Trail du Tour du Canton - 82km

"Why was I here ?", was the first question I asked myself on Saturday morning when I got up at 4:15am. It was only the promise of obtaining 2 points for completing the trail around the Normandy countryside that would then allow me to enter the Ultra Trail du Mont Blanc (UTMB) and its 160km and 10000m of uphill that pushed me to participate. You might find this hard to fathom, and I have to admit the logic isn't clear to me either, that someone only enters a 82km trail to be able to compete in an even harder, even longer trail next year. Well, not only was I here, but I'd persuaded François to take part too whereas Laurence and Katia were running the 42km trail a little later in the day.

After an early breakfast, we hitched a ride with Fabrice (a guy we met the previous night at the hotel who was running too) and by 5:45am we were all ready, dressed in running tights, compression socks, a couple of warm layers and the headlamp ready for the briefing by the organisers. So there would be lots of mud, plenty of refreshment stops and the hardest parts were at the end - that was as much as I could take in at this time in the morning.

We walked down to the start from the gym and waited patiently for the off. They lit the red flares, played the loud music and we were off. It waas an impressive sight as the headlamps flickered down the streets in the red shadows cast by the flares.

François and I set off together, slowly working our way through the runners until we were in about 20th position and running at a steady 5'15/km pace. I'd hoped that we'd be able to manage 5'/km for most of the race but François was unsure of his capacity to maintain this, never having run further than a marathon before.

I was a little cold despite my 2 layers on top with a cold wind that was cutting through the fabric. My jacket was in my rucksack but I couldn't be bothered to stop and unpack it, besides which it was too big for the elements as I'd erred on the side of caution with a jacket adapted for heavy Normandy rain. The paths went through fields and we soon had an idea of the mud that we'd have to run through. Nevertheless, the first kilometres were also along plenty of tracks which were generally dry and fairly rapid. 1 hour already and the first 11 km were under our belts. A couple of kilometres later and we were at the first feeding station and I took the opportunity to eat and drink rapidly.

It was still dark for the next hour too and we ran another 11km at a steady pace. François was slowing slightly and I would wait every 4 or 5 km to let him catch up and to start again together. Despite trying to run alongside François and to let him set the pace, naturally I would drift a little ahead, building a gap of 300 - 400m in 20 - 30 minutes. This was not a problem since we didn't talk much with both of us focusing on the job in hand. The second feeding station was at 25km and day was jsut beginning to dawn when we arrived. We both enjoyed a nice soup here and some more food before setting off again. I could see that François was feeling more tired now and the pace was around 5'30 / km compared to the initial 5'15 we'd been averaging. I was still feeling very easy at this stage and wondering if I'd feel this good until the end. There were fewer road sections now and more fields and tracks through the woods. Would this have an impact?

A typical muddy field that we'd have to cross. The terrain was generally mostly flat in the first half of the race.








At 37km we entered Bolbec, the main town in the area, for the third feeding station and the roughly halfway point. We had organised a bag to be here with a change of clothes but neither François not I felt the need since it had not rained. We were joined by Fabrice, our driver, who asked if he could run with us so we set off again after some more soup as a little group with a couple of extra runners who'd also tagged on. I chatted easily to Fabrice about our experiences on the CCC and waited every now and then for François. It was just before the next feeding station at the 50km mark that disaster struck. I was crossing a muddy cornfield with the plants reduced to a cut down stump, forcing a higher stride when I felt a pain in my left achilles tendon. No doubt that I'd strained this again. However, it was when I left the field and ran along the road to encouragements of how it was tarmac until the feeding station that I realised just how bad it was. My achilles pulled incredibly and the agony was almost unbearable. I adjusted my stride to a shuffle, gritted my teeth and carried on to the next stop where I had some soup and waited for François. I told him about the pain and that I continue at my own pace in the best manner possible.

To make matters worse, the course began to get difficult from here on. there were virtually no roads until the end. We ran down paths that had been washed away and that looked like riverbeds that had dried up, twisting your ankles as you ran and sending pointed stones into your ankles as you scuffed them with your feet. I was tired with the pain and the distance and to add to my woes, I had problems with my eyes focusing on the track ahead. I was seeing double and my only solution was to close one eye as I ran. This was the low point of the course : cold, wet, in pain and unable to see properly, I seriously thought of abandonning now. I just wanted to get to the next feeding station to see how things would be, knowing that this was situated at 64km and there would only be 18km to go.

When I finally reached the feeding station, it was lovely and warm inside. I called François to see where he was and to encourage him with the news that the resting place wasn't far. He arrived a couple of minutes later and he looked as tired as I felt.We sent a couple of messages to the girls and after another cup of tea and some food, we headed back into the cold to finish the final legs. I ran with François all the time now and we felt good knowing that there was only one more feeding station before the final leg of 8kms back to Beuzeville. I encouraged François to try and overtake an older man we'd seen at the last feeding station who looked like he was a V2 (over 50). We caught up with the runner in front, only to find it was a young man (who was running like an 80 year old due to the tiredness!).Having overtaken this runner, we were soon able to see another runner 250m ahead. I didn't dare tell François that this was our guy, having made the mistake once already. I caught up with him and checked first. It was the V2 runner, so I waited again for François and urged him on. We didn't catch up with him for another kilometre and then we stopped and chatted together at the last feeding station. I felt better now, knowing that we'd made it as there was only another 7 - 8 kilometres before the finish.

