Running Mozart 100km By UTMB (Austria)
Some races capture your imagine. The Mozart 100km, by UTMB, certainly captured mine.
Hosted in the Austrian city of Salzburg, the route takes runners on a tour of the surrounding mountains. Containing an incredible 16,500 feet of elevation gain and some technical mountain trails, in the middle of June, this was set to be one of my toughest ultra marathon challenges yet.
Gear I used during Mozart 100km
Helyvellyn Carbon Z-Poles (Harrier) - My second time using poles in a race, and they held up brilliantly
Hoka Speed Goat 3s, wide fit. Linked to Speed Goat 5s, as I'm not sure they offer new Speed Goat 3s anymore
Go Pro HERO 9 Camera for filming my YouTube video
The logistics for the Mozart 100km – A travel and accommodation nightmare
Being a Brit, living in South East England, I had some logistical planning and execution to do.
The only time I’ve ever missed a flight (not my fault!)
I booked a return flight from London to Austria, and a hotel in Salzburg a 15-minute walk away from the starting line. I arranged to fly out two days before race day to have some chilled time in Salzburg, before picking up my race number the day before and getting ready to race with a great night’s sleep and rest. Unfortunately, things didn’t go to plan.
On travel day, the flight from the airport was scheduled with Lufthansa. A German airline which I have not used before. Being out of season, a connecting flight was necessary in Frankfurt, Germany. However, due to a passenger being late to board the London flight, a massive walk from the landing gate in Frankfurt to the next flight gate, and the need to go through security again, I along with another passenger, missed my connecting flight.
Up to that moment, I had never missed a flight in my life.
A text from Lufthansa, the airline, soon dinged on my phone which informed me that my flight would be rescheduled to the next day and that I’d receive free accommodation in a Frankfurt hotel. This made me feel a bit better, but I was pretty annoyed that I’d be missing my first day in Salzburg and forgoing some of the exploration and activities that I’d planned all because of the Airlines organisational blip.
I spent the next three hours in Frankfurt airport trying to re-book my flight for the next day and to get my hotel accommodation and meal voucher. Luckily, I met and buddied up with the other traveller who had missed her flight like me. We got on well and tried to find some positives and humour in the situation.
I won’t go into it in this article, but my return flight back to England suffered the same fate and Lufthansa ended up re-organising my flight again, giving me another night of accommodation in Frankfurt, and I missed out on an extra days rest before going back to work. I was not too pleased with the airline.
Arriving in Salzburg and my horrendous pre-race ‘sleep’
After a decent buffet meal, and a night in Frankfurt, I again headed through airport security and boarded for Salzburg. I arrived at about 12pm and got an Uber from the airport to my hotel.
After checking in and making myself comfortable, I headed down to Kapitelplatz to the Mozart 100 headquarters and picked my race number up.
It was a beautiful summer’s day in Austria. The sun was shining, the streets were full of tourists enjoying the culture, and I marvelled at the beautiful baroque period architecture which lined the roads.
I wondered through Salzburg, and soaked in as much as I could. I climbed the big ascent towards the Hohensalzburg Fortress and paid admission for an obligatory tourism visit. This is the biggest fully preserved castle in central Europe, and it truly is a site to behold in person.
Not wanting to tire myself out too much, I made my way back to my hotel room and went to bed at 8pm. With the 5am start the next morning, I wanted to be feeling fresh and ready to go. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen.
What I didn’t realise, was that my hotel room was opposite a large courtyard with several neighbouring hotel balconies. Being a popular location for tourists to relax and let loose, there were tonnes of people out on their balconies partying until 1am shouting, screaming, and being drunk. This made sleep pretty much impossible for me, and I tossed and turned for ages and started to feel nervous about the lack of sleep impacting my race.
Despite politely asking hotel reception if I could change room to the other side and away from the noise, the hotel was fully booked and I was doomed to my noisy, sleep deprived fate. With the shouting still going on, I managed to drift off at around 11.30pm.
Next time I book any hotel, I am reading through every review I can get my hands on. Lesson learned.
Race day morning
After my questionable night of ‘sleep’, I woke up at 3.45am, applied sunscreen, anti-chaffing balm, and put my race gear on. After a breakfast heavy in carbs, including croissants, bread, and some cured meats, I headed out of my hotel and into the Salzburg darkness. The race started at 5am, sharp.
