Houilles - 6.9 km popular race

There are 2 races at Houilles, the last 'corrida' or town centre race to finish the calendar year in France each year. The most important of these is the 10km race, open to registered club athletes and providing a spectacle for both those participating and those watching from the sidelines. This year was no exception with 10 runners finishing under 29' and a sprint to separate the first 3 runners who cross the line within 2 seconds of each other.

This year however, I had decided to enter the popular race over 2 laps of the same circuit as the 10km race. Paul, my son and my brother and nephew, over from Australia also decided to run so we set up a little France v. Australia challenge to spice up the event. A quick warm-up and then we were down to the start line where I struggled to get a decent position. I was a good 10 - 12 rows back from the start with probably 400 hundred runners ahead of me. The streets around Houilles are narrow and I knew that the first kilometre would be difficult.

The gun went and we were off. Well almost. I shuffled forward for a few seconds before I crossed the start line and only then was I able to break into a jog. The next 500m were spent slaloming through the crowds with some other club runners who were obviously in the same situation as myself. I saw the split for the first kilometre - 3:59 ! I was only just managing marathon speed for a 7 km race.

As the runners spread out over the next couple of kilometres I was able to accelerate but I couldn't maintain either my motivation for the race, or my pace for that matter. The splits went as follows:

3:59, 3:28, 3:37, 3:40, 3:44, 3:42 and 3:34 pace to finish.

I was disappointed with myself as I couldn't bring myself to run faster and to push the pace or my heartrate any higher. I ran faster splits at Andrésy which was almost twice this distance. I finished the race and saw Jahom (or Philippe) who blogs regularly and who I follow. He ran a good 30 seconds faster than me to finish 8 places ahead and I spoke to congratulate him on his run and to tell him face to face that a sub 3 hour marathon was surely on the cards.

For the record, Australia won the challenge easily with my nephew running just under 2 minutes slower than me followed by my brother another 2 minutes behind and then Paul who ran 9 minutes less than me but off no training whatsoever. Paul and I need to improve by 3 minutes to beat them next time around.

Some photos of the race:

Cross Toto

Well, what to say when Nico has said it all already ?

Back home in time to take part in the annual cross-country event organised by the club for the club members. 2 laps of a 3 km loop for the men with one loop for the women. I looked at the potential  competition when I arrived and I fancied my chances for the top veteran position since Bruno W and Eric weren't around and I remembered how comfortable my advance was on José at the start of the year in the cross-country races. Things were looking up.

We warmed up by jogging to the start of the race in the forest close to Poissy and Nico was there waiting. He'd just run 3 x 20' at marathon speed but apparently he'd overdone it and had been running at around 3'45 - 3'50 pace. He said he was tired and I just smiled and thought that I would be able to pull back a race in the Nico v. James challenge. I'll rephrase that: I thought I'd be able to win my first race in the challenge this year as at 8 races down, things were not looking good.

We ran another loop of the course so that the new-comers could see the route and the difficulties. These are few in that there is a slight rise towards the end of the first kilometre and then a couple of long drags for the last 800m of the course. The rest is flat or downhill.

I lined up next to Yoan, Jean-Marc and Sébastien as these were the favourites and after the gun went I settled in just behind them. I let them pull away slightly after 1 km and then for the second kilometre I was running by myself. I felt relaxed and wasn't pushing too hard as I couldn't hear anyone behind me and I knew that I had no chance against the 3 in front. 4th place and 1st vet was fine by me.

As we hit the rise towards the end of the first lap, I heard footsteps behind me and knew that it was Nico. Having run kilometres and kilometres with him in training, I recognised the footfall and didn't need to turn around to see who it was. He caught my foot as we pushed up the hill and I stumbled slightly. He then proceded to pull alongside me and mentioned something about not letting me get away so easily. I thought that I'd hang on to him as he must be tired and try and pull away again if he flagged. We finished the first loop and I heard shouts of encouragement for us and José too so I knew he wasn't far behind. This was bad news as I knew that I couldn't let up now and  had to maintain my speed if I was to keep pole position for that vet spot.

Photo of Nico and I neck and neck at the end of the first lap with José 10 metres behind.











Nico pulled ahead slightly now and I had to accelerate to keep with him. The slight hump in the track appeared for the second time and as Nico put on a burst, I dropped back and he gained the 5 metres that he needed to pull away from me gradually now. I couldn't fin the willpower to go any faster and I just listened out for José's footsteps behind me now as they got closer and closer with 1 km left to go.


Nico had a good 40 metre lead now and José overtook me on the first slope before the finsihing line. The track flattens out for 50 metres and then slopes up another 350 metres to the finish. I pulled back past him on the flat section and accelerated hard towards the finish. A young lad (Jérôme) came past me here but I was sprinting now ensuring that José stayed behind and was discouraged from pulling off a sprint finish of his own. And it worked! He finished 4 seconds behind me while Nico ended 7 seconds ahead. I ran 22:27 which is my best time ever by 37 seconds for this course so I was still well chuffed. Shame that Nico is still better as it would have done him the world of good to learn a little humiliation. Still, his head is so big now that it'll weigh him down for his next marathon attempt... let's wait and see. Good to see José back in shape too. We can look forward to some good cross-country races in the new year.

Nico's version of the story is here if you have the guts to stomach the self-glory. 20 km all up for the morning.

CCC - Part 2 Trient - Chamonix

I run inside the feeding station marquee in Trient with a great sense of relief. I remember leaving Champex and thinking that there were 2 major obstacles before finishing the race: Bovine and the first climb; Catogne and the second climb over to Vallorcines. Since the Tete aux Vents had been cut from the route for weather reasons (and boy was it cold and miserable on top), there were no real difficulties after Vallorcines, just a little stroll up to Col des Montées before the final descent into Chamonix and the finish. I have completed the first obstacle and now there is only one to go before meeting Laurence again in Vallorcines.

I look around the feeding station and regret that Laurence was talked out of coming here. It's a big shelter like La Fouly and Champex with all the food and drink that you need. I try and eat some food and energy bars but my stomach has gone on strike. All food tastes retched now and I can't digest anything without feeling sick. I just down a few cokes and then I help myself to a cup of tea. The warmth from the tea is a huge comfort but my hand still shakes with the cold and exhaustion as I try to bring the cup to my lips. I can't control my shaking any longer either. My body is slowly starting to fall apart and I'm no longer in control of my movements. I do a quick check of my equipment: I swapped my Salomon shorts for Skins in Champex and I'm regretting the change. The Skins are too tight to pull up around the waist and the rubbing with the rucksack means that they fall down slowly and constantly, forcing me to yank them up every half hour or so. The rucksack is fine but I didn't need the front compartment which is more of a hindrance than a help when putting on or taking the rucksack off. The shoes and boosters are fine and apart from a slight niggle in my calf at the beginning of the race, my legs are fine, just tired. My North Face jacket is great and keeping me relatively dry. The sweat from my body is absorbed by the gore running top but there's no perfect solution for this. Laurence's gloves are a godsend, far better than the skimpy rubbish I used for the first part of the race. They are soaking wet however, but they still keep my hands warm even on the tops. Globally I'm doing alright despite the constant drizzle and moisture that pervades everywhere.

