Been in Europe for a couple weeks touring and running a race. I'll try to embed the report here. I have a 100 miler in Oregon in less than 2 weeks, then done for the season woot. Went to take the fat bike out yesterday, it had a flat tire, wtf over!

2021 UTMB CCC RACE REPORT

CCC is a trail running race with a claimed 20,000+ feet of climbing over 101 kilometers. It travels from the start in Courmayeur, Italy through Champex, Switzerland and finishes in Chamonix, France traversing around the base of Mont Blanc.

Course Map

I had originally thought of doing the full UTMB 171K race with it’s 33,000 feet of climbing, but opted for the shorter race so I would not be too tired doing some other touristy things while we were there. CCC is a WS100 qualifier itself so that is good enough for me. It’s also a very difficult race in it’s own right.

We made plans to fly there and arrive the Wednesday before the Friday morning race start, in order to try and eliminate some jet lag and to get acclimated to the area, and to check things out. It was myself, my wife Diane, and our good friend Kristine. Kristine and my wife are very supportive and offer excellent planning and organization skills for the logistics, and it’s great to have people you trust meeting you at aid stations in the middle of the night knowing what you want or need.

Covid-19 of course placed a huge stress on everything surrounding travel at this period in time, and to be honest I wouldn’t have travelled if it weren’t so hard to get into this race. The CCC requires qualifying races of a certain difficulty yielding a certain number of points to then enter the lottery. Before the race there were questions about travel safety, eating at restaurants, etc. Flying required wearing masks everywhere, and the stores and restaurants all required masks and proof of being vaccinated which for us was our CDC vaccination card. The race itself required masks to be put on at aid stations and the start/finish areas. It all ended up being alright in the end, many of the initial worries did not materialize as being so difficult. However there was research involved as we would be entering 4 different countries. Only the USA required a covid test to re-enter which was weird because the USA had covid spreading like wildfire among the southern unvaccinated states, particularly compared to most of where we were in Europe.

Wednesday we flew into Zurich from Minneapolis via Amsterdam, and drove from Zurich to Chamonix, or more specifically Les Houches where our lodging was. Diane drove exclusively and she did a great job with one of us navigating. Our little apartment was great, and the view was freaking fabulous.

Pre-sunrise from our abode in Les Houches.

Wednesday we ate at the Kitsch Inn in Les Houches for dinner, and walked around a little bit. I did not sleep at all on the overnight flight so I was tired, and I had not slept well the week before stressing about the race and travel. I took a benadryl that night to try and sleep, but it didn’t work so well, so I took a swig of Nyquil around midnight and I slept about 8 hours. Nyquil is a last resort as it makes me groggy, but it does work. I didn't really sleep at all Thursday night before the race, but I did not take anything to help as I didn’t want to start the race groggy. It’s not unusual though, to not sleep much the night before a big race. You’d think not sleeping and then missing another night running overnight would be worse than it is, but it’s not actually that bad.

Thursday we tried to sleep in, and then went to town to check out the venue and pick up my race bib and GPS tracker, and get a feel for the finish line area etc. We walked around and did some shopping, neglecting to eat or drink enough the day before a race. We just got busy walking around checking stuff out and spending too much money on race paraphernalia. Or not. We finally ate in the late afternoon, and then went back to get my stuff ready and to try to get to bed early. I believe the alarm was set for 5:30 am so we could catch the shuttle bus to the start.

Race morning was the usual race preparations. Try to eat, try to poop everything out, and try not to forget anything. The girls would also be out and about and up all night so they had to pack for the day also, and carry the items I thought I would need when they could meet me at the 3 available aid stations. CCC had an extensive list of required gear that one must carry with them. Things like a survival blanket, long upper and lower layer, water-proof jacket and pants, whistle, hat, sunglasses, water hydration pack and water-proof gloves, etc. My pack was heavy when filled with water, creeping up on 8 pounds I suspect. I also carried 2 liters of water in a bladder with Tailwind, extra Tailwind, 8 Gu gels, 2 Cliff Bars, and my cell phone. They also required an extra long layer of a certain weight for the overnight as it was expected to be cold. Needless to say we were told we might be randomly checked for the required gear, so I checked and rechecked and repacked my pack a couple of times.

