Courmayeur is a quaint little town tucked up in the most northern part of Italy at the foot of Mont Blanc, or “Monte Bianco” as they say in Italian. It has a very unique charm with its stone scalloped roofs, cobblestone alleyways, bright pink and red flower pots, and dramatic peaks surrounding it. What a dream it was to spend some time exploring that little slice of paradise! I came up with all kinds of fun training routes that incorporated the beginning and end of the Tor loop, and often ended at the gelato shop.

I spent my second week in Italy scouting the first 110 miles of the course “fast-packing” style, which technically speaking, is the Alta Via 2 Trail. The Tor Des Geants course is made up of two popular trekking routes, the Alta Via 1 and 2 of the Aosta Valley. The two trails sit parallel to each other, crossing the mountains on either side of the valley, and together, forming the TDG loop. There are mountain huts or “rifugios” seemingly in the middle of nowhere for hikers to stay along both routes, which are also aid stations during the race. They provide a hot, three course meal, bed, breakfast, packed lunch (or “picnic,” as they say), and even a shower if you’re willing to pay a little extra. I don’t know about you, but that’s my kind of backpacking! I stayed in five rifugios and two hotels along the way, and it might have been even more fun than the actual race (or at least quite a bit more comfortable)! Sleeping is nice.

I set out on the steep trail to Col d’ Arp on a rainy, foggy morning. There were no views to speak of as they were all covered in clouds, but I did come across the largest and most beautiful pink flower field I’ve ever seen. I must have spent 20 minutes just staring in awe and taking loads of photos… something I certainly wouldn’t have the time for during the race.

I spent my first night on the Tor course at Rifugio Deffeyes, which is about 18 miles with over 8,000 feet of elevation gain from the start in Courmayeur. I arrived cold and wet after walking in the rain for 8 hours. I made my choice from a row of bunk beds in the shared dormitory and laid down for a short nap while I waited for the sound of the 7pm dinner horn. The first course was a plate of pasta with tomato sauce, except I didn’t know that was just the first course. I was extremely hungry and thought that was all we were getting. I topped my pasta with a mountain of parmesan and gratefully accepted the second scoops they offered until I was feeling sufficiently satisfied. Of course, that’s right when they brought out the main course of polenta (a traditional Italian cornmeal porridge), a piece of roasted venison, and green beans all followed by a custard of sorts for dessert. I remembered to go easy on the pasta after that.

The second day held some of the most beautiful parts of the entire course with alpine lakes, massive glaciers, and stunning high mountain passes that were well-earned, especially with the backpack. I completed another 18 miles to my second refuge, Rifugio L’Epée, with 7,000 feet of elevation gain.

Day three was slightly shorter than the others, 16 miles with 6,000 feet of gain over the Col Fenêtre and Col Entrelor. Something unique about hiking in Europe is that they have these yellow signs marking the trails that also include time predictions for how long it should take the average person to hike to a certain destination whether that be the top of a col, refuge, town/village, etc. I think I was over-served on coffee because boy did I have the zoomies that morning. I started playing a little game with myself, racing those yellow signs to see if I could beat the time predictions. Wired on a literal soup bowl of caffe americano, I flew up the steep climb to the Col Entrelor over an hour and a half faster than the time prediction, and it might have even been faster than my split during the race.

Thanks to my little game, I had all the time in the world to enjoy the descent down to my destination for night three, the Hostellerie Du Paradis in the village of Eaux Rousses. I stopped for a picnic next to a bright blue alpine lake, soaking in the beauty and long-awaited sunshine after all the clouds and rain. I walked through pastures full of grazing cows and their chiming bells. It was an incredible section, and I’m so glad I got to thoroughly enjoy it as I would later pass by in the cover of night during the race.

The Hostellerie Du Paradis, which translates to “The Paradise Inn,” was properly named. I shouldn’t be complaining because the rifugios are a major step-up from traditional tent camping, but it was so nice to have a clean, quiet room all to myself, take a long hot shower, eat a Magnum ice cream bar, and catch-up over Facetime with my boyfriend, Sheldon, while I waited for dinner. I didn’t have much in the way of cell service for the last couple of days, so I hadn’t talked to Shel outside of a quick text to let him know that I was still alive. The dinner was a fixed menu and probably the best food of the entire trip. They served huge portions of gnocchi, polenta, a cheesy tomato eggplant dish, and fresh bread. There was also some sort of cake for dessert, which I was sad to miss, but I think they would have had to roll me out of there if I had eaten even one more bite.