François asked for a cup of tea and I couldn't believe it. Here we were next to the runner he wanted to beat and he asks for a cup of tea. The V2 leaves the feeding station and I hassle François to finish his tea and go. This last leg is the muddiest section yet. There are 2 deep ruts full of water and mud or the middle of the track which is deep mud. Hobson's choice: I chose the ruts - at least the water wasn't as slippery as the mud in the middle. We caught the V2 runner and I left François at this point, trying to accelerate to catch Laurence and Katia who I knew were ahead having run the 42km with the same last 8 kilometres to the race. The phone rang and it was Laurence asking where I was as she had just finished. I explained that I was about 5k from the end but didn't know exactly as my Garmin had died after 4 hours. I spent the next kilometres chasing down the competitors from the 42 km (and 1 from the 82k race) and overtaking them. I finished exhausted and waited for François who came in 10 minutes behind me. What a relief.

It was a good race with an excellent organisation but unfortunately my achilles wasn't up to it in my trail shoes. I finished 26 overall in 9h11 with François in 9h21 in 28th place (and just in front of the 4th V2!). The girls ran well finishing 2 and 3rd from scratch and 1 and 2nd in the V1 category. Laurence was thrilled.

The recovery went well from the race and I'm only nursing the achilles which I hope will improve in the next few days. Quiet now until the end of the year.

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.

Guerlédan 58km - part 2

Now where was I ? Oh yes, half-way through the middle of a race having just caught the leading female runner. As a reasonably good male runner, one of my objectives in every race is to be ahead of the first female runner. I'm not particularly macho in my attitudes to women, but nothing beats the satisfaction of finishing ahead of the first woman in a race. And I felt this now, running along this flat section, having just crossed the dam at the far end of the lake and catching the female runner in front along the flat.

I ran alongside her (Karine Sanson), and gave her a few words of encouragement. I have to admit that I was pushing it a little here. I catch her up and then pretend that I'm as fresh as a daisy by talking to her and telling her she's doing well. She asked where the second woman was. I deduced that she was going through a tough patch at this point in the race, hence the looks behind her to see where her nearest opponent was. I reassured her by saying that I'd overtaken her a couple of kilometres ago and that she was suffering, which effectively had been the case. This had the desired effect and we ran together before I pulled ahead again.

My lead on her didn't last long as the road section beside the lake tapered out and we headed up hill back into the forest. She caught me up as I walked up the path. Obviously, I need not only to improve my running endurance but also my uphill walking speed as she wasn't the only runner / walker to overtake me up the hills. I followed a few metres behind her and then we hit the road again, but this time an uphill section that led to a junction at the top. At the top of the hill, François from the club was waiting and cheering runners on. He didn't recognise me at first (I must have been looking shattered already) but then he told me that the second feeding station was just a few hundred metres further on. This information and the spectators spurred on Karine and she sped up to 4:20 pace leaving me for dead. She didn't stop at the feeding station and ran straight through, something that I wasn't prepared to do, needing to refill the camelbak and eat some bananas. I added some coke to the camelbak, diluted with a little water. This mixed in with the orange then the artificial rasperry-flavoured energy drink that I'd taken on board at the first feeding station. Probably one of the most disgusting flavoured mixes ever devised, but at least it provided sugar and some instant energy.

I set off again, happy in the thought that I'd completed 33km and that there was only 25km to run. My 10km/h average pace had slipped slightly now as I'd gone through 20km in just over 2 hours and 30km in 3:05. As I ran past the campsite, some children called out to me that I was in 115 place. This seemed feasible as I'd been told 15km earlier that I was in 156 position. A top 100 place was still possible if I could keep it up now. Over the next few kilometres the trail descended back beside the lake and the path was relatively flat. As I'd been accustomed, I'd catch runners along these sections and this happened again as I passed Karine once more. This was it I told myself, she's not coming back at me now. Just keep it steady and you'll have a top 100 position and be in front of the first woman. A respectable race!

It just doesn't happen like that on a trail race and the outcomes are far from predictable. Up ahead, at the front of the race, 2 runners were battling it out with the winner from the previous 2 years being one of them. He apparently gave advice all of the way around to the younger runner about when to attack, when to hold back and when the crunch came, he just couldn't make the break this year. Not only did he fail to take the 1st place, he also lost 2nd place as the third runner came back in the last 6km to catch him and to relegate him to third position. I was unaware of all of this and it was far from my preoccupations. I was only interested in finishing and this was getting harder and harder. The trail may have been flat here, but the organisers through in a couple of other difficulties just to keep it interesting: too flat - go under an electric fence then; to flat - cross a field trampled by cows in the mud which has hardened; too flat - throw in another electric fence then.

