Go for it, Ladies: Women in Mountains
Top photo: Adrien Colleur
The streets of Zermatt are narrow and although the sun came up a couple hours ago, sunlight hasn’t reached its fingers down between the buildings to the cobbled streets. I crane my neck to see the steeple of the church poking above the rooftops, even though I know we aren’t far – I’d heard the bells ringing 9 a.m. a few minutes earlier. Otherwise it’s nearly as still and quiet as Zermatt gets. The Matter Vispa river rages blue-grey glacier melt down its concrete channel. I have to dodge a few little electric vans zipping around delivering goods to hotels and restaurants, with every step reminding me that I’d been wearing ski boots for twenty-two and a half hours. I glance behind me to check for Valentine, though it’s not really necessary: there is no sound quite like the clacking of carbon ski boots on pavement.
We finally surge our last few steps up to the church, and then collapse – partially onto the weathered wooden door and partially into a hug.
We did it – again!
On April 7, 2026, exactly 5 years and and 4 days after becoming the first women to ever ski from Chamonix to Zermatt on the famed Haute Route in one push, Valentine Fabre and I set a new record: 22 hours and 35 minutes to traverse 106 kilometers and over 8,100 meters of vertical gain.
Then, 3 days later, Marie Pollet-Villard and Laurie Renoton beat us.
The story I want to tell
It is hard to know exactly where to begin the story. Should we start with our departure from the Chamonix church on April 6th? Should we start with the day in 2025 when Gaelle Perrier and Clara Masserey beat our first record and motivated us to give it another go? Should we go back to that first record in 2021 when we stumbled into Zermatt and wrote our names in the history books for the first time? Should we start when Valentine and I first met? Or when she assisted her late husband on his first attempts to set a record? Or when Docteur Payot first made the traverse himself in 1903? Or Lucy Walker’s first female ascent of the Matterhorn in 1871? Or Marie Paradis on Mont Blanc in 1808?
I suppose that all depends on the story that I want to tell.
The story that I think I want to tell is not really linear, and begins after our second record on the Haute Route – one day later, in fact, as I was hanging the clothes to dry and hauling out the bins to put my gear away. My phone had been pinging all day: friends and family congratulating us, journalists wanting a quote, our support team sharing satisfied messages and photos. But I was taken off guard when a friend called with some surprising news: another duo was going for the record, starting tomorrow afternoon. I hadn’t seen it coming. When we’d talked to a meteorologist on Monday and made the call to go on Tuesday, it had looked like the weather window was going to close Thursday, so I hadn’t even considered that someone else might go for it. I had told my coach that I knew there was room for improvement, but that I thought we were safe until next year.
And so arrived a tangle of mixed emotions. Admittedly, the first one was accompanied by a groan. Seriously? We just set a new record! Let us have it for a while! Then I reminded myself that this is the nature of mountain projects: conditions are fickle, and when there is a window, everyone goes for it; it’s normal. My brain ping-ponged about. I wanted them to succeed – what a victory for women’s sport! I wanted them to fail – the record would remain ours! I wanted the weather window to close – too bad, try again next year! I wanted to give them advice so they would be as well prepared as possible. I wanted to go for it again myself. My feet still hurt; I never wanted to do that again.
The next day, I made my way back to Chamonix, and sat in the shade looking at the Saint Michel church. I knew those church steps. Though I’m not particularly religious myself, they had nonetheless been the start and the finish of many adventures for me, like so many people taking on some of Chamonix’s greatest challenges. I thought about the heightened emotions I had experienced there. Anxiously waiting until my self-appointed time to set off to Zermatt or toward the summit of Mont Blanc. Collapsing as exhaustion and waves of emotion washed over me when I set the Mont Blanc record. It is a special place.
I waited for the pair to arrive and nervously chewed on my fingernails. When they did, they were discreet. I was familiar with their nervous glances. A few of their friends and family members were there to see them off, and we cheered them as they left the church and took off down the road, skis bouncing on their backs.
Meaningful records
I went home, and commenced waiting. My emotions continued to run roughshod over me. How does it feel to set a record? How does it feel to lose a record? What is the point of a record in any case?
Setting records, I concluded, is not a path to long-term happiness and satisfaction. At least not if you are setting the record for the sake of having glory and your name attached to it until the end of your days. Records are made to be broken – they mark an achievement at a given time or place, but nearly every record that exists will be broken at some point. That is just the nature of records. Of course, I think it is normal for part of the motivation of a record attempt to be the satisfaction of knowing that you are the very fastest or very best at something at that point in time. However, I can also attest to the fact that at least for me, glory alone is not a big enough motivator.