I look at the large screen that is in the marquee. They are showing the time since the start of the race at just over 11 hours and it's just after 9:00pm now. I'm in about 400th position in the race which I consider to be a fairly poor performance compared to my usual placing in a competition. It just shows the standard of the competitors in this race and the specific training necessary to be a good trail runner. Back to reality; Vallorcines is another 10km away and I still have another 750m to climb before reaching Catogne which is almost 5 km distant. I text Laurence and tell her that I need another 2 and a half hours from here to Vallorcines. It's time to go and reluctantly I leave civilisation again and head out into the dark.

The trail from Trient starts steadily enough leaving the village and then bending left back into the mountains. It's pitch black now and I've got the headlamp on to light up the way. It's easy to spot the other competitors as the lights are flickering up ahead in the distance and behind me when I turn around to see if anyone is catching me. I overtake a couple of runners as the walk slowly upwards now the path heads steeply up the hillside again. There aren't many people around me and the density of the race has diminished significantly compared to the first stages up until La Fouly. I stop every now and then to take a breather. This is new to me too. I can't continue walking uphill constantly without resting and I remind myself that Laurence is waiting and push on. I'm caught by a small group of runners including the couple I descended Bovine with. I manage to tack on behind another female runner and am just happy to follow in her footsteps. She asks if I want to go past and I tell her that I don't have the energy to overtake and I'm happy where I am. The snowline appears again and we must be at 1800m with another 250m to go to the top.

I've posted a video here of the countryside at night with the headlamp, just so that you can experience it for yourselves (admittedly this is coming down from Bovine and not up to Catogne but it's dark so what's the difference?):

With my female walking companion, we head upwards and the path flattens out, winding its way slowly around the hillside. She asks me if it's far to the top and I reply that I don't think so since my Garmin is showing an altitude of 2000m. The path winds on and the top still doesn't appear. Just when I wonder whether this will ever end, a couple of marshals are there with some flags and an open fire to signal the top at Catogne. They register my bib and I ignore the temptation to warm myself around the fire and begin to run again.

My legs ache as I run. My thighs are sore and I can't lift my legs properly. I keep going though and the woman I followed up is running down faster than me. The downhill is hard work as the visibility is close to zero; it's muddy and slippy down the track; it's too steep to be able to let yourself go without trying to hold back. I concentrate on where I'm putting my feet and moving forward at a regular pace. It's really hurting now though and I'm looking forward to getting to Vallorcines. I figure that once I get there and see Laurence then the race is in the bag. I will do what I came to do. I don't have any doubts that I'll finish the race at this stage - I'm determined to finish and although I may not do the time that I wanted to do (under 17 hours), I'll manage to get to the end which is what matters most. The track after heading right for some time takes a left turn and we head into the trees. I catch up with another couple of runners and I chase them down in the dark. We lose one of them and the other runner and I follow each other using 2 beams of light from the headlamps to improve visibility. The path seems to go down forever, in fact it descends for over 750m in altitude, and finally we see the lights of Vallorcine in the valley below.


The village lights spur us on and we jog out of the trees down to the village and the feeding station on the outskirts. I look for Laurence outside as I come down but there's no sign of her (in fact, she's been waiting inside for over two hours as she got too cold waiting for me outside). I enter the tent and am delighted to see her and she instantly proposes to go and fetch me a cup of tea. I sit down and she looks after me, asking if everything is alrght and refilling my water pouch for me. We talk briefly about the last section and the small climb to Col de Montées (+200m D+) before the downhill section to Argentières and Chamonix. She takes a photo of me and tells me that I look tired. I know I'm tired and just want to get moving and to get this over with now. I give an estimate of the time it will take me at around 2 hours. It's now just before midnight and I tell her that I'll be down somewhere between 2:00 and 2:30 am. A last kiss and I leave.

I'm happy to be out and on the last stretch. What's more, the going is straight forward as the path rises very gradually alongside playing fields and then the road. This sort of path would normally be no problem to jog along at a comfortable 10km/h but I'm well past the sort of physical condition necessary to manage this. Cars pass giving hoots of encouragement from their horns, probably as they come home from bars on their way to bed. Col des Montées is 4km from Vallorcines and I figure that this will take an hour and I manage to reach there in 55 minutes. My timing is spot on now and it won't be long before I'm back in Chamonix and then tucked up in bed as I need to recover too. I start jogging again down the hill and catch up with another group as we jog down roads and paths towards Argentières. It only takes between 10 - 15 minutes to get to Argentières and I'm delighted: the end is in sight. I reckon that there's only about 10km to go of downhill so even in the state I'm in the 2:00am time is more or less feasible. I don't even bother stopping in the feeding station but run in one side and then straight out of the other to attack the final section; the home straight.

The road takes us out of the west side of the village when I was exepecting to head down the road to the north. I'm not too bothered as I figure that this path must run parallel to the road through the trees. It doesn't. Worse still, it goes uphill. What the hell ? I walk immediately, disgusted and disappointed that it's not going to be as easy as I thought. The uphill continues for some time and I begin to get very pissed off. My ETA is out of the window and then I hear a sound from my pocket. It's my phone and Laurence is calling me. She wants to know how long before I'll arrive so I tell her another hour yet. I don't even know exactly how far it is but as I expect to run approximately 90km after the course modifications and I'm currently at 82km, this appears a prudent estimation at 8km/h. I put the phone back in my pocket and run down a little downill section. All of a sudden I'm on the ground in a heap and my hip and thigh are sore. I've fallen in the dark and am coated with mud: just what I needed. I curse myself for being so careless so close to the end and check that nothing is broken. Nothing is so I carry on a little while and then decide to change the batteries in my headlamp so that I can get more visibility. This takes me a good 20 minutes as I unpack my sack, fumble in the dark with the batteries all the while using my second headlamp to light up what I'm doing. The reserve headlamp is not much brighter than the first; so the batteries have to be replaced. About 30 runners go past while I'm carrying out this operation but I'm past caring and just want to stop. I complete the manoeuvre and continue on.

Running is over for me now. Even on the downhill, my legs are too sore and painful to run. The jarring with each stride shoots up daggers of pain in each thigh and I can't take it. Tough, I'm just going to have to walk to the end. I think about Laurence and my predicted finish time which is now out of the window. The route continues to wind westward through forests and areas that I don't recognise with equal measures of uphill and downhill, since I walk both I'm not too bothered. This is not true. I'm still pissed off with the organisers for making the end so difficult when it didn't need to be - stupid I know but I was beyond rational thought at this point in the race. I looked at the Garmin - 2:40am and I had just passed our hotel: Hotel L'Arveyron. I could have stopped there and gone to bed but I had to complete this race first. I knew where I was now and I thought that I'd be lucky to get under 17 hours at this pace.

I finally reach the outskirts of Chamonix after what seems like an eternity. Another younger runner catches me at this point and tells me to run in with him to the finish. I start running, ignoring the searing pain that this provokes in order to reach the line in some style. We run together the last kilometre and he pulls away from me towards the end finishing some 30 seconds ahead. I check later and find that he left Argentière 40 minutes after me to catch me by the finish. This is the time I lost with my fall, my headlamp, and my inability to run. The relief as I go over the finishing line is tremendous. Laurence is there waiting for me and she directs me to the tent acting as the last feeding station and I drink a final cup of tea. It's over.

16 hours and 58 minutes to run 92.5 km on the Garmin and over 5 000 metres of uphill. They are all just numbers and it's easy to dismiss this when reading accounts like this before actually taking part - I know I did ! The terrain and the ascents are what I under-estimated and their impact on my level of exhaustion and leg muscles. I really don't know if I could have managed the 2 summits that were cut from the course - I'll never know but the weather conditions were extreme as other athletes confirmed with previous race experience. It took me 3 days following the race to recover fully in my legs and another 3 weeks before I was ready to take on some serious training again. I left a lot of motivation behind me on the CCC, but I gained in experience and I'll be back to do the UTMB in the future.
 