The runners were well spread out by now and when you did catch a runner, he'd be alone or in groups of 2 at most. This was the case now, as we headed back into the forest on the north side of the lake and the sharp uphills and downhills had an impact on the fatigue and general exhaustion of the runners. I felt it too. The uphills were harder and harder and the downhills were just as hard as I had to pick my carefully through the trees and rocks. It was as I went down one such set of stairs, made out of old railway sleepers, that the guy behind me fell. Thump, I heard as he hit the step with the base of his back. I stopped and turned back to check if he was alright. Visibly shaken, he took a few minutes to stand up and I wondered how long it would take to get him to first aid. Another runner behind stopped too and we asked if he was able to continue. He jogged along at first so I took off and left him, focused only on finishing now. 15 minutes later, he ran past me and I wouldn't see him until the other side of the finish line. Tough breed these trailers !

I passed the third feeding station which was supposed to be water only. Somebody had been feeling generous though as I helped myself to some more banana and coke and water mix for the camelbak. I was told that I was 99th runner here and I was happy to be in line with my objective. I set off quickly, grabbing a couple of places while the other runners took longer on replenishing their supplies and their stomaches. Apathy struck though as I walked more and more hills, my legs and thighs too tired to make any effort. I thought only about the finish now and completing the race in under 6hours30. I calculated that I had to be running (/walking) 8 km/h to achieve this objective which meant every kilometre in 7:30 on average. Even this was hard as I saw more and more 8:XX on the Garmin for the splits.

Disaster struck at around 48km. I heard runners behind me and Karine passed with 2 guys in red Salomon outfits accompanying her. I tried to tag along but I couldn't keep up the pace on the uphills and even along the flat, the surfaces were so uneven that I didn't have any advantage. I was going up yet another hill, when a marshal spoke to me quietly, telling me that it should be a point of honour to finish in front of the first woman. As if I needed to be told - apparently I'm not alone in my way of thinking! The rest of the race from this point on became a blur as I was too tired to think properly, to focus or to run in a reasonable manner. I was happy to have some encouragement at 53km when Delphine, Jean-Claude and Michel cheered me on. I knew it wasn't far now as we'd arrived back on the first loop of the course from the previous day. Unfortunately, I also knew what that involved. It took me over 11:30 to complete a kilometre here now, the same stretch that I'd run 5 minutes faster the day before. I didn't care - I was going to finish and be able to rest.

And so that was it. I left the last downhill behind me and crossed the stream, struggling to get up the river bank on the far side. I crossed the line almost 2 minutes after Karine, and 9 places behind her. 105 position in a time of 6:27:02, so I lost a few places in the last few kilometres. I was cold, wet and tired and could only think about jumping in a shower despite the encouragement from Nick, Anne and Régis at the end. A quick shower and a change of clothes and I was back at the finishing line, under an umbrella this time. Gérald and Fred had finished; Gérald 18 minutes behind me and Fred 10 minutes behind him. Where was Laurence though ?

I was unable to call Laurence to find out how she was getting on as my Blackberry was also a victim of the race. Stuck in the side pocket of my rucksack, it had been immersed in water and now refused to function. How was she doing ? Laurence crossed the finishing line in 8:30 and was the first woman from the club. She was elated to have completed the distance and shed a few tears as she arrived.

So, the longest, furthest and hardest race that I've ever run. I set off steadily but still faded at the end of the race. The last 15km took me 2 hours to complete. With some more training, I'm sure that I could shave 30 minutes off this time which would put me into the first 50 runners. I finished 8th in the challenge over the 2 combined races and was pleased with this result. Even 30 minutes less would still not have got me onto the podium. The result was encouraging for both of us and we'll use this to set ourselves some bigger challenges for next year. There I'm sure that I'll beat the first woman....

Guerlédan 58km - part 1

We'd had a good night in Britanny and I'd eaten to excess. One of the local specialities is kig ha farz and I had second helpings. This dish is made from a knuckle of pork which is pot-roasted with carrots and potatoes and a black wheat stuffing which absorbs the juices and is served as an accompaniment to the meal. All of this was served with a lipig, a sauce made form onions and the cooking juices, slow-roasted for several hours. Delicious.

I stood on the starting line in the drizzle with my running top and my Gore jacket on, feeling my legs still tired from the previous day and my belly full of kig ha farz. The sun had disappeared and it felt like a typical day in the Lake District with the drizzle falling steadily and that feeling that you know that you won't be seeing the sun all day. I wasn't too excited about this race, unlike the 13km, as I knew what to expect. The only question was when. When would I feel so exhausted that I wouldn't want to continue? When would I experience that tiredness in my legs that saps all motivation? When would I feel like abandoning the race?

Laurence and I spoke to Claire in the tent sheltering from the rain and then we met up with the others from the club as they arrived. We were 13 in all and my aim was to be first from the club home with Gérald and Olivier as my closest competitors. The race was going to be tough and a real trail, unlike the Ecotrail in the Paris region that we ran in March. Some of the top trailers from the country, and all of the best Britanny trailers were there and the competition was announced to be fierce at the front. My objectives were simple: take it easy to begin with and keep it steady over the course; stay ahead of Gérald and Olivier and keep with them if they approached; and lastly, try and beat 6:30, the time I'd said that I'd manage to Nico. We wished best of luck to everyone and lined up at the start and then we were off.

