Day 37 - June 14th: Catching Up
Lodève to Montpellier: 32 miles / Total: 980
Wowza—what a day yesterday! I woke up this morning feeling like I’d done a weekend warrior bootcamp for the first time. My whole body was sore. Not from mileage, but from yesterday’s bushwhacking, scrambling, and all the micro-movements on uneven terrain that tested my stabilizers. I was also dehydrated and underfed.
First priority: shower, brush teeth, elevate legs. Christina came back with two big meat empanadas, lemonade, and water. I forced it all down. An hour later we were at a forgettable Thai/Vietnamese spot for pad Thai, more water, and a beer. By 8:30 p.m., I was back at the hotel and passed out with a Buddha belly—only mildly thirsty. Thankfully, I slept like a rock. Maybe it was the air conditioning set to “arctic” or maybe I’ve just adapted to this level of fatigue. Either way, I’ll take it.
Quick note: if you need two beds in a European hotel, prepare yourself for two of the smallest twin beds imaginable. I barely fit at 5’9”.
A bright spot last night: a thoughtful email from Bill, the runner I met on the Voie Verte. He sent a list of resources for route planning across France. I continue to be amazed at how the universe brings the right people at the right time. Thanks Bill!
I woke up cotton-mouthed but functional and I went downstairs where I crushed the continental breakfast with cafe-au-lait, OJ, yogurt, 2 chocolate croissants, half a baguette loaded with butter and jelly and was out the door at 8:00 a.m. sharp—just in time for the start of a southern France heat wave and a long day on the road.
Unlike the previous stretch where I had flexibility, the next two days require precision. I need to reach Vauvert tomorrow, then we drive to the outskirts of Nice for a night, and the day after, I’ll start running back toward Arles to meet Monica, Laura, and Peter. We’ll run into Arles on Friday, take Saturday off, and then Sunday we all run Arles to Vauvert where we stopped. After that, Christina and I return to where we left off in Nice and keep moving east.
Today’s route was mostly direct—I couldn’t afford any wildcards after yesterday’s beatdown. I also grounded Jax. Too hot, too exposed, no shoulder, not safe.
I said goodbye to the idyllic little village of Lodève that was once a Roman town. The first few kilometers followed a river, but I soon hit the access road for the A75 highway. While the traffic noise was constant, I was able to make steady headway once I warmed up.
It’s funny how the body works: I felt exhausted early on, but then found rhythm. My knee (the one I hyperextended yesterday) started hurting. Then it stopped. I thought my shin was flaring up. Then it wasn’t. My back ached from the fall. Then that went away too. Phantom pains—or just the mind scanning for last know issue?
About 10 km out, I passed a teen hitchhiking and stopped to check in. She pointed to her companion—her mom—digging through her pack. They were on a scavenger-style adventure: they left their car in Montpellier, traveled back to Grenoble, and were now making their way to the car by foot, hitchhiking, and transit. I asked for an interview—they were happy to chat. Great energy.
Further down the line, I finally veered off the highway and turned east toward Montpellier. Red clay now dominated the valley floor, with vineyards stretching out on both sides—classic Languedoc wine country.
In Saint-André-de-Sangonis, a relaxed village surrounded by vineyards and known for its caves (wine cellars), I found an artisan pâtisserie across from the local church. Water refill, pastries, coffee. Much needed.
Still behind on calories. I’ve realized that fueling the furnace is getting harder—not just logistically but mentally. The morning routine is all sugar: baguette, butter, jam, croissants, OJ, coffee. Every break at a pâtisserie? Also sugar. So I did the unthinkable. Alex would be proud, John perhaps jealous: I went to McDonald’s in Gignac. The arches were swarming with locals. I ordered a Big Mac meal, inhaled it, and considered going back for more but decided that I needed to make time. It was both horrible and delicious. Afterwards, I knew it was the right move because I was still somewhat hungry and was able to run with no problem at all. I did not go with the recommended mayo with the fries and it’s the first time I have eaten at McD in decades. Might happen again.
The climb out of Gignac followed the A750 toward Saint-Paul-et-Valmalle, a small commune perched along a former Roman road between Béziers and Nîmes. I stopped at a small store for a Coke and water. By then, temps were in the 90s and climbing. Hydration was becoming an issue again.
From the pass, it was a long downhill coast into Montpellier, one of the great historical and cultural centers of southern France. Founded around the 10th century, it became famous for its university—especially its medical school, one of the oldest in the world still in operation. In the Middle Ages, Montpellier was a magnet for scholars, merchants, and travelers from across Europe and the Mediterranean.
I called Christina and we agreed to push past the hotel—which would’ve added 5 km—and instead meet in the city center so I could shave distance off tomorrow. We met at 5 p.m., 52 km into the day. That leaves me 39 km for tomorrow before we drive east.
Physically, all the warning lights that were flashing early in the day disappeared. But my weight has dropped to 159.5 lbs—down from 169.5. I’m now at the threshold. I remember from my run across America that this is the danger zone. The fight to keep weight on is real, and it only gets harder from here.
That said, we’re back on schedule. After falling behind on Day 13 with the shin issue, we’ve finally caught up on Day 37—arriving in Montpellier as originally planned.
It’s a great day!
I appreciate your support.
Cheers,
David
