My experience as an ultrarunner in 2023

Reflection on the races of last year, 2023. Celebrate your finishes & learn from your mistakes! Enjoy reading.

Rotterdam Marathon (April 16, 2023) This year, my winter training block was a bit different from what I would normally do. The first race on the 2023 schedule was a road race instead of a trail run. For this, I trained more on asphalt during the winter, added more tempo blocks, and did fewer trails. Unfortunately, I immediately noticed the difference in strain on my body. I had to focus more on stretching, foam rolling, sports massages, and sometimes taking it easy. But eventually, I had to run a road marathon. As a little girl, I often stood on the sidelines, cheering on my dad. Afterwards, I would enthusiastically ask if he had won (I think I was about 6 at the time...).

Now the roles were reversed. And as a sporty and competitive family, I had to make sure that the one time I ran on the road, I would beat my dad’s PR. So, I had to give it my best shot.

The day of the marathon... Normally, everyone complains about how warm the Rotterdam Marathon is, especially after training in the winter. I was looking forward to it—I love warm weather. But I was unlucky. The one time I participated, it was cold (not so warm), about 15 degrees with a cool breeze. Choosing what to wear was, of course, the number one topic.

I waited in the starting pen with Rik, singing along to Lee Towers' "You'll Never Walk Alone." Rik would pace me to hit the time I had in mind. Thanks to my mountain experience, I was looking forward to passing all the people on the Erasmus Bridge. The first time up, everyone was still fresh. A lap around Zuid, and then the bridge again. At the base, my friend and parents handed me drinks and gels, and I started the climb. Okay, this wasn’t going as planned—my legs already felt stiff from the cold. Just keep going, maintain the pace, and push. But things quickly went downhill from there—literally and figuratively. At 30km, I hit the wall. At 35km, I saw a video of my parents and friend on the big screen. Alright, now I really had to push through. Walking would only make it worse, and I wouldn’t get there any faster. Keep running, the finish line is in sight. And the final time: 03 hours 26 minutes. YES!

(For anyone curious, my dad's time was 03 hours 35 minutes, so I beat him by a good margin. Sorry, Dad!)

Will I run another road marathon? Hmm, a small chance.

Trail du Alsace du Grand Est - 105km (May 20, 2023) Thankfully, the next goal was a trail, an ultra, and a distance I had never run before. After the marathon, I quickly focused on elevation training and building endurance. My speed was fine. Unfortunately, a month before the event, I injured my hip. Overuse, perhaps? I rested, stretched a lot, did exercises, and hoped it would be okay. The injury wasn’t fully gone by the time I drove to France, but I knew I couldn’t make it worse. That’s the advantage of being a sports physio. Mentally, I was ready: I would start, and I would finish.

So exciting! My first 100km, and the start was at 6 am. Eating beforehand is hard for me, so a small sandwich had to do. From the beginning, it went quite well. Beautiful old castles and ruins to admire along the way, winding through the hills and forests. My hip started acting up, but I could keep running normally. At 50km, there was a big aid station where you could pick up a drop bag you had handed in earlier. I quickly grabbed some things, ate, drank, and kept going. Surprisingly, I was still in around 8th place among the women.

Unfortunately, the kilometers began to add up after that. Rik had gone ahead because our paces no longer matched, but he would wait at the 80km checkpoint. I was nervous about starting a dark night while exhausted, so we planned to finish together. I arrived 45 minutes after Rik (wow, he was running fast...). I was really wiped out and didn’t see how I could go on. 80km is very far, and imagining another 25km felt impossible. 25km from scratch is already a long run, let alone after 80km. But I was there to finish, so I had to keep going. Unfortunately, I had lost many places by now, so a top 10 finish was no longer possible. Slowly, the night fell. Headlamps on, paying close attention. The trail markers were easier to spot in the dark due to their reflection, so my pre-race nerves were unnecessary. With a bit more walking, alternating with my “ultra shuffle” (which was still 7:30min/km), we slowly moved forward. I promise you, it felt like I was sprinting all out, haha.

Onto the asphalt, down a super steep road, into the village, winding through it, up one last steep bridge, and then triumphantly over the UMTB finish line!!!

