Fontainebleau Diary 2018 - Part 3: A Tale of 25 Bosses

So, day 3. A rest day.

"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.

On Why I Run

While running a pretty tough but rewarding 15km loop recently I got thinking about why I run. I was never a sporty type at school, and would more than often be found in the last group to be picked for football teams, staying in front of the ball in Rugby to avoid having to take part, and falling in ditches in an ultimately failed attempt to get out of cross country.  When we got to sixth form and could do off site sports I chose Golf in the summer and Squash in the winter, mainly because they were a fair distance away and we went via McDonalds.

Looking back on it if we had some coaching in P.E. I may have gotten into it better, but no one told me how to run.  That may seem a stupid statement to someone to whom running comes naturally, but there was absolute zero guidance on body position, stride length, cadence, or any of the other things runners obsess over. It was simply a case of those who had natural talent joined the teams, those who were of a driven personality type pushed themselves, those who enjoyed sport had fun, and the rest of us resented both the unguided physical exertion and the mocking and humiliation we attracted.

Anyway, that was then and this is now. The first run of my adult life was on January 1st, 2014 as a result of seeing Kelly D try and get as many people out for a New Year run as possible. I had recently separated from my wife and was trying to work out who I was again - nothing was off the cards.  I was reconnecting with people I knew 10 years previous, this was happening, so I gave it a go.

I ran 2.19km in 16:07, with an average pace of 7:21/km.  It was awful - the ground underfoot was slippery mud and I was totally unprepared for it, walking in places because when I tried to run my feet went from under me. I ran three more times that month, getting up to 6:52/km average pace, and then stopped.  I can’t recall why, but apparently I restarted in June 2015 with a 4.68km run in 29:18 and managed to run once or twice a month with an aim to get a 5km in under 30 minutes which I achieved in October. Through 2016 I was very lax again and it wasn’t until I moved back to Sheffield in December 2016 that I got into it properly with Hillsborough parkrun just down the road and the encouragement of Liz. The rest is history, and you can read more about it right here.

Back to the original question: Why do I run?

It goes without saying that exercise is good for you, and I knew I needed to do more of it.  Over the years my weight had crept up to over 13st and my waist to 34”, I remembered having a 30” waist and losing weight had the added benefit of making climbing (which I had also got back in to) easier.  Exercise was only part of the game, I also had to adjust what I ate. The weight slowly came off and I got to 11 stone and a 30” waist (weight has crept up a bit since but waist hasn’t so I assume it’s gobe to muscle somewhere).  My general fitness and stamina are also much higher which I’m really happy with, and has had additional benefits for swimming as well as the aforementioned climbing.

But this isn’t the only reason. Running is physically hard, and walking could have delivered similar benefits with less wear on the body, though it would have required more time.  Running also gave me something to measure myself against, especially with parkrun.  I’m not an ambitious type when it comes to comparing myself to other people, but I do like to track my own progress and see improvements.  Seeing my times come down quickly at parkrun was a real boost, and the community of Strava made it easy to track how I was doing when I went on runs by myself, and soon I was adding in more runs whenever I could - including the work running club. I still surprise myself with things like signing up to the Amsterdam Half Marathon though.

Running is also a brilliant way to get out in to the countryside, or the urban landscape you otherwise wouldn’t explore.  I’ve run many KMs along the rivers and canals around Sheffield, I’ve entered races which have taken me up dramatic hills in the Peak District, and I am lucky enough to live near some beautiful spots like Rivelin Valley, Loxley Valley, Upper Don Valley and with a bit of effort the Peak District itself. The run which inspired this post had a fairly tough climb taking up most of the first half, but it rewards you with stunning views in every direction across the peaks, even when you turn back and face the city it doesn’t dominate the landscape, instead nestling in the hills for which Sheffield is famous.  I was taken with just how lucky I am to live near here and was very grateful for it.

But (and well done if you are still with me, I know I am quite a verbose writer - largely because this is as much for me as it is for you.  Hopefully this section will help make this clear) there is more to it than that. Something much more important.

You see, running is good for the head.

