BECOME THE
RUNNER YOU
WANT TO BE!
RUNNER YOU
WANT TO BE!
Marathon du Medoc
Running and red wine
– if I had to name two of the things that have
given me the most joy over the past few years,
they’d be somewhere near the top of my list. And
yes, I have to confess that, unlike most runners,
I do mix the two. Despite repeated vows not to, I
always seem to find myself drinking just a little
too much the night before a race. But drinking
during a marathon? I’d always thought this would
be a step too far… Until I heard about the
Marathon du Médoc in Bordeaux where this practice
is not only encouraged, but virtually compulsory.
Having already run 11 marathons, dressed as
everything from the slow-but-sure tortoise to the
Sugar Plum Fairy, when I read that almost
everyone does it in fancy dress I knew this was
one race I simply had to add to my running CV.
Even its fearsome reputation as ‘The World’s
Longest Marathon’ (more on this later) wasn’t
enough to put me off.
When word got out that I was entering this crazy-sounding race, I soon realised that I wasn’t alone in fancying a tipple on the trot. My husband Graham (who doesn’t even run), my aunt Rosie (who does, and has done eight marathons with me), my sister Loren (an ultra-marathon veteran living in South Africa) and my Canadian running buddy Bridget (plus husband Kent) all wanted to join me. Even my 68-year-old mum Leoné (who didn’t drink but had run two marathons previously) got caught up in the excitement and decided to do it, too.
Fond Memories
Having all secured a place – a miracle considering they only allow 8,500 participants – we set about training. My husband, sister and I took it far more seriously than the others, however, getting through at least a case or two of various French vintages in an attempt to properly prepare for the big day. And then, three months before the race, tragedy struck when my mum was run over by a car and killed while out training. Her death was an incredible shock and all the family flew to South Africa to comfort my dad and each other. My mum’s celebration (we never called it a funeral), which featured a 30-strong gospel choir, was a wonderful way to celebrate her life and the way she’d inspired us all to take up running. She’d been among the first to join the 1970s running boom and had become a familiar sight on the hills near our home as she went jogging in her mini-dress. At the ceremony, friends asked whether we’d still be doing the marathon and, after just a moment’s hesitation, I realised that there was no better way to honour my mum’s running legacy. So we took the decision to run Médoc in her memory.
“We took it far more seriously than the others, getting through at least a case or two of various French vintages in an attempt to properly prepare for the big day”
Fancy Meeting You Here
Driving through the quiet country lanes on race day, there was an almost tangible feeling of excitement in the car. We all had butterflies in our stomach (plus butterfly wings in the boot, ready to be donned at the start!) at the thought of what we were about to attempt. Could we really hope to visit 23 wine stops and five food stalls - and still manage to finish before the race’s 6:30 cut-off?
The car parked, Loren and I changed into our butterfly outfits. Our costume choice was a homage to my mum. Butterflies had been the theme of her celebration, where we’d decorated the garden with butterfly-shaped balloons and giant butterfly wings. Loren got a bit carried away and adorned herself with so many butterflies and flower garlands that she looked for all the world like a cheap cocktail. The others’ costumes were also insect inspired; Bridget and Kent came as ladybirds while my aunt donned a bee costume. The least colourful team member was my husband, who’s not a fan of fancy dress. Wearing black shorts and a grey-ish T-shirt with a few butterflies pinned to it, we derisively referred to him as a grub!
Geeing Up
Joining the throng at the start was like attending a Halloween party in broad daylight. I’ve never seen anything like it. The theme that year was cowboys and Indians so there was a sea of Stetsons and feather headdresses, but there was also every other conceivable outfit, from ostriches to Clockwork Orange droogs. After singing a few Country and Western songs the crowd headed off, shuffling a few hundred metres through Pauillac’s narrow streets before dashing off the road to the right. Puzzled, we veered right too and soon realised that we hadn’t joined a stampede for the loo but had inadvertently followed some canny locals who knew where the first wine stop was located. Dutifully we had a glass, before rejoining the race.
