CR Sierre Zinal 2016

Does the Pope shit in the woods?
Yeah probably not but we sure as hell did!

Roughly 80minutes to race time and there we were skwatting in our runners off the trail of a wooded park 5min from the starting line. Sure urinals and porta potties had been provided and were at our disposal but hell, I mean if you are already planning on spending half the day running outdoors up a fucking mountain might as well get comfortable with nature all over again. Starting with the basics: an open air shit with foilage for paper.

And so that's how my day began last Sunday. Before deciding to climb 2200m in one push. With one big majestic dump in the woods. Kinda not your usual routine you might say. God damn right.

Now this was after a very shitty and very short night spent trying to fall asleep but getting up to piss all the time and when finally asleep having weird dreams I could spend a lifetime trying to understand. ( I was even getting puked on by some student at one point).

Yeah I know what you're thinking. All  this focus on bodily functions for a race recap is kinda weird no? Well, let me tell you, when you prepare for something like this the only thing you're almost always thinking about is bodily functions. Am I hungry?  Am I tired? Do I sleep now? What happens if I go faster? Do I need to piss. Can I hold it in ? Should I take another sip? You get the idea.


And so, after months of training, Sunday morning finally crept up on us and dared to show us the full glory of a scorchin' August summer day in the Swiss Alps.  Sun lighting up the valley in a soft morning glow. The distant peaks just breeching the first rays of golden pink heat. Cloudless skies and blazing suns galore.

  We got up at 0630. Painfully.  Friday's 1000m warm up climb still heavy in our legs. Damn. We're really gonna feel this one today boys. We brace and tense.  Shower. Dress. Eat. Morning zombie mode but the banter begins and we swallow a nutritious breakfast (mostly just cofee, juice, cod liver on toast with lemon , and spoonfuls of chia seeds), joke around, freak out and then at 0730 hop on a bus with the gang. In our humble company :
_ Big Bro Badass Lord Nelson, part time zerozapper full time savior.
_ Senior "crossfit" Sorensen, the mighty great Dane from NY, USA.
_ And last but not least his Majesty mister Takeshi Parfonsk straight outta Lisbon and Glutenhagen DK. The legend. The beast. The man to beat.

(basically my bro and two college buddies for those of you who may have missed a beat)

Bus parks. We jump out and at 0815 there we were on the outskirts of Sierre with an hour and a half to kill before crunch time.

By 0830 two fresh turds were fuming in the cool morning air.

0845 : we make for the starting area. Pro runners everywhere are warming up. One in every thirteen of them won't see the finish line. That's how hard this thing is.

We loiter for a good half hour watching others. Boosting ourselves. Staring at the mountain. Lots of dudes. Not many chicks. Maybe 20℅. We catch a glimpse of Jonathan Wyatt from NZ trotting by slowly. Dude holds the course record. Only person in the world to have run the race in under two and a half hours. 13 years later his record still holds. He'll finish 17th today in 2 hours and 44minutes. Dude's pushing 45. I wet myself. Mentally at least. We are not worthy. Dude is not from this earth.

By 0940 we take our places at the back of the runners line. Completely at the back. All 1200 elites ahead of us. Itching to let fly.

5 minutes to race time a sexy voice announces.

People stirring left and right.
Already a crowd is forming around our starting grid. The audience cheers.

It's gonna be hot.
It's gonna be crowded.
It's gonna be hard.
It might even be dangerous.

Gentlemen set your watches.

30 seconds to ignition!

I snap this selfie:

Ca ne zap aps.

The rest never happened.

The rest is most definitely a dream.

Words don't suffice. As I said to Nelson when we split  after this epic weekend : "it's hard not to believe a part of us didn't die up there on that mountain... Only to be reborn stronger as we rolled downhill out of its fucking jaws and to the finish line. Such a rush. What a an absolute mental trip! So happy we'll be sharing the memories for a million years."

Yeah. No never happened. Most definitely a dream.

* * *

They say you sleep like a baby after. Bullshit. I couldn't. I felt high for a day. Excited like on shrooms. Sure close your eyes. What's it matter. You're still wide awake. Your body is screaming for that mountain. It fucks with your head. Now your brain will fuck with you. So yeah by all means. Lay back. Get some shut eye. Watch as you see yourself on that mountain. Right foot over left foot. Left foot over gravel. Right foot in the sand. Right foot in the mud. Left foot in the air. Pine cones and dry rock. Pine needles and oak roots. Listen now to the silence shouting sounds of crashing streams and rythmic collective breathing, and rythmic collective strides. Remember the feel of the heat, the relief of the shaded forest? The thinning air. Oxygen depleting.  Again and again. Over and over again. Not one second of REM sleep that first night after the race. Just sheer joy, pride and excited relief. Like a kid before Christmas.

Wasn't before going out for a short fix/run yesterday around noon that my brain connected back with itself. This is where it's happy it's saying. Pumping all kinds of hormones for effort management. Itch soothed at once. The  addiction is there. The severance is real and the OD is welcome.  Thirsty now. But holding off for now. We ain't through yet. No way I ain't going back for more.

EDIT: Here's the dropbox link with all the photos my dad took.

Zéro