Day 30 - June 6th: The Hangover
Maubourget to Barran: 30.1 miles / 773 total
Christina, Ted and I all woke up this morning feeling like we were hung over. Christina had secured rooms in the only hotel in Marciac on a beautiful little square plaza that had medieval ambience and plenty of dining options. Turns out the village is home to the Marciac Jazz Festival, one of France’s biggest jazz festivals held every summer since 1978, and so it retains a year-round charm in anticipation of the annual event, reminiscent of Woodstock, NY or Dahlonega, GA. We decided to go first to a local bar on the Square for our post-run beer after we showered because of the wide variety. I went with a Guinness draft, my favorite, and Christina and Ted with a local Amber that they both loved. We debriefed the five days of learning over beers and synthesized key takeaways. Nobody better at this than Ted.
Afterwards, we headed across the square and walked over inlaid placards commemorating jazz music to Restaurant La Cabane which was Italian. The evening temperature was perfect for outdoor dining and we sat out looking onto the plaza with the sun setting and the pastel orange of the setting sun casting light on the multi-colored facades of the square buildings. Stylish French locals came and sat around us also enjoying the evening. We laughed at a woman who had big glasses, stylishly dressed and carrying some kind of satchel when we realized it was a mobile bed for the dog that was leading her as she didn’t want it to lay on the sidewalk. We thought of Jax laying in mud and not thinking anything of it! We all shared and inhaled a warm goat cheese salad together followed by all three of us diving into a delicious pasta carbonara which they served with a shot glass of raw egg yolk that we were supposed to pour onto the pasta. Christina poured hers while Ted and I donated ours to Jax who slurped it up gladly.
Our day ended later than usual as we had not finished our run until 6:15pm after our 3-course meal with the Trail Angels. My sleep has been getting more and more restless every night to the point where each day I wake up I feel more tired than the day before. This morning we all dragged ourselves into the breakfast room at 7 AM in order to execute Ted’s extraction from the front lines. It has been a wonderful five days together for both Christina and me with Ted. Christina dropped Ted off at the Pau airport where he headed off to Paris.
Some learnings and adjustments to plan. First, the trail is so rugged and circuitous to the direct route that it leads to more kilometers. As a result, I have fallen behind plan again, which has required Christina to come and pick me up and then drop me off in the morning where I left off. It doesn’t sound like a lot, 20 minutes to pick up but doubling that is 40 minutes and that’s a lot in addition to what both Ted and I noticed—after a day’s run, a car ride sets you back even further in recovery because of how stiff you get sitting in the car. Tonight I will refactor towns moving forward to account for the mileage so that I can run in at night and run out in the morning and save at least an hour a day.
Next is that the trail has been wet from the rain and morning condensation. As a result, my feet are suffering with blisters and cuts. Plan is that I will start taking the road which is the more direct route in the mornings to save my feet and then switch to the trails which offer shade in the afternoons from the heat. Jax will also have to wait until the afternoon to join me as the roads are tight.
Out on the road this morning on a cloudy, muggy day with 65-degree temp, I was struggling mightily. While I’m sure there is cumulative fatigue from the 30 days of running and the weight loss, I also feel the loss of great companionship. Nonetheless, I am on autopilot and just keep moving forward through rolling French hills of wheat, corn, vines, and small quaint villages. Of note in the villages, while they are old and seemingly beyond their glory days, there is still a pulse to most of them and in some, even a vibrant charm. I ran through numerous towns in the United States in Georgia, Nebraska, Kansas, Missouri, Wyoming and Nevada where the small towns were plagued by meth heads and old folk who didn’t have the choice to leave. Generally, they were nice people but I felt their resentment at being left behind and forgotten in dying towns. In speaking to the people in Europe, specifically Portugal, Spain, and France, I learned there are government programs that promote people moving to the villages such as buying homes for a euro or subsidies for young families to inject life and a future. I actually think it is working.
We passed through the small villages of Laveraet, Pouylebon, Montesquiou, and L’Isle-de-Noé. Montesquiou is rooted in medieval history, and L’Isle-de-Noé is historically linked to the noble de Noé family. We finished in the beautiful town of Barran after a workmanlike 48km. Barran is notable for its unique helical church tower—a rare architectural feature in France. Christina was parked in the center of town waiting for us. As it turned out, after getting lost on the trail and bushwhacking for an hour, I decided to just stay on the road in the afternoon and avoid risk. Mission accomplished with no setbacks.
We will make an early night and hopefully recharge for tomorrow.
As always, I greatly appreciate your support.
Cheers,
David.
P.s. Ted and I were thrilled to finish the run with the cheering of the local fans…