There were over 800 runners registered for the race and there were plenty of people there despite the rain. All of the runners were well equipped with  trailshoes, bags, camelbaks, booster leggings, and caps or scarves. I had my Mizunos on as I wanted to be comfortable rather than trudging around with good grips but heavy shoes. The start was easy with everyone chatting away in a friendly manner as gradually the field stretched out as we ran for over 2km along the tow path beside the canal. This didn't last long before we pulled away up the hill into the forest and ran the loop that we'd run in the second half of the race the previous day. I was happy as I knew where I was going and what to expect but I could still feel the tiredness in my legs and my thigh pain which hadn't bothered me the day before. Gérald and Olivier were behind me as I'd worked my way up through the pack slightly until I'd found a pace that I was really comfortable with, just under 5:00 per km.

The ups and downs were endless as we left the loop after 7.5km and headed west towards Gouarec. We had some really steep hills which I walked from the start and I remember loooking at the Garmin after 1 hour and seeing that we'd only covered 10km (59:38 to be precise). We ran back down to the towpath at this point and I picked up speed here to run what would be my fastest kilometre of the whole course in 4:33! Luckily I didn't know this and I carried on through the town and out the other side back up some more steep hills to the crests to the north of the canal, now heading eastwards back towards the lake. This was a steep climb and I made this 14th kilometre in 8:34 and it was about this point that I began to wonder if I would be able to make it all of the way around the course. Somebody called out 156 to me and I wondered if I would be able to catch anybody and improve on this position as I wasn't feeling brilliant and I didn't seem to be making any headway against the runners ahead. I looked at the line of runners along the crest of the hills that reminded me strongly of walks in the Lake District or in Scotland with heather and bracken underfoot and drizzle and a strong sidewind blowing. At least I wasn't feeling too hot.

We passed the photographers on the last stretch of the hill top and then headed back down towards the lake. I could see it stretched out in the valley in front of me and the prospect of running the 30 odd kilometres around the bugger was not as appealing as it had been when I signed up for this challenge. We headed downhill now and my legs felt easier. In a nutshell, every uphill section was hell and I felt that I would never manage and every downhill and flat section I felt fine and caught runners ahead of me. At the bottom of the hill was the first feeding station and the dog who'd pestered me all the way down was finally reunited with its owner; only he was a runner too and set off again just as I did. There were a group of 3 trailers ahead of me and then the man with his dog, which he picked up in his arms to carry across the steel bridge over the canal. On the other side of the canal, we started the next section of the race that would take us around the lake. My focus was just on getting to the next feeding station at 33km, another 12km to go.

With the Garmin and my recorded splits, I am able to see in retrospect what happened; something that is impossible to analyse objectively as you run. The last section before the feeding station was along the flat and I'd caught several runners, averaging 5:00 per kilometre. We now ran alongside the lake where I'd hoped that the path would be flat beside the water, but unfortunately proved to be very difficult with sharp little rises and sharp descents, stopping any rhythm that I would begin to find. I was looking at my Garmin, stuck behind the 3 runners watching the splits with 6:11, 6:34 then 6:38 showing up. I was looking to average 6:00 per kilometre in order to maintain a 10km per hour average and finish in 6 hours allowing for a slowdown towards the end. This was too slow and my friend with his dog had the same idea - he pushed past and I followed. It had been too easy, not in the legs, but in the heartrate and I could feel my heart pound faster as we picked up the pace together, accompanied by the pointer. We ran the next few kilometres together at between 5:00 and 5:30 pace depending on the terrain. He tended to be faster up the hills (like most of the runners I met!) while I was faster along the flat and downhill.

We left the lakeside and the small tracks to a larger track south of the lake and I was able to pick up speed again. This helped my legs as I lengthened my stride, easing some of the calf and thigh muscles used in the hillier sections. I caught a number of runners here, including a female runner who I understood to be the second female in the race at this point. I was also able to leave the dog and runner behind which was good as the dog was beginning to annoy me. We crossed over the dam at this point and I saw a runner in black just ahead who kept looking back. I caught the runner up along the far side after the dam, which represented roughly the half-way point. I knew that we weren't far from the second feeding station and this cheered me up too. The runner in black was the first female runner and I enjoyed the satisfaction of knowing that I wouldn't be "chicked". Only it wasn't that easy - sure I 'd caught her up, but there were more uphills and she came back at me and overtook me again.

To be continued ...

Guerlédan 13km

The sun was shining and the sky was spotted with little fluffy white clouds while the temperature hovered around the 15°C mark. It was ideal race conditions and I was even relaxed about the whole affair.

Laurence and I had arrived at the Guerlédan site just before midday after a 5 hour drive from the outskirts of Paris.I'd been very chivalrous and driven the whole way as we left just after 6am. The sight of Laurence half-asleep in the passenger seat wasn't conducive to her taking the steering wheel anyway. After a non-eventful journey (apart from being stopped and breathalysed by the police at 6:30am), we had arrived safe and sound for the club's trail weekend in Britanny. Over the next couple of hours, we were gradually joined by all the other members of St Germain over for the weekend: Nick and Anne, Gérald, Régis, Delphine, Philippe and Catherine, Stéphane and Claire to name but a few. There were 40 of us in all for 3 events: 13km trail, 23km trail and the last - the 58km trail. 3 of us had signed up for the "défi" or the challenge. This involved running the 13km trail on Saturday and then the 58km trail on Sunday morning with the winner based on the combined times over both races. Gérald, Stéphane and myself had signed up as our own personal challenge with Stéphane, a seasoned trailer, using it as preparation for the Tour des Glaciers de la Vanoise (TGV).

