X UTSM - São Mamede Ultra Trail
"In the middle of the road, there was a stone there was a stone in the middle of the road there was a stone in the middle of the road, there was a stone.
I will never forget this event in the life of my weary retinas. I will never forget that in the middle of the road there was a stone there was a stone in the middle of the road in the middle of the road, there was a stone."
- Carlos Drummond de Andrade.
 |
| Luís, Zé, Carmen, Teodoro |
The stones and the flowers.
A good metaphor for those who run in the mountains.
Throughout my chronicles, I have often used Mountain Trail Running as a metaphor for life.
Like any metaphor, it is a simplification of reality. Life is far more complex than races.
But maybe it isn't.
Could it be that we unnecessarily complicate it?
In a 100-kilometer race in the hills or mountains, lasting about a whole day, a lot happens.
Right from the first few kilometers, when I had to climb up the stairs and the trail to Cruz da Penha, I thought my pistons were going to seize. I reached the top completely out of breath, and this was just the first climb of many. It immediately crossed my mind that there was no way I would be able to complete this race.
I gradually felt stronger.
Like when we go from crawling to our first unsteady steps.
I even passed by the Carreiras Supply and Control Station (PAC). This whole stretch is done at night, with a fantastic nighttime view of the lights of Marvão on our right side.
There's a lot of medieval cobblestone that takes a toll on the feet, it's so hard.
In Castelo de Vide, at km 29, there was a small PAC, outdoors, but with enthusiastic volunteers who treated me well. I heard that there were about 8 athletes behind me.
I ate some pieces of banana, tomato with salt, a small toast with honey, took a sip of Coca-Cola, and went back into the night, heading towards PAC4 in Portagem at the foot of Marvão.
Since the beginning of the race, one of my biggest concerns was not being disqualified at any aid station for not meeting the cutoff times.
In two out of the four ultras I had participated in since the start of the 2023 season, I had reached the finish line with a half-hour delay beyond the time limit. Fortunately, both at Piódão and at the Ultra da Geira Romana, the organizations were kind and understanding enough to classify me since I met the intermediate barriers.
Note: "PAC" stands for "Posto de Abastecimento e Controle," which translates to "Supply and Control Station."
This had happened in the most recent races, after I had been sidelined with my third Covid-19 infection. Out of the three times I had Covid, I emerged weakened and greatly affected in my ability to run. Especially in terms of my cardiac and muscular capacity.
Therefore, being able to finish those 2 ultras felt like a greater accomplishment than many others I had previously achieved in much less time.
Attempting a three-digit race under these conditions seemed like an unattainable goal to me. But as the many years of experience have taught me, nothing is lost or won at the outset. Everything is resolved on the field.
And sometimes, we surprise ourselves.
Furthermore, I felt it was imperative to finish this race. This is because the true objective lay ahead, in the Grand Trail de Courmayeur , which will take place in July. That race will cover a distance of 100 km with a positive elevation gain of 7,900 meters!
Therefore, to gain confidence, I really needed to finish the 108 km with 5,500 meters of positive elevation gain in UTSM 2023.
I arrived in Portagem, km 45, at daybreak. The time barrier here was 11 hours of the race or 9 a.m. I arrived nearly two and a half hours ahead, so I had a significant buffer.
This buffer was strategic. I knew that the real difficulties would only begin from here onwards. In fact, these first 45 km are quite monotonous. Mostly wide roads and gentle inclines, accompanied by the coolness of the night.
Shortly after leaving Portagem, the first real challenges begin.
At PAC5 in Porto Espada, km 53, is where the clothing change point is located. I changed almost everything, except for my shoes and poles. Dry clothes always feel great, even though after a few kilometers, we may find ourselves soaked in sweat again.
Some time later, I arrived at S. Julião, km 71. There, I met Eduardo Santos again, who greeted me warmly.
 |
| Much later, again with Eduardo Santos |
A few kilometers later, I am overtaken by four athletes from the 50K race, moving at a fast pace. They must be going at around 10 km/h on a slight incline. They are all thin and carry very little gear to fly faster.
At the turn, I pass by Zé, from Zé's Photos. He tells me that they must have covered about 24 kilometers. It has been two and a half hours since the 9 a.m. start.
This stretch between S. Julião and S. Mamede (Cruz do Cume) is long and mostly uphill. It takes a long time to complete.
Throughout the entire race, I have been experiencing various discomforts. Sometimes my Achilles hurts, other times it's my calves, quadriceps, or feet, and so on. Thankfully, they alternate. Each pain conceals another.
Until now, I had never done a race with a weight of 83 kg. My normal weight a few years ago was around 71 kg.
The photo doesn't do me any favors, but the only thing that would favor me right now is losing 12 kg.
