Outer Edge ISSUE 43 JAN/FEB/MAR | Page 10

Pain, Pleasure and the European Mountains – Sky Running Worlds By Caine Warburton If you had asked me 12months ago where I thought my running would take me the answer would certainly not have been “to Chamonix for the Sky Running World Championships”. After all I am just an amateur runner, a Queensland boy who was once overweight and known more for his drinking ability than his sporting prowess. So it was quite surreal to find myself sitting in Chamonix…the home of mountain adventure staring up at the majestic peaks the night before the race. Even more surprising was my complete lack of pre-race nerves! I was completely clam, relaxed and content, perhaps I shouldn’t have been? But I knew why I was so relaxed…. I had already well exceeded my wildest dreams just getting here and to be honest I was almost certain an amateur like me wouldn’t be factoring in anywhere NEAR the pointy end of the field. I mean let’s get real here, this was the world championships and the start list included the absolute best mountain/ ultra runners in the world, professionals who made a living from the sport, who trained full time, who I had only ever read about or watched on TV. Race morning came quickly, as it does at 2am!! I made my way down to the start line and after a quick mishap with my bottles (thanks Marcus for the loner ones!!) I took my spot in the sea of headlights. The first section of the race went straight up hill to the La Brevent a 1500mD+ climb. A big pack broke off the front quickly and I settled into the second group just behind the ever positive Emile Forsberg, content to take the start easy. About halfway up Ben came powering past and I joined in, we left Emile and quickly started to pick off others on the way towards the top. It was very quiet, no one spoke a word, only the sounds of laboured breathing and poles on rocks broke the still mountain air. Just as the sun was rising we cleared the tree line and were greeted by a spectacular view of MT Blanc, half in twilight with glimmers of the new day breaking on its summit. We had caught Blake by now and the three of us along with plenty of others crested the summit of La Brevent in about 1:20hr to the distinctive European sound of cow bells.