March 1st - 3rd, 2024
Before reading this report, know that Antoine Castagné put together a superb piece on the subject — to find out more: article in Le Parisien, video on YouTube, video on Dailymotion.
So I'm back in the Tunnel. I'd already been there in 2021, and now I sign up again to run 200 miles in the dark, underground, in less than 55h. Now, to be honest, the tunnel isn't exactly 1 mile long (1610 meters) but more like 1 mile "and some change", about 1680 meters. So the real distance is closer to 210 miles. With a small slope — count an average 1% grade — that adds up to about 5000 feet of climbing by the end.
Heads-up, this is not an ultra-trail, nor a "48h on a track" — it's... very special.
Scenery? Always the same one: the tunnel, save for a glimmer of light at each end. Turns? Well, it bends slightly left going up, slightly right coming down, overall it's straight. Monotony? Yeeeees!!! Refreshments? A table with energy bars and water, two or three other things, but don't expect a full English breakfast with scrambled eggs and bacon, not gonna happen. A rest area? Yes, of course, preferably outside the tunnel, in the rain. So, is this a thing for crazy people?
Yes.
Last year I took two big hits, two not-so-successful races: a DNF at Transpyrénéa and a counter-performance at Big Dog Backyard.
So in 2024 I decided to focus on what I know works, the good old recipes. No trail, only tarmac, only laps, only road — back to fundamentals.
I thought long and hard about "why did things go wrong?". There was the half-hearted training, for sure. But not only. Also a general lack of seriousness, of commitment. So this time, on the Tunnel, I go all in — I'm going to redeem myself, doing my best, whatever it takes!
My training is short on miles: only 135 miles in February, a little over 190 in January. I've done double that in the past. The scale reads 195 lb, a good 20 lb above what I weigh when "I am as fit and fast as I hope". But... it's not that bad. I'm so eager to get my revenge that it doesn't matter that much. What I nailed:
- spot-on fueling — a small ham wrap every 3 hours, ready to unwrap, candy, soda, energy drinks — I'm set;
- warm clothes, single outfit. Inside the tunnel the weather barely changes (!) but it's cold and damp. I bet on a very comfortable, warm outfit, as breathable as possible to handle the humidity. I won't change throughout the race. Same socks, same underwear, same everything. Just maybe a parka to slip on if I shiver with fatigue. Most of the thermal regulation will just be opening or closing the zippers of my various layers.
- foot prep — I noticed in training that the calluses had built up just right, so I trimmed them with care, but not too much, the day before the day before and the day before the race. Result -> at the end, not a single blister, not even the start of a hot spot. Nothing, baby feet.
- sleep, rest, calm, relaxation, before the race. Simple, but extremely effective.
- the plan: since I've done some backyards recently, I figure I can borrow a rhythm anchored on one hour. So each hour, I'll run 40 to 50 minutes, and walk the rest. That should — in theory — give well over 4 mph, and at that pace: I finish in time.
- objective: finish. 54h59m is OK. The icing on the cake would be to be the first to finish the tunnel TWICE. Five of us have already finished once, and are giving it another go this year. I just need to be the first of those five. Overall victory, if I can get it, great; if not, no big deal, I'm not making a state affair of it.
That's it, the plan, the prep, it all fits in there, nothing else.
Oh, and there's another French runner in the race, Ronan. We get to know each other, chat, a journalist also shows up, we do interviews about an hour before the start — this tunnel story is starting to get noticed! Especially since the BBC has actually sent several journalists, they've got 20-pound cameras and they film and the whole shebang.
Mark, the organizer, so thoughtful and nice with runners, has placed the toilets (the usual blue plastic block) right in the middle of the one and only — but enormous — puddle near the start. By stepping on one or two wobbly stones you can manage to get in without soaking your shoes, but it's never a sure thing. How sweet.
We start, as required, in a single file.
I take off at the back of the pack, walk for about a mile, then break into a run, a bit earlier than usual.
One runner opened the game at 8 mph, give or take. Well, given his build and the racket his feet make on the ground, I figure this tactic won't take him very far. The rest of the race will prove me right.
Ronan is moving well, I'm moving well, all is well, it's cool.
Truth is, two things make everything simpler compared to 2021:
- they've redone the tunnel lighting with LED lamps, slightly yellow, so the atmosphere is much brighter, less ghastly — you could almost feel comfortable in there.
- the bike path — because the tunnel is actually an old railway tunnel converted to a path for cyclists and walkers — is closed a bit further down. So the crowds are discouraged, and the tunnel is, de facto, almost reserved for us — especially on a Friday, a weekday.
Exceptionally favorable conditions, must make the most of them.
The organizer, to do us a favor and save us time — really, this Mark, his generosity and attentiveness is touching — has removed the display of how many laps have been completed at the tunnel entrance. And he's not wrong: most people were wasting way too much time staring at their mileage, perhaps naively thinking that if they looked at it long enough, it would grow. But no. So if we want to know our times, we have to go on the Internet with our phone and check the live tracking.
But you know... Internet... in the tunnel...
In the beginning I counted my laps, then I gave up. Too complicated for my little head. My theory: if I run 40 or 50 minutes per hour, and the rest of the time I walk and stop very little, in the end it'll make for a good pace. And it worked very well.
So now what to do? Move forward, that's what! And above all, avoid at all costs the 2021 hallucinations which, while they make for wonderful race reports, are very inefficient.
