La Marmotte: event report

Well, what can I say? I'm alive to tell the tale, so that's already something - it lived up to its reputation as the toughest of all cyclosportives and I completed the course, which around 3000 riders failed to do. Mind you, I'm still feeling the effects of the event with a bouts of hypoglycaemia. But let's rewind to the beginning...

I and two friends from my Spinning classes flew out to Geneva on the Thursday, to give us an extra day of preparation before Saturday's big event. One of my friends, Rob, has a chalet in Valmeinier (halfway up the Col du Telegraphe) and we stayed there while we assembled our bikes and tested them out the following morning with a quick climb up the Telegraphe (as one does!). Then we drove out to Alpe d'Huez going over the Telegraphe, through Valloire, over the Col du Galibier, stopping for lunch at the top of the Col du Lautaret - good reconnaisance that would come in handy during the event itself. On our arrival, Richard, who was the only one of us that was an Alpe d'Huez virgin, rode off to find out what all the fuss was about and finished looking like somebody had stuck his head in a microwave. Ha! The Alpe has its mythical reputation for a very valid reason... underestimate it at your peril!

The rest of the Friday was spent preparing the food we'd be taking with us. I estimated I'd burn 7000-8000 calories during the ride, so I'd need to take two days' worth of food if I didn't want to stop at the feed stations (see my post on the Rome marathon as to why I don't rely on them). My shoulder injury had prevented me from riding the bike for the previous three months, so I hadn't tested my energy requirements over a long ride - most of the time, I'd ride for three hours, stop for lunch, and ride back home. So not the ideal preparation for nine hours in the saddle!

On Saturday morning, we woke way too early for a civilised species! Mind you, I couldn't sleep at all, thanks to a humming noise from the nearby ice rink that penetrated even the ear plugs I'd had the foresight to bring. At least the weather had improved to be sunny and dry - so much so that, despite the fresh 7 a.m. air, the ride down to Bourg d'Oisans was rather comfortable. However, by the time we got to the start line, we'd missed our alloted slot and we were waved through by the marshals, past the large group of riders due to start behind us. As our times wouldn't begin until we crossed the start line, this worked in our favour - I'd heard that the mass start would be stressful and prone to accidents. Richard, true to form, shot off out of sight and left Rob and I to ease into the ride towards the first climb of the day.

Col du Glandon

So far, so easy - Rob and I were still riding along at an easy pace with minimal effort. I could keep this up all day! We had agreed to try to stick together most of the way around the course and, if split up, to meet at the feeding station at the top of each climb. When the road started rising upwards, I was still comfortable but soon pulled ahead of Rob without realising it, so I thought I'd keep going and then enjoy the break at the top while waiting for him. On the way to the summit, I managed to get stuck in a cyclists' traffic jam, as after a short downhill stretch the road rose up sharply but nobody had the sense to change gear ahead of time... with the result that everyone slowed to a halt. Grrrrr.... I went "cross-country" at the side of the road and passed the lot of them. Unfortunately, I found another log-jam at the top of the Col, as everyone stopped in the middle of the road for the feeding station. Aaargh! After deciding I'd be better off carrying on and waiting for Rob further on, it still took me 20 minutes just to get through. Bloody cyclists!

Col du Telegraphe

After a technical downhill section from the Glandon - where I was slowed down by an ambulance of all things! - and a long and boring flat section that I got through by drafting in a gruppetto, I reached the bottom of the Telegraphe. Without a friend to ride alongside, I was latching onto one rider on the climb until they started going too slow for me, when I would latch on to another. Eventually I found a rider from the De Ver Cycle Team in London, so we got chatting as we pushed our way past the other riders. Having him as a welcome distraction, I didn't really feel the work my legs were doing and we soon reached the top to find yet more chaos and a 30-man queue for the water refill. At this stage I stopped for various reasons: I had run out of water on the climb as I hadn't refilled on the top of the Glandon; I reckoned I was way ahead of Rob but thought I'd give him a chance to catch up; I was finding it difficult to eat anything, as I was getting stomach cramps. So, after another 30mins, I set off downhill towards the beautiful village of Valloire.

Valloire

Does anybody else still feel like going "wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee" when speeding downhill? I certainly did on the way down to Valloire - a nice long, sweeping road without any need to slow down to negotiate dangerous hairpin bends. I had to slow down through the village though, as it was packed full of supercars and everyone slowed to check them out. I saw a nice charcoal grey Ferrari 599 Floriano that made me forget I was barely halfway through the ride and still had to get past the Galibier and Alpe d'Huez. Gulp! Furthermore, the road out of Valloire is at a shallow incline, one of those roads that your brain says is flat but your legs tell you otherwise. Still, I felt good despite not being able to eat anything for a while and could only drink plain water (no energy drinks). While on this slow ascent, I saw a one-armed, one-legged man going fairly well - with his body braced into the saddle and his missing arm braced onto the handlebar, he was doing better than most people and yet using only one leg to pedal... chapeau, my friend, you're a true inspiration.