CCC - Part 1 to Trient

The music blasts out of the loudspeakers and I can't help but move in time to the beat. All of my favourites are being played: Led Zeppelin, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Dire Straits, ZZ Top, Van Halen, ... the list goes on. It's not a rock concert. No, it's the start line in Courmayeur and the Italians are showing us how to create an atmosphere.

Laurence and I set off in one of the first buses this morning from Chamonix to come through the Mont Blanc tunnel. It was cold and miserable in Chamonix but through the side of the mountain and it is warm and sunny here in Italy. The organisation of this event is fantatsic; everything has gone like clockwork so far, from the buses this morning, to the collection of the bibs yesterday. Around 5 000 trailers are in the valley for the weekend with the 4 races: TDS, UTMB, PTL and the race that interests me this year, the CCC.

The CCC, is so named since it starts in Italy in Courmayeur, heads north over the border into Switzerland with the main stop in Champex, and then finishes after 100km by curving back to the west in Chamonix in France.This is the first step in the challenge to run the UTMB or the whole loop around the Mont Blanc massif but for which you need qualifying races in order to get past the first phase of the selection process and to be with a chance of being chosen at random from the thousands of potential runners that apply every year. I am now just concentrating on the race in hand and frankly, I'm worried about the interuption in my training programme with the achilles injury I picked up after Marvejols-Mende. I don't know if the ankle will hold out, or the calf for that matter which has begun to trouble me too in the recent training that I've managed.

The rain has started to fall. So much for the sunny side of the massif. 1 900 runners are now waiting for the start under a steady drizzle and I look at Laurence with compassion as she waits patiently on the side for the race to start. I can see that the motivational speaches, the 3 national anthems and the music have affected her as she wipes the tears from her eyes and wishes me good luck.

 

The gun fires and we set off through the streets of Courmayeur. I tell myself to take it easy as there are a 100km to the end of this race and I need to be able to get to the end. Nevertheless, the speed feels too high for the start and I can tell that I'm not in peak condition even during the first 2 kilometres as we leave town now and start heading up a track towards the mountains. Weather conditions have forced the organisers to change the course and the first col has been cut from the route and we're heading directly up to Bertone refuge, rather then climbing to 2500m and then dropping back to the refuge afterwards. I have to admit that I'm disappointed by this news and also by the decision to cut the last col of Tete aux Vents. I entered this race to complete the full course and I struggle to understand why the course is modified at the last moment. Since I can' t do anything about this decision, I concentrate on the race in hand.

We turn left off the track and head up a smaller path towards the refuge. Everybody is walking around me now and I push on my legs to walk up as fast as possible. Over the summer, we spent time walking in the Alps and our fastest ascension speed was 700m of uphill an hour which we were able to maintain for 20 minutes. I reach Bertone refuge after 800m of ascension in just 55 minutes, so I've managed an average ascension rate of 875m/hour. It's a relief to get to the refuge as the path is fairly flat now for the next few kilometres. I run again and although I don't move fast at 12km/h, it's still a vast improvement on the uphill.

The drizzle continues to fall and I alternate between keeping my hood on and getting to hot, and then pulling it down and getting too wet. It's a no-win situation. I prefer the wet to the heat though and run with my hood down. I'm running at a steady pace and there is relatively little movement with runners passing or me passing other runners. The track is narrow anyway and passing runners is not easy and relies on them letting you get by or me moving aside for them. It takes another 50 minutes to run the 7.3km to Bonatti refuge and I stop to grab some soup and coke before heading on. This is my first real stop and I take 5 minutes out to enjoy some warmth from the soup before heading on again. The track is undulating for another 2 or 3 km before it drops downhill. The rain continues to fall and the track beneath my feet has turned into a mudbath. I'm running downhill now towards Arnuva, but running is relative and it's more a case of sliding gracefully as I pass a few runners who appear a lot less steady on their feet. My Saucony trail shoes have picked up a kilo of mud on each shoe and it's not easy to stay upright. I'm encouraged by the noise from the crowds ahead and I realise that it's not far to the next feeding station.

I enter the marquee that serves as the feeding station and I grab some meat, some dried fruit, some coke and I refill my water pouch with sparkling water. This should help with getting some minerals back into the body to replace what is lost with the sweat. I've run just over 18 km now in 2 and a half hours but I put all thoughts about time out of my head and look forward to the feeding stations ahead and seeing Laurence again at Champex. The highest point of the race is just ahead of me now : Grand Col Ferret. This is the col that separates Italy from Switzwerland and I leave the feeding station at Arnuva and begin the 800m climb to the top of the col.

The path is extremely muddy and I'm beginning to feel tired. Every step forward I take, I have the impression that I drop 2 steps backwards. I let a few runners, or rather walkers, go past me as I focus purely on getting to the top. The rain turns to snow and my fingers and feet go numb with the cold. The wind picks up too and I begin to understand the organisers decision to cut short the race with an effective temperature of -10°C taking into account the wind-chill factor. I pity the 2 race marshals at the top of the col, scanning everybody's bib as they come past. Here's a video of the scene :

I'm moving quickly to come down the mountain now and I'm so looking forward to getting to the next feeding station. My gloves are too thin and I can't feel my fingers any more. I'm tired and focusing on the descent, avoiding the stones and watching where I place my feet. I'm using my poles almost constantly as they help stabilise my posture downhill. The next feeding station is only 10 kilometres away and it should be almost all downhill. I descend and the air warms around me, it stops snowing and the drizzle begins again. Feeling comes back to my fingers, which itch as the blood returns. So much for reducing the weight by taking lightweight gloves. That was a bad move.

The feeding station is at La Fouly but it's taking a time to get there. I come off the mountain and along the valley and to my dismay find that I have to run uphill again. I had presumed, innocently, that it would be downhill or flat all the way. This wouldn't be the last of my errors in this respect. I finally arrive at La Fouly and I have to rest. I've spent just over 5 hours running / walking to complete 31 kilometres and my energy levels are seriously low. I sit down and eat some cereal bars, some soup and refill my water pouch with sparkling water. I chat to an Irishman and we both seem to be in the same condition: tired, depleted and wondering how it will be ahead. I sit and try and recharge the batteries for 17 minutes before putting the rucksack back on and restarting the race. Over 80 people have gone past me in this time and I'm now in 337 position. The path ahead is a long downhill for 10 kilometres and then 4 kilometres of uphill before arriving at Champex and meeting Laurence. I focus on the 10km and leave the 4km aside for the moment.

The path down from La Fouly to the bottom of the valley is fantastic. I'm ruuning alongside the edge of the forest following the valley down and the trail is winding between the forest and the river. I'm running all the time now and as I leave the path and onto the roads through some Swiss hamlets, it appears as though every single inhabitant has come out of their house to cheer on the runners. Some have even set up trestle tables and benches and are offering tea to the runners as they go by. The hospitality and the laid-back attitude is contagious and I think about telling Laurence about my plans to move here soon. The downhill ends and I attack the first portion of the uphill to Champex. I think about Laurence and the change of clothes she has waiting for me and this spurs me on. The tiredness is bearable and I know that it'll only take me about an hour to complete the 400m of ascent and the 4km to Champex.

