"Rest".
You may recall that last year Kelly ran Le Circuit des 25 Bosses by himself in the pouring rain, nearly resulting in us sending out a search party. Well Liz had mentioned the possibility of us doing it this year, but starting at the adjacent car park rather than running all the way there and back from our Gite (and we were staying much closer this year than last!) 15km is a distance I am comfortable with, and at the top end of Liz's distance plan for this year.
I know I can do 15km in around 90 minutes, but considering the terrain I doubled that and set expectations to about 3 hours, and we decided to set off between 9 and 10 in the morning so we got most of the running out of the way before the heat of midday, and so we had the afternoon to do other things. Andy and Kelly decided to join us on the run, which was reassuring as Kelly had run the course before and both of them had watches where they could upload the route for that extra bit of navigation just in case it came to it - the circuit is marked with regular red indicators on rocks and trees, but it helps to be prepared.
The morning broke and it was time for the pre-run rituals - coffee and a banana, pack my trail pack with nutrition, water, and a few extra layers just in case, and we head to the car park at Croix Saint Jerome. We set off in high spirits, and before too long we are running up and down rocky undulations and climbing the first proper hill, giving us a taste of what was to come. Breaking above the treeline for the first time treated us to an amazing view, although it was very hazy with lots of moisture hanging in the humid air so we weren't afforded the spectacular views which I'm told are possible on a clearer day. Before too long we found ourselves at Le monument de la Résistance à Noisy sur Ecole - a very large Cross of Lorraine erected in 1946 to commemorate the efforts of the French Resistance during World War 2. A searchlight was located on this spot to direct an allied drop of supplies for the resistance which was parachuted into a sandy clearing and hidden away in the Cave of Rochebelle.
After posing for a few photos we were on our way again, climbing subsequent hills and sometimes getting sight of the monument as a great indicator of how far we had come. At one stage I was in the lead of the group and was picking my way down a rocky track when a French gentleman stops and speaks to us. Now I'll be the first to admit my french is not great, so just about managed to communicate that we were English and after a bit of mental effort on both sides we managed a conversation - "Are you sticking to the trails?" he asked, and I answer "oui" thinking he was making sure we didn't stray off the path. It turns out that he wanted to know if we were running the trail and when we said yes he started talking with enthusiasm about it at it transpired that he helps to maintain the circuit, was 70 years old, and runs in the forest every day and that running must be good for you because he was still here.
We talk for a while longer about climbing (he is/was also a climber) and the history of the area, before he turns around and says come with me, I'll show you more. We set off and he is surprisingly nimble, keeping up with him is hard work at times - not due so much to his speed, but his sure-footedness on the terrain and his ability to read it, flowing effortlessly with nature (a lesson for all of us there I feel). As we run, walk and wait we establish that he is a part of Les Amis de la Forêt de Fontainebleau and along with his retired friends maintains the red route markers as well as performing hard work to reduce the impact of people on the terrain, particularly erosion control.
Along the way each time we crested a hill he would point out the hills and climbing areas visible from that hill, as well as stories of the history and geology of the area, and how it is quite unique in having been created from a relatively small sand bar under the sea many many years ago, which turned into stone at a very cold temperature which created the hard sandstone so typical of the region, and the reason we were there. This area feels very special, very unique, and very beautiful, and to have a local guide who was so knowledgeable give up his time to run with us was amazing.
As we continued he showed us the many and varied bivouac of the forest - some are dangerous due to cracks in the rock above and some are safe and you can go inside and see well crafted stone fireplaces, beds, shelves, and the like. Those that are dangerous are labelled with good reason, as along the way we also saw where a roof has very clearly fallen. Some of these bivouac, such as that at Rocher du Potala, are very well known and easy to see and others are hidden where you would only find these if you knew where to look, so we were very privileged to have been shown them, and to have had some of the rock engravings pointed out to us - some being a lot older than others.
Eventually it was time for him to leave us - he had received a phone call a while back which appeared to go something along the lines of "Hello, I found some English people to run with. I'll be home soon" and we snuck a short break in. My watch had been beeping every kilometre as we travelled along, and every time he had said "time for tea?" - at first I thought he was under the impression it was an alarm, but as we continued I realised this was his sense of humour playing on English stereotypes and right now a cup of tea would have been, well, spiffing! I'd already shared out my emergency fun size packs of haribo, and eaten two energy bars, and I was flagging.
Before too long my water ran out too, and I realised just how badly I had underestimated the challenge of this run. It had definitely moved from the territory of Type 1 Fun and into Type 2 Fun, and was in danger of becoming Type 3 Fun. I was determined to finish it though, and even to run where I could. I led a section for a bit again, and it really is a challenge following the tags to navigate your way through the forest; as soon as you catch sight of a marker you have to interpret it to understand the direction you should take and have your eyes up for the next one. It really is a breadcrumb trail and when trying to move at speed you have to be constantly scanning and thinking and your route takes you over, around and sometimes through rocks and trees - if you go very far at all without seeing one you NEED to backtrack if you don't want to end up very lost!
The last few hills were particularly hard work, and with a mouthful of Kelly's water I had a caffeine mocha gel which gave me a brief burst of go - but the uphills were all definitely walking now as were most of the downhills due to technical terrain and some of the flats as it was just hard work. Such was my state by this point I was getting a little bit emotional, and I am grateful to Liz's hugs and motivation for keeping me going. At one point we had to mantle over a rock on the top of a hill, far more akin to bouldering than running, and it took me a while to psyche myself up to do it then I needed a lie down.
Eventually though we were on the sandy main path back to the car park and from somewhere my legs moved me faster, getting me to the gate in time to take a photo of the rest of the group finishing. Utterly exhausted but so so glad to have finished we made our way back to the gite where a much needed drink of water was consumed, with the second glass going straight over my head. What had been somewhat optimistically forecast as a 3 hour run had taken us 6 hours, albeit with diversions and a guided tour of the secrets of the forest thrown in for good measure.
Would I do it again? Absolutely! Will I prepare better, take more food and more water next time? Definitely! Will I think I can do it in 3 hours> No way!
That was a great rest day, even if not really a traditional definition of rest. It was nothing that some beer, bread and cheese, a hot shower, and wine and a barbecue couldn't shift. Coming up next: a return to climbing for the last two days.