I had looked at the results of the défi last year and thought that a 1:15 run for the short trail and then 6:30 run for the long trail was possible and that this would put me in the first 6 or 7 runners. A podium might even be possible but this would obviously depend on the quality of the field, the weather conditions and my shape on the day. Gérald was looking to compete with me, but never having run a trail before or run further than a marathon, he was going into unknown territory. We agreed however that the défi would be won or lost on the long trail and that we shouldn't burn ourselves out on the 13km race, so we could run together. With this in mind, we lined up together on the start line.

The gun went and we set off together at what felt a reasonable pace. The Garmin indicated the first kilometre along the flat and beside the river in 3:58. I told Gérald this and that we were running easily. The nice flat section suddenly took a turn for the worse and we ran the next kilometre up the road gaining 120metres in the process (12% average slope for you non-mathematicians!) - Garmin beeped again, only this time showing 6:00 ! Gérald looked easy and could have run on, but I found this hard not being a natural hill-runner. He looked around and slowed down a little, waiting for me to catch up the 5 metres that separated us. The course flattened out a little now and I followed Gérald, letting him set the speed along the track as we left the road behind us. Another short uphill section and then a long steep downhill and I was pushing Gérald and then passing him as he used more caution in his descents.

We went through the 3 kilometre marker and then a steep uphill section again past 4 then 5km. The track was now too steep to run and we walked as quickly as possible trying to maintain our places amongst the other runners. Gérald walks quicker uphill too and he gained another 10 metres on me here as he outstrode me up the slopes. I quickly caught this up as we went downhill again and he told me to press on. Years of reckless scree running paid off now as I descended quickly, passing a couple of runners in the process. We went through 6 kilometres and then out onto the road near the start having completed a small circuit to the east of the start.

We set off westwards now to complete the circuit with a loop in the forest on the other side of the start. This firstly involved an uphill section in a sort of natural half-pipe. The leaves had settled in the bottom of this gulley and were covered in moss. As we ran up this, I had the impression that we were running on a sort of natural bouncy castle; and the going wasn't easy. Gérald caught me up again here and we ran together for a while with another runner before we hit another downhill section and I pulled ahead again. Another uphill, then downhill and Gérald and I continued our cat and mouse game until we reached a long downhill section and I pulled ahead determinedly. We hit a flatter section and I looked behind to slow down and wait for Gérald. I saw the colours of our third runner and decided that although we had agreed to run together, I wasn't going to lose a place now waiting and so I pushed on.

Apart from the uphill sections, I didn't have the impression that I'd been racing flat out. I was relaxed and not in the same frame of mind as say a 10km road-race. I followed the forest track and saw a runner ahead of me for the first time in a long time in the race, as the trees and forest meant that the head of the field was never visible. I decided not to push it and to just run easily but I was steadily pulling him in. I had just run past 11km now and a marshal told me that there was 2.8km to go. So the 13km race was actually 13.8km and I still had a chance to catch him. The 200m that separated us slowly reduced to 100m and then 50m. I figured that we had about 500m to run now and when we hit the last road section, I was so determined to catch the guy that I really picked the pace up and began to fly. I'd underestimated the distance to run though and my sprint lasted a lot longer than I'd first thought was necessary. To make it worse, we had a stream to wade through, a bank to climb and then 100m to run through the grass to the finish. Having overtaken the guy, I wasn't going to let this get me down now and I ran this last kilometre in 3:36 (stream, grass and all!).

I finished in 30 place, having completed the 13.8km course in 1:10:22 or an average of 5:05 per km. The Garmin shows almost 500m of uphill over the course, which is a little optimistic, but I think that 350m would be fairly close. I was pleased with my performance and also to see Gérald finish just behind me in 32 position and 1:11:02. So now I had a full 40 second advantage for the trail the next day, but would that be sufficient...

To be continued.

Trail running with Laurence

It's Ascension day today in France and as a good Catholic country, it is also a public holiday. So much for the separation between the church and the state in France - but since it's a day off for everyone who am I to argue. We're making the most of the prolonged weekend by taking a day off tomorrow too and spending the weekend in Aurillac in the Cantal. This is a lovely part of the country and is most famous for its cattle (salers - big red cows with long horns), its hilly countryside and its umbrellas.

Laurence and I wanted to make the most of the day by running up to St Simon along the old road and then uphill and along some old trails along the hillside up the valley to Rouffiac, before turning around and running back along the other side of the valley. It had rained here over night and the road was damp. This is only remarkable since the Cantal is one of the rare regions not to be severely affected by the drought over the last couple of months, unlike the rest of France. Running was very pleasant since the temperature was cool but the skies had cleared and we were accompanied all of the way round by sunshine.

I accompanied Laurence up to Rouffiac after 7.5 kms where she cut back to run back the main road. I was feeling particularly energetic and decided to continue on until the next hamlet, Clavières. We'd been running at around 6:00 per kilometre up until this point and I stretched away now running at just under 5:00 per km along the trails until the main road. I then managed the next 8 kilometres back down the main road at marathon pace including a couple of kilometres after St Simon at 3:53 then 3:47 as I pushed the pace in a not convinced hope of catching Laurence who now had a 4 km start on me. I felt really good after a good night's sleep and some beautiful countryside to inspire me though.

