Between Worlds

Notes from Chamonix

Chamonix hits different. A patent blend of active glaciation, great peaks, and amusement park. Itself for the commingling of these worlds.

On the trails there is no escaping the smell of sunblock, the garble of American English. Rapidly descending through mobs of startled tourists, I have something like an allergic reaction to the whole thing as if such commerce were sacrilege. But who am I? More holy for going fast?

Back at the apartment, hunched over a bowl of rice with chicken and peppers, I watch angry clouds billow over Mont Blanc. The valley goes dark and the roof drums with rain. Thunder breaks in a tremendous volley. Rice is good.

But I digress. The real quest was to reacquaint myself with the terrain and log some work. In 7 days (2 halved by travel) I ran 208km (130 miles) and climbed 13450m (440000 ft) in 26h. 

Not bad, but you know I’ve been feeling a bit run down lately. Since December I’ve only taken 3 chill weeks (new years, post-MIUT, post-Andorra). Although I’ve tried to curb the urge for more, I am a bit cooked. Better to say it aloud and treat it, than make believe.

I did my best to respect these sensations while training. Frequently letting off the gas, going hiker, stopping at various refuges for food (notably an excellent polenta around Lac Combal near Courmayeur), and remembering this is not race day, far from it, and I must meet myself where I am.

Salt: a cheap offering to the mountain gods.

A big part of my running progression has involved training through pain and fatigue. In a culture which seems increasingly bent towards ‘listening to the body,’ I will only meet it half-way because the alternative is eating cake donuts and chicken wings and body surfing in Kauai.

This is my choice to be a professional runner, to make the requisite sacrifice and embrace the toil. And Chamonix affirms this, I freaking love being in the mountains and wearing myself out.

The village is heavily populated with pro climbers and skiers and attracts thousands of aspirants, noticeable for the unscathed fluorescent gear. At times, it’s easy to forget your place, take yourself a little too seriously.

Put the noise and vanity aside. Remember that the mountains barely felt us, yet we are broken by 1 day’s effort. Chamonix delivers.