I ran my first 100km ultra trail in 16 hours, 32 minutes, and 31 seconds!

Val d'Aran - 110km (July 7, 2023) Seven weeks after my first 100+km race, the second one was already on the schedule. Too enthusiastic? Maybe.

After the previous race, I rested well but felt I could start running again fairly quickly. With two weeks of vacation in between, I felt unstoppable! During the vacation, I even ran the 48km Cortina trail in the Dolomites, which was gorgeous!! My legs felt a bit stiff, signaling that I should rest more before the next 100+km race.

On July 3, Maarten and I flew to Toulouse, where Rik and Cathy picked us up for a short drive to Vielha in the Spanish Pyrenees. The UTMB trail running atmosphere slowly started to build in the village. We planned for a few easy days. Two days before, we explored the final stretch of the last downhill to loosen up the legs. This gave me little confidence, which took a mental toll. My legs didn’t feel loose at all. I decided to wait and see how far I would get two days later. In hindsight, this was the worst mindset...

The start: up early again, a short bus ride, and then the start next to a little church in a small village. And what a start!! Man, they flew away at 4.50min/km, as if 100km was nothing... Soon, I understood why—we hit a bottleneck at a narrow single track.

Then the long, long, loooong climb! I didn’t feel strong, it wasn’t going well, and I was being overtaken from all sides. By 30km, I had fallen so far behind that I wasn’t enjoying it anymore, and the finish at 100km felt so far away. I texted: “I’m going to stop at 50km.” The reply came: “Just push through, ultras have ups and downs.” That’s true! But my down had lasted for 30km, and I didn’t think I would get out of it. As I neared the highest point, I gained some courage—the downhill, my favorite! So I told myself: If the downhill goes well, I’ll continue past 50km. I’ll make it. Well, the downhill didn’t go well at all. I even had to sit down a few times because my legs wouldn’t cooperate. At 40km, I called Maarten (who had run the 50km the day before) to come pick me up at 45km—I just couldn’t go on.

So, my Val d'Aran adventure ended at 45km... It turned out that Rik had also dropped out at 50km due to a hamstring injury.

Had I done too much beforehand? Had I not recovered enough? Should I have skipped the Cortina trail? All these questions ran through my mind.

One thing is certain: Val d'Aran, I’ll see you in 2024. I’ve got unfinished business with you! And it was sooo beautiful, I truly enjoyed the views along the way, so I definitely want to run this trail in full.

Ultra Tour Monte Rosa - 160km in 4 stages (July 6 - 9, 2023) Ooh, multi-stage races! I love them. Last year, I ran the TransAlpineRun and absolutely loved it. This time, it was four days in the Monte Rosa mountains, around the Matterhorn. A week before, it had snowed a lot, so we had to wait and see if the full route could go ahead. Upon arrival in the starting village, the snow had quickly melted, and the entire plan could proceed. The weather forecast was four days of clear blue skies and 25 degrees—lucky me!

On day 1, we ran along the Europaweg to Zermatt, a beautiful route. My legs just needed to wake up, and climbing wasn’t going so smoothly yet. However, the downhills were great, and I felt fit. This was going to be a great few days.

Day 2 started with a big climb to 3000m, right past the Matterhorn and over a glacier. That 3000m was tough—I’m not used to being at such high altitudes while power-hiking as fast as possible. Then came a big downhill, followed by another steep uphill. Slowly, I began passing more runners and walkers.

Day 3 was set to be quite technical. It started with a beautiful climb, easily accessible, through a ski area, under the lifts, all the way to the highest point. Last checkpoint and time for some technical footwork: lots of rocks, boulders, and winding paths. It didn’t bother me at all; I was enjoying it. Technical descents are so beautiful. And the surroundings were stunning, with clear blue skies and breathtaking views of the high mountains we were in. However, the last long climb up was really tough. The descent after that was wonderfully technical but also flowing. It wasn’t a lie—it was definitely a technical day.