19.25 km all up in 1:35 before breakfast on the patio or an average speed of 4:57. Didn't catch Laurence who finished 8 minutes ahead. Nice start to the weekend.

Imperial Trail - Fontainebleau

Waiting for my partner ! Just setting off for my leg
Partner obviously gave it all he had ! Laurence finishing her leg. Still looking fresh !

(PS. Thanks to Jérôme, Claire's hubby, for the fantastic photos)

Trail runners are a sub-species of the human race with completely different qualities to the rest of us. They think nothing of entering races that are longer than marathon distance and abandoning family and friends to spend a weekend running across some mountains in the middle of nowhere. What on earth was I doing with them on a Saturday afternoon ?

It all happened during a moment of weakness a couple of Sunday's ago when I agreed, foolishly, to take part in a trail race in Fontainebleau over a distance of 65km. Luckily I wasn't going to be running all of it, just half as we were down for the duo category with Natanael my teammate for the race. Laurence had also signed up in an all women's team as a trio. So 23km for Laurence and 35km for me. I was treating it as a long run in preparation for the marathoon.

We arrived at the start an hour before the departure time, announced as 1:00 pm. We met up with Laurence's other halves, Pascale and Claire and I called my teammate to find out where he was - on the outskirts of Paris as they'd left late. Brilliant - here I was for an easy afternoon run and now I was stressed because my partner was probably going to miss the start!

We had 4 teams from the club for the duos: Laurent B and José (favourites to win), Natanel and myself, Patrick and Laurent K, Laurent Bénacérraf and Thierry; together with the women's team for the trio: Claire, Laurence and Pascale. After the intial panic about not arriving on time, the start was announced in waves with 5 minutes interval between each wave. The duos and trios started at the end, so 15 minutes after the first runners.

We saw off the first leg runners and then went in search of lunch. A quick stop in Fontainebleau for a sandwich before we headed off in the car to the first handover point at 19.5km which was also the handover point for the duo as there was a further 10km loop from here. We watched the first runners come through the checkpoint and Laurent arrived in second place for the duos, looking very comfortable and easy. Natanauel arrived about 5 minutes later, looking less comfortable and finding it harder to speak. The strain could definitely be seen on his face. They'd done the first section in around 1:40 for 19.5km so the going was faster than we had initially imagined. Half an hour later, Claire arrived and handed over to Laurence who set off for her section. Claire was delighted with her run and the scenery that the trail had provided. The path passed between boulders and runners had to scramble between rocks. I was just waiting now for the first runners to come back.

Laurent came in and handed over to José, unclipping the timing chip and fixing it around his ankle. The last 10k had been far harder than the start, with the leaders taking just uner an hour to complete 10k. And they call this a running race...! Natanael didn't show up for another 15 minutes and a good 9 or 10 duo teams had already made the changeover. I set off slowly, getting used to my new trail shoes (Asics Gel Lahar 2), which I found heavy and cumbersome after running and training exclusively in lightweight trackshoes for the last 6 weeks. I had forgotten to set the Garmin to training mode before I set off and it now took me over a kilometre before I could finally pick up the satellites and start the watch.

The scenery was fantastic with the path winding its way through the forest and up and over the ridges around Fontainebleau. I felt good and quickly caught plenty of runners doing the race solo (65km all by themselves) and then I caught some of the duo runners that I'd spotted while waiting for my partner. The speed was not fast as I was running up the hills at about 10km/h and then reaching just under 14km/h along the flat. I must have passed a good 10-15 runners when I passed a marshal who announced that I was in 26th place. I told myself that it would be good to get into the top 20, so I set off again, motivated to catch as many as I could.

I passed the first feeding station after 13km (where Laurence would have over to the final leg of the trio) and I began to feel a bit tired. I told myself that there was still over 20k to do and I had to keep going steadily. The kilometres passed regulalry now and I paid no attention to the Garmin, just concentrating on the trail and the bits of race tape attached to the trees to show the path. There were fewer and fewer runners but I managed to overtake another 6 or 7 and was into the top 20. The path between the boulders was very complicated with it winding in directions that I didn't expect or anticipate. Several times I had to run back uphills as I set off downhill too quickly missing the tape in the process. I passed another marshall who told me that I was only a couple of minutes behind a couple of runners and so I set off in pursuit of them.

3 km later I spotted a runner ahead and chased him down. He was also the second leg of a duo and I smiled inside as I'd made another place in the ranking. The last feeding station was ahead at 54km and when I arrived I was the only one there. When I left I was still alone not having glimpsed another runner. The 2 cups of coke were a godsend and I felt that I was able to continue but running on my energy reserves only. The pace that I'd been achieving earlier along the flat was unthinkable now and I was running at about 12km/h on the flat and 8-9km/h up the hills. The legs were definitely tired. I was caught by another runner at this point (the only one during the whole race) and he left me easily, skipping down the hill with a freshness that I could only just admire. I just concentrated on keeping the legs turning over and not losing too much time.

