too. If running then I could imagine they would get in the way, but when hiking , especially at the pace we were moving at then that is not a problem, and they are also easy to put on and remove. They also allow you to wear non waterproof layers underneath which helps with moisture management and temperature regulation.

I just wished I had went for a bit more of a heavy duty one instead of the one I had which was akin to a bin liner. It was light and did the trick, but did end up pretty shredded by the end of the race.

The climb was a brute – around 1400m steep and unrelenting. As daylight arrived the rain eased a little and whilst no longer torrential was still pretty steady. Both Jon and Antonio were feeling sleepy so we decided to stop for a 15 minute power nap. Jon picked a spot under some thicker tree cover which we thought may have provided some shelter but it was no better than anywhere else. This was another time our sleep cycles were out – although tired I didn’t feel sleepy. I lay there for 15 minutes getting annoyed from the constant dripping water on my and although the poncho kept me dry I was far from comfortable and didn’t sleep a wink.

I felt cold once we started again o put on a bit of a spurt, and then about 10 minutes away from where we had “slept” we came across an enclave of empty farm buildings with lots of shelter which some other teams had taken advantage of to rest and sleep. If we’d looked at the map we would have spotted this, but the maps were tucked away in Antonios bag.

This highlights another lesson learned. We were provided with 46 pages of maps, printed on normal non waterproof paper which contained both the normal and bad weather route. We were also given it as a PDF, however this didn’t contain the new diversions which had been enacted a few days before the race start. Non of the maps contained the diversions of diversions. The maps were also blurry which made it difficult to pick out detail.

I would occasionally look t the digital maps on my phone but it was fiddly , and because such a small area was displayed on each page, and there was some duplication to show the bad weather routes it was difficult to follow the route. I feel like in the UK we are spoiled with race maps such as the ones provided by the OMM, Dragons Back etc which are of high quality, waterproof and generally show a larger area. Back to the climb which went on forever until we finally crested the ridge and as if to reward us it also stopped raining.

It was nice to have a short section of flattish terrain before the route dropped down from the ridge and through some tricky to navigate farmland. We then had another diversion within a diversion, climbing up to the Col de Citron. On the descent we got chatting to Ewan and Cedric’s team with whom we had crossed paths with multiple times on the trail (Ewan had snapped a pole back in Les Contamines). Ewan was English but now lives in Chamonix.

It was nice to have some company and helped to pass the time more quickly. St Rhemy was busy. The aid station consisted of a large marquee with a section for sleeping (again in camp beds) and some benches for eating and faffing. We also had out drop bags here for the 2nd and last time.

Antinio returned from the toilets proclaiming them to be “grim”. I’ve been to lots of music festivals and seen some gruesome toilets in my time but these ones had a special level of grimness. They were individual Portaloo’s which consisted of a hole in the ground over which you had to squat and a small tap to wash away any excess. You had to be a pretty good shot to hit the hole, and it was sadly evident that some people who had been before me had not been (or maybe they had been if they’d been aiming for the wall or the small area in which you had to stand in.

To top it all off the toilet doors didn’t lock and they were too far away to hold shut whilst doing your business so the entire operation also had an element of excitement about it.

We decided to try for 3 hours sleep. I lay there any dozed off for maybe a few minutes but true sleep alluded me. I eventually got up about 30 minutes before schedule and decided to tape my feet and cut some additional tape to save time further down the line. Whilst taping my feet I got chatting to one of the guys from the American team. He said that a big storm was going to blow through at about 7pm with around 40mm of rain in an hour. They were debating whether to sit it out in the aid station and wait for it to pass – it was currently 4pm so they would be there a while.

As we were preparing to leave Ewan asked if he and Cedric could join us which would have been nice but they were going to be another 10 minutes so we agreed to head off separately and hopefully see them on the trail. Despite the lack of sleep I felt good leaving the checkpoint as we went straight into another monster climb. As we climbed there was a sharp contrast of the views behind us and up ahead. Behind there were staggering beautiful long ranging mountain vistas of enormous peaks, valleys and cloud inversions.

Up ahead the sky was dark and moody and we could hear the distant rumble of thunder. The thunder intensified and we were treat to a continuous show of lightning, although it was still dry where we were.

That soon changed, it suddenly became very cold and windy signalling the onset of the storm so we layered up with waterproofs and our ponchos just in time before the rain arrived. And it was heavy – not quite as heavy as it had been leaving Derby but still significant. I was very pleased that we were on the diverted route and not on the very high ground (3000m), although we were still at around 2500m. We were now also entering our 3rd night.

