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Stian Sommerseth

If All I Have Is This, It'll Still Be Enough

I toss and turn in bed, wrestling with a mix of fear and excitement. I've never been this nervous before a race. I think it’s because I usually just want to do well, which is different from needing to do well or thinking I need to do well.


However, once the gun goes off by morning, it won't matter. There'll only be steps and breaths. There's peace in that, and after a while, the dull sound of the torrential downpour outside has drowned my loud, distracting dread and has me drowsing.


It's a dreamless, short night of sleep, but I wake up at 4:00 feeling refreshed.


After a breakfast of white bread and Nutella, I jog along the river to the mandatory race briefing. Rain is still pouring down from the ominous clouds pressing down upon us. The mountains we're supposed to climb in a little over an hour are covered by a dark gray veil. Dawn is on hold for now, so I put on my black rain jacket and fade into the thick mist.


At the briefing, I see IAN with a camera, as always. He gives me insight into the course and my competition. We also talk about his adventure in JOTUNHEIMEN the week before. Although I no longer feel the nerves from the night before, I welcome a familiar face. It makes me feel at home, even though I'm thousands of miles away.


I also see FREDRIK. I don't think we've raced each other before. Knowing what and where he comes from though, I have no doubts he won't mind any slippery rocks or treacherous mud. I don't see HAYDEN, but he’s first in line at the start. I'm a bit starstrucked, but mostly excited to find out how we stack up against him.



Almost immediately, FREDRIK, HAYDEN, and I are separated from the rest of the field. However, after three kilometers when we hit the first of the two significant climbs that make up this race, they pull away. HAYDEN sets the tempo. FREDRIK hangs on. I take out my poles and find my own rhythm. Their pace isn't my pace today, and I know it. The old me would be stressed out by that, but I have learned, and the incorporeal confidence I've harvested from hanging with the lead pack has, more times than not, hollowed me out. I remind myself I'm here to do well, no matter what it takes, and I know I can do well without winning or being the one who sets the pace. I just need to do my own thing.


So I do.


The trail is a riverbed of mud, carving into the steep mountainside, testing our resolve with every slippery step. With the poles to help, I think I hold up well. Before long, I can see a little daylight open up between FREDRIK and HAYDEN, and my gap to them seems to stop increasing without feeling like I'm the one now pushing the pace.


We climb, higher and higher, until the trees bow out and leave us to the still, silent air. Except for the steadfast rhythm of my poles hitting rocks and roots on the trail, I can only hear cow bells ringing gently on unseen pastures hidden under the white sheet of mist still covering us.


At the 10km mark I come into the first aid station beautifully set up on the shore of a serene lake, right below the highest point on the course. I fill up two more bottles of Tailwind and swap them for the two I have consumed on the way up. We're only 70 minutes into the race and I've already had a liter of fluids plus 132g of carbs. No wonder I feel good! It's surreal thinking how much fuel that is compared to how much I used to consume at races. I guess I was always too consumed with the racing part to care for myself properly. That changes this summer.


On the top, I'm all alone. Here, the ridge the course follows is an island rising from a sea of mist. I can't tell how far down it is to either side of me. Having put away my poles, there's not a sound to be heard except for my labored breath. It's an exciting change of awareness after having put my head down to grind uphill for 90 consecutive minutes.


Then, the course nose dives out of the clouds, and we join the 100 milers and 100k runners on the first of our two descents, returning to the valley. The trail is once again treacherously dissolved, not only by rain and sliding mud but by cow manure and the hundreds of runners from the other races that have passed through already. Finding a rhythm without risking too much is difficult, especially knowing that the last descent of the day is also down here, with hundreds more runners passing by then.


Suddenly, I've caught HAYDEN. At first, I'm a little perplexed and afraid he's having some sort of issue. He must have been a couple minutes ahead of me just a few kilometers ago. When I come up by his side, he smiles and says something about how these conditions must be like what we have a lot of in NORWAY. I smile. It isn't wrong and explains how FREDRIK is nowhere to be seen ahead of us. I tell HAYDEN we gotta make it to CHAMONIX. I think he knows what I mean. I at least know that however much time I put into him on this descent, it won't be more than what FREDRIK is doing, and it won't be more than what HAYDEN can gain on us back down in the valley and on second climb.



Still, I pull away without taking any perceived risk. As we get closer to the bottom, the sky opens up, and I see FREDRIK ahead by less than a minute. Behind HAYDEN, a fourth runner appears out of the mist. It is our NEPALESE competitor, SUMAN. Of course, he doesn't mind this challenge.


