Runner's World

050 RUNNERSWORLD.CO.UK JUNE 2018

I hang on and count the last several hundred

steps to the final tunnel. It’s long and dark but at

the end I know I’ll find what my legs and lungs

yearn for: relief from the tyranny of the treppe.

We’re spat back out into the sunshine onto a

paved path which meanders step-free up to the

summit finish. I experience the most incredible

and unexpected second wind tearing past five 10

20 competitors plodding zombie-like towards the

finish line as if in a protracted fall. I respond to the

whoops from the surprisingly large crowd gathered

by the terrace of the restaurant-hotel hare it up the

final stretch and collapse over the finish line.

I can barely stand my vision is obscured by

sweat and I’m seeing stars. When these clear I

spot a finisher’s tent serving beers. You’ve got to

be kidding I think. Then I take one.

RUNNERS HIGH

Three-quarters of an hour two beers and one

unisex changing room later and I’m sitting on

the dazzlingly bright terrace of Restaurant Hotel

Niesen-Kulm taking it all in. It’s an extraordinary

spot. I never imagined that the ESB Run-Up would

be bettered for stop-and-gawp finish-line impact

but the summit of the Swiss Pyramid as the

Niesen is fondly known is out on its own. I have

a pilot’s-eye view of the cloud-dappled valley f loor

far below yet sit above the cloud line. There’s the

visceral thrill of knowing that I’ve got all the way

up here under my own steam; and it’s not often you

get to run a (linear) race for 90-odd minutes yet

can still make out the start line when you’re done.

The race is won by 25-year-old Jonathan

Schmid in what must surely have been an

infuriating one hour and 20 seconds. A quick chat

with the tall Swiss confirms as much. ‘I really

wanted to break the hour mark’ he says mustering

an unconvincing smile. Second is Friedrich Dahler

a man with some serious vertical pedigree – he

holds the world record for the most metres climbed

in 24 hours (20407m). It’s pretty much a rule I’ve

found that whenever you do something extreme

there’s always someone who’s way out in front of

you on the scale.

Prizes are handed out in a low-key ceremony on

the terrace (fourth Silas Walther gets the Odor-

Eaters) and everyone settles down to eat drink and

recover. I sit with Bruno and race organiser Urs

Wohler a jovial bear of a man. Bruno who loves

this mountain so much he wrote a book about it

• Der Niesen und seine Bahn (there’s a chapter on

then coast then commit a bit more. This is relentless. A dull ache takes hold of my
quads and calves which over the next hour or so will morph into a jagged burning
sensation and a stream of sweat falls from the peak of my cap.
The variable surface is another challenge I’ve not anticipated. Single f light this
may be but it’s divided into multiple short segments: neat trellised steel steps;
narrow bricked ones; improvised stone steps so high you need both hands and a
little momentum to even scale. Some sections have handrails others have nothing.
One unstable stretch has an accompanying rope which I f lail at.
I dig in and clamber on ignoring my first ‘treppe’ request from behind for a good
10 seconds before relenting. The gradient is shocking in places; a stone I dislodge
slips into the track-side channel and bounces off down the mountainside to land in
the river possibly as much as a minute later. Running down this staircase would be
not just impossible but quite possibly lethal.
The first and only refreshment station comes just over halfway at around 6000
steps in at the Schwandegg or middle station. I enter a cool dimly lit tunnel and
then abruptly the staircase stops and a walkway takes me 20 metres across to a
parallel track. This is the point where passengers on the Niesenbahn must change
from one distinctive red carriage to another. This enables the railway to operate on
two wires rather than a single impractically heavy one.
I gulp down multiple plastic cups of water and orange squash suddenly chilly
in my saturated top and shorts and dine liberally at the refuelling buffet. It’s fairly
standard stuff save for the enormous hunks of chocolate that I almost instantly
regret gorging on. ‘Ah you’re English!’ one of the volunteers says when I offer my
thanks. ‘Keep going. You’re almost there.’
Well not really. Not at all in fact. Another 5000 steps (give or take) is going to
sting a bit I’m fairly certain of it. Exiting the tunnel I get on the heels of a woman
who has a neat efficient technique and slipstream her for a welcome 10 minutes or
so. If my pained wheezing bothers her she has the grace not to let it show. I steal
a look back: behind stretching away to little more than dots far below figures are
bowed against the gradient emerging from tunnels and scrambling up the track like
rodents. It’s a surreal sight: part race part train-crash evacuation. 
It’s around three-quarters of the way through that I spot Bruno. A tall
effervescent fellow and a training partner of the late Ueli Steck (a legendary
mountaineer and speed climber) he’s performing the role of official
photographer this year. But he would clearly rather be out here taking part
as he has done every year since the race began. A paragliding accident has
forced him to pull out; the hand he damaged is bandaged up his telephoto lens
propped in his cocked wrist. I’m fading fast and craving some encouragement.
I don’t get it from Bruno. ‘Here he is – the Brit!’ he shouts. ‘What took you so long?’

I CAN BARELY STAND MY VISION

IS OBSCURED BY SWEAT AND I’M

SEEING STARS. WHEN THESE CLEAR

I SPOT A TENT SERVING BEERS

Stair-running know-how from Suzy Walsham eight-time winner of the ESB Run-Up

If you’re going to race on stairs

train on stairs. Start small and

build from there. If you attempt

40 storeys straight of you’ll

fail and it will knock your

conidence. Far better to do

10 loors then have a rest.

Walking two stairs at a time is

faster than running one at a

time so aim for this. Running

up the steps two at a time

as I do is quite tough for the

beginner but it is possible

with some practice.

In races with a handrail use

it to pull yourself up. It’s

allowed and it helps take

some of the load of your

legs. Techniques vary; some

runners use a double handhold

to haul themselves up.

Start far slower than you think

you need to. If you go too fast

you’ll blow up which I can tell

you is horriic. I try to maintain

a constant pace and rhythm all

the way up but some people

get overexcited.