"The hills are alive... with the sound of silence..." Well, the hills were actually mountains and it wasn't so silent - there was a lot of heavy breathing amongst the sound of gears clicking down into granny. La Marmotte lived up to most of what I'd heard. And it was most certainly a monster day out.

The race is named after the Marmot, a large ground squirrel commonly seen in the Alps. It is also found on the Alpe d'Huez logo.

It all started a few months back when Colin was preparing for a 'jaunt' around the Alps and asked if I wanted to train with him. Soon after I was also entering the race, and then one fine Friday morning, I found myself driving from Chamonix, through gorgeous Alpine villages, on my way to Alpe d'Huez. Talk about making yourself nervous! We joined up with the Marmotte route at approximately the halfway point, St-Jean-de-Maurienne. Drove up Col du Télégraphe and Col du Galibier, down the valley to Bourg d'Oisans and then up the famed Alpe d'Huez. I was already exhausted! It was a huge bonus driving part of the race. I got to stop and take in the awesome scenery and snap panorama pics while I prepared mentally for what was ahead. By the time I got to those Col's the next day, I at least knew that although it looked like the top, around the corner there was another monster waiting for me. The view above Col du Galibier Registration was as ordinary as any race I've done and the goodie bags decent. Some excitement was had when I bumped into a Canadian/Danish girl I'd raced against at the Cape Epic '08 and later I bumped into a girl I'd been at school with. Before I left for France I'd decided to spend money on some form of memorabilia, so once race number and timing chip had been organised, I went in search of something that had Alpe d'Huez and a marmot on it.

The timing chip was a bit of an issue. Winning Time, who do all the PPA races here, were the same company there. Before I entered I'd phoned the chaps in Cape Town to ask if I could use my own timing chip, which they said I could. At registration, however, it turned out that I did indeed have to use one of theirs. No biggie, but now I know for next time.

Having spent the day in the car, an evening ride through town was in order, so Colin and I paraded about for a bit in our SA kit we'd bought. We cycled down the hill for a few hundred metres so we could ride up the last hairpin bend, to get some idea of what we were in store for. Ha! Not likely! Colin had arranged accommodation in the town of Alpe d'Huez itself, so early on the morning of the big day, we got to cycle down the Monster to get to the start line. 20 minutes it took me. And my brakes were nearly smoking at the bottom. The start was a bit chaotic, especially when you're used to the slick organisation of the Argus for big events. Your race number is assigned according to when you entered the race (no seeding) and they'd split the 6000-odd cyclists up into 3 start times. The race starts down the narrow main road of Bourg d'Oisans, and the mass of a few thousand people lined up was stretching far back out of town. Having entered late, I was in the last start group. I don't even know if there was a gun for our start group. Probably not, but I wouldn't have heard it anyway. When we began to move forward it took me about 10 minutes before I crossed the start line. The 'Oom-pa-pa' band was a great send off, as I pressed "Go" on my stopwatch and started racing off. They take your time from when you cross the mat, so it doesn't matter how long it takes you to get to the start line. A fact I only discovered at the end. The first 10km are flat and fast. Great to warm up and see who around you is of similar speed to hang on to. With the unseeded start it's a totally mixed bunch of strengths and it's a case of each to his own. The first climb is up Col du Glandon. 17km and 1350m of climb to the top. Having no idea how hard I should or could push myself, I kept at a decent pace, passing as many people as passed me. Looking back, I could definitely have pushed harder, considering the downhills you have for recovery. At the top of Glandon there was a narrow timing mat which we all had to cross. With the field still so close together it meant dismounting and walking to the top and the first water point. This was a complete bunfight. Crowds of cyclists pushing each other to get to food and water, exclaiming colourfully in many languages. I quickly filled up with water and ate a bit of what I had, wanting to get away from there as fast as I could. Before throwing myself off the mountain I pulled up my sleeves and donned my wind jacket. Gladly so, as it was mightily chilly racing down 1300m over a 20km stretch! Unlike the Tour de France, the roads were not closed to traffic. So as we descended at ever increasing speeds, we zoomed around hairpin bends, dodged cars going in both directions, and generally risked life and limb. Well, I was being conservative, so it was just as well I'd recently replaced my brake pads. Oh, to have had disk brakes *sigh* From the bottom of Glandon there's about a 20km stretch through a gorgeous and relatively flat valley. This was the only time I felt one had to work with others. I managed to jump onto the back of various wheels and clung on as we sped towards St-Michel-du-Maurienne. A female cyclist came past and I raced on after her until the water point at the bottom of Col du Télégraphe. Télégraphe climbs about 800m over 12km, at an average grade of 6.6%. It's a narrow road lined with trees (think Constantia Nek) that goes up the side of the valley. Switching back and forth, you wind your way up to reveal some spectacular views. It's the kind of climb where you put your gears into granny, get into position and settle in for a long grind up. By the time I got to the top I had to stop and get off my bike. I was broken! Glandon was flat compared to this! I wasn't the only one. Many people were sitting on the patches of lawn, taking in the view and lots of water. I filled up a bottle, squeezed a Gu into my mouth and pointed my bike down the short stretch into Valloire. The feeding station as we left Valloire Valloire is a gorgeous Alpine village with summer cycling routes and winter ski slopes, as is advertised on tasteful timber signboards on the way down. Just on the other side of town were signs saying "Raivitallement 1km". My French is not very good anymore, so wasn't sure what it meant. But it was clear when I got there - "refreshments". And my word, this is where the French outdid themselves. Pieces of baguette and slices of brown bread. Platters of cold meats, huge chunks of brie and other cheeses. Fat slices of fruit cake, orange quarters, Turkish apricots and glacéed pineapple. And that's only what I managed to see between all the elbows and sweaty bodies fighting for something to eat. I could have stood there for hours munching on the fruit. It had been very warm up until now, and I found the oranges extremely refreshing. Glacéed pineapple is now my new favourite race food. Eventually I had to move on and face Col du Galibier. The Big Guy. From the water point it was 15,5km climbing 1200m to the top. I found the first part to be really arduous. It felt sort of flat, although I was almost in granny the whole way. Or maybe I was the one feeling flat. By this stage I'd spoken briefly to one or two people, mainly as they had commented on my SA top. I tried to strike up a conversation with two lads from London, but they weren't particularly interested in talking. No one was really. It was here I was singing "The hills are alive" to myself; in this relative silence of cyclists grinding and grunting their way to the top. And what hills they were!! The top of the climb is at 2645m above sea level, and even though it was summer, there was still ice on the peaks. As we climbed higher and higher you could reach out your hand and touch an ice block. Madness! But oh so beautiful. As we got higher and steeper I found it a bit easier as I was fighting these nasty climbs, not slugging it out on the initial 'boring' sections. I stopped twice on the way up to take in the view and drink some water. On top of Col du Galibier, snowy peaks surrounding us The top of Galibier wasn't as crowded as previous stops, but they were running low on water, so we were all rationed one bottle each. But that was fine, as it was all downhill from here! Once again I pulled up my sleeves and put on my wind jacket. A few hairpin bends down and I was wishing I'd had more to put on, it was freezing! It took me 1hr20 to cover the 48km to get to the bottom of Alpe d'Huez. It was ALL downhill, flying around corners, navigating dimly lit tunnels and screaming past cars. The tunnels were great fun, I came out of each one with a silly grin on my face. Definitely a time to enjoy the scenery and let the legs recover. I was having a brilliant time and felt good, so pushed harder, thinking it was a good time to now tackle the Monster and get this over with. And so it began. The climb of all climbs. The countdown of 21 hairpin bends. The 10% gradients. The graffiti on the tarmac. The supporters lining the roads. The sun beating down and sweat dripping off nose and elbows. Stopping on the hairpins where it's flat, to be able to drink. Grunting, grinding and swearing under your breath. Colin was now far from my favourite person! I just wanted it to end. Then I made the mistake of looking up, and it just carried on, and on, and on. Waaaay up the top you can see the town with the steep zigzag road leading up to it. It felt like everyone was cycling past me, but I then noticed how many others were collapsing at the edges. Up some of the stretches were streams of what looked like lovely fresh and cool water. I was not going to attempt to stop at one of these, like so many were doing, as I doubted I would be able to get back on my bike and get going on the slope again. So on I pushed, wishing even more that it would end and cursing quietly. Slowly but surely I got to the point where I'd cycled from the night before, so I knew I was almost there. I tried to pick up some pace, but don't think it really registered on my watch. Another woman edged her way past me, and I hung on to her for the last 2km, just to have something to fight for. I tried to sprint past her in the last few hundred metres, but misjudged the distance and couldn't hold the pace. Doesn't matter anyway, I had reached the finish line!!! I very gingerly dismounted and found a spot to sit down and have a moment. It had taken me 1hr37 to climb Alpe d'huez. That's an hour slower than the Tour de France chaps!!

