Ben Nephew Takes 16th at IAU World Trail Challenge

Last weekend Team Inov-8's Ben Nephew ran solid on the difficult alp trails in France placing 16th overall. Read Ben's report below.


IAU World Trail Challenge 7/12/2009
Trail des Cerces
Serre Chevalier, France

I’ve been avoiding writing this race report. I think it is because I’m worried that if I write the race report, it will mark the end of our experience in Serre Chevalier. Well, I’m home now and back to work, so I guess I’ll write my report. I’ll focus on the race itself, as trying to document the whole race weekend would amount to a small book. The course consisted of 42 miles of mostly singletrack trails over 3 major mountain passes with 10,500 ft of climbing at elevations from 6000 to 9500’ for most of the race. There were only 3 aid stations. I was expecting the race to be my hardest challenge yet, but I still underestimated how difficult the course was.

1. Trail des Cerces profile. It’s harder than it looks.

I woke up at about 2am to get ready for the 5am start. After 2 croissants with jam, 48 oz of extra strong Gatorade, and about 12 oz of coffee, I was off to the dark starting area. There were several hundred people there, and Matt Lonergan, the other American entrant, and I had a hard time making our way to the championship start. Before long, the race was off into the dark down a wide dirt path that was packed shoulder to shoulder with runners, some of them with sharp trekking poles strapped to their packs. The race went out at a solid pace, but it actually wasn’t as hard as the North Face 50 mile in NY earlier this spring. Matt went straight to the front, which wasn’t that far from the large main pack of 30-40 runners, and I settled somewhere around 30th place. The first 11k consisted of a gradual climb on wide paths, and at one point, I was up to 5th when I went under a rope that everyone else went around, passing at least a dozen runners. Apparently, this section of the course was the prelude.

As soon as we headed under a bridge to begin the real climb to the Col du Galibier, the pack splintered. I was pretty amazed at how fast the lead runners where hammering up the switchbacks. I just tried to settle into my own pace. As I passed Matt, who was backing off the pace, I wondered if I was pushing too hard given the altitude. I do most of my training at about 80ft above sea level, so I knew I was going to have a hard time with the some the climbing at altitude. Sure enough, the higher we climbed on the Galibier, the more I was passed. The first aid station was at 19k, near the last steep mile or so to the Col. The last 500’ were much steeper than I expected from the pictures from the course, and I used my hands quite a few times. Now that the sun was up, the scenery was incredible. The views were so immense; it was hard to actually process what I was seeing, almost to the point of disorientation. Reaching the top at 8,800’ after 3,800’ of climbing, we had a nice ridge run before starting a 3000ft descent that averaged 13%.


2. The real race starts up the Galibier. Matt Lonergan is in the background.

3. The final pitch to the Col du Galibier.

Think racing down Mt. Washington on the hiking trails. It was at this point that I realized that most of the pictures from the course were of the easier sections. The footing was not extremely difficult, but it was not all the super smooth Alpine paths I had seen in the photos. The other thing I realized was that the French locals could really run trails, the harder the better. I think some of those guys have mountain goat DNA. Although I held my own on that first long downhill, it was pretty rough on my quads. The trails were much firmer than what I run on in New England.


4. Starting the descent of the Galibier

After a few kilometers of flatter, rocky trails, we headed up about 2,500’ to 8,250’. This section was challenging due to the combination of runable sections and hiking sections. I was constantly switching back from running to walking, and it was very easy to kill your quads by running a few seconds up a section where you should be walking.


5. Climbing to the Col de Rochilles.

It was interesting to see the runner I was with trying to work out quad cramps right when my quads were began to cramp as well, despite all my pre-race Gatorade. I had put two Nuun tablets in my water bottles at the first aid station, so I took in as much fluid as a could, and tried to run through the cramps. Given that we were not even halfway through the race at 3 hours, and the hardest climb was coming, I was worried to say the least. Fortunately, the electrolytes from my Nuun tablets must have helped, as my quads totally stopped cramping a few miles later. It also helped to have some amazing views of three alpine lakes as we passed the Col de Rochilles. The next aid station was at 39k, which marked the beginning of the most ridiculous climb I’ve ever done.

6. Not a bad spot to go for a run.

As I looked up ahead, I could not figure out how the hell we were going to get out of the valley we were in without a helicopter. We were surrounded by huge mountain walls. From 40-42k, we climbed over 1,800.’ This is where the hiking poles came into play, although most of the top runners did not run with them. As I watched people pass me, they did seem to help; I almost stole a set from one runner out of curiosity! To make things more interesting, as we climbed up and past another alpine lake, the trail turned into a 6 inch wide indent that cut sideways across a 45 degree slope of loose talus. A slip would have led to a fall of 100-200’ down into the ice-cold lake. The final section of the climb was a genuine rock scramble where you were using your hands as much as your feet.


7. Marking the course up the rock scramble to the Col des Beraudes.

There was no time to rest at the 9500’ Col des Beraudes, as we were immediately directed down into a couloir that had ropes for the first 100’ or so. The reason the ropes are there is to prevent traumatic brain injuries from uncontrolled falls. As I concentrated on staying upright, and held onto the ropes, tightly, two locals came flying down the rocks without even touching the ropes. Insane. I like to think I’m a decent downhill runner, but these guys were just crazy. We dropped about a 1000’ in the first kilometer of descent. I held my own on the downhill once we got past the ropes, but my legs suffered once again from the pounding, and I struggled to maintain a fast pace on the runable sections of flat and downhill terrain from 43-55k.