Another diversion of a diversion followed – the route went downhill and so did I. Nothing major but just deep tiredness and lethargy. It seemed to take forever to reach the next hut, and just to compound our misery it started to rain again. Finally after another little unexpected climb we reached the Cabin de Jeu and found it full to the brim.

It was just a very small hut and we struggled to find some space, but found a spot in the corner where we loaded up on soup and pasta and planned our sleep strategy. I originally suggested 4 hours as I believed we had plenty time and in no danger of missing the cutoffs. I was pretty beat and desperately needed a good sleep, having not slept properly since Deffys. I got talked down to 3 hours so we headed upstairs to find a tiny room crammed to the brim with people sleeping and noisily snoring.

I fell asleep instantly , and was woken up by Jon some time later. Looking at my watch I’d slept for 2 and a half hours – half an hour short what was going on! Jon apologised for the early awakening, and I might have snapped at him before he explained that we’d been told to move and didn’t have a choice which then made be feel guilty.

It turned out they’d came after 90 minutes to try and move us but Antonio negotiated a little more time, and they had managed to squash another person in beside us. I think the invocation of the bad weather route led to a lower attrition rate and thus a bit more pressure on some of the smaller refuges. Because of the wet conditions all of the tape had came off my feet so I needed to redress them. Luckily the tape and moleskin I’d pre-cut saved some time here.

My mood was lifted when Antonio produced an omlette, it was possibly the best I’ve ever had. I washed it down with a cup of coffee and then we were on our way.

Day 5

Once again we set off into the darkness albeit it wouldn’t be long before dawn arrived. As light began to appear in the sky the mountain landscape revealed itself and again we were treated to some truly stunning cloud inversions, the pictures just don’t do it justice. We were all in good spirits and made good progress. and spent a bit of time with a few other teams.

Again we took the bad weather route which meant a big descent and then a traverse around a mountain side. We moved out of the shadow of the mountain into the sun and were greeted with far reaching panoramic views of the Mont Blanc massif, this time from the other side, interspaced with cloud inversions – truly stunning.

We stopped for a 30 minute power nap in the sun before devouring our sandwiches which the refuge had made up for us. We were all in good spirits and I felt particularly good on this section, in contrast with Jon who was feeling a bit ropey. The sunshine provided warmth and amazing visibility. It was another long descent down to Orsiers which I really enjoyed and we arrived at the checkpoint in blazing sunshine. We were informed of another storm coming on later that day and potentially some snow higher up.

We decided to sleep for an hour before tackling the next section which included a mega 1400m climb. Again I didn’t feel particularly tired and barely slept at all. When I did rise I went to wake Jon which took a few attempts he looked like he could have slept all day. Antonio had suggested sleeping longer to avoid the heat and I’m sure Jon would have happily stayed there all day too. I preferred to make as much of the daylight and good weather before the storm arrived – I was familiar with the next section and knew that for most of the climb we would have shelter in the trees.

It was one of the few times we disagreed on something, but we collectively agreed to leave and didn’t make a big deal of it. We soon joined the main UTMB and CCC route and were accompanied by a throng of CCC runners making their way up to Champex Lac where there was an enormous aid station and hundreds of spectators cheering loudly and ringing cow bells. The atmosphere was electric and a massive disconnect to what we had experienced in the last few days.

Shorty afterwards we had to stop so I could address some chaffing in a particularly tender area – I’ll spare you the details but safe to say it was an intricate operation to patch up the affected area.

As we began the Bovine climb the sun disappeared and it started to rain so it was back on with the waterproofs. The weather further deteriorated coming to the Col De Forclaz with the wind picking up and darkness arriving. A descent to Trient led us to another enormous aid station of which I took advantage to fill one of my bottles with some coke. Although not as heavy as it had been the rain was pretty steady as we left Trient to face the last climb of the race, and it was a big one. 900 metres up to the Col De Balme and then another 500m to the Albert Premier Hut where we were planning on stopping for some sleep.

As we began the climb I immediately noticed something wasn’t right. The pain in my chest had intensified and I was unable to put any pressure on the left-hand side of my body. In practice this meant that I couldn’t use my left pole and even just climbing without it the pain level was around an 8.

I voiced y concerns to the lads – there was no way I wasn’t getting up the climb but it would have to be at a slower pace at which the pain level wasn’t as intense. They kindly took some kit out of my bag which helped and Jon suggested that I lead to set the pace. I managed to get into a bit of a rhythm using just one pole at a slower pace and we gradually made progress up the climb in the rank conditions.