I felt slightly knackered from the sleep issues, but the anticipation and excitement for the huge day ahead gave me a mental boost. I soon forgot about feeling tired.
To my surprise, there were many tourists roaming the streets still on a high from their night out.
At Kapitelplatz, I deposited my drop bag, which I’d be able to access twice at St. Gilgen which is aid station 6 (50km) and aid station 8 (68km). With my drop bag sorted, my race number on, and my gear all ready, all that was left to do was to line up with hundreds of other runners, and get ready to race the Mozart 100 2023. I couldn’t wait.
Kapitelplatz - Hinterwinkl, 0-11.9km
The first 8km were incredibly flat and very chilled. Being bunched up with the starting pack, and being so early on in the race, I saw no need to push too hard.
I made my way through the streets of Salzburg city, and quickly headed towards the mountains. At about 8km in, we made our way out of the city outskirts and headed up a steep ascent into the hills.
Wanting to preserve my leg energy as much as I could, with so much climbing to come, I got my poles out and made quick work of the first ascents.
In the latter portion of this leg, I was treated to a gorgeous sunrise as night finished its transition into day. The fresh air, the mist in the valleys below, and the fantastic atmosphere from the participants, made me quickly realise that doing this race was a good idea.
Hinterwinkl - Hof, 11.9 - 22.2km
I left aid station 1 in a time of 1 hour and 24 minutes, and 1,000 feet of elevation gained.
At the aid station, I had some Red Bull and quickly ate a sports bar. I was in and out very quickly, and left feeling good and in hight spirits.
The sun continued to rise and on I continued down some tarmac roads, and weaved my way through the majestic Austrian Alps.
At this point, I was very surprised by how much paved surface there was. When I imagined the race in my head, it was literally 90% on the trail but up to this point the run had been primarily on road with a few stints on some more mountainous trails. Things were about to change pretty quickly, though.
I made my way across fields, past medieval looking farm buildings, and through some dense woodland trails. The paths were exceptionally well maintained, and I started to feel in my element.
I did a video check in at 19.6km in, having climbed 2,000 feet in a time of 2 hours 20 minutes.
I recalled the weather forecast I’d read ahead of the race. It was forecast to climb to highs of 25 degrees Celsius, although it would stay at around 22 degrees for the majority of the day with no rain expected. Ideal conditions for summer running in the central European Alps.
Hof - Tiefbrunnau, 22.2km - 31.9km
After a quick stop for water, a banana and some light sweets at Hof aid station, I continued on my adventure.
The start of this leg was paved path and road heavy, but we soon crossed a busy road being marshalled by a UTMB official and made our way up some dense woodland onto the trail.
We started the first monstrous climb of the race, and I got my poles out and got to work. Looking at the race map, it looks like we climbed Fibling which stands at an impressive 1,307m above sea level.
On the way up, views of the mountain town in the valley below were spectacular and I imagined what life would be like living in such a stunning location.
I made it to 27.5km and did a video check in halfway up Fibling. 3 hours and 45 minutes on the clock.
This was the first time in the race where I felt like the terrain was fairly technical and challenging. It wasn’t because of stones, nor was it because of the elevation gain. It was tree roots. All the way up this climb, tree roots had emerged from the ground below and were sporadically placed on the path like small speedbumps. This climb required lots of concentration, physically and mentally, to power myself up whilst making sure I didn’t trip.
I felt truly in the flow state at this point, and I was totally immersed in the experience. One of my favourite parts about trail running.
I finally reached the top of the climb and enjoyed a long, almost flat, run on a ridge, before making my way back down the other side and through more winding trails with plenty of rocks, steps, and tree roots underfoot.
One thing I noticed early on, and like my experience taking on Ultra Trail Snowdonia 50km in May 2023, was that my descents were not great. Whilst I could power my way up hills and find an almost robot-like rhythm with ease, descending with skill and finesse was not so easy going and I found I lost time and momentum during the downhills.
Tiefbrunnau - Faistenauer Schafberg, 31.9km - 37.1km
Leaving Tiefbrunnau (aid station 3), I’d amassed 4,500 feet of elevation in a time of 4 hours and 35 minutes.