We walked down and caught the bus to the start easily enough, runners and their supporters were filling the buses up already at 6:30 am, for the 30 minute ride to the start. The ride was uneventful, I did not have to poop, and it seemed to go by quickly. The ride goes through a lengthy tunnel to go through the mountain to Italy rather than going around or over. We got to the start area around 7:00 am, 3 hours before my 10:00 am start time. We went inside and found a spot to sit and wait, but it was chilly as it was near the ice skating rink where speed skating practice was going on. Pretty cool, pun intended. I wore my jacket and had a blanket around my legs, and we sat and talked and had coffee and literally the best croissants ever. Ever.

The Start

10:00 am rolled around soon enough, so with one last trip to the toilette I lined up near the rear of the pack. They had some ceremony before the start at the front, and then it was go time. I purposefully started out slow, to keep my speed in check and not to rabbit. I knew I would not win the race, my main goal was to finish within the 26 ½ hours allotted, or try to break 24 hours. I can say at that time I wasn’t feeling very confident: lack of sleep, nervousness, and not enough food or rest the days before. Nevertheless I felt decent enough when I started running. Once I start a race I feel better, because then everything is now under my control, there are no outside variables that can affect me if I have trained and planned and don’t wuss out, I’ll make it to the finish line.

The first climb once we were out of town was a doozy, the biggest elevation gain of the race, just to tire you out for the rest. Something like 4,200+ feet in just over 5 miles. It started out as paved roads in town, to smaller side roads, to gravel road, to gravel path, to singletrack super steep climbing. I carried some carbon fiber poles (sticks) for my first race with them ever. I had carried them before on a race, but never used them. They are supposed to help when climbing by giving your legs some rest as you use your upper body to help get you uphill. They can also help you when crossing streams or sketchy sections, and can prevent you from losing your balance in a tough spot if you use them correctly.

Elevation Chart.

I stopped to take a few pictures because sometimes the race would come to a crawl as people ahead of you would bunch up on some sort of choke point or obstacle, and we were all like a bunch of ants marching up the side of a green garbage can one behind the others in single file. If you look closely at the next photo you can see the zigzagging lines of runners going up all the way out of sight.

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I looked down the slope a few times and saw that I was near the back of the pack as there were not many runners behind me, and there were hundreds before me. I did not panic and try to go faster, there was no way to pass anyway on the steep uphill, and the path was a well worn foot wide trench with rocks and gravel that was kind of sketchy also. The climb took a long time, something like 2 hours and 40 minutes. I had done a similar climb 6 weeks before in the Tahoe 50 mile race, which also started with a 4,000 foot climb, so I knew to pace myself. Once I got to the top around 8,200 feet I found that the elevation was noticeable, but it wasn’t affecting me nearly as much as Tahoe, when I had breathing problems and could hardly run up over 8,000 feet even when it was flat. Yea boyeee.

It took me 3:26 or so to get to the first aid station at 13.5 kilometers.They were making you put on a mask (maschera!) and use hand sanitizer before you could enter. I struggled to find my mask, wet with sweat and stuffed in a pocket. It made my glasses steam up and was not fun. I refilled my water pack, and ate some watermelon and an orange slice or two. I was doing fairly well for me as far as taking in calories. A race like this really depends on your ability to keep moving forward whatever the pace, and to take in enough calories to support your working efforts.


I left that aid station and made my way to the next, there were only 6 aid stations on the course which is roughly one every 10 miles, which can be 3 hours for some if you are a slower runner. I made it to the second aid station after another 13 kilometers or so as it was supposed to be 26.1 kilometers in. There was more climbing in that portion of course, which my poles or sticks really helped with. By then I had been going for over 5 hours. It was mid afternoon, warm, sunny, and I was feeling pretty good as I was still eating and drinking.

At the second aid station I leaned my sticks against the water refilling table, and with the assistance of a young lady volunteer, I refilled my water bladder in my pack. I was struggling to get my full wet water bladder back into my overstuffed running pack, and when I was done I turned around, and my sticks were gone. Someone had grabbed them and taken them. I asked the young lady if she saw who had taken them, and she just pointed up the trail and said something in French I couldn’t understand. So I hurried up the trail, looking at the people I caught to see if they had my sticks. It turns out that the Black Diamond Carbon Distance Z sticks are quite popular, and I couldn’t stop every runner with them and ask them if I could see if they had my sticks. I think I’ll mark them next time so they are more recognizable.