Col du Galibier

By the time I reached the bottom of the Galibier, my legs were fine but my stomach was starting to feel queasy and I was getting fed up of staying in the saddle (bear in mind that I was not used to sitting for long periods, especially given the lack of riding in the previous three months). So, when I saw a cafe with dozens of French cyclists sitting in the sun, I jumped at the chance to stop and get off the bike. I also tried to easy my stomach with several bottles of Coke and a sandwich, while soaking up the sun and watching other riders take the steep road up the Galibier. While I was enjoying my post-lunch siesta (I am Italian, after all!) an elderly man decide also to stop for a break. Nothing wrong in seeing an older man cycling - there are plenty of old "beardies" that regularly cycle past me on my training rides. However, this guy looked about a hundred years old and could barely push the bike, let alone cycle it up the Galibier. Again, chapeau monsieur!

Right. Time to get off my backside and conquer the Galibier. Shame to leave my spot but I couldn't risk not making the cut-off time at the bottom of Alpe d'Huez... all that effort for nothing! So, after an hour and a half of soft grass, it was time to sit on that saddle again. Ouch! The Galibier starts with a vicious gradient, so it was hard work from the start. Double ouch! Once I got into my rhythm, though, I was making fairly quick progress and passing everybody on the climb. Maybe it was the bottles of Coke, maybe that I was catching up all the slower riders. Either way, I felt like Marco Pantani speeding up to the summit. I knew from driving over it the previous day that there would be a nasty final Km when the gradient became even steeper, so I didn't want to push my luck. By the time I got there, though, I was going so well that I even managed to change up a gear and attack that final Km to the feeding station at the top. The Great Galibier? Pah! Easy peasy lemon squeezy!

Col du Lautaret

After yet more chaos at the feeding station, I pushed on for the long and technical downhill. The gradient drops as sharply as it rose, so I was on my brakes for a fair bit, especially as other riders weren't respecting the racing line (the quickest line through a corner - if someone cuts you up at the wrong time, you're toast). Soon, though, we arrived at the Col du Lautaret - this is where the downhill stretch continued towards Bourg d'Oisans for 40Kms with hardly a hairpin bend. Cue the large chainring and a top speed of 109Kph - woo-hoo!!! I would have done it quicker if it weren't for slow-moving traffic... not cyclists this time but the local drivers. Get out of my way, you slowcoach! Where's the damn horn on this bike....

Alpe d'Huez

I reached Bourg d'Oisans, at the bottom of Alpe d'Huez in pretty good time. I still had a chance at the silver medal based on actual time (my ride time - not including all the stops - was only 7:20). My legs were feeling good and I still had enough water, so I decided to give the feeding station a miss (it was packed, anyway - no time to waste!) and head straight out of Bourg for the road to the Alpe. With still a chance at a good time, I decided I'd attack the climb - my previous best was 1:10 and I'd only need 1:30 to get a silver medal. So I prepared myself by staying in the large chainring and used the momentum gained to overcome the "wall". Opp oppp opppp... change to lowest chainring oppppp... lowest gear... opppppp oh crap, my legs have gone! Yep, I hit the wall in both senses - the wall of Alpe d'Huez and the dreaded hypoglycaemic wall. My lack of food and energy drinks had finally taken their toll - and at a totally inappropriate time!

I managed to make it to the first bend, where I joined dozens of other riders taking a break. While drinking most of the water I had left and trying to eat something, my intuition told me to check my mobile phone. Rob had sent me a message to say he'd been sick on the way up the Telegraphe and had abandoned the race. I sent a text to Richard to relay the message and to say that I'd be taking it slow up the Alpe. Things were starting to get difficult...

The rest of the climb is a bit of a blur. I was riding purely on my stubborness to not be defeated. So long as I had breath in my lungs, I would continue to pedal... albeit at only 35rpm. I made several stops in the shaded parts and at the unofficial water stop just outside Alpe d'Huez. Thank God for these volunteers, one of whom asked if I wanted water poured on me (Oui oui oui!!! Merci beaucoup, monsieur guardian angel). That cold shock also gave me an idea - Rob had joked the previous day about using the small waterfalls alongside the road to cool off... which is exactly what I and a French rider did. We eventually found a large waterfall and we immersed ourselves completely, lowering our body temp from heat stroke to hypothermia - bliss!

Somehow, I eventually reached the final few Kms when the gradient eased off. Time to ease my way home, right? NO! Time to change to the large chainring and attack! Damned Alpe and damned stomach cramps - I'll show you what I could've done. I passed everyone else, who at this stage where nursing their way home, and pushed hard for the line. As the pro climbers say, when asked why they ride the mountains so hard, the sooner this pain was over, the better. As I crossed the line, one of the marshals tried to direct me to one side but I was almost unconscious at this point. Luckily, Richard and Rob had been waiting for me at the line (thanks, guys!) and grabbed the bike from me before I could fall over. I couldn't really focus that well, so I was glad for their help. Apparently, my face on the line was the worst they'd seen in the time they'd been waiting and they were rather worried about my health - I didn't feel too good either!

That night, after endless drinks and a nice stodgy pizza, they were glad to see that my eyes were looking better - apparently, I had several dark spots in them... not a good sign. On top of that, I was left with heat stroke, saddle rash, a boil, stiff shoulders, a constant thirst that wouldn't go away until a week later... but my legs were fine!

Would I do it again? Well, I've already checked out the website and marked next year's date in my calendar. I wouldn't miss it for the world. I'll get you next time, Alpe d'Huez! Grrrrr....

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This is the best video I've found for you to get an idea of the route, scenery, numbers of riders and camaraderie of the event. Despite the hard effort involved, it's worth doing at least once in your life - join me next year!


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