For the first time ever, I finished a race and said to myself: "I don't know if I really want to do that again!"

I made my way to the food and drinks, handed in my timing chip and queued for my diploma. You don't get a medal, you get a certificate with Gold/Silver/Bronze printed on it with your name and other details. Depending on your category (male/female, age, etc) the times vary for each diploma category. For me, in women aged 18-34, my time of 9hr41 was good enough for Gold, and I walked away from the table feeling a bit drizzy. For the first time all day I felt I had really accomplished something quite extraordinary. I eventually found Colin's family and we waited together for him to finish. His is another story. But he finished :) Later we demolished a packet of chips to replace all the salts lost, then went for hamburgers and passed out on our beds. The next morning I was up at 5am to drive to Geneva and fly back to London. I think it took me longer to drive down Alpe d'Huez than it did to cycle down it! All in all, what a race, what a day and what a landscape!!! Fantastic stuff. Was it worth it? Oh yeah. Quite an experience. I have a whole new respect for the Tour de France. Would I do it again? Now that I've recovered, yes, why not. It deserves a stronger attack. I spent the first half being conservative with my energy, nervous that I'd bonk up the last climbs. The altitude was also an unknown for me and I still don't know how much of an effect it had on me. All I know is that I did feel strangely flat most of the time. The race started at approximately 750m above sea level. Tokai Mast is at 900m. So I'm used to finishing a climb at the altitude I was starting a 1300m climb at! I don't think I'd travel all that way to race it again. But I'll do it if I'm in the area. Although now that I've seen the Alps, I'm very keen to take my mountain bike there to go and play...

My Race Stats Dist: 180km Ascent: 4820 Avg speed: 19.6 Max speed: 69.3 (I was conservative with the hairpin bends and oncoming traffic!) Temp avg: 24 Temp min: 11 Temp max: 35 KCal: 5020 (I think this is the max I've ever burned in one day) Time up Alpe d'Huez: 1hr 37 Overall time: 9hr41 Overall position: 2789 out of 5300 Category position (Women 18-34yrs): 14 out of 60 Overall women: 37 of 164 (can you believe only 164 women competed!?!)