It was only whilst drinking, and replenishing my water bottles, at the aid station that I realised how tough the previous stretch from Hof to Tiefbrunnau was. I knew this because the Red Bull I guzzled down tasted absolutely glorious, and like it was much needed.
Being at roughly a third of the way in, I jumped back into the saddle and headed off. I weaved my way along country roads, with yet more impressive views of greenery, valleys and mountains all around.
Sprinkled along the remote route were occasional residential houses, farm buildings, and lodge accommodation, which looked very much in theme with the simple rustic nature of the Alps. This really added to the charm of the route.
After an initial stint on roads, I soon found myself on an incredibly steep climb up a gravel path. During this ascent, I noticed the hot sun on my neck and decided to switch from my Adidas Terrex lightweight cap to a more sunshine appropriate Sahara hat. I wasn’t winning any awards for being the best dressed runner, but it felt good having my ears and neck protected.
The gravel path continued steadily upwards, broken up with the occasional cutting through trees on steep woodland slopes. Eventually, I emerged into a clearing with a winding path gradually making its way up hill to the top of the mountain.
I got chatting to a fellow runner, and after a bit of discussion found out that we lived a thirty-minute drive from each other in our home county of Kent, England. What are the odds of us both not only doing the same race abroad, but also encountering and chatting to each other during the race? It’s a very small world!
On the ascent, I had my first view of what springs to mind when I think of the Austrian Alps. Cows with bells on their necks. Lots of them. Cows would be a common site during the middle third of the race, and it was cool hearing their bells ringing in the distance or up close depending on how close they got to the path.
One cow decided to stand right in the middle of the entrance of the Faist. Schafberg aid station. This can be seen in my race vlog, linked above, at about 7 minutes 40 seconds in. The cow didn’t seem phased at all, and it looked like he enjoyed soaking up the warm sun which was now out in full force. I didn't blame him. It was a gorgeous day.
This leg was definitely one of the tougher ones in the whole race. But, as I was later going to find out in the form of the mighty Scafberg climb, it was about to get harder.
At the aid station, I filled up my bottles, had a bit more Red Bull, and had some sweets and fruit.
My nutrition strategy up to this point seemed to be working pretty well. Eat and drink little, often, and aim for a somewhat even balance of calories from solid (real foods) and more liquid means like drinks and energy gels.
Faistenauer Schafberg - Zwölferhorn, 37.1km - 45km
Leaving the aid station, I was at 5 hours 40 minutes and had clocked up 6,500 feet.
I made my way down Faistenauer Schafberg, through some narrow trails and past many more cows who had strayed onto the path to see some of the race action.
The first chunk of this leg was pretty nice going underfoot, being wide trail roads which had been cut into the mountain surrounded by dense woodland on either side.
Eventually, we made our way onto the more rocky climb up to Zwölferhorn and I slowly but surely winded my way up the mountain. For many moments during this ascent, I had a clear line of site for what felt like as far as the eye could see into the valleys below. It was a special moment, being so high up in the Alps and running in such great weather.
Eventually, I made it to the Zwölferhorn aid station and again ate some fruit, had a bar, and replenished my water bottles. I was surprised to still be feeling so good after having been going since 5am.
Zwölferhorn - St. Gilgen, 45km - 51.3km
Leaving aid station 5, I was 7 hours in and had amassed 8,000 feet in elevation gain. Being 12pm, the sun was entering its most intense period of the day but I was grateful to have some occasional protection from the clouds above.
The descent down Zwölferhorn, and into St. Gilgen, has to be some of the most incredible trail running views I’ve ever experienced. In my video check in (about 9 minutes 30 seconds into the video), I described the experience as magical and as I write this I would double down on that sentiment.
Coming down the mountain, the trails were wide and spacious, and I could see the beautiful Wolfgangsee Lake in the distance. It looked like a painting.
I glided my way down the gradual descent, and into and through occasional dark, dense woodlands which temporarily blocked the sun. In between woodland stints, I could see gondolas above me which were ferrying tourists and holiday makers to the top of Zwölferhorn.
At the bottom of the trail, the path narrowed and – with a few drops on the right hand side – I took my time on the descent. Eventually, I stepped onto a road and could see tonnes of houses, vehicles and people all around. I had arrived in St. Gilgen. A charming village which sits on the edge of Wolgangsee Lake.