Well, for my head anyway - I know everyone is different.

I said earlier that I was trying to work out who I was again, and one of the things I have discovered is I am a lot less mentally resilient than I thought I was.  The precise details are for another discussion, but I am prone to prolonged periods of introspection and self doubt which manifest in anxiety and despair, and I needed to get a grip on this as it was leading to destructive behaviours.  I was drinking too much, and I wasn’t looking after myself.

Running at parkrun gave me a regular commitment which meant I was more likely to do it rather than find reasons not to.  I’ve discovered that I am far more likely to do something if I have told other people I am going to do it as I’m far more inclined to let myself down than I am others, and running as a social activity meant I also got the support and encouragement of my friends - people who are massively important to me and to whom I owe a lot of gratitude. Being able to return that by running with people and offering then encouragement and support is equally as rewarding.

It turns out it goes further than this though, and that’s why the run which inspired this post was entitled ‘Resetting mind and body’. Getting out on to the roads and trails turns out to have a really valuable benefit which I had not foreseen.  It takes a while to get there, but after several kilometres you hit ‘the zone’ where the running has become second nature, you are moving easily and efficiently without having to think too much about form, function or the effort of making your body move; all of these things are occupying your brain to some extent but not fully, and I reach a state where I am able to attain clarity of thought.  Maybe it is the fact that your heart rate is already elevated and your breathing intense, but things which maybe cause anxiety and confusion when sat on the sofa become easy to think about logically and analytically with objective analysis. When I find myself on the sofa fretting and sinking into a spiral of negative thoughts, getting out on a run will at the very least distract me, and hopefully allow me to figure out what is causing these thoughts in the first place and how to address them. I can only assume this state is not dissimilar to the state people seek to acheive through meditation, maybe one day I shall try and find out.

So yeah. I run because it makes me feel good, and feeling good is important.

Fontainebleau Diary 2017 - Day 4

Today is a rest day, so I wasn't planning on have anything much to write about as I wasn't planning on doing very much.  When I got up I found Kelly D preparing for a 32km run taking in Le Circuit des 25 bosses which cut through a number of areas we have climbed in.  Liz emerged soon after and we agreed to go on a 5km run, so plotted a route and set off after we had finished our drinks.

We started out ok, but the second crossroads appeared several hundred meters sooner than expected and rather than do the sensible thing and turn left there anyway I decided to carry on. We soon went past the point where the crossroads should have been, so decided to take a trail on our left.  Before too long this started to go up and get quite rocky, and before we knew it we were on top of a rocky ridge and stumbled across what appeared to be a folly

This was all very scenic, and apparently on a good day you can see the Eiffel Tower from up here (it wasn't that clear) but slightly more alarmingly there was a shallow pit with the scorched carcass of a wild boar in it.  A sacrifice? Someone trying to roast a boar and discovering it was much harder than expected? Who knows, but it was a little spooky.

We continued along the ridge path, knowing that on either side of us there was a good trail we could pick up and in front of us there was a path too, so we were on the look out for a way down.  Eventually it felt like we had hit the end of the outcrop and with no obvious way down we were picking our way down freshly turned earth where boar had obviously been foraging for truffles, and ducking and diving between rocks and trees before we eventually found a track we knew and headed back to the gite.  When we got home Ceri had cooked pancakes which were much appreciated.

Over breakfast I researched our journey and discovered that we had stumbled across La Tour de la Vierge à Arbonne-la-Forêt (Google Maps location) which was apparently built in 1862, but does not mention sacrifices of boar...  Further reading suggests it is a religious shrine considered to be the site of the conversion of a poet.



The rest of the day involved much relaxation, Andy and Kelly G both went for runs and came back decidedly damper than we did as the rain is really coming down now - it's a good job this is a rest day.  Really hoping it blows over and we can get another day outside tomorrow, otherwise I may have to bite the bullet and go for a long run. There was almost an interruption to the relaxation when Kelly D didn't return from his epic run when expected but just as we were convening the search party and pulling together a plan to cover his route he appeared around the corner and we could stand down, instead plying him with coffee and cake.