Breakfast in Trient. If you go, take your own. The lodge there provided cardboard sliced bread and corn flakes (I am not kidding and I did not even know corn flakes even still existed). I started the day hangry, which is not a good way to start the day even if you don’t have 19 miles and 6500 feet to climb.
But you know what? I trained SO HARD for this. I really wanted to have a smooth last day. And I did, feeling pretty good as we circled around the mountain in perfect weather, surrounded by impeccable and irreplaceable views.
But then I fell. I fell hard. I had one of those falls where I don’t move for a second because I need to know what’s broken.
Luckily nothing was, but I was scared, shaken, and sore, and I still had half the run to go. I keep thinking back to the whole trip and wondering how that last day would have been different if I hadn’t bit it. Maybe I would have been worn out and cranky anyway. I’m not sure. But I was sore, tired, grumpy, and just wanted to be done. I even threatened to quit, though I don’t think the group would have let me.
Soon enough, we were rolling into Chamonix, where Simon had set up a finish line for us. We had some champagne, took massive amounts of photos, and then headed back to the hotel for a shower. That evening was a lovely dinner at Munchies.
I can’t even begin to explain what an accomplishment this trip was for me.