As we climbed above the treeline we were now exposed to the wind and in combination with the slower pace led to me becoming increasingly colder. There was no shelter and I didn’t really want to stop in the wind and rain to put on more layers so I planned to push on to the top where there was a hut in which we could hopefully shelter inside and change. As ever the top of the pass took longer to reach than we would have liked but eventually we made it, only to find that the hut was closed. At least it provided some shelter from the wind so I took the opportunity to put on all the remaining kit that I had. Even then I was still cold and shivering and I knew that we still had a long way to go.

I knew that had to move more quickly than I had been to generate some more heat, so I got my other pole back out and asked Antonio if he could lead and I’d do my best to keep up. I knew it was going to be painful but as long as I was still able to physically able to move and put at least some pressure on my left-hand side then I had to do so otherwise there was a real risk of hypothermia.

We set off straight into a driving headwind and rain. The first mile or so was relatively flat traversing a hillside with some steep drop offs to the side which I tried not to look at too closely. There was a few sections with fixed chains that maybe we should have put our lanyards on for but there was no way we were stopping in those conditions. Around this point the rain changed to snow which underlined how cold it now was.

I noticed that although my right hand was warm enough, my left hand was freezing cold and at first I couldn’t work out why until I realised that it was because I’d been using my left hand to grab the chains. It started to go numb which I knew was a worrying early warning sign of frostbite so I frantically waved my hand around and kept clenching my fist to get some blood flow back into it which I eventually managed to do.

Jon told me that we were nearly there which I knew was a blatant lie. I felt like asking him not to bullshit me and just be straight but that would involve effort that I didn’t have. He then told me that we could now see the light of the hut which made me feel slightly better until I looked up. Surely that couldn’t be the hut, it was so high up it looked more like a star.

The next section was one of the most difficult I’ve had in my life. The route had now changed from a path to a snow covered boulder field – the moraine of the glacier, and the route had disappeared underneath the snow. Every step was agony and I cried out in pain. Jon went ahead to find the way whilst Antonio followed me, regularly shouting encouragement. Although I didn’t know it at the time he was facing his own battle of his poncho flapping around uncontrollably in the wind, and his waterproof trousers continuously falling down.

Breathing too deeply caused excruciating pain in my chest I tried to maintain some momentum, but had to take a few breaks to catch my breath. At one point Jon advised that we didn’t have time to stop as the snow was getting heavier. Jon is probably the calmest most logical person I know. There was no panic in his voice but I knew that for him to voice this concern that he was worried and it again underlined the seriousness of the situation.

I had got to a stage where none of the usual tricks would fix me. A gel, or any other time of food made no difference. Power nap? Impractical given the conditions but I don’t believe that would have worked. I had a really deep set tiredness and exhaustion that could only be fixed by an extended period of rest and sleep. All thoughts of the race went out of my head and I just had one singular goal – to reach the hut.

After what seemed like forever we finally reached it. In the last few hours all sorts of thoughts had been going through my head. What would happen if the snow didn’t stop? How would we get down? Would we be stranded? And would I even be physically capable of making the long descent back down to the valley?

The thought of scrambling back down through the snow covered boulder field filled me with fear and trepidation. I had visions of being welcomed into the hut by a throng of volunteers, congratulating me on a herculean effort , finding me a warm comfortable spot to sit and generally mothering me.

Or maybe they would take one look at me, withdraw me from the event and make a mental note to advise the organisers to never let me enter ever again. Instead I was greeted by a cold dank room full of soaking wet clothes hanging up, shoes and a few people milling around who didn’t even look at us. I collapsed onto a nearby table and instantly fell asleep.

After some indeterminate time Jon woke we and told me to take off my wet clothes. I think if he hadn’t I’d still be there now (maybe still alive maybe not). It vaguely registered that they would have no chance of drying in that space but my brain was fuzzy and there was no immediate alternative.

We climbed a set of stairs into the main hut and found it overwhelmingly busy with people bustling around, eating, faffing and sleeping in random places on the floor. As well as PTL runners there were lots of climbers who would be setting off the following day to climb some of the enormous peaks surrounding the hut. We found a table to sit and again I immediately fell asleep.

After another period of time Antonio woke me and advised that he’d found us a place to sleep in an outside building which was icy cold but at least I managed to find a quilt. Around 3 or 4 hours later Antonio shook me awake, but why was he sitting on my chest? Of course he wasn’t but that’s how it felt, the pain on my left side was excruciating and I was only able to take very shallow breaths.