Often, for a meaningful record, you have to endure months of training and preparation, and a single-minded focus on that record. In order to sustain that, personally, I need a little more motivation. When I set out to try to break a record, I always have multiple goals in mind. Glory, yes, but also I want to test my own limits physically and mentally. I want to prove things to myself and I want to learn things. I want to develop a relationship with a place – preferably spend a fair bit of time there and try to understand the environment and the history. I want to accumulate experience and skills that will make the record possible. I want to share a human experience with partners or the folks that support me along the way. I have done records with a goal of putting other people or issues in the spotlight. And because I compete and perform in a milieu that is still largely male dominated, I want to show that it is possible for women to do it, and I want to inspire other women to take on big challenges.
My level of success at each of these objectives helps inform the satisfaction that I feel afterward. Which is to say that I can feel satisfaction even if I don’t “succeed” in the generally accepted way of setting a record. If I have succeeded in other elements of my goal, then the record itself is somehow less important.
Satisfaction
Which brings me back to the Haute Route. Friday night, I went to bed. Saturday morning, I woke up, knowing that Laurie and Marie were most likely still making their way to Zermatt – either ahead or behind Valentine’s and my time. And in some ways, knowing that they were out there was incredibly satisfying. In 2021, when Valentine and I set out to ski from Chamonix to Zermatt in one push, no women had ever even dared to try. We didn’t know each other before, but the experience of training for and accomplishing the traverse helped us build a lasting friendship. We made a film about our experience and went on tour with it. At every screening we told people, Go for it, ladies! The record is beatable! But year after year passed, and no women went for it. Several men’s teams attempted, and the men’s record dropped further. We were satisfied that we had the record, but we were also a little frustrated to have failed in inspiring other women. We had succeeded at one of our objectives, but failed at another.
Then, in 2025, very quietly and humbly, Swiss athletes Gaëlle Perrier and Clara Masserey finally went for it, and lowered our time by nearly 3 hours. We had accomplished something too! More women were going for it – which was satisfying and motivating: finally, just what we needed to give it another go! Clara and Gaëlle set Valentine and I on our own path to share another winter of training – together, and with another friend, Elise Poncet, an extraordinary athlete in her own right. And on April 7th, when we ran up to the Zermatt church again, we had done it: we had set a record, but we had also shared an incredible experience together. We saw the sun set and rise over extraordinary mountains. We had honed our skillset and improved our own time by over 4 hours. Time would tell if we inspired more women, but I already felt satisfied.
We didn’t have to wait long to find out. When our record fell, just 3 days after we’d set it, I did feel some sadness. But because the satisfaction that I had felt was a product of succeeding in many goals rather than just one, “losing” the record didn’t have a great impact on my feeling of satisfaction. The sadness I felt was compensated for, because it was also an indicator of a greater achievement: inspiring more women. Today six women have completed the full traverse, seven if you count our friend Laëtitia, who only skipped the initial running section. Valentine’s and my names may not be on the record any more, but we have succeeded in our goals, and have gotten to play a part in the story of the new record this year, and the next records in years to come.
The streets of Zermatt are narrow and wind a bit over the kilometer between the end of the ski slope and the church. You glance behind you and see the Matterhorn towering over the valley, and you almost have to pinch yourself to make sure you’ve really truly made it there. And whether it is at the end of the Haute Route in Zermatt, or somewhere else on a summit, or at the end of a trail after a long day, I hope that all women get to feel that sense of satisfaction and sometimes nearly disbelief that they have achieved one of their myriad goals.
ITRA’s Women’s Trail Day
Global Celebration
On June 1, 2026 ITRA is prompting a global celebration of women hitting the trails together — to connect, enjoy, and champion female participation in trail running. Women around the world will take to the trails — not for time or trophies, but to celebrate what it means to move together.
Join the Strava Event from wherever you run in the world!
Celebrating Women’s Trail Day in Chamonix
In Chamonix, France – join us on May 31 for an in-person celebration of Women’s Trail Day with a relaxed 7-8km group trail run. Easy, social – suitable for all levels.
Date & Time: Sunday, May 31st at 10:30 AM
Start Location: Big Mountain Brewery, Chamonix
