First of all, I want to let you know that it was very hard to finish this post. On the first hand it was not easy to remember so many long races. One the other one, I have been working in best effort mode at my job for the last four weeks; which is bad for training, physical and mental rest as well.
2009 was definitely an ultra year; I stayed focused on distances over the marathon. I did not run any marathon race. Of course I ran the distance just for fun at training, but I was on my own, with my backpack.
The next chart represents my 2009 race planning, past and forthcoming races:
Month | Race name | Location | Description | Distance (km) | Status |
| February | La piste des Seigneurs | France Aveyron | Night trail Rodez to Millau | 72 | Done |
| March | 6h de Buc | France Yvelines | 6h race | 52 | Done |
| April | 100km de Belvès | France Périgord | 100km | 100 | Done |
| May | 12h de Villennes sur Seine | France Yvelines | 6/12/24h race | 82 | Done |
| June | Raid du Morbihan | France Morbihan | A one leg race | 174 | Done |
| September | 100km de Millau | France Aveyron | 100km | 100 | Planned |
| November | 24h d’Aulnat | France Puy de Dôme | 24h race | --- | Planned |
| December | ?? | ?? | ?? | --- | To be defined |
December 08: I badly twisted my ankle on the 50k Muir Beach trail run in San Fran at kilometer 15. I finished the race, running; did I already tell you that I am bloody stubborn idiot! I got a bad strain, healed it and thought that it was fixed. The race took place in gorgeous landscapes, shores, cliffs, forests. All that I love! And I met Luis Velasquez and Janet, his running buddy. I kept in touch with Luis; he is a warrior, got guts, trains very hard for ultra races and Ironman and does crossfit.
LOST SOMEWHERE IN TIME
February 09: I ran a 72k night trail run. A nice race linking Rodez to Millau (France) by the trails. The night was cold, some parts of the road were covered with hard snow, other were totally muddy. Sounds hard for my ankles. The scenery was beautiful, we ran through an Abbey and got an amazing point of view over the Millau Viaduct(a large cable-stayed road-bridge that spans the valley, the highest road bridge deck in the world: 890 ft, source Wikipedia). My mind was getting worse and worse because I could not stand the cold and my running tights were squeezing my stomach. The volunteers announced three times during the race that the trail was modified and each time they gave us a longer distance. So the initial distance raze from 64km to 72km. My GPS watch confirmed this fact. Unfortunately, I twisted again the same ankle 10km before the finish line.
BRING YOUR DAUGHTER TO THE SLAUGHTER
After this second issue, my osteopath warned me that I should dramatically change my behaviour to give a chance of recovering to my ankle. This time I crossed the yellow line of his curing capability. Steady boy! Time for good resolutions! I did my best to improve my training. I strengthened my ankle with specific workout and electro stimulation. And it just worked! I used to twist easily my ankles on natural grounds. This was history. My steps got stronger.
March 09: I attended a 6 hours race, “les 6 heures de Buc”. This was a rough test to check if the strain was fixed. The race was fine so I really got more confident. 6 hours running with my friends, so great.
THE LONELINESS OF THE LONG DISTANCE RUNNER
April 09: I signed for a 100km race in Belvès. It was my second one. I aborted my first attend in 2007 after 55km; I got injured –a tendinitis- because I was not used to run on the asphalt on a long distance.
This time, I did my training right, although my job did not let me practice all the scheduled workouts. So I strengthened my legs with those damned electro stimulation exercises: your muscles move on their own while you are fastened to a chair, freaky... Finally, it is like doing a rude training. Weird by efficient.
But let’s got back to Belvès. The race had a different flavour this year because it hosted the national 100km championship. Although, most of the runners were not concerned so far. Followers are allowed: every runner may ask a friend to ride a bike and support him during the race. The bikers have also a bib (same number as their runner). Only one bike per runner. Bikes were not allowed before km 15. So when we got to the meeting point, we went through a long alley of bikers, waiting in the rain.
I was on my own, dragging my stuffs in my backpack. I did not carry any water since there were an aid station every 5 kilometers. I took running clothes (T-shirts, socks), non rubbing foot cream, bandage for strapping, and food. Last year, the weather was shiny. I prepared my bag for a sunny day, with just a windbreaker for the early morning. Things went a little different way. It had been raining cats and dogs all over the race. A rainy and cold day. I was fine during the first 50km, drinking coffee every two aid stations to get warmer. The mood was friendly and I made small talks with other runners and friends. One of them, Jihem, even told me that I was speaking too much; I guess I disturbed his concentration. Then, the next 15 km after the 50th, the race really got harder, my speed decreased, I could not help this happening. I changed my socks at kilometer 60. My running clothes were so wet that I could wonder if I had run in a washing machine. My shoes were charged with water, I had regretted I could not change my clothes for dry ones. I had to dig deeply in my mental to find motivation to continue. During the next 20 kilometers, I really thought about giving up. My progression was so slow. Arriving at km 80, I wonder if I would stop. Legs were painful, the weather was still terrible, and my clothes keep my body cold. The aid station was in a solid building. A lot of runners choose to stop here. I found a helpful hairdryer and succeeded in getting warm. Then, I had a soup and decided to take some Advil. This was the good decision. After this stop, my mental get stronger and I was almost able to run faster! So good so far. You handled situations in a different way when mental is back. It is easy to stay positive. At km 85, the aid station turned to be a little “creperie”, the kind of restaurant where you are eating very those slim French pancakes. I did not test it, although it seems tasteful, but did not want to take the risk to give back the food. I was closed to the finish line.