I carried on, and just a bit up the hill Kristine was on the side of the trail, cheering runners and waiting to see me if she could as I came by. I told her about my missing sticks, as at that time I was still agitated about it. I also saw Diane a bit farther up the trail, and regurgitated my discontent to her also. At that time I did not know that she would go down to the aid station and speak with the workers until she ended up picking up another identical, but older set of the same size and brand sticks, probably the ones the other guy had left to take my almost new ones.

Some moron took my fucking sticks!

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Regardless of getting used to and almost liking using the sticks, I carried on. By now we had fantastic views of the back side of the Alps dividing France and Italy. I was doing alright still, nothing hurt, I was tiring, but not anywhere near feeling defeated or ready to quit. In fact I had started the race telling myself to try and remain positive the entire race and to do my best. Attitude is everything, and there really is no reason to stop or quit a race unless you are actually injured. Feeling tired or sore or disparaged is only temporary, there are lots of ups and downs in a race, and you have to ride the wave and embrace both.


The views just after getting to the top of the climb after seeing Diane and Kristine

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At the top I had also witnessed a helicopter rescue. I was watching it spiral in the valleys making its way up to us, and then it settled in literally 100 feet above a couple of us, and for a second I was thinking he was just showing off for the runners. But it then dropped to a hover just above the ground and picked up a young female runner that apparently had injured her ankle. It was very quick, maybe 20 seconds to put her in the basket, and take off again, it never landed or shut down. Kind of cool despite the injured person I thought. Kind of expensive too, possibly up to $20,000 or so from what I read.


One of my favorite things about the race was running at dusk just before I had to use a headlamp. I was dropping off the side of the mountain and into a little town in Switzerland (La Fouly maybe?) and the cows in the pastures all had cowbells on. There were chalets along the trail and road, and you wound your way through town with a few people cheering. It was very idyllic with the views and the cowbells making their music as you went by.

Helicopter rescue.

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The third aid station came at just over 40 kilometers in and 8 hours elapsed. I had put on my headlamp at around 9:00 pm or 11 hours into the race. It was kind of funny, I was in a long string of runners all moving at the same pace, and it was getting dark. But nobody seemed to want to turn their headlamp on, almost like it was an acknowledgement that we were then running at night. There were a few spots on the trail that had ropes or cables to hang onto in some sketchy spots of the trail. I could see where someone could fall and get hurt. There had been a death in an earlier race of a guy that was in a similar section and fell and was mortally injured from it.


The wife intended to meet me at roughly the halfway point in Champex, so I messaged her when I thought I would get there, but I was later than expected and when I didn’t see her I noticed she had sent me a message that she wouldn’t make it. I was kind of bummed, I was out of Tailwind, and I wanted some more gels and possibly mashed potatoes. Nevertheless I stocked up with what they had, and set out again in the dark.

Most of the runners had put on pants and a jacket when it got dark, I wasn’t cold so I didn’t. I tend to run warm, so I was actually fine most of the night with just my shorts and a tee shirt. Every time I would put on a light jacket or light gloves I would get too hot, so they did not stay on long. I enjoy running at night, so the cool air and the pleasant sound of occasional cowbells and night animals didn’t bother me, it was in fact nice. I could see my breath, but I was okay.


I finally got to see the wife in Trient, where she presented me with the replacement sticks she had finagled out of the second aid station, and I refilled my bladder with Tailwind, and also had some instant potatoes with warm broth. I left that aid station feeling good, hoping to see her or Kristine again at Vallorcine after another bunch of climbing and hiking in the dark.

Entering Vallorcine I was met by Kristine. Diane had wanted to see me finish for sure, so she skipped that aid station, opting to wait at the finish. Technically you could only see one person at 3 of the aid stations, and Diane had missed one already. They had buses to transfer the crew from different places, and apparently they were not reliable or timely enough to guarantee arriving at each aid station at one’s chosen time. Kristine is a capable veteran however, and I left with my pack full of Tailwind again, and some food in me. My watch read 17,197 feet of gain at that point.