Laurence is waiting for me at the entrance to Champex and this lifts my spirits immensely. We enter the feeding station and she goes and fetches me pasta, soup, and fruit. I get changed, stripping naked in front of 150 runners and their families but I'm beyond caring and the dry clothes are a welcome change from my sweaty, wet top and shorts. The only items I keep are the boosters and my goretex jacket. I eat and catch some rest for 30 minutes before it's time to head on. Laurence fetches me a last cup of tea and my hands are shking so much with the cold and tiredness that the tea is shaken out of the cup. I drink it and we discuss the next meeting point. I suggest Trient but Laurence has spoken to some others on her travels who say that there is nothing at Trient and she says she'll meet me directly at Vallorcines. This is approximately 28km ahead and I tell her that it'll take me another 4 and a half hours to get there. A quick photo and I'm off again.

I'm prepared for the next sections as I've been warned that the race starts at Champex so I expect the worst. There are 2 big cols to get over both with around 800m of ascent. The first that I have to manage is Bovine and then after the descent into Trient the last big col is Catogne before Vallorcines and then the descent down to Chamonix. The trail from Champex is straight-forward and I'm able to jog for long stretches. There is even some downhill that I was not expecting and I make the most of this begore the path starts uphill and the long trudge begins. I slow down on the uphill and I'm caught by a group of 10 runners who overtake me and I tuck in behind them. This uphill section is the steepest in the race so far as we climb through the woods and over roots and large blocks. It's drizzling again and as we climb we hit the snowline. In some respects, I'm happy at this as it means that we're at 1800m and I don't need to check. I know the col is just over 2000m so there isn't far left to ascend before the checkpoint and the feeding station at Bovine. The track turns right at this point and flattens out, contourning around the mountain. A walker on the path tells us that we have another couple of kilometres to the checkpoint. I'm shattered.

The checkpoint finally comes into view. No, let's correct this. A refuge comes into view that I presume is the checkpoint. There is fencing preventing us from heading straight there and forcing us to climb a few more metres through a herd of cows. I soon realise that the checkpoint is not in fact the nice refuge that looks so inviting but a barn which has been hooked up to a generator with a wire running through the central space and half a dozen lightbulbs hanging from it. I'm cold, wet and miserable and this barn doesn't help. I've been looking forward to the feeding station and it's providing no solace whatsoever. I grab a cup of tea, refill the water pouch and continue. No point hanging around to warm-up in a barn.

Barn is long building in the top of group of 3

Dusk is falling and I push on, running again now as the path heads initially uphill for a few hundred metres before crossing a stile and then down the hill through the trees. I'm hoping to get to Trient before nightfall and before putting my headlamp on. It's almost 8:00pm and I've been running for almost 10 hours now and completed 55km. It sounds a pathetic average for someone with a marathon time of under 3 hours, but I've never been this tired before and it's only the commitment to meet Laurence in Vallorcines in 4 and a half hours that's driving me on. Trient is 6 kilometres down the road - it's time to get moving.

I'm following a couple down the moutain that I remember having passed me on the way up. She's dressed in blue and was the fastest uphill. He's evidently her partner and is faster down the hills where she is more unsteady. I catch them up and overtake them as they stop to put their headlamps on and rearrange their sacks. I'm still trying to avoid putting my own headlamp on as I want to try and save the batteries as much as possible but it's just too dark and getting too dangerous with the wet and the roots on the path. I finally give in and the couple pass me again just before we hit a section of road and the path flattens out. A sign indicating Trient appears on the road and there are a few people cheering the runners on. Great - I've finally arrived at the checkpoint - where is it. I round the bend in the road expecting to see the feeding station just ahead but no; the path leaves the road again and I see a village 300m lower in the valley. I begin to understand why the couple that Laurence met didn't want to come to Trient - they confused the upper section of the village with the real stop 300m below. I push on eager to get there now. It's pitch black now and night has finally fallen. The path down through the trees to the village is extremely steep and I can't run for fear of falling. depsite this, I'm caught by a couple of runners who are able to bound down in the dark. How do they manage this ? I thought I was good downhill but I'm only mediocre in this environment. After what seems like an eternity, I emerge from the forest and into the village centre and there are more people cheering on the runners into a building. This is more like it. I've arrived at Trient for food and another cup of tea.

Photos

Just a couple of photos taken at the races recently in Orgerus.

First one, a photo of the team from St Germain with Mustapha (1st), Anis (4th), Ilyes, Eric, Nico and me last of the 6th but in 18th position. The standard is definitely increasing within the club !

 

A nice photo of Sandra, Katia and Laurence after the race, cramming in the calories to recover!

Orgerus - 15 km

My prayers had been answered. God exists.

It rained last night. It rained and rained and rained and then it rained some more. When we went to bed last night it was 21°C and we left the window open all evening. When we got up it was 16°C and a lot fresher in the atmosphere. The one downside was that with the window open, the sound of the rain had kept me awake most of the night and I'd slept quite fitfully. The whiskies, wine and cider after our evening out hadn't helped either and I was definitely a little rough around the edges when I woke up this morning. Still given a choice of running in 24°C, which has been the average temperature recently and 16°C, I would chose the latter anyday.

We drove to Orgerus with Nico and Ilyes and met up with François, Katia, Pascal and Sandra before heading off all together for a warm-up around the start of the course. It was fairly ideal conditions with a cool temperature but a stiff breeze that might prove to be difficult to manage on some of the more exposed parts of the course. As we warmed up, we noticed some of the other good runners taking part. Already from our club we had Mustapha, Anis, Ilyes, Nico and Eric - it didn't look as though I would be even part of the first 5 members of the club home.

I lined up at the start with Nico and Fleg who suggested that we run together. I didn't know what sort of shape he was in in but I thought that we would be closely matched. The gun went and it was soon obvious that I wouldn't be able to stay close to Nico today. He was running well ahead and was just behind Eric on the initial downhill section of the course. I ran with Fleg and we shouted out 3:30 as we went through the first kilometre. After 1.5km we head right and start up a muddy track and I picked up a few places here and felt very good in my legs. I saw that I had closed on Nico and Eric and I began to feel that perhaps if I maintained this pace that I would be in for a shouting chance at the finish.

Unfortunately, all too soon I was running by myself. I stuck with a runner for a while but he moved ahead and I saw him catch Eric who'd now been left behind by Nico.

The kilometres went by as follows:

3:31, 3:45, 3:53, 3:46, 3:47, 3:48, 3:59, 3:57, 3:53, 3:53, 3:50, 3:52, 3:53, 3:50, 3:38

I tired at the half-way point as the continuous hills took their toll and I began to look over my shoulder just before 10km to see where Fleg was behind me. There was a good gap at 10km but this had narrowed rapidly by 12km and I was convinced that the group of 4 runners that he was with would catch me and overtake me. I prepared myself for the worst but it never happened and I was able to maintain a pace to hold them off.

I could see Nico and Eric in front all of the way around but they never came back to me and Nico, particularly, ran a great race finishing 2 minutes ahead of me in 55:41 while I crossed the line in 57:39, my best time ever for the course. Fleg finished only 12 seconds behind so I was grateful that I had the energy and guts to push until the end.

François had a good race beating Jean-François home with Pascal finishing not too long afterwards. I ran back to see how the women were doing and Katia beat Sandra in a final sprint to finish in 1:11:24 and 1:11:25 with Laurence finishing 30 seconds behind in 1:11:53.