I moved steadily through the streets, as the sun continued to roar above. At this point, is was the middle of the day and I was starting to feel the heat a bit.
Luckily, I was in the best place for a bit of mid-race rest. St. Gilgen is a key milestone in the race, sitting at 51.3km and roughly halfway. Being perhaps the biggest and most resourced aid station on the course, its also where you get to access your drop bag. Running the full distance Mozart 100, I’d be back at St.Gilgen later for a second pit stop after Schafberg.
At the station, I took some time to sort myself out. I changed my top, which was a lovely feeling given that the top I’d been wearing was covered in sweat. I ate some Lion chocolate bars (delicious), some crisps, drank some Coca Cola, applied another layer of sunscreen, and sat down for a moment. In total, I spent about 10 minutes at St Gilgen Aid station and when I left I felt refreshed and like I’d reset myself.
Recently, I’ve tried taking the approach that time spent at stations is an investment. Whilst it may seem like an unnecessary upfront time and effort cost, it will pay dividends later on in the race (assuming you did the right things during your aid station stop).
St. Gilgen - Schafberg, 51.3km - 62km
Leaving St. Gilgen, it was 1pm and I’d been running for 8 hours. With the sun blaring and feeling slightly fatigued, I embarked for what would be the toughest leg of the whole course. I was about to climb Schafberg.
This leg features 1049m (3,441 feet) of elevation gain in under 10 kilometres. That is a lot. At the time of the race, I wasn’t 100% clued up about the intricacies of the course and the elevation so this was a bit of a surprise. In a way, I’m glad I didn’t know about the Schafberg climb because I might have ended up mentally dreading it throughout the first half.
I circled my way around the beautiful Wolfgangsee Lake on the paved trail. With the temperatures rising, the crystal clear blue water looked pretty tempting for a quick dip. I shook off the temptation, and remembered I had a race to finish. There’d be plenty of time for cold showers after crossing the finish line.
I followed the course markings and made my way up a steep and wide trail with plenty of greenery, trees and vegetation on the sides. There were plenty of hikers and tourists about, enjoying the magnificently maintained trails and I greeted them with ‘hallo’ in a dodgy German accent and smiled.
Halfway up the initial ascent, I went off course by quite a way and a French runner shouted ‘mauvaise voie!’ (wrong way!). I did a 180-degree turn, came back on myself down the trail, and thanked him with a ‘merci’ and we chatted for a while as we continued our ascent. I said how I was grateful that the runners looked out for each other on the course, and it was an opportunity to brush up on my French which I wasn’t expecting to do. Being in a German speaking country and all.
I weaved my way through and slowly up the mountain, passing grassy fields and managing terrain which was turning very rocky underneath.
I did a video check in at 9 hours and 30 minutes, at 60km, and I remarked that I hit the 10,000 feet mark in elevation gain. This felt like a key moment for me, and I was feeling confident about my climbing.
I’d been using my poles up to that point very consistently, and I intended to carry on using them on the ascents. There are mixed opinions about the use of poles in the trail running community but, for me in long mountain ultras like this, they are a godsend. Being able to rely on my arms for some power and stability, to relieve some of the load from my legs, was a massive help. I really valued having poles with me during the Schafberg climb, which was an absolute monster.
The last climb up to the Schafberg aid station was particularly brutal. The gradient was steep, the terrain was rocky and it started to include thick tree roots. It seemed to go on and on and on and on. With the climb seemingly never ending, and the terrain being similar all the way up, I felt like I was in an old movie where the characters are driving in a car and they keep playing the same background behind the action.
My legs were starting to feel the effects of all the climbing, and I started to develop a bit of soreness in my quads. Nothing too crazy though, and I had no doubts about my ability to finish.
Eventually, after what seemed like forever, I saw a light and the trail opened up to a grassy plain and the next aid station came into site.
Schafberg - St. Gilgen, 62km - 69.1km
I left Schafberg aid station with 10 hours and 21 minutes on the clock, having climbed 11,462 feet.
Whilst the previous leg was all about ascent, this leg was all about descent. Featuring 994m of elevation loss, I got ready for my quads to take a beating on the way down.
This was another brutal leg for me. I cut my way down the mountain, through the woods, on some narrow and highly technical trails which seemed to twist and turn at every opportunity.