Did I mention that the race was a 100km loop around Belvès? We started by a 2km down slope with a strong negative elevation gain. At km 98km, I was on my way back and figure out that I had to run on the opposite way. Oops. I was with another runner who decided to walk. I offered him a gel, he accepted gratefully but was too weak to open the cap. I could not believe it! So I did it for him. Then I ran till the end. I arrived in 12h44, which was acceptable according to my training and the race condition. My friend Jihem was waiting on the line.
Race statistics: 44% DNF and 657 finishers.
May 09: sounds not possible to rest and forget training. The week after the race, I was back to the gym, but practiced carefully. On the 23th, I attended a 12 hours race; it was a 24 hours (“les 24 heures de Villennes sur Seine”) that provided different flavours: 6h relay, 6h, 12h or 24h hours. I am a friend of the race directors; they also organized the 6h I had run in March. The 6 hours relay runners were so fast that I was confused, they did 83km. The race went on a 1.2km amazing loop, 60% on the asphalt, with a strong elevation gain of +9 meters: a loop ascending road followed by a short descent. I ran slowly, still tired by my 100km, took pictures, talked to friends, I had a very good time. At the end, I ran 82km (that’s a small score) but I got the lead position in my category! I could not believe it (I must confess that we were only a dozen runners on the 12h race).
FEAR OF THE DARK
June 09: The last 12 hours race was a test before the big one. The Raid of Morbihan: a 178km race that is not a raid because this is a one leg race. I had already attended this race last year; it took me more than 40 hours. The departure is given on a Friday evening at 5pm, so everybody is running at least a full white night. Then the faster runners finished before Saturday evening in 20 hours. I did not get this chance. I tried to take benefits from my previous experience and avoid mistakes. But you never expect what might happen.
I was dead tired by my job, but running this race became mandatory for keeping my mind sane. My little family came with me, so nice. We visited a butterfly farm a couple of hours before the race; it was relaxing; the air was wet like in a tropical forest.
The day was hot. Most of the runners started very quickly. I began running at 12km/h; that was damned insane, 8km/h would have been a better target speed. I was “twittering” my race for my buddies, taking pictures with the BlackBerry and posting them on my micro blog. The race was following the coastal trails around one of the most beautiful bay in Europe. There were some aid stations every 10 or 20 km. In three of them you might get back one of your bags. So you had the opportunity to change your shoes, clothes, whatever you want. We passed through lovely towns, bridge, sceneries. The crowd was greeting us, till the night fell.
At km 50, darkness encompassed the land, I reached the first big aid station: soup, coffee, pasta, ham, milk rice, foot doctors and a rest room. The rest room was dedicated for resting. Some runners slept a dozen of minutes or a couple of hours. I guess this year they did not sleep at all. The music was pouring very loud from a couple a big speakers, playing old 80’s songs!
Then I left the camp and start running in the dark. Most of the time, I was running alone, the runners were scattered. The night was cold but beautiful. At the next aid station I met a friend that was sick. He decided to stop; his body was unable to keep food. Sad. I filled-up one of my bottles with coke. Coke is the right balance between coffee, sugar and sparkling water. You got the benefits all in one. Although Coke might be terrible when there is still some gas in it. I had the experience a bunch of time. The bottle cap got off, letting a strong pressure of gas leaving the bottle at a tremendous speed, then a pink cloud of Coke poured into my coat that was sticking with sugar. Hopefully, it was the night and yellow jackets were sleeping. This was a moonless night. Later, I heard music piercing the air. In the middle of the path was standing a man playing an old Breton music instrument, a bombard. This encounter was so delightful that it gave me the strength to run all long the night without any issues (last year I twisted my ankle because I felt asleep while running…)
I arrived in the morning in Vannes after 94km at 8am. It was the middle of the trail, not of my journey! I had a shower. Felt like if I had slept the whole night. Good. Then I ate some soup, pasta and ham. I met a foot doctor; she drained the fluid out of the blister and re-injected it with eosin. This way to cure a blister is not appropriate when you are just in the middle of a race (the blister came back and I had to cure it a second time at the next big aid station at km 142). When I was about to leave, a judge stopped me. The old man was polite, shy and very annoyed. His job was to check if I was carrying in my bag all the mandatory equipment: 1.5l of water, an emergency blanket, head light, new batteries for the headlight, food, clothes, anti-inflammatory ointment. He was so confused that he did not ask me to show each item, a verbal response was enough.