Pleased with the run overall as I felt good at the start if a little drained by the finish in the legs from Les Clayes on Friday and lack of sleep. I checked some previous year's results and saw that I beat Eric's times from 2 and 3 years ago so I can still hope to improve in the next couple of years.

Les Clayes sous Bois - 10km

Piecing it all together afterwards, I still can't figure out why I was down to run this race. I can't remember who started the discussion about doing 2 races in the same weekend and how we managed to be 5 friends (Laurence, Katia, Nico, François and myself) with our names down on both lists for participation in Les Clayes on Friday night and then Orgerus on Sunday morning. Whatever the reason I spent most of Friday ruing the decision and wondering what on earth was going to happen.

When I drove into town at 7:30pm for the 8:30pm start I already had a load of excuses ready: it was too hot (23°C), I was tired after a tough week at work, I was lacking sleep. Meeting the others and then warming up around town only confimed what I already feared that the heat was going to be the main issue. We ran just under 3km as a warm-up and I was dripping with sweat already. The good news was that the course had been modified from previous years and instead of doing 3 loops with a bugger of a hill to manage, there were 2 longer loops this year.

I lined up at the start with the rest of the gang and when the gun went I made a mental resolution not to set off like a looney. I was surprised to see François ahead of me for the first 200m when he finally saw reason and Nico and I ran past in a small group of 4. We ran the first kilometre downhill together and then turned and ran up a long slope for the next 500m before turning into a little park for some greenery and views of the old part of town. This was the little respite before pulling up 2 more steeper hills albeit shorter, and then the road flattens out and heads downhill with some long flat straights to complete the circuit.

Nico had taken the lead on our little group heading up to the second kilometre marker and I concentrated on getting past the other 2 runners and not losing touch with Nico. The steeper hills killed me though and with the heat, Nico made some good ground on me here and I would never be able to get back in touch after this. I was now focussed on losing my adversary from Gally who was getting a lot of local support. He came past me at the 4km marker and I hung onto him going through the end of the first lap and then on the downhill section of the second loop.

As we ran back up the slope to the park, I put in a little effort and came past him again. I just concentrated now on maintaining the best pace I could manage as the heat had drained all motivation from my body. I could see Nico about 100 - 150 metres ahead now and knew that I had no chance of catching him. I slowed even further on the steeper hills, putting in a kilometre in 4:04 and I was just praying that the runner behind wasn't feeling any fresher than I was. I could hear him just behind and didn't dare turn to see where he was as I didn't want to encourage him. Instead, I tried to accelerate away on the flat and put some distance in to discourage him if he thought of attacking again.

I was by myself now and watched Nico turn at the 8 km marker and spot me 150 metres behind. I saw him ease off the pace and smiled to myself as he had nothing to race for now. I wasn't going ot catch him and there was no chance of a time in this heat and on this course. I couldn't ease off as I had my Gally runner behind still and he hadn't given up the chase just yet. I pushed on until the final bend and then had the last 150 metres of uphill to the finish line which I sprinted as hard as I could. If he was going to beat me now, he'd have to put the effort in with the crowds cheering him on. He finished 2 seconds behind me. Relief.

I finished in 37:16 in 7th place and 2nd vet with Nico one place ahead in 36:48. François finished in a slightly disappointing 41:18 as he's capable of beating 40 minutes regularly now - too much cycling and not enough running recently. Katia finished just ahead of Laurence in 46:52 and 47:06 respectively with them picking up 1st and 2nd place in the female vet category. Another podium and this one is becoming a regular in their racing calendar.

Good to have a meal all together afterwards after an interminable wait with one of the most verbose presenters ever encountered for the prize winners.

Ecotrail - 80 km

I entered the Ecotrail several months ago. I don’t really know what force motivated me to participate but I’d decided that it was a good challenge to take up and it would also give me points to enable me to enter the UTMB next year. It was one of those ideas that seemed good at the time. Last night, I began having serious doubts about my bright ideas, especially having seen the weather forecast which was predicting a lovely sunny day with an uncharacteristically high 21°C for springtime.

Laurence drove me to the start in St Quentin en Yvelines to the leisure park. The last time I’d been here was to take part in the cross-country championships a couple of years ago. Then, it had been a freezing cold January morning. Today, it was a very warm, sunny spring day – too warm to be running 80 kilometres in my opinion. The distance was going to be the clincher. I’d never run this far before as the longest race in which I’d participated was a measly 58km, still a half-marathon short of the distance to be covered now. However, I wasn’t to be alone, as the crowds in the fields surrounding the lake proved. There were over 2000 people lining up for the start of this race.

Laurence kissed me goodbye and wished me well. She was going back to the house to relax before meeting up with François, Katia and Sandra to travel to Paris and come to St Cloud to meet me at 7:00pm in St Cloud so that we could run the last 10km together. I’d assured them that I would not be outrunning them at this point and that they would have no problems in keeping up with me. I was already mildly stressed about this: would I make it to the meeting point in time, would I be able to manage the distance, how would I cope with the heat. I talked to some friends of ours at the start. Philippe and Anne had run the race last year and were now back again, gluttons for punishment. Other runners from the club were there too and we chatted and took some commemorative photos before the start, discussing our race objectives. Mine was to finish in under 8 hours. An average speed of 10km/h seemed appropriate considering the uphill over the course and the total distance.

I lined up at the start and waited in the middle of the pack. I had begun by winding my way through the field to begin with but I was bothered about seeming to ambitious in such a relaxed atmosphere. With all their rucksacks and water pouches on their backs, most of the field looked like they were about to set off for a picnic. Peculiar bunch of people these trailers. The gun went and we were off. It took me about 40 seconds to get over the start line but I figured that this was not important considering what lay ahead. It wasn’t a few seconds that would determine my performance and finishing place today. We set off through a large field to begin with before joining a wide track that followed the lakeside. I set off at a comfortable pace at about 4:50/km, passing people steadily and gradually working my way up the field. As we rounded the far end of the lake, I could see the front of the field about 500m ahead. I wondered how fast they were running to have made so much distance after only 3 or 4 km and how on earth they could hope to keep this up over the total distance.

The path was relatively flat and easy to run along. There were a couple of slight slopes that lasted a few metres but these were no problem to run up and it was easy going and a steady 4:45/km pace when we finally left the leisure park after 8 kilometres and headed into town. I felt we’d stepped into a different world at this point: people going about their Saturday shopping with bags and pushchairs watched this troop of back-packing lunatics running over footbridges, beside tower blocks and through their parks. We had a few words of encouragement and a few people clapped, but most looked at us as though we were aliens, just stepped off their spaceship from a different planet.

Laurence called me on the mobile phone after an hour to find out how I was doing. The phone was part of the obligatory equipment necessary for the race, along with a headlamp, a survival blanket, food and a reflective armband. I answered the phone at the second attempt, fishing it out of the rucksack pocket as I ran through the forest. At this point, I was speaking to Laurence with the phone in one hand and overtaking other runners. I felt really good, passing the others with a nonchalant look all the while telling Laurence how I was doing. How long would this last?

The first feeding station was at Buc after 22km. I’d been running for just over 1:45 now and I still felt good. The heat was bearable and I’d been sipping a water/orange mix from the camelbak regularly to keep myself hydrated. I made the most of this stop and helped myself to the food on offer: some slices of sausage, a handful of raisins, a few cheese crackers and a complete refill of the camelbak. I was out of the feeding station after 3 minutes and 30 seconds, no time wasted and back onto the track. The path was hillier now having been relatively flat for the first 20 kilometres with only a couple of hills just before Buc. Still, I was confident that I would be fine until the next feeding station at 35km as they would be more regularly spaced at around every 10 km or so.