I looked at the Garmin regularly now to comfort myself with every extra kilometre that I achieved. I had 31km on the watch and I estimated that I had another kilometre unrecorded from the start to add to that. I turned a corner at this point and saw what looked like 2 runners ahead. I was cautious since I'd already seen other walkers along the path but as I got closer I could see that they were competitiors and furthermore one of them was José. I was thrilled now as I was catching them rapidly and I thought of the pleasure in being the first runner from St Germain to finish. I had managed something that initially was unthinkable. Another problem quickly arose as when I caught the 2 runners, we saw a wild boar cross our path, then another and then 2 more. We slowed to a walk and watched the group of boar as they watched aside just to the right of the path. We got closer still and then about 4 or 5 baby boar crossed the path 10 metres in front of us too. I wasn't going to argue with these animals and was glad when we finally cleared this area and was able to start running again.

I was on a high from now on until the finish and even the onset of minor cramps in my legs didn't dispirit me. I could see another runner in front who was suffering from cramps as he pushed against a wall 500m ahead and I chased him to the finsih only to end 5 metres behind him at the line. It was almost dark now and we'd been running as a team for 6:34 and I'd personally run for 3:30 of those: my longest run ever in time.

Pleased to have taken part. Laurence was happy too. Scenery was fantastic, path could have been better marked, but organisation overall was very good.

Good marathon training.

35.6 k on the Garmin (plus 1.5 to add) in 3:22 (plus 8 minutes).

Sunday trailing

Met with the guys from the club at 9:00 am and the first word of welcome from Nico was that I looked tired. Charming - the young lad will go far in diplomacy. OK so Laurence and I stayed out late last night; and I probably did drink one whisky too many; and I did eat too much dessert; nut the last thing I wanted to be welcomed with first thing in the morning is how dreadful I look.

So, it was with no regrets that I left Jean-Marc, Nico, Bruno and Fabrice to go off and run their session around les Charmilles, while I set off with Laurence and a dozen trailers towards the woods of Marly le Roi.

Trailers are a breed apart. They don't run fast. I think that most of them take up trail running when they realise that they can't keep up with the pace anymore and pretend that they run only to enjoy the scenery and that speed doesn't matter. The first few kilometres of warm-up were very sedate and I had to do everything I could to rein myself in and not disappear into the distance.

We finally arrived at Marly Forest and it was then that I discovered another fact about trailers. Trailers only run at one speed. What was a very sedate speed along the flat became exhausting as you began to run uphill. These weren't just little slopes either: they went out of their way to find the steepest slopes possible with gradients of 33% fairly common.

The effort was considerable and with the lovely weather and sunshine and a very pleasant temperature on what is likely to prove to be one of the last days of summer, I was soon sweating buckets and dreading the next slope that loomed as we ran along.

Trailers don't care about speed. We were running at between 6:30 and 7:00 per km pace but the hills were unending. I managed to keep up with José and Laurent at the front of the group on the flat and at the start fo the hills, but towrads the top of the hill, they still seemed to have the energy to continue while I was shattered.

After 2 hours of non-stop hills, it was decided to call it a day and to head back home. José announced that we would run back at 'marathon speed' and promptly took off with Laurent on his heels. I stuck with them and since the going was mostly downhill and the paths were wider, I took the lead and stretched my legs a little. It was a great feeling and I'm definitely in shape at the moment. We were now running at about 18km/h down the hills and at 15km/h along the flat.

A great outing and they convinced Laurence and I to take part in the Imperial Trail in Fontainebleau in 2 weeks time. I'll run with Nathaniel and Laurence with Pascale. Should be good marathon training, both mentally and for the legs.

22.5 km all up in 2:20. It sounds pathetic in distance for the time taken but it was hard work. Almost forgot, the Garmin registered over 800m of uphill over the course this morning which is the equivalent of an extra 8km on the flat. This makes the time more reasonable.

85km this week and I'm still feeling good.

Trail du Vexin

It was a beautiful sunny morning when we woke up and once again the weather forecasters were completely wrong about the rain front that was supposed to be crossing the country. This was a relief as I didn't really want to run through muddy fields with 2kg of mud attached to each foot, but I left the house with a cap to protect my fragile head from the sun anyway.

We picked up Christèle and Jean-François and headed to Issou for the start of the race. The GPS took us to the town no problem, but nobody in the car had any idea where the start was situated. Luckily, it's only a small town and the streets were full of cars spilling runners out into the roads so we decided to park and wander off in the direction that the other runners were taking.



We went though some small gates and found ourselves in the wonderful grounds of an old uninhabited castle. The registration area was teaming with athletes and as we went to pick up our bibs, we bumped into most of the other runners from the St Germain club: Thierry, José, Yannick, Nick B, Philippe, Catherine and many others. We all had a good chat and enjoyed the sunshine before the start of the first race.

2 races were organised for the morning: the first to start was the 36km race which shared the course with the second race until the 13th kilometre before adding an extra loop: and the second course, which we were entered for covering 19km.

We watched the first race go off and then lined up ours. The sun was beginning to gain in heat and still no clouds in sight. The temperature was very pleasant and I was able to stand in my singlet without feeling the cold whatsoever. My aim was to finish in my target time for a half-marathon in around 1:25 and I figured I would be in the first 15-30 runners. The best runners from the club: Thierry, José and Yannick were all down for the 36km race, so my club competition for this race would be coming from Nick B.