What tired looks like:

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Funny thing about races in Europe though. They offer two types of water, regular or non carbonated water, and water with carbonation or gas. I had had my running pack bladder filled accidentally with carbonated water along with Tailwind. I took a big sip walking up the side of a steep path after leaving the aid station, and I spit it out in a big spray of mist like an elephant. What the actual **** was that?! I figured it out, but since it was all I had, I had to drink it. At this point I had roughly 20K to go, and for some reason I stopped eating and drinking religiously because I thought I was almost done. LOL boy are you stupid Jay. Those last few miles would take over 5 hours, with possibly the hardest and most rigorous climbing of the entire race. I was at about 17 hours in and 50 miles, still thinking I could maybe finish in under 20 hours for some reason, maybe 21.

Starting up the final climb of the night with hope, my hopes were soon dashed as I along with a few other runners had all we could do to not stop on the extremely rocky and steep trail ahead of us. It was supposedly around 3,000 feet of climbing to finish, but man was it tough. It was like walking up a rocky water formed ravine, with rocks and boulders strewn about, footing unstable in places. Add in tired legs and soreness in the bottoms of my feet starting to set in, and my hopes of 21 hours were dashed. At the “top” of the climb the path wasn’t any easier, it was twisting and very foggy/misty and those of us that were stuck together just followed one another like ants, probably for the feeling of safety and security. The entire course I was able to mostly follow other runners in fact, there were so many participants.

The kicker was the downhill. It was starting to get light out, enough to see again, when my headlamp flashed and informed me that it was done for the night. It was okay though, I could see well enough to get by without having to replace my battery. The thing is, the downhill wasn’t really runnable, it was twisty, had very narrow worn in paths that my size 13 extra clown feet had trouble staying in without tripping. Think of it as walking down a cow path a foot wide and a foot deep. There were more rocks and little drop offs that one could wipe out one easily, especially being very tired. The bottoms of my feet were being grumpy, and informing me they were not happy stepping on sharp rocks and stuff any longer.

When I finally got to the bottom of that, and thought the climbing was done, I was presented with the bottom of a ski hill that had to be negotiated across before beginning the final downhill. The final downhill portion before getting into Chamonix was rocky enough with water breaks that I simply couldn’t run it, so I did my best and fast walked down as best I could. I was passed by runners that did not apparently have sore feet and were feeling better, which did not help morale at all.

Eventually the downhill transitioned to more of a gravel path that I could start switchbacking down, running being a relative term for what I was doing of course. I did not know how far I had yet to go, and my Garmin watch was already over 60 miles in. I could see town and hear noises of the finish line, and I knew I was going to finish, it was just a matter of when. I still had my hat turned backwards and my headlamp on, and I toyed with the idea of removing my headlamp and adjusting my hat to look better for the pictures. But I said screw it, I was pretty tired.



Final gravel downhill and marking flag.

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Cruelly, at the bottom of the hill you have to climb a few sets of stairs to take a pedestrian footbridge across a busy road. However it meant you were in town, and it was all nice road running to the finish.

Almost there!

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I followed the twisting and turning road to the finish line, with a few people cheering and clapping. I saw the finish line and looked for Diane, and she was there, she ran with me for a little bit before peeling off. I ran through the finish and stopped my watch at 63.93 miles in 22:07:53. I was very tired, and I did not smile enough for my wife, but I did smile a little bit, and had my photo

taken. The race officials made us put masks on, the same one I carried through the race, and we made our way out to get another finish photo and my finisher’s vest. The best part was the beer I got shortly thereafter, and a nice breakfast with the girls. Garmin said I was moving for just over 17 hours. I must have been going up some of the hills so slowly that it did not register my pace as movement lol.

Happy to be done!

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After the finish line the wife and I went back to our lodging, where I tried to sleep, but couldn’t. We ended up getting up and going back into town to watch other runners finish and to eat dinner. The finish line of UTMB is like one big party, with lots of people around celebrating. We got to see some of the top 10 finishers, among them the female winner Courtney Dauwalter.

My race finish was greatly aided by the hard work of my wife Diane and Kristine. Sometimes just knowing they are out there for you, staying up all night, trying to get to where you are in a foreign country, is comforting. Bravo ladies, bravo!

Wow nOOky, what a race. I can't imagine how much planning it took ahead of time, race-related as well as travel-related (plus the added fun of Covid uncertainty).  I think that would be too many people for me -- gives me anxiety just looking at the long conga line going up that big green hill.  Great job focusing on the positive and taking time to enjoy the scenery and experience.  Annoying that someone took your poles and that crew logistics were not ideal, but you figured it out, kept moving forward, and got it done.  Nice job!