A decade later: what inspired your return to the UTMB? Reflecting on the initial participation in 2015 and the challenges you faced, what motivated you to return to the UTMB after 10 years?

My first UTMB was supposed to be my last ultra. I only signed up as a way to get back in shape. I hated running. But when I crossed the line in Chamonix and finally had time to reflect, something shifted. I realised I loved it: the people, the culture, the chance to explore the world through the mountains. That finish line turned into a rabbit hole of searching out the hardest races on the planet, just to see where my limit was. Still, I always knew I’d come back to my first mountain race. But this time, to experience it without making every possible mistake.

What did you learn from your last UTMB experience, and is there anything you plan to approach differently this time?

My first UTMB was basically a master’s degree in what not to do. I made some hilarious choices like trying to fuel an entire race on one flavour of Gu (which, on its own, is nasty enough). Since then, across 40 ultras, I’ve worked on every area I could think of. Nutrition and training have been the biggest lessons. Back in 2015, I didn’t have any endurance background, I joined Strava and was shocked to learn people were out there running seven days a week, and it was legal! Mind blown.

How have you prepared mentally and physically for the demanding terrain of the UTMB?

Every race has been a chance to improve mental prep. Running 200 milers was the ultimate stress test for all sorts of theories and strategies. One of my favourite high-return tactics is visualisation: I ask ChatGPT to throw me worst-case scenarios, from stomach blow-ups to storms, and then I rehearse how I’d handle them. It’s not about predicting the exact disaster, but about proving to myself that I can figure things out. My favourite: ‘What if you have a fatal accident?’ 

In what ways have your training, mindset and approach to ultra-trail running evolved over the past decade?

In a bizarre full-circle way, I’m back where I started. When I lined up for my first trail race in completely inappropriate basketball shoes and business socks, I was only competing with myself. That’s how I began, where I am now and how I want to finish. A few years ago, I almost quit after becoming obsessed with placements and letting a couple of bad results ruin everything. Without the help of my sports psychologist and coach, my running career would have been over. Now, I just want to put together my perfect day and see how close I can get to the edge of my performance. Or, in the words of wrestling philosopher Randy ‘Macho Man’ Savage: ‘If you’re not living on the edge, you’re taking up too much room’.

The UTMB is renowned for its gruelling course. Can you share insights into the race's route, elevation, and what makes it uniquely challenging?

The headline grabbers are 170k and 10,000m climbing, big mountains, severe weather and altitude. But honestly, the course is quite runnable. The joke is you could almost push a buggy around it. The real challenge is the show. You’ve got 2,500 runners, and four times as many spectators, all buzzing with adrenaline, nerves, caffeine, and carbs. It’s electric. In 2015, I got completely caught up in the hype and lost my head before the first checkpoint. For me, the hardest part of UTMB isn’t the course, it’s sticking to the plan while everything around you screams otherwise.

To compete in the UTMB, runners must meet specific qualification criteria. Could you elaborate on the process and how you secured your place in this year's race?

I don’t have a PhD in calculus, so here’s the TL;DR: you either podium a UTMB World Series race, or you play the lottery. To get into the lottery, you need at least one Running Stone, earned by finishing a UTMB series race, within the past two years. Stones are basically lottery tickets, and they don’t expire. The more you have, the better your odds. Qualifier races still count towards your UTMB Index score, but they don’t give Stones. There are a lot of fiddly rules and exceptions, but in short: run a race, get a Stone, and then rain dance until your name comes up.

With the UTMB's demanding nature, what strategies have you developed to manage pacing, nutrition, and mental endurance over the course?

Ten years ago I went out like a man possessed. It didn’t end well. This time, I’ll start conservatively, because no one else will. Nutrition-wise, variety works. No more single-flavour disasters, now I mix gels, real food, electrolytes, and fluids. Mentally, I break the course into chunks: climb to climb, aid station to aid station. If things really go south, I shrink the goals down further, but always keep moving forward.

Could you walk us through a typical week of training leading up to the UTMB? How do you balance intensity with recovery?

Right now, I’m training about 12–18 hours a week. Monday is a steady 20k, Tuesday is intervals plus some cross-training on the bike or treadmill, Wednesday another 20k easy. Thursday is recovery, just 10k. Friday is my long mountain run, anywhere from 28 to 50km, at a bit below race pace. Saturday is another long mountain run, 25–35km but easier. Sunday is ‘rest,’ which usually means chasing my three boys around. Balancing intensity with recovery is definitely my weak spot, but I try to make up for it by sleeping more… with mixed results.

As a Montane athlete, what gear are you relying on for the UTMB, and why are these choices critical for performance and safety?

I’ve been with Montane for six years because their kit is light, reliable, and resilient. I still have and use the waterproof jacket I wore at UTMB 2015. This year I’ll be in the Dart shirt and Jetstream shorts, airy and quick-drying, perfect since I overheat easily. My secret weapon is the Gecko VP5 pack, a stripped-down 5L with just enough space and all the pockets I love. For the mandatory kit, I’ll carry the Minimus Nano jacket and trousers 200g total, but fully waterproof. Not Everest gear, but more than enough for the Alps. And on the crew side, Montane’s duffel is our aid-station workhorse durable, easy to carry and fits everything I need. 

Ultra-trail running tests mental limits. How do you maintain focus and motivation during the most challenging segments of the race?

It happens at least once every race: What the sh!@ am I doing here? But I’ve asked that question enough times now that I know the answer. I’ll tuck in behind another runner moving slightly faster and use the mental draft, or set mini-goals, usually something that takes about an hour, like reaching the next aid station or topping out a climb. Hallucinations don’t count, though. Chasing after airport hangars and other mirages is like chasing moving goal posts.

How important is the support crew during the UTMB? What role do they play in your race strategy and overall experience?

My crew is one of the three pillars of my race, alongside nutrition and gear. They keep my stops fast, my kit sorted, and my food ready. Beyond logistics, they help me ride out the lows and extend the highs, plus they see way more of my competition than I do. That’s why I always put out my best ‘everything’s awesome’ energy when other crews are nearby.

What message would you like to convey to aspiring ultra-trail runners who face their own obstacles and are considering taking on challenges like the UTMB?

Two things I’ve learned from 50+ ultras. First, everyone has to start somewhere. I started overweight, chasing a dream of running UTMB. My first run ended 200 metres later. It took weeks before I could run 1km without stopping, but I built up slowly. Now I run 120–150km a week. Second, you’ll never feel ready for the next big step. I wasn’t ready for my first half, my first 50k, or my first 200 miler. No one ever feels ready, but if you show up to the start line, you’ll figure it out.