The next aid station was located at 20km from here. An eternity after a sleepless night and a hard sun. This was an never-ending path, coastal trails, roads. I had to climb some rocks to access to a beach; I am not used to this and was afraid of falling. Then I finally reached the aid station after 4 hours. That seems terrible, believe me, I did not walk. I ate all my personal food, and my next bag was located at km 142. The food at the aid station was real crap. NOTHING TO EAT. I was starving and expecting coffee, cheese and meat. Just coke and pieces of sugar.
My wife gave me a call. We try to set up a meeting point on the way. We finally met 1 hour later in the middle of the forest. This was magic. I can remember last year, I was about to give up the race and my wife gave me the strength to hold on. I met my family at the same place. Emotion. My mind was stronger. The kilometer seems very long on that second day. I promised myself on the starting line that I would stop if I had to run 2 white nights. I moved so slowly that I had to accept that I would never do it in less than 28 hours. I twitted that I was about to give up. Feel tired, disappointed. Then I received several text messages and even a phone call from a friend, Nina. She forbade me to stop. I was so surprise that I got convinced. At this moment I was running along a motorway. Cars were going very fast and greeted us honking. I was at 15 km from the next station but it was hard to stay focus. And my phone ran out of batteries, I sent too many pictures on my Tweeter! I lost my link with family and friends. I crossed muddy swamps, beaches, landing grounds, fields, streets, hills, and I shall never surrender. No, just kidding, this was Winston Churchill famous speech “we will fight on the beaches”.
I finally reached the aid station where I met my family. They left after 20 minutes because my son had a rude day and wanted to get his lunch. Then I have my dinner, saw again the foot doctors. Same people! They moved from Vannes to Sarzeaux. Last year, I was at a loss, and wanted to give up. I had been sleeping for 2 hours on a military bed camp; then I was ready to finish. My mental needed this break. Today, I felt better and decided not to rest. Technically, this was not an option: many runners stopped there and the sleeping room was filled-up. But I remembered that the next aid station was at 15km ahead and provided an army tent with beds. I changed my clothes, took my poles, ready to brave the cold night. I forgot to mention that most of the runners are doing the half raid. The departure took place at Vannes, 24h after our start. So I was now caught up by these guys. The quiet aid station turned to become a big beehive. I left the station. Quickly, I was back on the trails, single tracks. The new comers were mostly impolite, impatient to overtake you, never gave back a thanks. I was tired and thought they were rude and did not deserve to be on a so beautiful place. Another big difference that should be mentioned is that a lot of these “short distance” runners did know how to make the void in a water bag. When they were running it felt like if they were some kind of human washing machine! And I even do not think about how bad it should be for their back.
Bretagne is a flat land. But not everywhere: this part is a succession of stairs. That is why I took my poles. The night was very beautiful, though I could hardly enjoy it. I stayed focus on one goal: the next aid station. The trails coast kept turning all the time, I passed by lovely small bays; the water was steady; I could enjoyed the sight of a serpent of light on the opposite side of the bay, made by runners forehead lights. Everything was quiet and restful. My mind did not have a break for 30 hours, and things were getting worse and worse. I began to have hallucinations. An awaking nightmare, I was getting nuts: I could not help keeping seeing non existing people, scene. I know they were all fake, but the pictures were so realistic that I got anxious. Chinese Dragons that turned out to be leafs and branches when I was in front of them. People standing in the dark on the border of the road. Freaky. The most strange was this house with a family who was finishing the dinner in the garden, watching the runners. Man, it could not be. It was almost midnight! I was convinced that it was not real, but I kept staring to it, and it did not disappear. It just stayed. So, how could it be some hallucination? Damned, yes, this was just some foliage… I understood that my mind needed some rest asap.
I arrived to the next aid station. It was awful. A lot of people, very noisy. I went to the tent. No army bed?! I asked to a volunteer. He explained me that the army was in Afghanistan with their supply. So there was no bed. F### the war. What a terrible news for me. I tried to sleep in the wet grass, making a pillow with my backpack and wrapped in my emergency blanket. I did not really sleep. 40 minutes later, I was soaked in the blanket. I decided to go ahead. My mind was rested and I did not have any hallucinations, even on Sunday after the race.
The sun rose up slowly, I was thinking only about the end of the race. I was not able to meet my forecasts; it was due to a burned-out at my job. I was disappointed but happy to know that I will make it one more time.
In the morning, I rang my wife and asked her to go to the finish line with my son. I arrived after 38 hours 53 minutes. I ran with my son the last 100 meters. Great memory. 49% of the runners were DNF. Two friends, Michèle and Christophe were on the starting line with me. They ran at a low speed of 8km/h but kept the pace. They finished in 28 hours and Michèle was the first woman. I was proud of them.
Here is another story, pretty more exciting and more accurate. The Greek historian Herodotus mentioned Pheidippides as an Athenian messenger who was sent to Sparta for asking military support during the battle of Marathon. He arrived in Sparta on the very next day. Spartans did not come but the Athenians won without their help. Frankly, I prefer this story: Pheidippides did not die and he ran on his way back to Athens!
