Some races are measured in kilometres. Others are remembered in fragments: a thousand headlamps moving through the dark, the first light on pale rock, a riverbed with nowhere to hide from the sun, lightning counting down in the distance, and a town still awake long after the first runners have crossed the line.
This year, Atmo headed to the Dolomites for Lavaredo by UTMB. Two runners, two distances, one finish line in Cortina d’Ampezzo: 120 kilometres and 5,800 metres of elevation gain for one; 80 kilometres and 4,600 metres of elevation gain for the other.
Lavaredo 120K — 120 km / 5,800 m D+
Lavaredo 80K — 80 km / 4,600 m D+
When Cortina Goes Dark
For the 120K, it began at 11 p.m. in Cortina d’Ampezzo, a town still carrying the energy of the Winter Olympics held only a few months earlier. The streets were packed, the start line was loud, and then suddenly the race was underway: runners flowing out of town and into the darkness.
The first kilometres were anything but quiet. Fireworks burst above the valley while beams of light scattered across the mountain trails in every direction. Around 1,400 runners moved through the night, their headlamps creating a restless constellation over the Dolomites. At that moment, sleep deprivation did not yet exist. The darkness felt alive.
The 80K had a different beginning, starting the following morning from Val Marzon near Auronzo di Cadore. But both routes were drawn towards the same mountains, the same heat, and eventually the same finish in Cortina.
Sunrise at the Tre Cime
Nearly forty kilometres into the 120K, the night gave way to the Tre Cime di Lavaredo.
No photograph, no race preview and no description can properly prepare you for that moment. The three peaks appeared in the early light with an almost unreal stillness: immense, pale, sharp-edged and somehow detached from time. It did not feel like a landscape built for humans. It looked closer to the setting of a science-fiction film, a different planet frozen in stone.
For a few minutes, the fatigue of the night disappeared. The slow climbs, the cold, the hours spent following the narrow cone of a headlamp: all of it became irrelevant. There was only the trail, the first sunlight and the Tre Cime.
When the Heat Takes Over
Then the sun rose properly, and the race changed completely.
The forecast had warned of temperatures close to 30°C. By late morning, there was no longer any doubt. The climbs and descents continued to stack up, but the heat became its own obstacle. For several hours, the route followed an exposed riverbed with little shade and nowhere to escape the glare.
Runners slowed down. Some stopped wherever they could find a narrow strip of shadow, crouching against rocks or trees, trying to lower their temperature before moving again. In a race like Lavaredo, the terrain is never the only thing asking questions. The weather has its own way of doing it.
Col Gallina and the Storm
Beyond Col Gallina, the sky started to shift.
Despite the heat, a storm rolled over the mountains with remarkable speed. The air cooled, the wind picked up and the sky became electric. For a short while, the storm offered relief from the sun. Then, almost as quickly as it had arrived, it moved on.
But it left something behind: tension in the air, the kind that makes you look up more often than you should.
Running Against the Darkness
With roughly twenty kilometres remaining, the flashes began again. Lightning appeared beyond the ridges, followed by the delayed sound of thunder. We counted the seconds between each flash and each rumble, trying to calculate how far away it was.
It was getting closer.
At that point, the goal was no longer about a place or a time. It was about finding the last reserves of energy needed to reach Cortina before taking the headlamp back out. A few minutes could make the difference between finishing in the last glow of the day and returning to the darkness.
So we pushed. Through the final kilometres, through the tired legs, and into the last descent. Then, at last, Cortina appeared below.
A Finish Line That Was Still Alive
The town was still full. Even though the fastest runners had crossed those same cobblestones hours earlier, the finish line had lost none of its energy. People were still cheering. Music still filled the streets. Cortina welcomed every runner as if they had been there from the start.
The Atmo team reached the line only minutes apart, with just enough left in the legs for one final jump.
The Only Proper Recovery
After 80 or 120 kilometres through the Dolomites, there was only one sensible way to recover: a proper Italian feast. Polenta, pasta, pizza, and the kind of food that tastes better because it has been earned over mountains, heat, storms and a very long day outside.
Lavaredo reminded us why races like this matter. Not only for the landscapes or the finish line, but for everything in between: the shared uncertainty, the small decisions, the moments when the body wants to stop and the mind finds another reason to move.