Modern Athlete Magazine Issue 124, November 2019 | Page 34

Desperate
Sprint
relationship. The extremely efficient medics there put
an end to that, though, with a very careful examination
and treatment of my feet, which included injecting
each blister with iodine. Yes, it was as painful as it
sounds! The medic kept telling me to lie down, but I
couldn’t, because if I did my eyes closed and I was
asleep immediately.
I hobbled out and started sleep-climbing to the
next check point. Very weird thing, that, climbing
as hard as you can and falling asleep while doing it.
Fortunately, on the downhills, my screaming quads
and feet kept me awake. When I had finished the
second-last climb of the race, I hobbled into the
medic tent and had my feet treated again, and had the
blood behind a toenail released, counting my lucky
stars my feet didn’t look like the guy next to me. I
walked around the checkpoint looking at all the food
and drink, but really could not bring myself to have
anything, because I had felt nauseous for a few hours,
and even looking at water would make me gag.
I met up again with a Polish runner I had spent
the majority of the second night with, and the
conversation really helped keep us awake as together
we set off at a leisurely pace to our final climb,
very much dreaded because of the incline and how
uncomfortably difficult it is. We climbed it at a leisurely
pace, thinking we had a lot more time than we did.
Apparently maths on sleep-deprived brains doesn’t
always work out well...
I honestly felt like I was flying on that terrain. I was
probably only moving at a nice slow jog, but it didn’t
feel like it on those legs, and I was terrified of not
finishing my race because of a silly miscalculation.
I walked into that final checkpoint ahead of the cut-
off, with my fist up in the air, on an emotional high,
but completely spent from the sprint. From there,
after a quick refuel, I took my time with the last 8km,
moving at a very slow walk on my jelly quads and
aching feet, descending all the while into Chamonix,
knowing I had enough time. However, my slow pace
caused a lot of stress for my family, wondering what
was wrong.
Buoyed by the huge, cheering crowds – there were
so many people lining the streets, high-fiving and
cheering for the back of the packers like me, which
was really special – I ran further into town, where my
family was waiting. It was a hugely emotional moment
for me, and after some much-needed hugs, I grabbed
my daughter’s hand, and together with my wife and
sister, we all ran the last couple of hundred metres to
the finish line. (Pretty sure it was a kilometre, because
it felt so long!) It was such an amazing moment... even
typing this brings back so many great emotions.
Thank you to all for the many messages of support,
to my friends and family, and most of all my wife, who
helped me through the many, many training hours and
supported me through all of the time away.
DALE’S LESSONS
AND ADVICE
Do the training: Get a coach, because it gives you
a lot of confidence knowing you are doing the right
thing! Huge thanks to Coach Neville, and all the
wealth of knowledge and support from his group
of runners!
Include strength work: This is something I have
always neglected, and going up and down those
mountains, I really wished I hadn’t!
Plan registration: When choosing your registration
time slot, choose the Thursday, because the queue
was dramatically shorter than the Wednesday!
Get some rest: If you’re going to be running for a
bajillion hours like me, squeeze a few more naps in!
Stumbling around half asleep is not helping. I think
one more 15-minute nap for me would have been
perfect.
Pack ready: Just because it is hot, doesn’t mean
the weather won’t change to freezing in a moment
in the mountains. Always have your gear ready to
put on quickly.
Dress appropriately: Carry two pairs of dry socks,
and wear gaiters!
Mind your maths: Don’t try do time calculations on
a rotten brain.
Most importantly, enjoy It: Those mountains are
special, and something I will treasure for many
years to come!
This piece was originally published on www.coachneville.com, and is reproduced here with the
permission of author Dale Bagio and his coach, Neville Beeton.
Together we worked out that we still had a lot of time
left to make the next cut-off at La Flégère (163km).
When we got to the top, we asked the nearest official
how long to La Flégère, “One hour,” he said. Cool,
that meant we had two hours to make it. Thirty
minutes, we asked another official, “One hour,” was
the answer. We began to worry a bit. We then reached
a checkpoint, thinking it was La Flégère, so we were
all smiles... but we were wrong, we still had another
3km to go and the official at that point said it would
take us a minimum 1.5 hours to get there. We had less
than 30min left…
Adrenaline and panic-fuelled,
we set off at a sprint, because
I was not going to be ‘that
guy’ with the complicated
story about how I didn’t finish
with only a few kays left! We
passed many runners, some
crying, who had given up on
making the cut-off. I did manage to
get one moving... When he said there
was no time, I said “For f**** sake, try!”
and continued my sprint. He said OK, and
followed us, and I am very happy I managed to
change at least one person’s race.
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ISSUE 124 NOVEMBER 2019 / www.modernathlete.co.za