Wings For Life 2016 in Rouen

It's amazing how a city as beautiful as Rouen can host such a disappointingly depressing route.

I had been looking forward so much to the Wings For Life 2016 edition, this year in Rouen, France. My training was going well, so I was hoping to have a great run and maybe even beat my best performance of 2014 in Ypres, when I ran for 28.3 km until the Catcher car reached me. But various factors worked against me on the day.

To begin with, it was so hot. The first few kilometres were uphill inside the less attractive parts of the city, then a sharp downhill and further twists and turns in nondescript residential areas. It was important to stay hydrated given the high temperature, so we were looking forward to the first feeding and hydration station at 5 km. Except that there was nothing of the sort. Neither was there any at the 6 km mark...

We were already considerably thirsty when we reached the first measly watering station somewhere between the 7th and the 8th kilometre. You could see it from afar as a commotion had developed around the small couple of tables that were supposed to serve thousands of thirsty runners in a hurry. So how did the efficient organisers go about supplying water to said thousands of runners? Instead of providing small plastic bottles for runners to pick up and drink on the run, they employed helpers to fill small plastic cups from huge 2 litre bottles. The poor volunteers were hopelessly outnumbered and simply couldn't cope. The flimsy cups were falling over or being tipped over by frantic runners desperate to pick up a cup and keep going. What a chaos. I grabbed a plastic cup half filled with water, gulped it down and ran on, still thirsty.

The water situation never improved. This was a major fault of the Rouen Wings For Life 2016. Everyone knew from a week ahead that it was going to be hot and that 6000 participants would need to drink a lot of water, but the amount supplied was so inadequate. At 12 or 13 km we ran along the main quay of the river Seine - one of the more attractive parts of the course - in front of generally amused spectators having a drink at a table. I remember thinking that if I grabbed a bottle of water from one of these tables, its owner wouldn't be able to do anything about it and I would obtain some desperately needed rehydration.

The same thought occurred to me later when we passed some buses with large quantities water bottles inside. Can't figure out for whom these were intended. Too bad I didn't take one, gorge myself in it and pass on to other runners.

From the 14th kilometre or so onwards the route ran along the river Seine. I had been looking forward to some picturesque scenery, the river on the left and forests or peaceful agricultural areas on the right. It was nothing of the sort. We only had occasional glimpses of the river while running through industrial storages, factories and such stuff. A strong headwind just had to blow up at that point. This, together with the heat, the lack of water and my much too fast first hour (effortless, it had seemed at the time) added up at 21 to 22 km into a sudden urge to slow down to a walk. It happens sometimes, unfortunately. Maybe I gave in too easily to the urge. Maybe I should have slowed down to a jog and pressed on, but it's easy to say now. I was tired and I was only interested in reaching the next water station.

I did resume running and as the 26 km mark approached we heard the cacophony of the catcher car coming up from behind. I increased the pace, determined to pass at least the 26 km point, and when the car reached me I had sprinted up to about 26.3 km.

Oh well. Hopefully, next time I'll do better. Up until now my Wings For Life performances are looking disconcertingly like a steady decline:

2014 in Ypres - 28.3 km, nursing a hamstring injury, not knowing if I could even run at all, I started at a very careful pace, which was probably the main reason why I had a fantastic run. The other reason was the weather, which was simply, absolutely, perfect. And a totally flat route.

2015 in Porto - 27.5 km, running into an Atlantic storm on an undulating route.

2016 in Rouen - 26.3 km.

2017? Who knows. Still looking forward to it and to, just maybe, more favourable conditions. Although my best performance may well be already in the past... on an injured hamstring.

Wings for Life 2015, Porto

Porto is the second largest city of Portugal. It lies at the mouth of the Douro river that pours into the Atlantic Ocean. It's famous for giving the world the alcoholic drink known as port, made from grapes grown in the Douro valley and fermented and aged in cellars at the river bank close to the coast.