Laurence called me again and told me that I was in 89 position overall and 29^th veteran at this point (in fact I was 118^th but I must have misunderstood/misheard). I was pleased and this gave me a boost to know that I was so far up the field having run at a fairly easy but steady pace to now. Nevertheless as we passed the 35 km mark, a runner passed me (first during the race) and I pushed on slightly to stay with him. I asked him how he was doing. Apparently fine, as he told me that he’d run at his 24 pace for the first couple of hours and was now moving up the field. He asked me what place we were and I told him that we must be around 80. He announced that he was chasing a position in the top 30. I was slightly mystified as to what his 24 pace meant and asked him to explain. He was saving energy and had adopted his 24 hour race pace. “Marathon too short for you?”, I enquired. He was an extreme distance runner and as the path rose through the forest, he carried on at his pace leaving me behind. I walked.

The feeding station never materialized at 35km. I pulled out the roadbook the organizers had given us and looked closely. There wasn’t a feeding station, just a spot to give-up for those tempted. The next feeding station was at Meudon at 45km and it was water only. I was tempted but carried on regardless. I was a little down-hearted by this news as I’d been looking forward to a rest and some food. It was hot now and I was drinking steadily from the water pouch. I could tell that the rucksack was considerably lighter than at Buc. A couple of sugar tablets helped improve my mental state and I focused on my time and distance and how long I had until St Cloud where I was meeting my support team.

Meudon took a while to reach and the organizers hadn’t taken the simplest path. 45 km under the belt and 35 km to go. I was over half-way. I filled my camelbak here completely. I’d finished 2 litres of water in the last 2 hours and 23 km. I was slightly dehydrated and very hungry. I wolfed down some Gü Chomps, which tasted delicious and instantly lifted my spirits. I must have been severely low on my blood-sugar levels and hadn’t realized. The Garmin was showing that I’d already burnt off around 3500 calories. This was some crash diet. I tried to rationalize my thoughts now. I was tired and slowing, having run only just over 10km in the last hour. I had 25 km to St Cloud and the meeting point and 3 hours to get there. I could slow down further and still manage this easily so no panic on this front. I set off again.

There was a large panel at 47km showing 47km. Apart from the feeding stations there had been no signs up until now. What on earth? It was a control point. I was asked to empty my bag and show the obligatory equipment: headlamp, identity card and reflective armband. Damn, I’d forgotten my armband and now they were telling me that this would cost me 10 minutes of forced wait. I said that I hadn’t realized (which was true as the roadbook I used as a reference that morning to fill the bag didn’t mention this) and they saw the union jack on my bib and “James”. “Are you English?”. I hesitated wondering if this was a trap: 2 French xenophobes eager to dump me in the sin-bin. I replied in the affirmative and they said that I could carry-on. The relief was enormous and I waited until I went around the corner before trying to call Laurence to tell her about it. I pulled the phone from the rucksack pocket and wondered what all the pink fluff stuck to it was doing there. I looked closer and the phone wouldn’t move screens despite me punching all the keys. After a quick look in the pocket, the pink stuff was discovered to be the roadbook that had disintegrated when I’d sprinkled myself with water back at Meudon. The pocket had become wet and the phone had stopped working. Shit, shit, shit! What was I going to do now? I held the phone in my hand and ran for a while with the pocket open, hoping it would dry rapidly in the heat. I tired of holding the phone while running and slipped it back in the pocket. It was too late now. I just had to get to St Cloud for 7:00pm and hope that nothing happened to me in the meanwhile.

I was struggling to run under 5:30/km now. The effect of the heat, the distance and the uphills had all taken their toll and my legs were aching, mostly in the thighs. The phone rang. It was Laurence and the heat had dried out both the rucksack pocket and the phone and I was able to answer. She was in the car with François heading to Paris on the motorway. In fact, I wasn’t that far from them and this encouraged me to keep pushing and to get to our meeting point. The terrain was slightly easier now too and there must have been a good uphill rise to Meudon as the going was flatter here and not quite as tiring. I met up with another lone runner, Pierre-Yves who started chatting to me. It was his first long trail too and, as a 2:53 marathon runner, he was more used to the road. We had a lot in common and chatted together before a slight uphill got the better of me and while I gave in and walked, he jogged on.

Chaville, the feeding station at 55 km arrived sooner than expected and I was able to fill up again on food and water with my camelbak not as empty as last time due to the shorter interval. I rinsed my head and face again and soaked my neckscarf that was protecting me from the sun and keeping me cool(ish). I spent a good 5 minutes recovering here before finding the energy to push on. I no longer had the energy to run fast downhills; I was walking every uphill; and I was counting down the kilometres to St Cloud. I ran down to Ville d’Avray and the ponds there, just concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. I sincerely regretted the marathon where I would have finished over 10 km ago. My body, and most especially my legs, was a wreck and I had to watch my stride as an unfortunate footstep would start minor cramps in my ankles, calves or thighs depending on whether I was running uphill, downhill or in a rut when I was careless with my foot placement. Pierre-Yves was 100 metres in front now but I was catching him while he walked. I took satisfaction in the thought that we all suffer in the same manner. A lonely figure stood next to his bike in the woods watching the race and as I passed he called out to me: ‘Keep it up James’. I looked at him more closely and it was Jean-Marc from the club. Had he not called out, I would have run right past him without noticing. He accompanied me for a while on the bike but had to leave in order to get back home before dark. He left and I walked instantly, relieved he wasn’t there to see me.

Laurence called but when I pulled the phone from the pocket, I couldn’t answer it. The phone was damp again and I'd done exactly the same thing in Chaville as Meudon. I cursed myself for being such an idiot. She rang again and again and all I could do was to watch helpless. I had to meet up to explain but that was still a while off.

Running was painful now. Each stride hurt my thighs: a constant, deep ache that was tearing at my muscles. It was a permanent battle to keep from walking as this was the only way to stop the hurt. I focused on my Garmin and the distance left to cover. I was getting closer to our meeting point and I could see that I’d be ahead of schedule. I remembered stretches from last year and knew that it wasn’t far. I entered the park in St Cloud and ran down the edge before cutting back over the main section and saw the fannions and arch of the Ecotrail that marked the feeding station. Would they have arrived yet ? I entered the feeding station and saw 4 red Florence marathon tee-shirts matching mine. The support team were there waiting for me. I was so relieved and happy to see them. I was almost home now.

I had some food and drink and unloaded some excess and unnecessary items (like the phone) on them. I was thrilled to be able to run with people I knew who’d help me to the end now. We set off again and I relaxed down the hill, running the next couple of kilometres in 4:45. The girls looked worried as they were at 10km pace, but I knew that this was too good to last. At the bottom of the park, the road rose ever so slightly, the sort of slope that you don’t normally bother about, but I told Laurence that I’d need to slow down. She looked at me with surprise and adjusted her pace. François was taking revenge for Etampes and kept a few metres ahead, taunting me unconsciously with his energy and pace. I struggled on and we ran 5:15/km for the next couple of kilometres.