I started my 4th morning with the most incredible breakfast spread and a cappuccino before starting the long climb to Col du Loson. It was my “easy” day, just 12 miles with 6,000 feet of gain to Rifugio Sella on the other side of the pass. There wasn’t a single cloud in the sky and the mountains looked especially beautiful in the morning light. I even passed by an Ibex grazing in the meadow next to a roaring alpine stream. It was nothing short of magical.

I was welcomed by a frigid wind when I crested the top of Col du Loson, the highest point of the Tor sitting just under 11,000 ft. I added on the short little scramble to the Punta del Tuf for an extraordinary view before hurrying down from the windy col to Rifugio Sella. I arrived hours before dinner, so I got to sit and enjoy the afternoon sun paired with a homemade blueberry tart. What a treat!

I set out early the next morning for the long descent to the town of Cogne, where I stopped at a cafe for a pick-me-up cappuccino. I was going to need it, I had a long 20 mile day with 5,000 ft of gain over the Col di Champorcher and down to the Misérin Refuge where I would be staying that night. It felt very remote and barren in that section. I hardly saw any people and the hot sun was beating down relentlessly. Finally, a trail runner blew past, the first person I had seen all day. I watched him effortlessly prance away feeling a little envious. The backpack was getting old at this point and I was antsy to run, but I do think backpacking is a very underrated training stimulus for these long, multi-day ultras. The extra weight builds strength and it’s a great way to get more time on foot. Plus, in this case, it was the most practical way for me to see the course without a rental car.

The Miserin Refuge sat next to an alpine lake and an old stone church that was apparently used as a hospice for pilgrims back in the 17th century. After a hot shower, I sat and dipped my feet in the Lago di Miserin, enjoying the peace, quiet, and sunshine. Dinner started with the simple, but delicious plate of pasta and tomato sauce. All of the rifugios served it for the first course, so it must have been a tradition of some sort. I remembered to only have one serving of pasta this time—mashed potatoes, deer stew, and a beautifully presented pavlova followed after.

Now for the infamous section that is known for being everyone’s least favorite part of the entire Tor course, and for good reason. The sixth day was a long 20 miles with 8,000 feet of descent to the floor of the Aosta Valley in the town of Donnas, the half-way point of the Tor Des Geants loop. It looks like a gentle downhill grade on paper, so you’d think it would be a quick-moving section, but it is actually quite technical with lots of rocks and roots to navigate. It winds through the trees for what feels like an eternity, so it doesn’t offer much of a distraction from the monotony. I still found some beauty in it though, the lush green of the leaves and moss, old stone bridges, and some of the little villages I passed through were quite charming. It certainly wasn’t as exciting as the high mountain sections, but we had to cross to the other side of the valley somehow.

I arrived hot and sweaty (and probably very smelly!) to the little bed & breakfast I booked in Donnas. There were only four rooms in the B&B and the family who owned it lived upstairs. An older man was there to greet me at the door who didn’t speak a word of English. He showed me to my room, rambling an Italian monologue I couldn’t understand a single word of, but I just kept smiling and saying “grazie mille.” With a little help from Google translate, he told me where the breakfast was for the next morning, and also let me know that his son would be there later that evening who speaks English if I needed anything. He was very kind and welcoming despite the language barrier.

I took a nice long shower, put on the one clean outfit I had left in my bag, and headed out to find some pizza and gelato for dinner. When I returned back to the B&B, the English-speaking son was sitting outside on the porch. He asked if I needed anything and what I was doing in the Aosta Valley coming all the way from the United States. I explained that I was training for a race, but didn’t mention the name. He knew right away, “Oh the Tor Des Geants!!!” He was very excited and seemed to know all about the Tor even though he wasn’t a runner himself. “It will be an incredible experience for the life,” he said. Later on during the race, I actually got an email from the owners of the B&B saying, “Go Annie! B&B Mandoue’s got your back!! Give it your all!” I was very touched to receive that message.