For some reason I chose this city when I registered for my second Wings for Life run, many months ago. It may have been due to the fact that a flight to Porto was available from Brussels at a low cost. I'm not really sure why. I was just a bit concerned that, since Portugal lies quite close to the Mediterranean, a long distance race in May might turn out to be too hot for comfort.

I needn't have worried one bit about this. I should have known that, being at the edge of the Atlantic Ocean, Portugal is the place where the humid oceanic air hits the European mainland, there to precipitate as rainfall. I should have worried, instead, of the possibility of rain on my big day in Porto.

The forecast said rain from 10 days ahead, and it wasn't wrong. We gathered in the Placa Galica after 11 in the morning wearing all sorts of plastic covers, waited to hand over our bag of clothes, and gathered behind the starting banner. As is my custom, I sat down on the ground amid a crowd of standing runners waiting for the start, hugging myself and trying to occupy as small a surface area as possible to avoid getting cold or wet.

Off we went! I forgot all about the rain the moment we began to run. My only concern was to hit the right pace: 4 minutes 52 seconds per kilometre, which I later realised was 3 seconds per kilometre too fast for my target. I kept very close to this pace, then we started the downhill section of the run. This is where the kilometre splits became quite fast as we approached the coast.

Then we hit the coast. And the Atlantic Ocean hit back. A strong south south westerly wind was blowing in from the sea, straight into our faces. The pace slowed down to 5 minutes per kilometre, and it never picked up after that.

Pity. It was a beautiful route. We set off close to the city centre, turned left, in front of "my" hotel, right and left again along a long road towards the coast. We entered the industrial district and then the coast road. Two days later I discovered this to be a spectacular route - during the run I was only concerned with maintaining the pace, also by sheltering behind other runners.

We followed the coast road back into the mouth of the river Douro, approaching the popular wharf (the Ribeira) close to the landmark Luis I bridge. This was at about 19 km, and by this stage I had given up on checking the time splits. They were consistently slower than my target pace and I thought, why stress myself? Looking at the watch was only causing discouragement, so I concentrated on catching up rivals and going as far as possible before being caught by the Catcher car.

We crossed the bridge towards the Gaia side of the river and kept going along the river bank, again approaching the Atlantic coast. The route profile on the event website had mentioned a sharp uphill at 21 km. I braced myself for this, but it never arrived! Finally, at about 24 km there was a hill of sorts, rather steep in fact, but it was over after a couple of minutes or so.

25 km.

Straight into a fierce wind from the Atlantic. We had already heard the cacophony of the Catcher car from the other side of the river. The rate of approach of this car relative to my pace was 4 kph, but the moment you hear it, even from afar, you think, I'm doomed. I was tired and the wind made it much worse.

26 km.

By this stage it was difficult even to keep on running. Last year in Ypres I was caught at 28.3 km, and the target this year was to beat that distance. Now, I didn't care and I just wanted to be caught and to stop.

27 km.

A final effort and I would actually beat my target! Then I heard the cacophony coming up from behind, and none too soon.

The worst part of this event, and something I hope will be improved in future, is getting back to base at the end of the effort. They have shuttle buses taking runners back from stations placed at intervals of 5 km: at 15 km, 20 km, 25 km and so on. It was bound to happen that I would be "caught" exactly in the middle between two stations. The walk straight into the storm towards the 30 km mark lasted for most of eternity. I barely managed to stop the last bus coming back from 30k. Inside the bus, a caring soul took pity on me and handed me an unused reflective sheet to cover myself during the trip back.

My official result was 27.45 km, quite high up in the general standings in actual fact, but worse than my first Wings for Life in Ypres.

For various reasons. Three weeks earlier I had run a full marathon, from which I had probably not recovered sufficiently. The wind did not help at all, and I probably started too fast. Looking back at my best running performances in the past, quite often they happen when I start at an easy pace. To make matters worse, I helped myself to too hearty a breakfast. Bacon, eggs, sausage, the works.

Ah yes, I almost forgot. I'm yet another year older than I was in Ypres.

