We were in Italy to take on the 100km Dolomites Extreme Trail. A 10pm start meant race day was the longest of days. Trying to stay relaxed, drifting onto other thoughts, but constantly interrupted by remembering it was all going to kick off at 10pm. When we finally started to get ready at 8:30pm, things came together; I felt focused and ready for it. I had my 38th pee of the day and headed to the start.
The town was fun, there was a big crowd, and the atmosphere was good. We walked up to the start line, which is on a bridge in the middle of town. After a race briefing in a mix of Italian and English, we were off. It was awesome. We were part of a river of 400 flashing red lights flowing through the town. We followed the main road down through a tunnel, then onto some singletrack.
We hit the first climb of the day early, and it was a big one with 5,000ft of gain. Going was steady as it was busy and mostly on singletrack. This was fine, being slowed down by others prevented the typical over-excited, silly early pace.
We’d occasionally catch a view of the famous Dolomite peaks, huge towers in silhouette against a dark blue sky. The scale of them was obvious, but I was glad we couldn’t see them fully, as even in the dark they were intimidating.
The route was slow. Every step had to be placed carefully. A mixture of incredible rooty, loose, greasy and steep trails meant going had to be steady. Many parts of the route were extremely remote, without any conceivable way of getting off the route quickly if there had been any issues. Slow and steady wins (completes) the race. The slow progress was frustrating at times, but this is what we’d signed up for. Extreme by name…
The sky started to brighten at around 5am, just as Domi and I lost the route and descended into a valley which we then had to climb out of. Matt, who’d stopped for a pee, had followed the correct route. All was well when we regrouped at the 20-mile aid station, by which time the torches were in the bag. Twenty miles was the first cut-off point of the day; we were two hours ahead of it, so it was nice to get an idea of where we were in the race.
The section between aid stations 20 and 25 miles was horrendous. A very rooty and bouldery traverse turned into a steep climb with chest-high scrambles and then a slippery descent. This five-mile section took us over two hours. At the end of it, I was feeling pretty battered, and there was 35 miles and 13,000ft of climbing left. This brief moment of reality was soon talked down, and I was back to short-term focus, getting to the next feed station. Small chunks, please.
We all ate well. The dried fruit and nut bag I’d prepared had worked well early on, and gels were going in, but I was now much preferring to eat the salami and bread from the aid stations. The salami which was sitting in the sun was melting and they turned into these super soft chewy salty energy discs. SO GOOD. Another feed station game changer was the orzo and vegetable broth. It was super salty and hit the spot every time. My flexi cup was getting a hammering, cola mixed with foliage from my various falls, topped up with soup. The feed station crew didn’t bat an eyelid.
After the big last climb of the day, we thought we were home and dry. We even thought we might finish in daylight. How wrong we were. The little bumps on the race chart which were printed on our race bibs turned out to be stupidly steep climbs and descents, 1000ft up, 1000ft down, repeat until cooked.
Our group spirit was unbroken, but we did some fine moaning. Caught between knowing we weren’t going to quit but facing another two hours on the trails and being awake for over 36 hours leaves you in an odd mental state. To pass the time we took it in turns trying to decide what the opening line of our letter of complaint to the race directors was going to be… none of which can ever be repeated.
The group mentality had actually been good all day, we worked really well together. Domi, Matt, and I were experienced enough to know not to be too negative: internally rationalising fully negative thoughts, but offering sympathy where needed to the occasional expression of feeling tired, hot, or whatever.
The final five miles dragged on. At one point we had a clear view of the finish line, but we were diverted back into the hills for one last beating. The final descent, which included 35% slope concrete slab, was the final kick in the teeth.
We emerged back into the town fully broken, but somehow still running.
We crossed the line at 12:06. This had been my first full 24-hour day of running. Thinking about the finish line during the day had made me feel quite emotional, but when I crossed it I felt pretty numb to it all. It was great seeing the friends who’d made it down to clap us in, and of course thanking Matt and Domi for their help all day was a big deal, but I just wanted to curl up and sleep.
The reality of what we’d done has slowly sunk in since. I think it’s a high tide mark for myself as a runner. In 2023 I completed the 100 mile Arc of Attrition in Cornwall, but the terrain in the Dolomites was next level and made it harder to complete than the Arc. The few Ironman Wales races I’ve completed are a walk in the park against this type of event.
We finished in 26 hours and 6 minutes. 64 miles and 21,000ft of elevation gain. Placing 215th out of 278 finishers with 78 runners DNF’ing. Congratulations to Dave Ryan who finished 6th overall and for Martin E for running solo all day and finishing in 140th place.
Congratulations to Steve P and James G too who completed the 70km route, each of whom had their own ‘moments’ but ultimately worked well as a team to get to the finish line.
Huge thanks to Caz and Carz for their help, especially at the finish line. They looked after us well after a big day of Via Feratta’ing themselves. It was great to hang out with Dave R for a few days, who was in the same B&B as us. Seeing him prepare for the race as a pro was very insightful. Apparently elite performance is powered almost entirely by Haribo.
The Dolomites Extreme Trail 103k is an absolute kicking in one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever run. Somewhere between the chest-high scrambles, the melted salami, the complaints we definitely won’t be sending, and the final concrete descent from hell, I somehow decided I’d recommend it to anyone.
Tim
