Grand Raid des Pyrénées – Ultra Challenging, Ultra Rewarding

Ross Hendry. Photos by Pyro. / 26.09.2012

There was a bit of self imposed peer pressure involved in my entry to the GRP ... if Pyro can do it, then so can I. A dangerous way to go about things I grant you, but it was certainly one way to motivate myself to move up in the distance stakes. From half marathons to an ultra seemed sensible at the time.

I trained sensibly: weekly targets, scheduled time off for recovery, and different styles of training rather than the simple A to B that I had always relied on. I set myself a pre-race goal of a 50km run to be completed before the end of July and I made it. As such I felt nervous but not excessively so as I arrived in Vielle Aure.

Briefing

One of my greatest fears was the weather as I am a fair-haired Scot, so the idea of thirty-plus degree heat was not one that filled me with joy. As the half dozen English speakers gathered round for our briefing we were informed that the weather was not going to be so good: cloudy, a little under twenty celsius and with a high likelihood of rain in the night. I think the sense of relief from those of us used to training in worse than that was quite palpable.

At the briefing were a trio of Irish lads who had been inspired to try the GRP by an article from SleepMonster’s own Carrick “Pyro” Armer. The original idea had come from a fourth member of the team who had failed to turn up at the event. I can only hope that Paddy No Show is getting the first round of drinks in for Donogh, Dylan and Mark when they return home, though I hear that he completed a triathlon on race day.

Following the briefing we left, we packed, we set our alarms and we tried to sleep.

To The Restaurant Merlans

I am not used to being up and dressed at 5am, let alone being amongst a crowd of 800 racers in the central square of a small, French village. But there I was, frantically comparing the size of my rucksack with others (I had too much, naturally) and wondering if I really should have invested in a pair of trekking poles like 99% of the crowd.

All the worrying is pointless, however, and any nerves dispersed as soon as the hooter sounded and we left. It is a great rush to be part of such a mass start. That’s an emotional rush, as the only ones running at that point were those intending to take a place on podium. For a lot of us, it was a case of walking quickly to warm up the muscles, safe in the knowledge that narrow paths at the start would cause tailbacks.

It’s worth mentioning that this was not a silent start, but one in which the streets were lined with locals cheering and clapping. This was to be a staple of the race, especially in the early stages. Cow bells were rung, cheery slogans were shouted and encouragement was the order of the day. It may just have been my mind playing tricks, but I’m sure some of the supporters moved around with us on the course. They all have my heartfelt thanks, as we all know just how motivating a smile and a cheer can be.

See All Stories On This Race