I'm sometimes asked about "techniques" for mental preparation... You want techniques? Here are some techniques. But beware, no miracles Out There.
More seriously:
- I've already said it but I insist, I bet on rest beforehand, the day before, and especially big sleep two nights before the race. So the day before, I went for a walk above the tunnel, in the English countryside. Great stroll, listening to the little birds and enjoying the greenery. Arrive rested. Foundational. Simple, basic, effective.
- routine, routine, routine — my pit stops were mechanical, I knew exactly how my bags were laid out: the yellow one with clothes and electronics, the green one with food. Keep it simple. No surprises.
- I focused on... the road. Not the tunnel. Just, the road. The 30 feet of tarmac in front of me. Don't look up, fix the small strip just in front of my feet. Sounds silly, but if you ignore what's happening above, the bottom of the tunnel is just a perfectly normal road. So I barely looked at the lights, the ceiling, all those zones of shadow that are so different inside the tunnel. But what's happening on the ground, really, it's all normal, nothing special, a road, a kind of gutter-curb on the left, the same on the right, frankly, routine. And I focused all my attention there, on nothing else. Bye bye hallucinations!
- in the same vein, I ran, as much as possible, in association. There are two big ways to manage your thoughts: in association, you're in the present moment. In dissociation, you wander, you daydream about other things. There's no real "better" posture. It depends on the moment. But if the goal is to fight off hallucinations, then without hesitation, bet everything on association. During the Transpy, in August I was very much in dissociation. Elsewhere. I think I mostly thought about my wife Valérie and not much about the Pyrenees. It was nice, I crossed the mountain shaking with love, but in the end, I tapped out, and my head was elsewhere. But in some cases dissociation is useful. For example, to fight boredom. But me, I don't get bored — racing is my thing, and as long as there's a little competition, no chance I lose the thread. So I was in the present moment, in my tunnel, not elsewhere. The only outside thoughts were "wait, am I hot and need to open my jacket, or am I cold and need to close it?". Only terrain, the real, things on the spot. Furthest horizon time-wise: the end of the tunnel, 10 or at most 20 minutes away. Here. Now. Period. The tunnel, nothing else.
There you go, all my secrets in 4 paragraphs. You'll notice that nowhere do you see "be super strong, fight the pain" or that sort of thing. Just practical stuff, simple, intellectual posture, and that's it. No need to chase crazy tricks when you can solve things easily. No need to suffer.
But let's get back to the race itself.
After the first night, in the early morning, we got a nice surprise. It's snowing! Climate warming or not (I'm no climate skeptic, but I have to admit, March 2nd 2024 in England, it was freezing cold — on average it's warm, but that day specifically, brrrr) all our gear, of course placed outside the tunnel, was covered in snow.
So when I dig through my bag... my hands are frozen, and I need an out-and-back inside the tunnel to warm up. Luckily I don't stop often. Most of the runners have moved their gear inside the tunnel. The organizer tolerates it. He's tough on the rules, but he's not a monster. I must be the last of the Mohicans to keep my bag outside, and then like the others I cave, and bring everything in.
And as expected, halfway through the race, it's a bit of a massacre, we've lost two-thirds of the participants. At 27h30 we should have covered half the distance. Officially 100 miles / 161 km, in practice about 104 miles based on the actual tunnel length. The idea being that it's impossible to do a "negative split", meaning to go faster on the second half than the first. And yes, it is impossible.
Because the second night is the heart of the trial. The first one, given we start at 3:30pm, passes on its own. But the second one... is another story. Since it's very hard to sleep (no dedicated spot...) everyone is in sleep deficit. And at lights-out, here you are with 125 miles in the legs, in pitch black, with the tunnel deserted. No walkers, nothing, just a small dozen competitors, in more or less advanced states of disrepair. I've read a few people who did the tunnel and stopped before that famous second night, saying "it's not that bad". But among those who finished, I've seen very few say the second night went down smoothly. It's hard, really.
I focused on one thing: keep the rhythm. Unlike 2021, where I'd told myself "you don't sleep", this time I told myself "if your rhythm drops too much, you sleep a little". And that's what I did. Rather than playing zombie, as soon as I felt I was drifting and walking too much -> bam, micro-nap.
I took five of them. 10 minutes, 15 minutes, and three times 5 minutes. In exchange, I was clearly faster than in 2021 — I always stayed in a state where I could jog if I had to. In 2021 I was afraid of not waking up. This time I just trusted my phone, lay down peacefully, at first near the tunnel entrance and then right in the middle, in the warmest spot. Top comfort.
On Sunday morning — about 40 hours into the race — I did an hour or two walking with David and Kevin, who would respectively finish first and third. David has an incredible engine, I think he's going to smash the course record. And then in the end no, he finishes easy, without pushing too hard apparently, and ends up just over the record in question. Kevin is worried about his third place but I reassure him, the ones behind him don't look very perky either...
Apart, perhaps, from the female leader, Agnieszka Kaminska, who is a real metronome. She doesn't weaken, and will climb pretty hard in the rankings.
As for me, a few hours before the end, I realize I can chase "under 48h" so I push myself a little to get the machine going. And in the end it'll be well under 47h.
I'm happy, I've improved my personal best by more than 4 hours, and I finish lucid, no hallucinations or anything. Notably, I'm the first to have finished the tunnel twice. Of the 5 starters who'd already finished once, 2 others will also finish, bringing the total of "double finishers" to 3.
I'll be back.