I had originally planned to end my course scout in Donnas and take the bus back that next morning to Courmayeur, but I had heard the rumors of how difficult that climb was out of the valley. I decided to add on one more day just to see what all the fuss was about. I was able to get a very last minute booking at the Coda Refuge, which was just 11 miles up the mountain from Donnas, but with over 8,000 feet of climbing. The very nice old Italian man made me two of his famous cappuccinos at the B&B before I headed up the steep trail filled in with rocks and roots, and weaving up through small villages.

It grew windy and cold once I popped up above treeline and my clothes were soaked with sweat. I was chilled to my core by the time I reached the refuge and was very much looking forward to a hot shower. Unfortunately, I arrived to news that there was no shower available. However, I did get a small room with a single bunk bed all to myself. I had slept in a shared dormitory full of hikers in all of the other rifugios, and was woken up at least once per night by snoring or someone loudly getting up to use the toilet around 3am. Despite the shower, I was living in luxury with my private room. I bundled up in a wool blanket and talked to Shel over Facetime with the surprisingly good cell signal. Before dinner started, I also had a chance to walk out to the small alpine lake just outside the refuge. There were sheep grazing in the field next to it, and the sunset over all the mountains I had just spent the last week hiking through was absolutely spectacular. The perfect finale to my little adventure. Now I just had to do it all in one push, plus another 100 miles of mystery trail ahead. :-)

My first run after the hut trip felt like I had rockets under my feet. I did a little workout up the wall of a trail to the beautiful Lago Di Liconi, which didn’t even look real. I was moving fast and it felt effortless without all of the added weight from the backpack. It’s hard to know if you’re ever really “ready” for a race like the Tor, but I was feeling stronger in that last week of training than I ever had before, including pre-surgery Annie. I had this quiet sense of confidence inside that I was indeed ready.

As soon as all the hype of UTMB was over, I headed to Chamonix, France to begin my taper. I did my last long run up to La Jonction next to the Glacier des Bossons. It was incredible to be so close to the glacier with such a mesmerizing view. Then the long-awaited day finally arrived! After 6 long weeks of missing each other, I was reunited with Shel! He came all the way from Colorado to support me in my race. Since Shel had never been to the Alps before, I thought it would be fun to enjoy a little vacation in Chamonix together before we would both be immersed in race week duties.

We filled our four days in Chamonix with beautiful hikes on all different sides of the valley, and delicious food, including lots of croissants, raclette, and even 10 scoops of gelato in a single cone. Yes, we finished it, but we would probably not recommend or do it again. Of course, we had to take the famous cable car to the top of the Aiguille du Midi, a 3,842m (12,604 ft) mountain in the Mont Blanc massif. We hiked to the Bossons Glacier, Brévent ridgeline, and Mer de Glace. It was the perfect relaxing reset before heading back to Courmayeur for the long awaited race day(s)!

Tor Des Geants (Tour of the Giants) consists of a 330K (206M) loop circumnavigating the Aosta Valley in Italy. It weaves through the mountains, climbing and descending valley to valley and accumulating a total of 24,000m (80,000 ft) of elevation gain with equal loss. It’s a legendary race within the sport and draws thousands of people from all over the world to make their journey around the TDG loop.

I’ve dreamed of doing the Tor Des Geants since I first started running ultras because it just seemed to encompass everything I love about the sport... beautiful, challenging mountains with a very special community surrounding it. I definitely wanted to experience it at least once, and this was the year! There was some serious rust to be busted for the first couple of races back, but after a solid run at Tahoe 200 in June, I felt confident that my body and new and improved ankle could handle the distance. Now I just needed to introduce it to the trails of the Italian Alps.

I had one very similar (and maybe even harder) race experience to draw upon going into the Tor, the Swiss Peaks 360K, which I finished in 2023. It was 230 miles with 86,000 ft of climbing and took me nearly 105 hours, so I at least had some conceptualization of the task at hand, or rather, at foot. Swiss Peaks blew my mind because it was so drastically different from any race I had ever experienced at home in the United States, including races that are known for being quite mountainous like the Hardrock 100. I quickly learned how helpful it would be to train in Europe for an extended period of time because there really isn’t a comparable training stimulus even where I live in Colorado.