I stopped to walk. The others continued running. I wondered how long it would take them to realise I was no longer with them. 10 seconds later, they stopped too, surprised, astonished even, to see that I’d reached such a nadir in terms of energy that I'd need to walk. It wasn’t just the energy though, there was the constant pain that had not disappeared. I might be with friends, but this enemy wouldn’t leave me alone. We ran alongside the Seine past Issy and then under the ring-road into Paris. The Eiffel tower was visible now. The end was in sight. I reckoned that we had 4 kilometres to go.

We were caught by a couple of runners but I was beyond caring. Pierre Yves caught us and admired the fan club. He accused me of cheating and so Sandra felt sorry for him and ran alongside him to give him some encouragement too. Mind you, Pierre Yves was not the only one who admired our little group. A few cars beeped their horns as a sign of encouragement and passer-bys admired the women and cheered them on too. I had made the effort but passed by almost unnoticed in such glamorous company. We dropped down to the banks of the Seine and we were almost there now. A last flight of steps and then marshals blocked the traffic so we could cross the street to the foot of the Eiffel tower. I picked up the pace for the last time and high-fived Miguel who was on the podium with the mike. The atmosphere was fantastic and I was over the moon. We ran to the foot of the tower and were each passed a ticket to go up the stairs to the first floor and the finish. 369 steps later and we passed under the finishing arch on the first floor. 7 hours 33 minutes and 59 seconds of effort to cover 78 kilometres and 1700 metres of uphill and finish 47^th overall and 14^th in my category. Beer and coke were on offer however I just looked around for a chair to collapse into but they were all taken by other exhausted runners. It was finally over. An epic account of an epic race.

The stats: 

      -          2 049 starters

-          1 694 finishers

-          47^th overall in 7:33:59

-          14^th V1 (40 – 50) veteran

-          78 km from St Quentin to the Eiffel tower

-          1 700 metres of uphill over the course

-          4 feeding stations of which 3 had food

-          Fastest time of 5:45 for Erik Clavery (world trailer champion)

-          One sleepless night as leg pain woke me every time I moved

-          3 days for the aches to wear off from my legs

LIFA cross country - Les Mureaux

I didn't want to run this and I wasn't disappointed. I'll keep the story short as I was unhappy with my run, unhappy about the pace and unhappy by beaing beaten by Mr Moustache from Houilles.

I turned up for the veterans race and was surprised to see that there were only 3 of us from the club: Eric, Robin and myself. José, Bruno, Thierry and Olivier had all pulled out, leaving us without a team (4 runners necessary). I warmed up feeling fairly lousy as I had a heavy stomach from breakfast which had not worn off. I wondered if this would disappear as soon as the race started.

I lined up and it was a fast start from the gun. My stomach was ever present and I was heavy in my legs, just not in the race at all. We had 2 medium laps to run and then 2 big laps. I was ahead of Mr Moustache from the start and Nico warned from the sidelines that he was just behind me at the start of the second lap. He overtook me shortly afterwards and I never had the capacity to pull back the ground he made at this point. The distance didn't grow as the laps went on but I couldn't pull up the energy to accelerate and chase him down.

The pace was very similar to Montesson despite the course being a lot flatter and faster in theory. I averaged 3:53 over the course and just felt that I under-achieved. I was never in the race mentally and really just hanging on from the start. Very disappointing and a pathetic performance that I'll try and put behind me.

Nico ran a good race in the seniors. He set off slowly letting the leaders pull away before accelerating in the second half of the race and slowly clawing his way back through the field beating Guillaume R, a good road-runner in the process. Wish I could have done the same.

West Paris basin cross-country championships

I've stated this several times, but I'll repeat myself again: I don't like cross-country. I wasn't looking forward to this race, despite the fact that I was better rested than last time and had enjoyed more focused training and race practise compared to the last race. Nico was enthusiastic and considered that he was in good shape for the race. He was racing after me and I was looking forward to comparing our times. He had informed me that Thierry fancied his chances and was looking to try and stay with me from the gun. I might not like cross-country, but neither does Thierry and despite a recent improvement, I couldn't see him bothering me today.

We watched the girl's race to start, where they all ran a decent race. Luckily it hasn't rained recently and the Montesson course was relatively dry with only a couple of patches where the mud would pose a problem. I put my spikes on and after a quick warm-up with Eric, I lned up with the 250 others who'd made it through the first round and waited for the gun to go.

I knew from the start that eating a large breakfast at 11:00 am was a mistake. It was weighing on my stomach and for a while the thought of sticking a couple of fingers down my throat was an option. I got over this and tried to focus on the race. My main objectives were to finish ahead of Thierry and José, like last time, and to beat Mr Mustache from Houilles. After a fast start and a few falls at the first corner, not to mention the spikes grazing my legs, I managed to catch up the gold and black vest from Houilles and overtake in the first downhill section.

The rest of the race was spent trying to find a rhythm and maintain my position in the field. I knew that I was somewhere between 80 and 90th and I could see Olivier and Bruno ahead without ever managing to get them close enought ot be able to worry them. Mr Mustache remained behind and with a few discrete glances around the numerous corners on the windy, bendy loop, I was able to see that he was a good 10 places behind and not threatening to come back to me.

I suffered in the final lap and lost a handful of places. I'd given just about everthing I had and was not motivated to push any harder. In a 10km road race, there's always the watch to tell you how well you've run, in cross-country, you just can't tell.

I finished the race in 90th place in 36:56 for the 9.5km so an average pace of 3:53. I was fairly pleased with the result considering the hills, the conditions and the mud.

I watched the seniors run afterwards and Nico pulled off an excellent run where he challenged Jean-Marc for the first loop before falling back on the second and third. He finished in 35:11 so 90 seconds faster than me over the same distance. I'll be hard pushed to beat him over 10km this year.

Some photos of me over the course:

Just checked the results of the guy who finished just ahead of me and the guy who finished just behind me. Results over 10km last year were 35:49 and 35:42 respectively (Vélizy and Enghien). I can officially declare that it was a good run.

Verneuil x-country - departmental challenge

Plenty of work on at the moment and this is my first opportunity to update my blog in a while. This Sunday in question, I was taking part in the first of the cross country races planned for the Paris region, starting with the Yvelines department challenge where I was running in the veteran's race, the first of the day.

It was a cold morning with a layer of frost everywhere. Another one of those days where you wonder why you run and even on my warm-up I was suffering from minor frostbite on my fingers. I'd had two late night's out the previous evenings and I really wasn't looking forward to the event. I am not keen on cross-country even at the best of times and with the weather like this and a distinct lack of sleep, I was putting on a brave face for a difficult moment.

I met the rest of the vets team and we warmed up together: José, Thierry, Olivier, Bruno W, Charles and several others. We were 17 in total from the club taking part in this race and I was hoping to finish in front of José and Thierry for the first time ever due to my improvement and their lack of training and race practise recently. The race was around 3 loops next to the Seine at Verneuil and measured around 9km in total. I hesitated about whether to put spikes on or not as the ground was largely frozen and there were patches of tarmac around the course. After a lot of indecision, I finally slipped them on 2 minutes before the start.

We lined up at the start in a wide line and when the gun went off, I set off at what seemed a reasonable pace. I didn't want to burn myself out from the outset and I kept an eye on Olivier about 15 metres in front. He's a cross country specialist and is back in shape after a few months of taking it easy. I figured that I was in the right spot. It was only about half way around the first lap that I saw Thierry and José running together ahead and I focused on reeling them in. I passed them about 3/4 of the first loop and I knew that José had stuck with me since I heard our supporters cheering his name just after mine on the way round.