Rocks and steps peppered the floor, and the occasional tree root provided an extra obstacle for good measure. On the way down, I managed to get some momentum and I felt truly locked into the moment. Totally focused on where my feet were falling to keep making progress and to prevent a fall.
My quads a bit sore from the downhill beating, I eventually found a road and made my way past a pen filled with beautiful horses. Enjoying the peace and quiet on the Summer day.
After some crossings on grassy trails, I found myself back at Wolfgangsee lake and made my way back around the other side before heading back into the St.Gilgen aid station.
St. Gilgen - Fuschl am See, 69km - 76.6km
By this point, the sun was starting to set and the shadows of the St. Gilgen buildings were slowly sloping into the street paths. Whilst there were some steep trail climbs, lots of this leg featured flat road, which was a nice break from the constant up and down, climb and descent, pattern I’d experienced thus far.
I headed up through some dense woods, following the course markings, and saw a few runners showing visible signs of fatigue. I thought about how I was feeling, and surprisingly I felt pretty strong still. I had paced myself well, and never really felt totally exhausted at any point so far. I passed a few runners and congratulated them for their efforts, and carried on.
I made my way onto a long road, wedged in between some tall mountains, and got a few kilometres of solid road running in. This was a good moment to physically reset, and I took the opportunity to focus on getting a gel and some sips of water in rather than focusing on navigating technical trails.
I passed along a flat river, on the trail, and soon found myself in a small urban area of Fuschl am See.
12 hours 52 minutes on the clock, 12,500 feet in elevation climbed.
Fuschl am See - Hof, 76.6km - 86.8km
At the Fuschl am See aid station, my nutrition preferences took a massive turn. Up to that point, I’d relied solely on sweet stuff. Bars, energy gels, chocolate, Red Bull, fruits. I had a sudden urge for savoury food, and found myself eating lots of cheese, bread and sausage which I was very grateful for.
Every bite tasted delicious, and I was happy to have had no stomach issues to get some solid food in.
Having progressed to approximately 3 quarters of the way in, I was feeling in high spirits and
determined to finish. Despite the sun obviously setting, it was still out in a fierce force so I kept up with my sunglasses and Sahara hat.
I made my way along some well shaded trails which were fairly flat. Next, through some big fields via tarmac roads and I jumped back onto the trail. Suddenly, there was a steep set of steel stairs to climb which for some reason felt a lot trickier on the legs than the steep gradients.
I passed what felt like the only main road I’d seen all day, back through some more trails, before arriving back at the Hof aid station. This was my second visit at Hof aid station. From this point, the course follows some of the same route taken during the first half before cutting across Wieselberg and finishing on a new route back into Salzburg to the finish.
Hof - Koppl, 86.8km - 97.6km
14 hours and 39 minutes clocked up, with 13,580 feet climbed. I left Hof and did a video check in, sharing my thoughts about how good it felt to still be feeling fresh in the latter stages of the race. I put this down to a good nutrition strategy, which I had learnt the hard way during my major catastrophe in my May 2023 Thames Path 100 mile race DNF at mile 84.
I made my way back through the roads and trails I’d taken earlier that day. The sun was well and truly on its way down, and I got chatting to a Swiss runner for a couple of Kilometres. Unfortunately, I saw a runner in quite a bad way throwing up and stopped to offer any assistance I could. There was a language barrier, but I could tell he wanted me to continue and that he would be fine. I offered some water, gels, which he politely declined, and carried on.
The visibility started to reduce, and on I went. Past meadows, fields, through woodland trails, and on towards the finish.
Halfway through the leg, I swapped my Sahara hat for my regular Adidas Terrex breathable cap and put my headtorch on. Ready for the night to arrive.
At 9.20pm, I entered a dense section of woods with a paved wide trail and decided to turn the headtorch on. The last views I had of the Austrian alps, in these moments, were magical. The moment where day had almost turned to night.
Up a steep road, I saw a light in the distance and I made my way to the Koppl aid station.
I took a moment to sit down and eat even more bread, cheese and sausage. I don’t know why, but I couldn’t get enough of the savoury stuff at this point. Perhaps I needed the salt, or the protein, late on in the race. There were a few deckchairs which some runners seemed to be enjoying. Whilst they looked tempting, I knew it would be a risky move to sit in them. Beware of the chair, as they say in the ultra running world.