When word got out that I was entering this crazy-sounding race, I soon realised that I wasn’t alone in fancying a tipple on the trot. My husband Graham (who doesn’t even run), my aunt Rosie (who does, and has done eight marathons with me), my sister Loren (an ultra-marathon veteran living in South Africa) and my Canadian running buddy Bridget (plus husband Kent) all wanted to join me. Even my 68-year-old mum Leoné (who didn’t drink but had run two marathons previously) got caught up in the excitement and decided to do it, too.
Fond Memories
Having all secured a place – a miracle considering they only allow 8,500 participants – we set about training. My husband, sister and I took it far more seriously than the others, however, getting through at least a case or two of various French vintages in an attempt to properly prepare for the big day. And then, three months before the race, tragedy struck when my mum was run over by a car and killed while out training. Her death was an incredible shock and all the family flew to South Africa to comfort my dad and each other. My mum’s celebration (we never called it a funeral), which featured a 30-strong gospel choir, was a wonderful way to celebrate her life and the way she’d inspired us all to take up running. She’d been among the first to join the 1970s running boom and had become a familiar sight on the hills near our home as she went jogging in her mini-dress. At the ceremony, friends asked whether we’d still be doing the marathon and, after just a moment’s hesitation, I realised that there was no better way to honour my mum’s running legacy. So we took the decision to run Médoc in her memory.
“We took it far more seriously than the others, getting through at least a case or two of various French vintages in an attempt to properly prepare for the big day”
Fancy Meeting You Here
Driving through the quiet country lanes on race day, there was an almost tangible feeling of excitement in the car. We all had butterflies in our stomach (plus butterfly wings in the boot, ready to be donned at the start!) at the thought of what we were about to attempt. Could we really hope to visit 23 wine stops and five food stalls - and still manage to finish before the race’s 6:30 cut-off?
The car parked, Loren and I changed into our butterfly outfits. Our costume choice was a homage to my mum. Butterflies had been the theme of her celebration, where we’d decorated the garden with butterfly-shaped balloons and giant butterfly wings. Loren got a bit carried away and adorned herself with so many butterflies and flower garlands that she looked for all the world like a cheap cocktail. The others’ costumes were also insect inspired; Bridget and Kent came as ladybirds while my aunt donned a bee costume. The least colourful team member was my husband, who’s not a fan of fancy dress. Wearing black shorts and a grey-ish T-shirt with a few butterflies pinned to it, we derisively referred to him as a grub!
Geeing Up
Joining the throng at the start was like attending a Halloween party in broad daylight. I’ve never seen anything like it. The theme that year was cowboys and Indians so there was a sea of Stetsons and feather headdresses, but there was also every other conceivable outfit, from ostriches to Clockwork Orange droogs. After singing a few Country and Western songs the crowd headed off, shuffling a few hundred metres through Pauillac’s narrow streets before dashing off the road to the right. Puzzled, we veered right too and soon realised that we hadn’t joined a stampede for the loo but had inadvertently followed some canny locals who knew where the first wine stop was located. Dutifully we had a glass, before rejoining the race.
Vintage Performances
The throng soon thinned out and we settled into a good pace, stopping at every second estate for refreshment. The route read like a fine wine catalogue: Château Latour, Château Mouton Rothschild, Château Lafite Rothschild – all the famous names had thrown open their gates
and were serving samples from their cellars. But what the wine stops provided by way of liquid encouragement came at a price – Médoc isn’t called ‘The World’s Longest Marathon’ for nothing. With the majority of stops involving a detour, all but the few teetotallers among us ended up unwittingly running several additional kilometres. And those who imbibed at every estate? Well, their tipsy zig-zagging probably meant they’d run at least an ultra-marathon that day!
Heat, Hills and Road-hogs
On we trotted, passing row upon row of grape-laden vineyards and manicured estate lawns. At 23km my lack of training was beginning to show and I began to do the sensible thing - limit myself to visiting every third wine stop. The course was surprisingly hilly and, it being September, surprisingly hot. Another hazard was the wheeled floats advertising different regions in France (such as Cognac) that, propelled by kamikaze runners in a hurry to get to their next tasting session, threatened to mow us down. But they compensated for being road-hogs by dishing out miniature bottles of booze which, of course, this being Médoc, we drank.
Food or Finish?