The cheers for him faded on the second lap slightly so I knew that I'd made a little break and from then on I was happy enough just to maintain my position. My motivation wasn't very high and I could feel the tiredness in my legs from Thursday's intervals. I chased Mr Moustache man from Houilles for the remainder of the race and just when it looked as though I would catch him on the final lap, 2 runners that I'd been dragging behind me went past and I didn't have the energy to follow. Mr Moustache finished just ahead (a V2 to boot!)

Splits went as follows: 3:40, 3:45, 3:58, 4:01, 3:54, 4:00, 4:06, 3:58, 3:56.

Too slow to recover from the uphills and general fatigue over the second half of the race. Nevertheless, when I checked the finishers around me, they were generally 35 - 37 minute 10km runners so I was at my level.

So finished all up in 34:24 in 38th place from 172.

Video of the first lap here after 800m. You can see me at around the 29" mark.

Conflans - 15km

I set out to do this race easily. It's not even been a week since I ran the marathon in Florence and I told Gérald that I would run with him to ensure his podium in the departmental challenge. He only needed to achieve 90 points to secure 3rd place which amounted to around 1:05 for the 15km, so the task was not arduous. I have to admit that I also had the objective set by Nick in the back of my mind: 58:13 for the 15km but this seemed well out of reach on the relatively tough course around Conflans, especially with 42km of racing in the legs and an improvement on last year's time of some 40 seconds.

The image above gives you the profile of the course with a steep downhill at the 3km mark and then 2 sharp uphills at 5km and then at 12km. The rest of the route follows the Seine up until the confluence with the Oise, where the course doubles back on itself and heads back to the start. I've run this race twice before and love the route through town, despite the hill, and the long straights by the river where you can set a rhythm and race properly. Last year was an epic ordeal though with a fresh layer of snow that fell in the morning prior to the race, making every corner a nightmare and the last lap of the stadium was reduced to one lane.

Photo from last year's race, heading back along the Seine around the 9km mark.












I lined up at the start this year with Gérald and it was a different kettle of fish altogether. The sun was out, the temperature was not too cold and there was only a strong breeze to spoil the conditions. We decided to take it easy and not to sprint off initially. This was indeed the case; for the first 200 metres at least. We then began passing runner after runner and when the Garmin beeped to indicate the first kilometre in 3:36 I shouted out to Gérald to ease up. We slowed slightly and I found a nice rhythm that I was happy with at about 3:45 pace. This was too much for Gérald though as he lacks a little race practice and training at the moment and dropped behind me. I felt bad for a milli-second before deciding that I was enjoying the run and the pace and that Gérald should use me to pull him along.

I was watching another runner Fred at this point who beat me last year by 5 metres (wearing red in the photo above). He was running well and we'd spoken before the race and I could see that he was in great shape and that the chances of staying with him this year were slight. I was encouraged by the fact that nobody was overtaking me and that, on the contrary, going uphill through Conflans, I was actually keeping up and overtaking others while reducing my stride and increasing the rhythm.

When we went around the turning point at 8km it was bliss. The strong breeze was now coming from behind, helping to push the pace and I stretched to make the most of this. I thought about the marathon and the necessity to maintain the pace no matter the different thoughts in my head about easing off as nothing was at stake. A quick look at the Garmin and a rapid calculation and I realised that I could actually beat the 58:13 target now, if I could maintain 4:00 pace average over the last few kilometres. Admittedly, there was the steep hill, la Sente des Laveuses, to manage but if I could speed up again after this, the record was on the cards.

Amazingly, everythhing went according to plan. I used a flagging runner to accelerate before the hill, overtaking him just at the foot and then leaving him rapidly before focusing my attention on another 2 runners just ahead. I never caught them but they pulled me unconsciously as we neared the stadium and the night of free beers was a feasible proposal.

A last sprint around the track and I crossed the finish line in 57:54 almost a minute faster than last year. What's more, I'd beaten the 58:13 target time set by Nick earlier this year. I'd achieved 4 out of the 5 targets, failing only in the half-marathon which I haven't run competively in 2011. Gérald finished 3 minutes behind, a broken man, in 1:00:48. He was so upset with his race that I wondered whether I should call suicide watch or not. The fact that he could have beaten his course record if he hadn't eased off completely over the last kilometre, letting another runner from our club come past, Charles, was beyond me. He felt that he'd hadn't run well enough to deserve to beat his own time, so he slowed. Gérald has a logic from another world so please don't try to understand. The fact is now that the counter shows a 7-0 victory in my favour and he'll have to pull his act together if he wants to get closer next year.

A great way to end my racing year for me. Really pleased with this final result.

Achères - 6.4km

I only decided to enter this race at the last moment: Thursday evening in fact while speaking to Nico and Régis at the end of the club session. Nico was looking for a short race where a podium was possible and I thought that I could return to Achères to try and defend my first veteran title over the distance. Régis let on that Fabrice was also entering this race, as he was also looking for a podium as a veteran. This added a little spice to the equation and I decided then and there to enter.

I turned up about and hour before the race and paid my fee and picked up my bib. Gérald and Nico were there already and Gérald decided that the 6.4km race would be too fast for him and that he'd enter the 15km race which starts at the same time. We were just leaving some stuff in the car before setting off on our warm-up when Fabrice arrived in the car with his family. He evidently wasn't expecting to see me there and I could see from the expression on his face that his plans for a podium were no in doubt. I was far from sure about my own condition, already feeling tired yesterday on a recovery run and far from confident as to whether I had the energy to run fast around such a short course.

Gérald, Nico and I set off on our warm-up along the course which leaves Achères and heads into the forest at the edge of the town. The paths are wide and flat through the forest until just beofer 3 km when there is a very short hill up and then down and back onto the roads through town to complete the loop. The 15km race does 2 loops and a convoluted finish around the playing fields whereas the 6.4k race is just one loop.

We lined up at the start and when the gun went, I was surprised to find myself near the front of the field, in the first 6 or 7 runners. I was sat on Nico's shoulder for the road out of town and then when we turned into the forest I moved past Eric (running the 15k) and the St Germain runners (Eric, Nico, Anis and myself) represented 4 of the first 6 in the race. Nico encouraged me to take the lead at this point so that I could write in my blog that I led the race at the 1km mark, but although I felt good, I wasn't ready to expose myself at this point. We carried on at the same pace for the second kilometre, dropping Eric slightly in the process and it was only in the third kilometre that I fell back slightly from the group of 4 leaders, leaving Nico to battle it out ahead.

Eric overtook me in the 3rd km and then we hit the road section for the 4th kilometre and another runner overtook me towards the 4km marker. I began to tire now and all the energy I had at the start of the race waned fast. To make matters worse, we turned into the wind for the next 2 kilometres with the second of these slightly uphill back through town. The leaders gapped me here but there was nobody close behind me so I wasn't really worried about my losing speed. We turned into the stadium and I saw that Nico had turned first as the other 4 runners ahead (Anis and Eric included) were running the 15k race. Unfortunately, the guy who'd overtaken me also turned and my thoughts of completing a 1 and 2 for the race with Nico vanished.

I pulled off a little acceleration to finish and completed the course in 24:32 or an average speed of 3:46 per km according to the Garmin. This was 34 seconds slower than last year due to the wind and the tiredness but Iwas very happy with the result. Nico achieved his first ever win outright in a race and was also chuffed. Unfortunately, Fabrice took a wrong turn towards the end which cost him a few seconds and any hopes of a podium for the veterans. He'll probably be looking for his next race and a possible podium now.