Day 4, the final day. I wanted to give it my all one last time and see what I had left. The uphill was steady, and I felt good. At the top stood the statue of Monte Rosa. No time to stop and admire it, straight on. Oh man, what a downhill—huge boulders! I wanted to go fast but also keep my ankles intact. That’s when the real mountain goats, those who live in the mountains, passed me by. But I held my own. Then someone ahead of me in the standings caught up to me. Such a shame; I couldn’t climb any higher. But she wasn’t pulling away either. Okay, keep going, further uphill. Across a rock field with a risk of rockfall. BAM! It had to happen. I always fall or hit something. My kneecap slammed right into the point of a rock. Blood, immediately swelling and bruising, but no time to stop. I had to keep going. I noticed the woman behind me was struggling. And there it was—a beautiful descent ahead. I let go of all the brakes, laughing wide, jumping, and racing downhill. FINISH!

And I took the spot—started 1 minute behind her and finished 4 minutes ahead in the standings! A perfect cherry on top of four amazing days. I finished as the 7th woman, very satisfied!

Quickly put my legs up, because the season wasn’t over yet...

Devil's Trail Backyard - 24 hours - 6.7 km per lap - 160 km (September 30 - October 1, 2023)
Three weeks later, the next ultra was already on the schedule. This one wasn’t initially planned; I signed up as a joke, thinking, "Oh well, I can always withdraw." But by now, you probably know me a bit if you’ve made it this far. When I sign up, I want to go and finish the race! I had learned from Val d'Aran that thoughts like, "I’ll see how far I get" don’t help. So I started this adventure with the mindset: "I’m going to finish this little devil, one lap at a time!"

Marit came along with the camper van to crew for me for 24 hours—what a hero! We packed all the gear, food, drinks, clothes, supplies, and shoes. At the venue, we set everything up and organized it so Marit could easily find everything. Each lap started on the hour, followed by a 6.7 km run, giving me about 10 minutes to quickly eat or drink, provided I could keep up the planned pace.

RTL news had heard about the event where "crazy people" would run endless laps for fun. They wanted to know why, so I gave a lovely interview, which was broadcast in the six and eight o’clock news—haha!
We started at 4 p.m. on Saturday. Everyone was still fresh and full of enthusiasm. We ran three laps through the Doornse forest. After that, there would be 13 laps on asphalt through the night. This broke me. The pounding of the asphalt was hard on my legs. Marit massaged my legs like crazy through the night. Sleep? Nope, Iris wanted her calves massaged because she had cramps. She did everything I asked without complaint. This really got me to the finish!!

At 7 a.m., we were allowed back into the forest. What a relief for my legs, the soft ground felt amazing. But now the mental battle began. Sitting on a chair, wrapped in a blanket, I half-cried to Marit: "I don’t want to do this anymore." She wasn’t having it. Her clear response: "Get up and run one more lap, I didn’t stay up all night for this." She practically dragged me, half asleep, to the finish. One minute of sleep resting on her shoulder, and off I went. This went on for a few more laps until I was really just a ghost. Rik, unfortunately, had to stop after several laps due to hamstring issues. He saw how tough I was having it and chose me over his painful hamstring. Mouth full of paracetamol, he ran several more laps with me—what a hero!
Marit saw me deteriorating and moved the chair and all the supplies closer to the start/finish area instead of by the camper. "Do you want blocks, a gel, or chips?" I had to eat, but at least I could choose what I wanted.

I had to finish, counting down—5 more, 3 more, until the last lap arrived. Every step of that lap was the last. By now, I knew every tree, every stump, every grain of sand, every uphill and downhill, and exactly when I was close! The last corner, the final time down the sand hill, and the finish!! Final tick by my name: 24 times!

I did it!!
I was too exhausted to feel true euphoria, but I did it. And this time, it was my mental toughness that helped me through. Without Marit’s support, I would never have made it. Thanks, friend!

Off-season
The mental and physical effort had taken its toll, and it was time to fully rest. The three weeks after Devil's Trail, I relaxed and only exercised when I genuinely felt like it. It took a while before I felt ready to start a new training block, and for the first time in a long while, I allowed myself to truly rest. The intense training sessions returned around December, and if not, they would come back in the new year.

In November, Rik and I couldn’t resist and started planning the races for 2024. We’ve signed up for the races, and after a well-deserved rest, we’re ready to dive into the new season!

See you all in 2024!
Want to see more details or follow me on my journey? Check out my Instagram account!"