Unlike other marathons, where most entrants are too focused on doing a personal best to talk, almost every runner we encountered took the time to share a friendly word. As someone who runs to chat, I was in my element. But amid the smiles and laughter, we shed a few tears for my mum, knowing that if there was one marathon in the world that she would’ve loved, this was it. We’d pinned posters to our backs saying we were running in her memory and many participants (even when they couldn’t speak much English) extended their sympathies, which was really touching.
As the race progressed, the heat and hills continued to take their toll – as did the wine – and I began to worry that we wouldn’t make the cut-off. What was worse was that the best food stalls were situated in the final 5km. What to do? Lose five minutes waiting for someone to painstakingly cut me some wafer-thin slices of ham or risk not getting a medal? The ham won. Likewise the fresh oysters. I lost several more minutes when, on tasting one, I was so impressed that I stopped to eat six (a feat far surpassed by my husband who, I later learned, somehow managed to slurp down a record 18).
“At 23km my lack of training was beginning to show and I began to do the sensible thing - limit myself to visiting every third wine stop”
Final Countdown
With 2km to go and the cut-off looming I became seriously concerned that we wouldn’t get a medal. However, the sight of the race sweepers (two men dressed as vicars carrying signs saying, ‘This is your final cut-off, stay ahead of us!’) scared our weary legs back into action and we picked up the pace, finally crossing the finish line in six hours and 17 minutes. Our entire team of insects had made it! While we may not have been awarded our bodyweight in wine as the male
and female winner had done, we were more than happy to be presented with a bottle of red, which we drank that night while toasting the memory of my mum.
As I sat on the quayside watching the firework display celebrating the end of the marathon, I came to the conclusion that the Marathon du Médoc truly is a celebration of everything I love about running. The fun, the fancy dress, the fabulous food, the camaraderie, and yes, the wine, all confirmed my belief that running shouldn’t be about the time you do, but about the time you have while doing it.
Lisa Jackson is the co-author, along with Susie Whalley, of Running Made Easy (Collins & Brown, £9.99). To order a copy at the reduced price of £7.99 (with free UK p&p) call 0870 7871613 and quote CH1227.
The throng soon thinned out and we settled into a good pace, stopping at every second estate for refreshment. The route read like a fine wine catalogue: Château Latour, Château Mouton Rothschild, Château Lafite Rothschild – all the famous names had thrown open their gates
and were serving samples from their cellars. But what the wine stops provided by way of liquid encouragement came at a price – Médoc isn’t called ‘The World’s Longest Marathon’ for nothing. With the majority of stops involving a detour, all but the few teetotallers among us ended up unwittingly running several additional kilometres. And those who imbibed at every estate? Well, their tipsy zig-zagging probably meant they’d run at least an ultra-marathon that day!
Heat, Hills and Road-hogs
On we trotted, passing row upon row of grape-laden vineyards and manicured estate lawns. At 23km my lack of training was beginning to show and I began to do the sensible thing - limit myself to visiting every third wine stop. The course was surprisingly hilly and, it being September, surprisingly hot. Another hazard was the wheeled floats advertising different regions in France (such as Cognac) that, propelled by kamikaze runners in a hurry to get to their next tasting session, threatened to mow us down. But they compensated for being road-hogs by dishing out miniature bottles of booze which, of course, this being Médoc, we drank.
Food or Finish?
Unlike other marathons, where most entrants are too focused on doing a personal best to talk, almost every runner we encountered took the time to share a friendly word. As someone who runs to chat, I was in my element. But amid the smiles and laughter, we shed a few tears for my mum, knowing that if there was one marathon in the world that she would’ve loved, this was it. We’d pinned posters to our backs saying we were running in her memory and many participants (even when they couldn’t speak much English) extended their sympathies, which was really touching.
As the race progressed, the heat and hills continued to take their toll – as did the wine – and I began to worry that we wouldn’t make the cut-off. What was worse was that the best food stalls were situated in the final 5km. What to do? Lose five minutes waiting for someone to painstakingly cut me some wafer-thin slices of ham or risk not getting a medal? The ham won. Likewise the fresh oysters. I lost several more minutes when, on tasting one, I was so impressed that I stopped to eat six (a feat far surpassed by my husband who, I later learned, somehow managed to slurp down a record 18).
