It was 2019 when I came across a YouTube video discussing the Haute Route Alps. Despite not having the best bike handling skills, having little understanding of what it's like to cycle in the French Alps (besides watching the Tour de France) and training exclusively for long distance triathlons, I was captivated by this event and I knew it was something we had to experience. Somehow I sold Karel on the idea of combining our love of cycling and traveling to Europe and we registered for the 2020 event. Fast forward two years later, after living through a worlwide pandemic, the reality hit that we were finally checking this 7-day, 500-mile, 70,000+ feet elevation gain event off our bucket list.
We knew this event would challenge us physically and mentally but we had no idea what we were truly in for when we registered for this 7-day event. Known as the toughest amateur cycling race in the world, for the past 10+ years, the Haute Route Alps combines top-notch services with legendary climbs for an unforgettable, life changing experience. Although our long distance triathlon training and racing provided us with great endurance and resiliency for this event and we became an official Haute Route finisher, we learned so much from this adventure and we would have done several things differently in the preparation and execution of this event.
The distances, the elevation, the altitude, the time limits, the relentless climbs that go on for hours, the uncomfortable gradients, the long descends, the mental games, the weather, the effort, the tactics and the organization - every day we questioned how we would finish the upcoming stage. What was conceptualized as a bucket-list event, the Haute Route Alps has been etched in our minds and we will be forever changed because of this physical and mental test of discipline and endurance.
While riding your bike all day is the main focus of this event, it's only one part of the challenge. Riding from one location to the next, locating your next hotel, unpacking and re-packing gear, charging gadgets, trying to find food in a country where you don't speak the language, struggling to sleep because your legs are throbbing, analyzing the next day's stage and statistics in fear of what's to come and waking up between 5:30-6:30am every morning to attempt to eat as much as your body can handle all catches up on the body.
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The time cuts are strict, there are crashes and mechanicals, the weather is unpredictable, the climbs are gruelling and the descends are long. Sure, it's a race with a start and finish line. But there's no gaurantee that you will finish the entire event. To be counted in the official results, you must finish all seven stages - and meet all time cuts. You need great physical fitness and a lot of good luck. Everyday would wake up each morning nervous, anxious and fearful, wondering if it was physically possible to climb yet another 10,000 feet.
Although there is a lot of suffering, strangely there is comfort knowing that you are not alone. Throughout the event, you find yourself riding the same people/groups and you begin to know one another one a first-name basis. Depending on the level of exhaustion of each rider, it's not uncommon to get to know personal details about your "teammates" while grinding at 40-50 rpms for 2+ hours. The sights of horses, goals, cows and sheeps brought us joy and the scenery reminded us how lucky we are to see this part of Europe on two wheels. With all kinds of mental and physical challenges to overcome each day, you form strong bonds with the other riders. Although there was plenty of competition on the course, it was a friendly and supportive environment. By the end of the week we made so many great friends. Even if we were from different parts of the world, the cycling language is universal. And with less than 35 women in the event, it was something special to be one of the females who completed the entire event.
The Haute Route organization excels on route guidance and safety. There were arrow signs at every turn, vigilant course marshals giving us the right of way, well-stocked aid stations, regular updates on the app, daily briefings, newsletters, videos and photos and attention to every detail from the pre and post stage food, staffed feed stations, and daily massages.
The Mavic support, cheers from onlookers in each village, motorcycle escorts, SAG vehicles and supporitve staff made this event unlike anything else. Everyone involved made this event all about us - the riders - so that we could do what we love - ride our bikes. The stress-free accomodation package was worth every euro. The Haute Route took care of all of our accomodations so that all we had to do was show up to the next hotel. At least 90 minutes before every stage, we had breakfast available every morning in the restaurant of our hotel. Our luggage was always waiting for us at every next hotel. And as the event went on, our hotels got cuter and cuter. My favorite lodging was our last hotel in Megeve (picture below).
The race directors are exceptional at planning each route. I can't imagine the work that goes into planning this event for 400+ riders over 7 days. Having a race village in a new location every day was a reminder of the magnitude of this event.
The distinctive kilmeter markers on the side of the road were helpful (yet often painful) notifications of the name, length and gradient of each climb. After accomplishing an iconic climb, we could cherish the challenge of reaching the summit - only to think ahead to the next climb. Seeing the names of riders synonymous with the Tour de France painted on the ground was a constant reminder that we were riding on legendary, historic climbs. It would be a feat to ride up one famous mountain road in a day yet we would conquer 2-3 bucket list climbs, day after day after day. The excitement and mystery of the views at the top of each climb kept us pedaling through exhaustion, shortness of breathe and soreness.
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Because the descents were fast and somewhat dangerous, they were not often timed. So when we reached the end of a timed section, we could stop and soak it all in. For a moment in time, we could relish in our accomplishment of what we conquered over the past 2+ hours and push aside the agony of what was about to come. We learned tactics throughout the event, like waiting for a group to form before the next timed section as a grupetto will get you to the next climb a lot faster than riding solo.
The front of the Haute Route is a race - it's very competitive with very strong and skilled riders. At the back of the race you can find gritty riders hoping to finish a stage. In the middle are riders who are competitive, mostly against themselves. But no matter where you are in the field, you are bound to have good and bad days. No matter how hard you trained, you will struggle. You can't fake this event. The Haute Route knows how to find your weaknesses. You will have to dig really deep. You will question if your next pedal stroke will your last. Empty, sore and exhausted, you will have more moments of self-doubt than confidence. But despite the roller coaster of emotions felt within each kilometer, somehow you have to find a way to keep yourself moving.
It's hard to grasp the absurdity of what we accomplished. Riding for 5-8 hours every day, covering no less than 10,000 feet of elevation on most stages. Attempting a time trial on day 5 with pitches over 18% that require all your strength to power up so that you don't fall over. Having no concept of the time of the day, how many miles ridden or how much elevation accumulated, the enormity of each stage is something we still can't seem to comprehend. It's going to take some time for this accomplishment to sink in.
The only way to get through this event was to focus on one kilomenter at a time, one day at a time. This event taught me a lot about staying in the moment and removing pressure on expectations - two vital tools that are needed with long distance training and racing.
Pressure. It's a word that most endurance athletes can relate to. Anytime you feel "pressure" to perform, it's more than likely that you perceive there are expectations placed on you. But the truth is that pressure is nothing more than a self-imposed, product of the imagination that we create for ourselves.
With so much uncertainty as to how the body will perform in training or on race day, the best way to not feel pressure is to not create it in the first place. There's a big difference between what we believe we are capable of achieving versus what we think we must achieve. It's within this gap that the worry, stress, anxiety and doubts occurs.
The Haute Route taught me so much about managing expectations. After getting dropped from group after group in the first stage, within the first 60 minutes of the ride, I was being taught a valuable lesson that in order for me to finish this event, I needed to race my own race. I constantly reminded myself that I don't have to be good at something that I've never done before. It was when I started to stay present in the moment and attack each climb with a more task-oriented, learning persepctive that I began to improve and to gain confidence in my abilities. Even though I had a lot of struggles during this event, I had my own set of internal motivators to keep me going.
The next time you find yourself drowning in negative self-talk or feeling a tremendous amount of pressure to perform, remind yourself that the training session or race outcome is not the most important thing in life. The pressure you feel is more than likely a fear of failure. Relax. Enjoy the training session. Enjoy the event. It's just another day in your life.
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