Lessons I've learnt: the Eiger Ultra & Life in Switzerland

It is fairly difficult to know where to start with this post. How do I sum up the Eiger Ultra? How do I summarise five years of living in Switzerland? I have decided, rather abstractly, to amalgamate the two. Bear with me.

For those of you who have stumbled across this page or do not know my background: I am a teacher and a long distance runner, who has spent the last five years in the Swiss Alps in the Valais Canton. A beautiful region with some of the great mountain peaks at my doorstep, and I have lived approximately 1500m above sea level. I am, the human embodiment of a Marmot (it is no coincidence I have penned a children’s book called “Mildred the Marmot”).

When I have not been in the classroom teaching Speech and Drama as part of the curriculum or managing students as Head of Year, I have been running. Each trail around here feels as familiar and unique as my own hand print, and I have been honoured that this has been my back yard for half a decade.

Last weekend, I took on the Eiger Ultra in Grindelwald, not too far away from home. 54km (approx) and over 3000m of ascent. It was the perfect way for me to end my time in Switzerland, and this magnificent beast of a course had been on the bucket list. Big views, big climbs and big descents awaited. When I arrived to race, I felt a bit out of my depth, having not slept well the night before and finding the first half of the race, tough.

This also rings true of the beginning of my time in Switzerland, arriving in 2018. Having spent much time in the familiarity of Chamonix, I was not sure how I would adapt to a new environment, not knowing anyone and having to start afresh. I was creating my own curriculum, and the challenge of the task felt initially very daunting. Was I ready for this? Had I prepared enough? It was very much, one step in front of the other. Whilst everything felt daunting, I was however comforted by the discovery of each new trail, realising quite how spectacular this part of the Alps was, seemingly unknown compared to the well-frequented UTMB footpaths. Each year seemed to bring new opportunity as well as challenge, and like at the beginning of the Eiger, I knew I needed to graft in the face of some uncertainty. Where was I heading? Throw into that Covid and the impossibility of travelling home, it felt very much as if I was off the well trodden path - at one point going a year without seeing my parents.

From the summit of Faulhorn 25km into the Eiger, things began to look up. The views spanned all the way to interlaken and Lake Brienz with it’s bright aquamarine water, and I could feel my stomach settle and my heart rate steady itself. With the promise of a bit of rest bite from exerting the quads, I relaxed and found a better cadence on the following descents and traverses. The wheels were in motion and I had found my feet. Indeed, life in Switzerland soon became like this for me. I had routine: I worked hard, I trained hard, I visited friends and spoke to my family on the phone on long runs. I was honoured to be promoted to the middle management level at work, and I really, truly, loved my job working with young people. Local races brought a sense of community, and I loved sharing my running adventures with the kids (also helping to run trail running club).

Life was then about to throw another curveball. Like the unexpected nastier sections in a race when you are tired and disoriented with what suddenly lies in front of you. The day my parents phoned me to confirm the fear of my Mother’s breast cancer. Running took a back seat as I rushed home (thankfully not stopped by pandemic restrictions). I sometimes find it hard to articulate this time. My Mother demonstrated true grit, and it inspired me to try and find my own in a different way to any resilience I had developed through “lots of training” or long days at work.

Between us we found strength in not only each other, but funnily enough, through running: I took on the SwissAlps 100, raising money for Macmillan Cancer Research in 2022. The distance (near 100k / 6000m) was more than I had ever attempted in running, but with the support of those around me and a truly wonderful race organiser, I was able to treat the experience as a cathartic one, telling cancer what I thought of it, through pushing on to 4th woman. I tell you, if you ever feel truly angry, (as I did and so many do, due to the barbaric effects of this disease on those we love) go for a really long run. It is amazing how it soothes your soul. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your valuable donations, as we raised over 13k for essential things for the Horizon Centre, which provides comfort and support for those having Chemotherapy treatment in Brighton. They have been so kind to my Mum, kind to my family, and so many others who are in amongst the toughest endurance feat going: fighting cancer. For those in that battle, you have my full admiration. I have seen how grueling, how relentless and how all encompassing the effects are - for which there is no medal. No athlete will ever compare to what you have to take on. To my Mum - you are exceptionally brave, and I love you.

We await more results for my dear mum at the moment, and her battle is continuous and an endurance feat I cannot imagine. I am immensely proud of her. As I approached near 5 years in the Alps, I had to make a decision like a fork in the road. As R.Frost quotes in the “Road Not Taken”, I felt I had really gone down my own wonderful unique path here, and now it was time for new adventures. This time, the mountain was not calling, but home was.

A big reason to return back to the UK is my family. To return back to my roots to find new routes. I am excited for my career path ahead, as well as to return to the Salomon UK ambassador family. While I really believe home is where the heart is, I know that a piece of my heart will always be in the Alps, which I will return to as often as I can in order to feel full.

The end of the Eiger was a beautiful moment of feeling like “the job is done”. Smiles, tears, and a sense of fulfilment as one chapter closes.

I look forward to taking you along more adventures, both in finding wonderful trails in the UK as well as abroad. TBC…

Photos: © Sportograf