Interceltic Trail 2019

09 June, 2019 - Ruairí Long

The 2019 Interceltic Trail Race was held by the leafy Lake Guerledan, deep in Brittany. The race was in held as part of the Trail de Guerledan trail festival, with our team competing in the 26k version. Team Ireland consisted of three men and three women, with Laura Flynn as our very supportive team manager. Arriving in Nantes after an eventful, bumpy flight we piled into our van for the slow, congested drive out into the countryside. We were still a little confused about where exactly we were heading, making attempts to get into contact with Jean-Claude, our host. Upon our arrival at the ruined abbey which served as the venue for the finish, we got out for a short shakeout run before a meal with our gracious hosts at a lovely lakeside restaurant. The race was scheduled for 3pm the following day, so we retired to our beautiful accommodation in a renovated railway building next to a well maintained greenway. The next morning we got ourselves sorted out and were bused out to the start with the 1200 other runners taking part in the 26k.

The race started fast up the road. It was easy to get caught up in the buzz of the start, with music playing and pacing cars with cameramen in tow heading out in front of the pack. The race leaders took their places from the beginning, heading out hard. I did my best to relax, but still found myself clicking through the first couple of kilometers uphill quite fast. Tom and Killian were moving a little ahead of me, but I felt good heading into the first descent. The first descent was probably the highpoint of my race, consisting of some rooty and rocky switchback singletrack. I felt very much in control as we crossed the bridge to the first trail climb, which was steep and hot through a felled area.
From a brief study of the race profile, I knew that the course would largely flatten out after the hills of the beginning. Glancing at my watch as pace times appeared I felt fine. The next part of the race was mostly straightforward bits of road, trail and even a small beach. Although I hadn’t seen the others for a few minutes I felt they were only just ahead. As I got to Laura at around 7k, I refused the offered bottle, with little interest in water at that point. Perhaps this red flag escaped me, but within the next few minutes my decent start deteriorated. The course became flat and very runnable alongside the lake, with a small lane cut through a field of grass feeling very like a cross country course. It was hot with no tree cover and I seemed to be sweating much more than I usually would. I kept going as I had been doing, but increasingly felt I was fighting to maintain composure on a very easy bit of trail. Once we reentered the trees, I had slowed right down.

The next section is a blur of nausea, panting and cursing. I became increasingly frustrated as my body began to shut down. It was certainly a bonk in the most glorious fashion. At certain points I even felt the need to stop in order to breathe. Reflecting it can seem a little scary, but I was distracted by the desire to make it to the main aid station at 17k, where I hoped some respite was in store, especially water. Being passed by numerous similarly dressed middle aged French men didn’t help mentally as the trail was tight. Of course, it was also stunning, with ups and downs aplenty from the lapping waters of the increasingly inviting lakeside.

I jogged pitifully into the aid station, taking on precious water and with some encouragement from Laura a gel. I regained enough composure to begin to understand my body wasn’t ready for a fight, but rather could probably chug away to the finish. I somewhat began to settle in as the pace slowed and I noticed plenty of others struggling too. I focused on keeping going, walking climbs I felt I would usually fly up. Although I most certainly continued to feel poor, it was a little more controlled then it had been before. The trail was narrow and undulating, with no rest available in its constant small ups and downs. It was also rough with roots and rocks bringing runners to a standstill in the steeper parts.


I began to notice my body feeling ok as I passed some of the same middle-aged French men from earlier. Local support was great, with countless people shouting “Allez, Allez!” The last, steep climb seemed almost endless although it was perhaps only one kilometer in length. Keeping upright and steady was increasingly tough too. If the last section had been an IMRA race it would have been great fun. I crossed the line thankful to have pushed through what had seemed an endless low.

Although my own race was not what I wanted, we had some stand out results, leading to both men's and women's teams finishing on the podium.
A special mention must go to our incredible hosts, who were very supportive, helpful, understanding and generous. They have created a gem of an event which is very well organised and very friendly and open. To be recommended to all.