The Rocky Mountains don’t even begin to weigh-up to the steepness, length, and technicality of the climbs and descents in the Alps. However, the Rocky Mountains sit at a much higher altitude, which makes the effort level feel quite a bit harder. The long and short of it is that both are challenging in different ways, but one doesn’t necessarily translate well to the other. Of course it is possible to train for this race in Colorado, but it’s not the most ideal.

I ended up having the perfect training opportunity as Hoka was putting on a camp for athletes running the Tour du Mont Blanc (UTMB) in the French Alps. Even though I wasn’t running UTMB, they were generous enough to let me join. I went to France in late August and spent two weeks at the training camp, which was in a small town tucked up against a mountain called Mont Joly. There were endless options for incredible runs right from the door, but they also arranged for drivers to take us out to do specific sections of the UTMB course. There was a pool, sauna, and a wizard of physio available for recovery. Three delicious and nourishing meals a day were made by a private chef, and we enjoyed every bite at a long table before and after a big day in the mountains. We stayed in these beautiful chalets with a view outside the window that didn’t even look real. Everything was branded with Hoka stickers on the windows, Hoka chairs outside on the porch, Hoka yoga mats, even down to the pillows on the sofa! It was truly a Hoka dreamland.

Outside of two rest days, one planned, and one under the unfortunate circumstance of a terrible stomach bug, I spent my 14 days at the camp running far more than I’m used to… as one does at a training camp in Hoka dreamland. Thank goodness for that physio because there is no way I would have survived two weeks unscathed! In the evenings at the dinner table, we would all chat about our run plans for the following day and ask if anyone wanted to join in the fun. I almost always found myself with the group that was running the longest, go figure! It wasn’t intentional necessarily, but the longer options always seemed to be the most interesting routes. Lucky for me, training for a 200+ mile race involves lots of big days out on my feet, so I could pretty much explore to my heart’s content.

I managed a good balance between running in a group and on my own. Miles in a group seemed to fly by in no time, but they were rarely “easy,” at least for me. I quickly learned that I was going to have to run solo if I wanted a chance at a recovery jog. I enjoy training alone, but I found it to be really helpful having the girls there to push me to a harder effort than I would have tapped into by myself. I joined a strong French runner, Manon, for a couple runs on the TDS course. She had won the race before and was running it again this year. Out of all the races in the UTMB series, TDS has always looked the most enticing to me on paper. It’s just under 100 miles, but with 31,000 feet of climbing over much more technical mountain terrain than the UTMB. This was the perfect opportunity to bring that paper map to life and see some of the course.

Manon planned a great route for us one day, starting in the town just down the mountain, Les Contamines. We did a 17 mile lollipop loop with over 7,000 ft of elevation gain crossing the Col de Tricot and Col de Voza. She was running many of the steep uphill grades that I would have deemed as “power-hiking worthy.” It was definitely a challenging pace for me, but I locked onto her heels and held on. The first week of camp was full of rain and clouds, sadly covering all of the mountain views. This was the first day that the clouds parted ways, revealing beautiful Mont Blanc as we began our descent from Col de Tricot. It definitely added a sense of reward after that long climb.

I did some of my own exploration as well. My “go-to” run, so to speak, was the summit of Mont Joly, which was only 4 miles from the chalet, but with 4,000 ft of elevation gain. It was so easy to collect a bunch of vertical gain in a very short distance. I did that route quite a few times over the course of the camp, often passing a huge flock of sheep and some very unfriendly guard dogs. Sometimes I would even have to share the trail as the sheep marched across making the funniest, almost human-sounding noises.

For the longest run of my training block, I mapped out a big mountain loop to do from the door. Starting with the descent down to Les Contamines, up to the Col du Bonhomme, Col de la Gittaz, and finally the Mont Joly summit before descending back down to the chalet. I should also note that a “col” is basically a saddle or mountain pass. The views were absolutely spectacular, and it added up to be 34 miles with 11,000 ft of elevation gain. It took me nearly 9 hours including lots of photo stops and a quick break for a cold can of Orangina at the Mont Joly Refuge. It was the perfect little boost I needed to finish out the final climb of a magical day.