Koppl - ZIB, 97.6km - 104.1km
16 hours 46 minutes in with 15,200 feet under my belt, I put my headtorch on and went back into the night.
Due to the reduced visibility, I wasn’t able to capture any quality footage of this section for my vlog. It was incredibly technical, and there were tonnes of rocks and tree roots to look out for. The darkness made the going extra tough and the runners around me had moved into a single file line. There were tonnes of steps etched into the trail, and we carefully made our way up and down them, to keep making progress.
Eventually, I came to some very long stair descents. By that point, my quads were pretty knackered and each step down was a sharp stinging sensation in my quads. Having almost reached the 100km mark, I put the pain out of my mind and continued on.
I found myself on a small makeshift trail on the side of a busy road with cars roaring past, and headed back towards Salzburg. I passed some bus stops, people going about their daily lives, and over a metal bridge. It felt strange, after a day in the rural mountains, to be back in civilisation again.
ZIB - Salzburg, 104.1km - 108km
At ZIB, the final aid station, the vibes from the volunteers were incredible. Though I was pretty knackered by this point, and feeling ready to for the finish line and bed, the volunteers were laughing, joking and playing upbeat music. A nice touch, so close to the end. As I was about to find out, I needed the encouragement. There was still one big climb to come.
Again, I wasn’t majorly knowledgeable on the course and the climbs before I ran it. My brother, who was in Cornwall in the UK at a wedding, had been tracking my progress all day and had been sending me occasional texts of encouragement. He sent me a text as I left ZIB saying ‘you’re smashing it brother, just one last big climb to go and you’re home!’
The text surprised me. I was in the middle of an urban, civilised area. In Salzburg city. How on earth could there be another big climb to go? What I didn’t realise was that Salzburg is home to a massive hill called Kapuzinerberg, which is a 640m peak situated in the middle of the city. With a sudden massive increase in gradient and a sharp turn up to the hill, the last climb was on.
This section took me a while. The ascent was incredibly steep, and the reduced visibility made me pay extra attention to where my feet were going. I inched through the darkness, guided by my head torch, and kept putting in the work. Eventually, I made it to the top and started the descent on the other side. Tonnes of flights of stairs broke up the journey back down to city level, and my quads again started to sting.
Eventually, I came across a very large and steep set of stone stairs and I could see the hustle and bustle of city lights directly below me. I had made it. Almost.
I descended the stairs and spilled out onto the scene of a busy Saturday night in Salzburg City centre. Tourists were having fun, drinking and eating outside of pubs and restaurants, cheering me and the other runners on. I saw the bridge to Kapitelplatz which I’d crossed that morning to line up for the start, and I knew I was home.
I triumphantly hurried along the bridge, did my final video check in, and turned the corner onto the square. There it was. The finish line. I’d done it. The Mozart 100km, 2023.
My performance and thoughts on the Mozart 100
My Strava performance from the race.
I finished 356th out of 551 finishers in a time of 19 hours, 1 minute, and 20 seconds. With it being such a tough course, there were 139 who did not finish.
This was definitely my favourite ultra marathon yet and the day was nothing short of epic. The distance was tough, the terrain was challenging yet fairly runnable, and the climbs pushed me to new heights. Literally.
I felt like I did well in terms of my pacing strategy, and in my ascents which I found particularly fun. Also, I made big strides in my nutrition strategy (which has been a major problem for me in past ultras), and I was pleased to balance the ‘liquid’ food like gels with physical ‘real’ food like bread, cheese and sausage. My biggest issue which hindered me during the race was my descents. My quads were lacking a bit of conditioning which made the latter drops in elevation particularly challenging. All good learning for the future.
Overall, the Mozart 100 is an exceptional race and I loved every single minute of it. I’d recommend it to any runners looking to take on a new challenge, in the most beautiful of settings. This race will always be a special one to me as my first ever race in a foreign country. It was well organised, well resourced, the support was fantastic, and it was a pleasure meeting so many likeminded runners out on the course.
I hope you enjoyed this incredibly long article, and thank you for sticking with it to the end.
If you’re thinking of running the Mozart 100km some day, or have already run it, let me know in the comments.
Thanks for reading.
Craig
Running Cafe
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