I couldn’t really think of anything to say so I just asked what the plan was. “Chamonix” he beamed with his usual boundless enthusiasm. It was just what I needed – the last thing I needed was anyone putting any doubt in my head. I didn’t need to be mothered or worried over, we only had 16 miles now to go with no more big climbs so we just needed to get it done.

Lying there in so much pain and discomfort it still seemed like an impossible task to get back down to Chamonix but there was no way I wasn’t going to at least try. We made our way back to the main building and my spirits lifted. Daylight had arrived, the snow had stopped and it was considerably warmer. I popped some codeine, had some food and we set off into the morning.

The view from the hut was stunning, it was right on the edge of a huge glacier and we could see all the way down to the valley to which we were heading 1700 metres below us. The snow was beginning to melt and we could now see a clear path which had eluded us the previous night weaving its way through the boulders.

One of my main concerns was being warm enough on the descent, but after descending for around 10 minutes it was clear this wasn’t going to be an issue as we were all sweating so we took a break to vent. Although I was still struggling to breathe and in pain it wasn’t as much of a limiting factor as it had been the previous night and for the first time, I felt confident that we were going to make it.

After descending for a few hours we finally made it to the valley floor around Le Tour and it had turned into another glorious day with wall-to-wall sunshine. The last miles along the valley floor were really enjoyable and we made good progress along the forest trails finally arriving on the outskirts of Chamonix where we were stopped by the race organisers.

Tom Evans had just finished the UTMB in first place and they were holding us back until the second-place runner had went through. On the positive side they had beers so we chilled out in the sun with the Taiwan Trailblazers who had also been held up. Ben Dhiman ran through but then we were told we had to wait for 3rd place, then 4th place. It was a little frustrating and I wondered if we’d ever make it to the finish line. There were a number of other PTL teams now arriving behind us too. Most importantly the beers had ran out.

After about an hour we were finally given the green light and were told that the teams would be set off in the order in which they had arrived with a short gap in between. The last 500 metres of the course was barriered off and the crowds were amazing. We set off into the melee , high fiving people as we went . I probably got a little carried away, even though I could hardly breathe I somehow managed to find the effort to run through the vast crowds. It was such a disconnect from the solitude of the previous days.

Over the years I’ve seen so much footage of people running down the finishing straight and it was quite emotional to now be doing it ourselves and finally crossing the finishing line 126 hours and 14 minutes after we had departed from it. G had somehow managed to wing her way into the finishers area by telling the organisers she was one of our wives (we never found out which one) and was there to welcome us, swiftly followed by Carole.

After celebrating at the finish area we retreated to our chalet for some R&R before celebrating further on the nighttime. The next day we spent most of the day chilling out at the finishing area watching the last runners come through and then the presentations.

When it came to the PTL finishers we all got up on the stage together and rang our cowbells in unison – it was a fitting and to a great week of adventure in the mountains. Out of the 121 teams who started the race, 92 of them finished which is a higher than usual average, no doubt bolstered by the altered course.

Kit

OMM 25L rucksack (with hard bottles in side pockets) Montane Phase Light waterproof jacket Petzl Sirocco helmet Petzl Scorpio Eashook lanyard Petzl Tour climbing harness Petzl Actic Core headtorch * 2 VJ Ultra shoes Mini Crampons

Reflections

I really enjoyed this race – I’d put it up there with one of the best, if not the best I’ve done.

It was disappointing to go onto the bad weather course as we missed some stunning ridges and scenery, although we still completed the same distance and we only a few thousand metres short of the original elevation. It certainly wasn’t an easy option. I feel like we would have completed the full course – we finished 25 hours inside the race cutoff. We never simultaneously all had a bad patch – Jon and Antonio seemed to be more in synch with theirs whereas I had mine alone. In practice this meant that I didn’t sleep well during out trail naps, or on some of the shorter stays in the refuges. Personally I’d have preferred to push on and spend more time resting in the refuges. But Jon and Antinio seemed to benefit more from our approach.

This is however one of the dynamics of working in a team – you have to try and find the best fit for everyone but it’s never going to be optimal. I thought our team dynamic was good though – we never had any major disagreements or arguments, or even any bickering which can often surface when you are in such close proximity to other people for such as sustained period of time in a stressful situation. I certainly wouldn’t have made it to the Albert Premier hut without Jon and Antonio, they really looked after me when I was going through a tough time.

Although Jon has spent a considerable amount of time in the mountains this was his first multi day race (what a one to start with) and I was interested to see how he would adapt. One thing I can certainly say about Jon is that his preparation is meticulous – there is nothing he hasn’t thought of.

We all enjoyed the race so much that we are returning next year for another adventure in a beautiful part of the world.

• Running
• Winter