8. A slightly technical section.

Here is another section where the course was deceptively hard. The trail to the Col du Chardonnet looks like a very gradual uphill. At 8,500’, all hills become significant if you are not acclimated. To make things more difficult, this 2k section was covered by shoebox-sized blocks of talus. It was a struggle to maintain any sort of running pace. There were two quite exciting moments on this short 2k section. The first was when I slipped crossing a hardened snow field and dropped about 20 ft. If I hadn’t have been able to stop, I would have slid about 300 ft down the snow into a pile of boulders. It definitely got my adrenaline flowing!


9. The snow field I fell on.

Soon after this section, I was greeted by a friendly Alpine ranger on a section of trail that passed over a cliff ledge that dropped about 500ft. I am guessing his job was to call the helicopter to pick up the body. It’s unlikely any sort of rescue would be necessary. When I got to the Col, I actually stopped to turn around to take in the view, which was absolutely spectacular.

The next 8k of downhill was runable, but by this point, the race was pretty spread out, and I felt very isolated at times in such impressive terrain. I did run past several groups of hikers in this section who were all very supportive. Throughout the race, people seemed to be very excited by my USA singlet, and I received so many, “Go USA,” and, “Yes We Can” cheers that I lost count. Some say the French are not that friendly to American tourists, but I can’t identify with that sentiment. I felt very welcome during my entire stay in Serre Chevalier, and especially so during the race.

My legs were getting pretty tired by the time I hit the last aid station at 53k somewhere around 7 hours into the race. I had hoped to be much closer the finish by this time, and was worried about how I would handle the last 1900’ climb from 55-60k. I ended up hitting the aid station with several other runners, and we all seemed to take our time refueling for the last 15k. I was really sick of drinking the provided sports drink, so I filled a water bottle with Coke, and put two Nuun electrolyte tablets in.

I left the aid station feeling much better, and was able to catch up with three other runners, a Swede and two French runners. After a couple of kilometers of climbing, I followed the Swede around the locals, and tried to stick with him up the last section of the climb. I didn’t have enough left in my legs, and he slowly began to pull away. I’m not sure who was up there, but an English speaking gentleman yelled down that we were only 50 meters from the top of the Col de Buffere, and I replied that I only had 50 meters of climbing left in me! I passed a Belgian runner right at the top, and tried to get my legs going for the last 8k of downhill to finish. The problem was, the faster I went, the more my quads hurt. About half of this downhill section was on hard pack dirt roads, which was bringing tears to my eyes with each stride. I spotted the Swede on a couple of longer stretches, but could not reel him in. I also noticed a couple of runners about a minute behind me with about 6km to the finish.


10. Section of dirt road in the last downhill 8k.

Although I was confident that I didn’t need to push the pace on the final descent, I did anyway. There were two reasons for this. I was worried that my wife, Stephanie, would be wondering where I was after 8 hours on the trail, and I had delusional thoughts that I could catch some runners.

It was very warm down in the Valley as I wound down the switchbacks in the last 5k to the finish. The last sections of the trail were some the nicest of the course, as I finally got onto some soft forest trails.


11. Finally some soft trails!

I ended up with a time of 8:30:40, which was less than a minute behind the Swede, Rickard Seger. Surprisingly, the there was no one within 6 minutes behind me. My place was 16th, and based on the start list, about 25% of the men’s field dropped out at some point. After getting some fluids, I headed back onto the course to wait for Matt to finish. I’m not sure what the temperature was, but I can tell you that the tar was melting on the roads. Every single runner that came down the road had the same look on their face: they were gritting their teeth, most likely from the pain in their quads. As Matt ran by in 21st place, he gave me a look and a low five, and we knew exactly how each other felt. We were both very happy to have survived such a challenging course. I rarely consider finishing a notable achievement, but while I’m happy with my place, I’m just as happy to have survived the course. It was the hardest race either of us has ever done.

12. Approaching the finish.



13. 100% pure French Alpine dirt. I took some of the trail home with me.

I couldn’t have run as well without Steph’s help. She took care of our son Gavin and allowed me to focus on the race on Friday and Saturday, in addition to many other race weekends throughout the year. Gavin was an integral part of my training, as he happily sat in his pack or jogging stroller on many training hikes and runs. Bringing 40 pounds of solid baby 4300’ down Mt. Washington after racing up the mountain was ideal training for the Trail des Cerces. The race organizers did a tremendous job, and although this championship is very young, I think all the athletes felt extremely honored to represent their countries due to the efforts of the many individuals involved with the race. It was truly a memorable event. I have to thank Howard Nippert and the USATF MUT council for providing the opportunity to compete in France. I also appreciated the performance of my Roclite 320’s, as my feet were in perfect shape after the race. Although I was sore, we did a family hike the day after the race, and several more during the remainder of our vacation in Serre Chevalier.

While I’d like to compete in the IAU Trail Challenge again, I might just switch to coaching. I have one prospect that exhibits tremendous potential….


14. Gavin doing a hill workout.



15. Au revoir, Serre Chevalier!