A Perfect Run: St-Hilaire to Mortain in Normandy.

On chemin vert at 7 km into the race. Photo by Jonathan Bostock.

The plane tree alley in Mortain.
(photo by A.Anichkin taken on a different day)

Today's run from St-Hilaire-du-Harcouët to Mortain with Francesca and a crowd of about 600-700 runners (correction: 374 runners finished the race): 15.75 km - 1 hour 36 min. on my pedometer, -2ºC in the morning, +9ºC at the finish, brilliant sunshine and no wind. I came 270th, but who cares. when it's a perfect running day.

It was a proper race organised by the Normandy athletic federation, the athletic clubs of St-Hilaire-de-Harcourt and Mortain, two medieval towns covered in glory during the battle of Normandy in 1944.

The full 15.75 km run started at the mairie in St-Hilaire and finished at Mortain stade on top of the mountain where Mortain is perched on. After a streak through St-Hilaire, the run went onto a chemin vert - a green lane, the gravel-paved leisure path laid over the old railway line where no motor vehicles are allowed. One disadvantage is that gravel never lets you have a good grip but the big plus is that, as a former railroad, it has long gentle rises and equally long gentle down-hill stretches, which allows you to go at full throttle or to enjoy running at your own pace. I did the latter, keeping company with Francesca, who was running a duo — a relay run, with the course split into two segments roughly 7.5 km each for two runners competing as a team.

At the end of the course there is a horrible catch: just before entering Mortain you go off the chemin vert onto the main road where marshals flag the cars to go slow. But Mortain sits on a high mountain towering over the vast valley leading up onto the Mortain hill. And you have — right at the end of a gruelling course — to struggle all the way up that road. The French were out in force shouting Courage! and Allez-allez! as we huffed and puffed our way up, slowing down to hardly faster than a walk.

What makes it worthwhile, apart from the exhilarating feeling of accomplishment, is the spectacular view over the valley and the majestic plane-tree alley just as you enter the town on the serpentine road from St.-Hilaire.

I was very impressed with the logistics and organisation. The mayor of St-Hilaire came to wave off the runners at the start, and the mayor of Mortain came to see the finish. We had free box-fulls of safety pins today for dossards (race numbers) and electronic chips to mark the time, and lots and lots of marshals. And on the road up the mountain the only car that sped past me irritatedly was an English-reg Range Rover, French drivers were all patient and dead slow. And a great fete atmosphere at the end. The crowds were huge.

Update: full results are available here.

And here's a photo by Francesca from last year's race.

The Birthday Run.

Chaulieu St Christophe, along the run.

The Birthday Run through the snow with Strelka and Leroy: 10.4 km - 64.20 min, -6ºC, harsh North-West on open stretches.

It's my birthday today and I couldn't resist the temptation of celebrating it with a good run, even though it's a grim winter day.

'You're Russian, you should be used to cold', I keep hearing ad nauseam. 

No, we, Russians, we're used to well-heated and insulated homes, warm winter clothes, good water-proof non-slip footwear, soft fur shapkas and heavy-duty gloves or mittens. 

It's the English, with their rattling windows, thin doors and drafts, they're the true spartans, who'd rather bear cold than make life cold-proof.

It's been snowing since the morning, prickly light powdery snow that doesn't melt but twirls in the air, gets into your eyes and under the collar, and builds up snow drifts in minutes. The roads were covered in soft snow, which wasn't packed yet and not slippery at all, the sky was dark and grey. The white of the snow made everything light and eery, but strangely pleasant. 

In the woods, we saw a great big hare in his light winter coat. The dogs gave him a chase but soon gave up in the deep snow.

And there was an added bonus of the French driving slowly and courteously. 

If you run on a snowy day, take special care, remember that snow muffles sounds and the hood or the flaps of your hat make it hard to hear approaching cars. One car drove right up behind without me hearing it. The driver honked gently and I let him pass waving in acknowledgement.

Priorité Pieton

9.5 km - 56.20 min, 9695 steps – cool, pleasant and calm.


At a fork where I turn left a small car with an elderly couple was approaching from the right. I was in their way and slowed down to let them pass, but the car stopped and the driver waved to me to carry on. I waved back with a smile and ran on. That's something unusual, in fact it may signal a big change.
  
From January this year new traffic rules are in force in France. One serious innovation is that pedestrians – pietons – now have priority when crossing roads. Before the change it was up to the driver whether to stop or not. Where there are no traffic lights, you had to wait at a zebra crossing for the car to stop and let you pass, the driver wasn't obliged to do that. Now they must, like in Britain. 


The difference is not just about road safety – last year in France nearly 4,000 people died in traffic accidents, while the latest figure for the UK is around 2,700. The change is also psychological, it's a democratic advance in the sense that it puts a restraint on the 'I am big and you are small, I can do whatever I like and there is nothing you can do about it' mentality.  


The new priority rule also means that people on foot may cross anywhere, even on the busiest road, if there isn't a crossing within 50 metres, and cars must stop. You bet.


I can see the change in towns already, but on the country roads I'd rather err on the side of caution.


Image: French governmental department

Vita breaks her record

23 Nov 2008
4 km - 27,45 min

It's a cold and windy Sunday with prickly rain and gusty North-West. My daughter has been nagging me to go for a run all week, but I didn't feel fully recovered from my cold and wanted to build up running slowly. Today we go, putting on thermal shirts and windbreakers with hoods.

It's not that it is difficult to run in the rain, it's not hearing approaching cars that is the problem. With a hood on and rain gear rustling and crackling when rain and wind smash into you, you can hardly hear anything. So we rely on the dogs to alert us. Over the years I trained the two Goldens to weer off on the verge when a car approaches. The adopted English Setter quickly learned to do it too.

We never stop - it's just to cold to do anything, but run as fast as we can. We get to the village and turn back. By the time we stop by the gates of the house we're dripping wet, all four of us. I rub the dogs with towels and as we go through stretching on the verandah I check the time - wow, Vita has broken her record by nearly a minute.