We set off at a steady pace. I didn't want to tire myself from the start and knew that there would be plenty of time to catch others over the distance. I ran with Nick for a few hundred metres at the beginning before he let me go. The course wound its way up past the castle and along a wooded track behind, creeping gradually upwards. I was running just behind a small group, telling myself not to let them stretch away from. The pace, after the first km in 4:30 had settled down to a steady 4:10 - 4:15 rhythm.

Already, I could feel that I wasn't totally involved in the race. My mind was elsewhere and I was going through the motions but the heart wasn't quite in it. We arrived at the first feeding station after 6km and I grabbed a glucose drink and carried on. The sun was beating down now and I was starting to overheat. I hated the long passages through the rape fields, running in ruts left by tractors and trying to overtake slower runners from the 36km race who'd set off 15 minutes earlier. Trails are so unlike road running as you can't get into a rhythm and every stride has to be taken carefully in order to avoid twisting an ankle in a rut or slipping in the mud.

At around 9 km there was a steep stretch of uphill on the road and I ran up this slowly. I was overtaken by another runner who stopped shortly after and began to walk. I overtook him again and then was overtaken in turn by Nick who invited me to run with him. I was tired and fed up now and I let him go. The will to race was slipping away and the course was getting harder and harder: the going was all uphill now and the sun was relentless.

Another kilometre further on and yet another hill and my willpower went. I began to walk up the hill and then jogged as the incline decreased. I slowed the pace and thought only about reaching the next feeding station at 13km. This one was perched at the top of the hill and I remembered from the course profile that this was the highest point. I stopped for a couple of glasses of water and then poured one over my head. Thoughts of the Paris Marathon were ever present and I was determined not to repeat that experience.

I set off again and my performance improved from then on. Nick was long gone but I could see other runners ahead now and I began to catch them slowly. I had stopped looking at my watch and was just concentrating on finishing the course. The going was easier as it was in the shade of the forest and downhill. At long last, I was able to get my legs turning over steadily and concentrate on the runner ahead rather than on the track 2 metres in front of my nose.

The last feeding station appeared and I took my 2 cups of water and repeated the operation: one for the head, one to drink. Off again and I could feel that the runner in front was tiring. I overtook him on one of the last uphills but unfortunately, he responded and stuck to me as I increased the pace. I stayed ahead for a kilometre until around 17.5km and then he set off again and I couldn't reply. 1 kilometre to go was posted on the next sign and this was encouraging. I had looked around earlier and there were no runners in sight behind. I just kept steady and concentrated on the finish.

Into the castle grounds and down a small slope: 500 metres to go. I heard a noise behind me and 2 runners came past. This was totally unacceptable. Despite my head telling me not to bother, it's not worth it, my legs responded and I followed them. Another last effort, and I overtook them on the last bend, sprinting the last 200 metres to the finish. Lose 2 places after almost 90 minutes of effort: no way!

Finished in 1:29:23 in 20th position. Nick B. finished 8 places ahead and 3:30 faster. He had been speeding over the second half of the course, putting all of that time over me in 9km.

Graph showing course profile and speed. (Note severe drop in pace uphills!)

I waited for Laurence and Christèle, expecting them to have run together. Laurence showed first though and was clearly flushed from the heat and the physical exertion. She'd left Christèle after 7 km and had suffered with her knee, still not recovered fully from the marathon.

All in all good training. I needed a good 5 minutes and several cups of water to recover from the race and heat. Don't know how I'll manage the Pastourelle if it's sunny like that. Time will tell.

Snow trail

No time to run yesterday as I was too tied up at work and then we left in the evening to go on holiday for a week (this is why you won't be able to call us at home bros over the next 10 days).

We are in Aurillac for a few days and as we arrived in the car late last night it was to a wintry scene with a good 15 cm of snow in the fields and 5-10 cm of snow on the roads. I got up this morning and thought about where I would run for 75 minutes for my marathon training today. I settled on heading up the old road to St Simon and then up the hill past this village and onto the mountain bike trail that contours around the valley to Rouffiac before coming back on the main road. I had a rough idea of the mileage but was relying on the Garmin to help me.

I set out slowly to begin with and felt the tiredness in my legs. I put this down to the altitude and the fatigue from the trip. Garmin didn't pick up the satellite reception immediately and missed the first 400m, so first km in 8:02 ! Uphill after so 2nd in 5:12. Afterwards a nice downhill to speed up and then more uphill. I left the road then and followed the trail with some steep uphills and ankle deep in snow. This slowed me down further, completing a kilometre in 7:01. Back down to Rouffiac and finally back onto the main road back to St Simon and Aurillac.

I felt great now, the scenery was fantastic with virgin snow everywhere and the sky was bright blue. The temperature was around 2°C but I'd warmed up nicely and the road was easy compared to the fields and snow before. I stretched out and completed the next kilometres in 4:38, 4:25, 4:22, 4:18, 4:25, 4:12, 4:02, 4:16. I was flying, loving every minute of it and not feeling tired in the slightest. Absolutely fantastic.

Great way to forget the stress and fatigue from work. Vive les vacances!