“At 23km my lack of training was beginning to show and I began to do the sensible thing - limit myself to visiting every third wine stop”
Final Countdown
With 2km to go and the cut-off looming I became seriously concerned that we wouldn’t get a medal. However, the sight of the race sweepers (two men dressed as vicars carrying signs saying, ‘This is your final cut-off, stay ahead of us!’) scared our weary legs back into action and we picked up the pace, finally crossing the finish line in six hours and 17 minutes. Our entire team of insects had made it! While we may not have been awarded our bodyweight in wine as the male
and female winner had done, we were more than happy to be presented with a bottle of red, which we drank that night while toasting the memory of my mum.
As I sat on the quayside watching the firework display celebrating the end of the marathon, I came to the conclusion that the Marathon du Médoc truly is a celebration of everything I love about running. The fun, the fancy dress, the fabulous food, the camaraderie, and yes, the wine, all confirmed my belief that running shouldn’t be about the time you do, but about the time you have while doing it.
Lisa Jackson is the co-author, along with Susie Whalley, of Running Made Easy (Collins & Brown, £9.99). To order a copy at the reduced price of £7.99 (with free UK p&p) call 0870 7871613 and quote CH1227.
Words
by Lisa Jackson
History of the
Marathon du Medoc
This now legendary race was created in 1984 by a group of local marathon enthusiasts and has now firmly established itself on the list of must-do marathons such as London, New York, Paris and Berlin. The race philosophy centres on four key principles: health, sport, conviviality and fun (hence the fancy dress and food and wine tastings en route), and the organisers aim to encourage people of all shapes, sizes and ages to enjoy long-distance running. In 2009, the race’s 25th anniversary, the theme was Circus, but this changes yearly.
Marathon du Medoc
This now legendary race was created in 1984 by a group of local marathon enthusiasts and has now firmly established itself on the list of must-do marathons such as London, New York, Paris and Berlin. The race philosophy centres on four key principles: health, sport, conviviality and fun (hence the fancy dress and food and wine tastings en route), and the organisers aim to encourage people of all shapes, sizes and ages to enjoy long-distance running. In 2009, the race’s 25th anniversary, the theme was Circus, but this changes yearly.
See yourself running the Marathon du
Médoc?
The marathon includes a host of activities that shouldn’t be missed, and they change every year. The 2009 race featured a pre-race pasta party in a château, free wine tastings at local estates and a post-race ball and firework display on the riverside. On the Sunday after the race, the organisers also laid on an organised walk through the Médoc vineyards followed by lunch in a marquee along with the option of a bicycle tour of Saint-Estèphe’s vineyards, which included tastings and an optional lunch.
- To
enter the Marathon du Médoc in September 2010,
register online at www.marathonduMédoc.com. Entries
open in January 2010. There are only 8,500 places,
so register early to avoid disappointment.
• Entry costs €65 for EU citizens and €80 for other nationals.
• Remember that to race in France you have to get a medical certificate from your doctor stating that you’re fit enough to participate. Some GPs issue this for free, others charge a fee.
• Flights to Bordeaux from London (it takes under two hours) cost about £120. As there is little public transport in this region, hiring a car is essential. Pauillac is an 80-minute drive from Bordeaux.
• Reasonably priced accommodation can be problem – as can the fact that few locals speak English – so book this well in advance.
• Getting to the start is easy – because the race is so small, there is plenty of parking in Pauillac’s town centre, so you can just park, get into costume in your car, and amble to the start line.
• The terrain looks flat but is surprisingly hilly, though thankfully these are gentle hills rather than steep inclines. Beware of the gravel that covers 24% of the course, however: it can be slippery and frequently finds its way into your trainers.
The marathon includes a host of activities that shouldn’t be missed, and they change every year. The 2009 race featured a pre-race pasta party in a château, free wine tastings at local estates and a post-race ball and firework display on the riverside. On the Sunday after the race, the organisers also laid on an organised walk through the Médoc vineyards followed by lunch in a marquee along with the option of a bicycle tour of Saint-Estèphe’s vineyards, which included tastings and an optional lunch.