The evening after that long run, sitting at the dinner table eating a big plate of salmon, one of my house-mates, Sylvia, asked if there were any takers for a run up to the Tete Rousse Glacier that next morning. It was practically the highest point we could see from the chalet and sits right below the Mont Blanc summit. I was planning to take a rest day after that huge run (and week), but thought about how cool it would be to look up at that point and know that I ran there, and back. Plus, it was a perfect opportunity for back-to-back long runs.

I had no business keeping up with this group on my best day, let alone after a 9 hour long run, but I met Sylvia, Ludo, and Rod that morning to start the route and held on for dear life as long as I could. The first half was a 1,000 foot descent to the valley floor before an 8,000 foot wall of a climb up to the glacier. I was surprised to find that my quads felt relatively fresh as I pounded them down that first descent. Then came the smooth double-track path that climbed at about a 20% grade. 20% constitutes a “hiking” grade in my book, but not for the Europeans. If it is smooth terrain, they are “running” it no matter how steep. I slowed to a walk to open my poles for about two seconds and was instantly dropped.

When the path became a little more forgiving and offered a slight downhill, I pushed myself to catch back up to the group and held onto their heels. When we turned onto a technical single-track trail, I thought for sure it would be deemed a “hiking” grade, but not for Ludo. He was just starting his interval workout and bolted ahead with Rod and Sylvia following behind. I put my head down, planted my poles into the dirt, and pushed as hard as I could now, starting to feel the fatigue in my legs from the day before. When I looked up after a few switchbacks, the group was nowhere in sight. Part of me was a bit relieved as I settled into my own pace.

The last quarter or so of the climb turned into a boulder hop with chamois or mountain goats milling about. I passed groups of mountaineers with helmets and climbing rope draped around their necks. They must have been coming from climbing Mont Blanc, the highest point in Europe peaking at 4810m (15,780 ft). I got to share the summit view with my group right as they were about to start the descent. They had already stopped for photos and snacks at the refuge by the time I arrived. I didn’t see them again after that, but was perfectly happy doing the route on my own. What an incredible spot our feet carried us up to that day. The descent had some exciting features with chains to hold on to and even a ladder on some of the really steep and exposed sections. 6 hours, 9,000 ft+, and 22 miles later, I arrived back at the Hoka chalet and could look back and see exactly where I was earlier that morning. It was almost hard to believe because it looked so far away.

After two big long runs and a 122 mile training week with 40,000 feet of vertical gain, my body was begging for a rest day. I felt a huge sense of guilt taking a rest day at camp. I had the most magical playground sitting right outside the door and felt as though I was wasting it. But, I also knew that I needed to listen to my body and give it the recovery time it was asking for. And so, I spent a day sitting by the window sipping coffee and chatting with my teammates, which wasn’t half-bad either!

Finally, there was only one day left of Hoka camp and the weather called for blue-bird skies. I had to make the most of it! I mapped out a special loop for the final day from the chalet, up to Col de Cicle (which was supposedly spectacular!) and back around to Mont Joly. It was 24 miles with 8,000 feet of vert. I sent a GPS file of the route to the group chat with all of my teammates to see if anyone wanted to join. I had one taker, Eszter! I had become friends with Eszter at the Western States training camp a couple years back. She is from Hungary, but lives in Hong Kong, so needless to say, I don’t get to see her too often. I was so hoping she would be at this UTMB training camp, and she ended up coming to dinner with the team on the second to last night. I got to exchange a quick hi and hug, but it was very brief. I was so excited to get her message about the run because we were well overdue for a proper catch-up!

It was a long and beautiful day out shared with a wonderful friend. The views were fantastic and the miles flew by. We even stopped for a treat at the Mont Joly Refuge to make it that much sweeter before the final summit. It was the perfect conclusion to an unforgettable two weeks at the Hoka camp. I’m so grateful for this experience, the places I got to see and explore, the friends I made from all over the world, and the huge fitness boost going into TOR330. The work was far from over yet though!

~ Continued in Pt. 2 ~

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