Running in the mountains of France
Getting some miles in, French style...
One week and one day in France. I’m now 28 years old and more in love with this world than ever. Our trip to France has again, awoken the travel bug inside. The passion to explore unknown places, to meet those many unknown people and most importantly for me, connect with those many special people from the past.
I’m sitting in my friends house, over looking a valley, surrounded by the cliche red roofed houses. Winning. 15km to my right is St Heand, the place where my french connection began some 10 years ago. Everything here seems so familiar and homely. I’m lucky and thankful to be able to travel here, eat, play and chat with my friends. Running in the hills of St Heand and surrounding areas. Everything is almost perfect, then the icing on my french pastry! This time, the first time I have traveled with a partner. Emma. Emma has made this trip so much more special, more rich and filled with many more little things. Little bike rides, little kisses, little glasses of wine, little walks, little cheese shops, little awkward french english moments and a thousand other moments in between. It’s been perfect. It’s a world that I have loved for so long and people I have loved for so many years. Emma has connected in the same way I did all those years ago. It really is special to see and to have a girl like her in my world.
Ok, some of my runs :)
Running in France has been fun, a lot of fun! Day 2 I was straight out into the hills of St Heand, no watch, no maps, just my legs and a thirst for adventure, some trails and somewhere I hadn’t been. I certainly found all of those things. Trails started popping out from everywhere after I turned left away from the main town. Tractor tracks, logging roads and a cheeky stream with cold mountain water. I found wheat fields full of beautiful poppies, farmers on tractors plus most importantly no other runners on the trails. It was like a welcome back from the hills of St Heand to me. ‘Bonjour Brett, son temps de courir librement dans votre maison’.
Getting home after such a run I was welcomed by Fernand and Caty (my french parents) with a big good morning kiss, a view over looking their pool and a coffee. Day 2, winning again.
Two days later we headed down south in Mr Rapido. Mr Rapido is big, beautiful, everything you would wish for in a campervan. Insanely amazing! Everything you need plus your driving a truck. I was in heaven :)
Emma and I headed down south to capture a little culture. Drink some wine and of course include some fromage, Oui Oui. Our first stop was in the valley that looked up at the impressive Mount Ventoux. Next week I will tackle this beast. We stayed at a small little lavender farm in what seemed like an even smaller town, Clansayes. Emma and I ran through the tracks that zig zagged through the fields, through the truffle oaks and a couple of lavender fields. It was magic. It was a slow, it was peaceful and we were happy.
The next run was, until then the most gnarly run I had ever been on. Single (almost one legged) tracks, cliff faces and sheer slopes. A whole lot of fun! I even saw my first ever snake in the wild. As an Australian I was amused having seen my first ever wild snake in France! I crossed over ridges, ran down valleys and pumped up a few steep bits. The white, arid mountains of down south made it really special. It was wild. I have run across a few mountains but nothing like this. It awoke my trail fire and mountain man. I want more of this style of adventure. Forest trails are fun, meditative and beautiful, mountain trails are raw, powerful and adrenaline pumping. Different and both powerful in their own right.
The next day followed with the most ‘Gnarly’ run I have done. This was an experience that I’m sure words will not be able to capture, well my words anyway. I will try.
I left the lovely caravan park in Saint Remy du Provence (look it up on Google, amazing), and headed straight through town towards the ever present white rocky mountains. The day before I had noticed that there were sections for rock climbers and having no ropes, no idea I thought I would skip this section. Well, that was until I ran past this section half way up the hill. I turned a sharp right into the scrub, within a few seconds I was gone from the road and felt like I was in the middle of nowhere, but exactly where I needed to be. A few minutes later the trails started to thin, the rock steps started to appear and within no time at all I was running on the side of a rock face. This was cool.
I was rewarded quickly! No more path, just rock and small bushes (mainly holly). Then the coolest thing happened, on the slopes heading towards the peak I started to notice steel rings embedded in the rock. It took a few minutes but I clicked that they were for the rock climbers and their ropes. It was gnarly enough now! So I kept pumping along until I was on a ridge line with pointed rock, a 80m drop to the forest floor to my right and a 30m drop to my left and 20m ahead was a 6m tall rock face that presented me with a choice. Turn around a go back the way I came or tackle a bit of free climbing for 6meters, don’t fall and die and carry on. I remember thinking, ‘Shit, I didn’t tell Emma where I was going, I wonder how long it will take her to find me if I fall’. I wasn’t thinking in fear, just in a matter of fact kind of way. I laughed, then started to climb. The rock face had a fixed rope attached but I avoided using it as I wanted to get to the top on my own, I did use it towards the top but more or less I got their on my own. What a bloody good feeling! At the top I could see Saint Remy du provence, the green valleys towards the north and the grand Mount Ventoux. I was one happy boy!
The run turned into a really technical walk/climb from here to the next little peak. It continued to challenge and reward me, I was in the zone. Happy, focused but free. This was really SATORI.
Since my last run in Saint Remy du Provence I have had a couple of smaller, forest trail runs, town runs and a couple of rides with Emma. My legs were a bit ginger for a few days but my soul felt full. It was like the mountains of Saint Remy gave me a big hug and told me that everything would be ok come December and to keep going. It was the Earth saying to me me that I was doing ok.
It will all be ok, great I’m sure.
Brett xo