Finally, I reach Cruz do Cume. It's extremely hot. I eat a little and drink a lot.
Here, the 50K+ race separates from the 100K+.
We continue to the left.
Something must have gone rotten in me. The flies won't leave me alone. It's truly annoying.
The next section to Alegrete is long and tough. We encounter a steep climb on a firebreak. The heat takes its toll. There is still a breeze on the hilltops, but in the valleys, we roast.
Damn these flies! I dunk my head in water, try everything, but they won't leave me alone.
I pass and get passed by two Spanish women from Badajoz. They are much stronger than me on the uphill sections (I'm only strong in the belly). I really need to get rid of these two 5-liter water bottles I'm carrying around my waist.
On the downhill, I pass them. Firstly, because the weight doesn't bother me as much, and secondly, because they are scaredy-cats. They descend cautiously, and it becomes a comical spectacle to watch. But when the uphill begins, they have the last laugh.
Finally, we reach PAC8 in Alegrete, km 84. I am warmly welcomed by Miguel Pinho from O Mundo da Corrida. He tells me I have 5 hours to reach Reguengo, 16 km away. The problem is not the distance; the problem is the damn incline.
Suddenly, I realize my trekking poles are missing. I shout, and the Spanish women stop. One of them had mistakenly taken mine and left hers. The heat has clearly fried their brains, just like mine.
Well, there's no point in complaining. The best thing is to head towards Reguengo because the time buffer has been decreasing, and at this moment, I only have 90 minutes of buffer time left before the cutoff.
There are no words to describe the suffering on the stretch between Alegrete and Reguengo. If the race had started about 40 km earlier, it would have been a beautiful section with breathtaking views, fantastic single-track paths, meandering streams, and typical trees. But now, it's just pure suffering. Every few athletes I cross paths with have the face of a crucified Christ. Mine must look the same.
I am forced to repeatedly wet my feet in the streams. They don't have a chance to dry. This gradually causes the soles of my feet to wrinkle and create painful creases.
Night falls. I turn on my headlamp. Finally, I hear dogs barking in the distance. It's always a good sign. It means I'm getting closer to a village.
Finally, I enter Reguengo. It's now 9 p.m., and I have been racing for 23 hours. I arrive one hour before the cutoff time.
I'm descending a narrow path when I hear, "Hey, Matos!!!" I immediately recognize Francisco's voice.
I have a heavyweight RUN 4 FUN entourage waiting for me!!!
Reguengo, the last aid station before the finish line. What an amazing group of people! I have no words to describe what I felt when I experienced all this warmth, love, and excitement around me.
Guida hands me a beer. It tastes divine. It's a heavenly balm. All the care and warmth I feel around me are powerful balms that make me forget all the suffering.
But the video captured by Hugo at that moment shows the emotion better than words could ever do:
Finally, I reached the Stadium, turned around as tradition dictates, and managed to force myself into a stumbling jog.
I crossed paths with João Carlos Correia at the entrance of the stadium, heard the enthusiastic announcer cheering me on, and received the cork medal.
Crossing the finish line has a miraculous effect where we usually instantly forget all the pain of the journey.
"Human nature is such that pain and suffering - even if suffered simultaneously - do not add up as a whole in our consciousness, but rather hide, with the lesser behind the greater, according to a definite law of perspective. It is providential and it is our means of surviving in the field. And that is the reason why it is so often heard in free life that man is never content. In truth, it is not a human incapacity for a state of absolute happiness, but rather an ever-insufficient knowledge of the complex nature of the state of unhappiness; so that the single name of the principal cause is given to all its causes, which are composed and arranged in an order of urgency. And if the most immediate cause of stress comes to an end, we are surprised to see that there is another one behind it; and in reality, a whole series of others.
Therefore, as soon as the cold, which throughout the winter seemed to be our only enemy, ceased, we become aware of hunger; and repeating the same mistake, we now say: "If it weren't for hunger!..."
― Primo Levi, If This Is a Man • The Truce
Life indeed puts stones along our path.
But there are small stones, like the ones I collect during an Ultra Trail race, and there are enormous boulders that rarely fall directly on our heads.
Life is short for all of us, but the fact that we are unaware of the exact and relatively distant day when it will end is immensely protective.
But sometimes the boulder appears suddenly. In the life of someone we love. And there, all the small stones disappear. There are no small stones, no sand, no wrinkled feet, no aching knees, no battered tendons. There is only the boulder.
Life is a mysterious phenomenon, and love is a powerful force. Along the way, there are also many flowers. Let us try not to lose sight of the flowers. That is what remains for us.
 |
| Chamonix 2015 |
Comments
Post a Comment