Having said all this, Porto was a great experience. I'm more than ever determined now to do all the other Wings for Life locations, including India, Peru, Melbourne, Taiwan, Florida and Niagara Falls. By the current situation, this project will take me up to the age of 86. By then I will be happy even if I don't achieve 28.3 km as I did in 2014 in Ypres...

The Wings for Life World Run - 4 May 2014 in Ypres, Belgium

On 4 May 2014, a new concept for running competition was born to the world. Instead of runners competing to reach a finishing line in the shortest time possible, they were to run as far as they could before being overtaken by a "catcher car" going at a predetermined speed. Half an hour after the beginning of the run, the car would leave the starting line at a slow pace and accelerate gradually but constantly until it overtakes all participants. The winner of the event is the last participant to be "caught".

At the same instant, in about 36 other locations spread out over six continents, another identical event is taking place, except that the route is different, and in many cases so is the time of day and the ambient conditions. But all 36 locations are linked as one, and the overall winner is the very last person who's still running in all of them.

The event was named 'Wings for Life World Run', and the idea was (also) to collect funds for research into a cure for spinal cord injury.

I liked the concept the moment I learned about it. I had just (for a change) given up on building up to a marathon. I was not in the mood to run all those long distances. This event, on the other hand, allows participants of all types of ability to take part, whatever their endurance. The Wings for Life website has a calculator that gives you the time and distance you would be running until you're caught, according to running pace. For me this resulted in 25 to 30 kilometres - 2h15 to 2h30 - just about as much as I was fit to go at my current level of fitness.

One of the 40 locations was in Belgium, Ypres to be precise. A one and a half hours' drive is close enough for me. Ypres is a gem of a town where I like to go, so I signed up.

A few days later, I strained my hamstring... Nine days before the event it was practically healed and I went for a final long run. Bad idea. The following day, at day minus 8, I could hardly walk. The situation didn't improve very much throughout the following week, so I thought I would have to forget the Wings for Life World Run. The day before the race I was still unsure if was able to run for 1 kilometre, let alone 30.

But I had paid to take part, it was the very first edition, I could give up at any point and my participation would still be valid, so why not go for it and see how it goes?

On Sunday 4 May, the lovely town of Ypres in western Belgium woke up to a day of absolutely perfect weather, one of those days which I like to describe as "without a temperature". The atmosphere was festive. The setting at the starting line couldn't be more impressive: a beautiful memorial with the names of hundreds of thousands of fallen World War I soldiers.

I set off slowly, treading very carefully to avoid upsetting my jittery hamstring. I hadn't run for the last 8 days. I didn't even know if I was fit to run. In fact, in my mind's eye I was still injured. Except that, to my huge surprise, the injury didn't bother me at all and I could maintain a steady pace of just under 5 minutes per kilometre - just as if I was doing a marathon.

The injury turned out to be a blessing in disguise. It forced me to avoid running completely for one week before the competition, so I was completely rested on the big day. It forced me to avoid the usual mistake of starting too fast. I ran at a calm but steady pace, on completely flat roads in the pleasant countryside that 100 years ago had been turned into hell on earth by warmongering world leaders. We kept going from one village to another, each lined with cheering spectators, the kilometre markers going by and my legs working like a dream.

At 28 km I was still feeling strong and confident that I would reach 30 km within 2h30... so imagine my disappointment a couple of minutes later when a number of motorcycles and a loud hailer from behind heralded the arrival of the catcher car. I had been so close to the 30 km milestone.

What a fantastic run. I later found that I'd been caught at 28.33 km, in 2105th position out of 34,000 participants world wide. The overall winner, Lemawork Ketema (surprise, surprise, an Ethiopian), who had run in Donautal in Austria, was caught at 78.58 km!

Wings for Life World Run, you've got me hooked. I've done the first event. Now, following the spirit of this competition, I hope to do all editions as long as my legs can carry me. Who knows, I could aim to do the world tour. Having started at 51, I would complete a round trip of all 36 locations spread over six continents at the age of 86.

Now that's an interesting target. No harm in dreaming...