The four of us are bunched up before we're at the bottom. We chat a bit about the conditions. It feels like a team effort because we all have different strengths. SUMAN and FREDRIK take the lead on the most steep and slippery downhills. HAYDEN pulls away on the climbs. I'm somewhere in the middle. Maybe I'm the one most focused on just doing my own thing. Perhaps they're better at me at those types of things. It matters little because no one gets separation from the group for a long while.


We slide down the last part of the descent and leave the woods by the hotel where SYNNE and I are staying. She's there spectating. It's a significant boost seeing her. I give her a quick kiss before the pace increases again. We're on the flat part between the two climbs, nearing the race's halfway point. Our pack splinters at an aid station at the 22k mark. I stop to fill two more bottles and lose the others. It's easy running here, and HAYDEN leaves the other two behind. I have another one of those "I just need to do my thing"-moments. And again, I do. I think the constant downpour aids my effort, to be honest. It reminds me that nothing will come easy today, but it will be well-earned.


We jump an electrical fence on the course, and I accidentally hit it with one of my poles. A jolt zaps my left arm, and my pinky finger comically twitches for a good minute afterward. I laugh to myself. I can't believe this is my hobby.


Our final climb starts on a gravel road down the valley, nestled between rising peaks around us. SUMAN is struggling and falls behind. HAYDEN relentlessly pushes away. I catch up to FREDRIK after running by myself half a minute behind them since the last aid station. FREDRIK dubs us the "NORWEGIAN TRAIL TRAIN." It's a good name. Once again, it feels like we're a team, keeping each other on our toes.


We have HAYDEN in our sights until kilometer 27, the final aid station until we're well into the descent on our way back to the finish line. Both FREDRIK and I stop to fill our bottles. Going out of there, I'm a little distracted, and we run a 400m detour. Once we're back on track, we have not only lost HAYDEN, but SUMAN is ahead of us. It's annoying, but neither FREDRIK nor I feel threatened or weakened much, so it doesn't become a desperate chase to immediately regain what's lost. Instead, FREDRIK takes the lead, and I follow after.


Once again, we ascend the tree line. After a while, FREDRIK looks back and says he sees SUMAN walking. Unfortunately for him, this is good for us, result-wise.


We're about 30 kilometers in now and splashing through an over-nurtured grass field that has almost become a swamp. Here, the mist lifts its veil, revealing the majestic faces of mountains long hidden, like guardians watching over our path.


FREDRIK starts pulling away on a steep, uneven climb to a picturesque chapel. I think of trying to hold on to him, but I manage to stay focused on staying on top of myself instead. I only have one gear today. It ain't a bad one. It just isn't good enough to keep up with the duo ahead. It might be exactly what I need for CCC, though, and I find strength in that being less than four weeks away.


Thus, I'm by myself again when the climb evens out. We run along a balcony trail following the curve of the base of the rock wall to our right. Still on this balcony path, but 4-5 minutes ahead, I can see HAYDEN for the first time in a while. Considering the narrow and rocky trail, I assume FREDRIK will make up some time for him. SUMAN is nowhere to be seen.


I'm not alone for long, though. First, our trail intersects with the 100k and 100-mile courses. Then, on the top of the climb, we're back on the trail we ran earlier that morning. Suddenly, it's very crowded, which ups the difficulty level on an already beaten path. Also, even though I can now see much further ahead than when the mist swallowed us up, FREDRIK and HAYDEN blend in with the crowd. I can't tell how far I'm behind. I lose focus a bit and manage to trip on a root. Falling forward, I snap one of my poles that's gotten stuck under me. It's clumsy, but no bodily harm's done. Lucky for me, all the long climbs are behind us, so it's time to put the poles away anyway.


Surrounded by other runners, I realize I won't know much about how I fare compared to the three others I've competed with all day. It's just me as the mountain once again melts into a cascading mudslide, its once solid form surrendered to the relentless rain. Not only do I have to think about taking care of myself, but I need to run slalom through the field I'm mixed in with. Still, I'm glad I'm not caught up in someone else's race pace here.


Down in the valley, the sun finally comes out, and it's much warmer than it has been. I try to pick up the pace on the really runnable final stretch, but my legs don't have juice left for a kick, so it's not much of a finish. It turns out I don't need it either.



I cross the finish line comfortably in third, a little over five minutes behind HAYDEN and three plus minutes behind FREDRIK. With this, I've secured entry into the UTMB World Series Finals for 2025. Even more importantly, I've had exactly the day I hoped for. I'm basically an office rat in a city with no mountains. Yet I get to throw down in the ALPS with one of my idols. Sharing that experience with my new friend and countryman, FREDRIK, adds to the excitement. Sharing it with SYNNE, who I find waiting for me at the finish line, means everything to me. A swell of emotions fills me up as I see her. I cannot believe how lucky I am.












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