First Annual Camp RATatouille:
In the Pyrenees of France, Spain, and Andorra
by Kevin Kunkel
The term "epic" gets thrown around often by cyclists and triathletes alike. This summer in Tri-DC, Kyle Yost, creator of the SavageMan Triathlon, pontificated on how "epic" his Diabolical Double in Western Maryland and West Virginia is. I can personally attest that it's an "epic" ride by any measure, be it blood, sweat, pain, or lactic acid accumulation... take your pick! But how about taking that single ride and going "epic" for a week, or even longer? The concept of going "epic" is to overreach successfully. What is overreaching, you may ask? Dave Scott, arguably the greatest Ironman of all time, believes there is great utility in overreaching; that is, successfully training, while fatigued, to build greater mental and physical toughness for the challenge that lies ahead in your upcoming Ironman race. Scott also contends that there is a fine line between overreaching and overtraining. It's important for the Type-As who are so drawn to our sport to recognize that line and not cross it. How do we do that? We include a week or more of significant training in all three disciplines that stresses our bodies to new levels of exhaustion and fatigue, only to develop new levels of strength and mental toughness. The aim is to stay within the three training parameters that dictate success for an endurance athlete, which are: progression, overload, and recovery. To do this we must go into this week well-rested and ensure that we fully recover afterward, to allow our bodies to build back stronger than before our "epic week."
The first people to put this moniker of "epic" into practice were Gordo Byrn, famed co-author of Going Long, one of the most influential texts about Ironman racing, and Scott Molina, the winner of the 1988 Ironman World Championship. These two set up the idea of a week of "epic" training to prepare the body both mentally and physically for the demands of not just completing, but racing an Ironman. They have formulated this into what is known as "Epic Camp." Byrn and Molina have successfully held Epic Camps all over the world, from Kona, Hawaii, to the Dolomites of Italy, from Arthur's Pass in New Zealand, to the Pyrenees of France. The backbone of their Epic Camps in Europe is a small company, based out of Luscan, a little village nestled in the middle of the French Pyrenees. The company, aptly named Pyrenees Multisport (PM), is run by two British ex-pats, Ian and Julie Wright. Very accomplished triathletes and cyclists in their own right, they have decided to make their life and passion the business of organizing triathlon training holidays in one of the most scenic and challenging places on Earth.
I was originally planning to attend Epic Camp France this past summer; however, due to the recent global economic crisis, their numbers were insufficient to hold the camp. So I turned directly to PM to help me plan this week. They more then lived up to my expectations.
What follows is what happens when a small group of Reston Area Triathletes (RATS) takes on an epic week of training in one of the most "epic" places of them all, the Pyrenees Mountains of France, Spain, and Andorra. We experienced most of each day in a haze of exhaustion and hunger. I hope you'll find the following chronology interesting, enlightening, and most of all, inspiring, maybe enough so that you will tackle this or similar week for yourself. To preface, we climbed many of the same Cols that have defined countless Tours and Vueltas over the years. The goal is to show you the anguish and the fun of preparing oneself adequately for the rigors of racing all out, all day, as is the case in Ironman. To make it even more competitive and interesting, PM has a King of the Mountain (KOM) competition. Each day, one of the many climbs is determined as the KOM point. The first over gets 10 points and each person following gets one less point than the previous person. There is a chalkboard on the wall back in Luscan where the KOM points are tallied daily, and where the greatest of all time are permanently ensconced.
Additionally, I have taken the liberty of nicknaming the four who took on the challenge of this week, and documenting something about their essence and the role they played during the week. The characters/campers:
- Matias Palavecino, "the Pro," is a member of the Snapple Lyte Water team, and, although relatively new to triathlon, has taken the region by storm. He has won numerous local and national races, and is the one who named the camp. He wanted to capture the Club name and France all at once. What better way then to name it after a peasant dish from Southern France that was recently a blockbuster animated feature, starring what else? A RAT!
- Nate Miller, "the Roadie," is a former Division I runner from Stanford and Villanova who was thoroughly burned out and decided he was going to give cycling a go. In less than two years, he made his way through the USA Cycling ranks to become a Cat. 3 racer. He came to the camp purely for the cycling — what else?
- Dave Cascio, "the Legend." It would be hard for anyone involved in triathlon in the mid-Atlantic over the last 20 years to not know of Dave Casco. He has been involved in triathlon since the sport's inception. He is in the top 3 in virtually every race he enters, despite the fact he is now 47. He has raced Kona 6 times and has numerous sub-10-hour Ironmans to his credit. He has even competed in the Race Across America (RAAM).
- Yours truly, Kevin Kunkel, "the Visionary." I'm the guy who simply did the leg work to make the camp possible. I worked with PM to make a sadistic week of pleasure and pain. I also used my used car salesman skills and gift for gab to rope these guys into the camp. My claim to fame is that I love going "epic" (which should be clear by how many times I've used the word). The longer the day, the better I do. This camp was made for me.
Day 1: Arrival at Pyrenees Multisport in Luscan, France
This day seemed to last for three days. Since Nate and I missed our direct flight to Geneva Thursday night, we had ended up flying to Frankfurt and taking 5 trains — over 12 hours and two nights — to catch up to Matias and Dave, who were coming from Washington Friday evening. Ian, the owner of PM, picked us up at the train station and the airport respectively in Toulouse, which is just 100km north of the base camp in Luscan.
Bike Session (15:00) PM called this one the little local Hautaget Loop. It turned out to be a beautiful, rolling 48 km loop with two small hills a little tougher than Taylorstown back in Loudon County. In Tour de France parlance, they would be Category 4 climbs. It shouldn't have been so bad, but I was struggling off the back, which think was a result of barely sleeping for two days. I was a little concerned, but I figured Ian liked to scare us gung-ho folks. His idea of taking five guys around the loop, averaging well over 40km/hr, was his idea of saying, "you have no idea what you're in for this week!"
Swim Session (17:00 – 18:00) – This cool, clear swim came in the middle of a pretty hard bike ride. Not to mention that at the start, it was about 90 degrees and very dry. By the time I got out, a thunderstorm with its associated winds was brewing quite nicely. I worked really hard to lead the group back the last 15K to the farm house in Luscan.
Brick Run – According to the PM "road book" plan, this was to be a "short, steady run off the bike." It became a little more than that. We had just raced back to the farmhouse on our bikes in time to escape the pending storm. On the run, we weren't so lucky, which made us push the pace to avoid the ever-increasing rainfall. We started off on a beautiful mix of roads and trails for 6.5km, which was clearly marked, thanks to PM. The last 3km, at least for me, turned into a good, steady tempo, in trying to keep pace with Matias and Dave. Since for "Iron Camp," it was a light day we figured we might as well test each other right out of the box. Nate fell off the pace, due to some concerns with his knee, but he didn't care. The run was just to test his legs — he was really here for the cycling anyway. My thought was, since we were at "epic" training, I might as well hit the run hard too. All in all, the day went quite well.
Day 2: Trial by Fire "Port de Bales"
Swim Session (07:30 – 08:30) – Lake Swim, Aventignan. This time I did nearly three laps of the lake (2700m). The lake was nice and tranquil. The village where the lake was located had a cheese festival all week, and they celebrated with fireworks over the lake the night before. Luckily for us, there was very little leftover debris in the water!
Bike Session (10:30 – 16:00) – The intent was to head over Port De Balés (1755m), the Col de Peyresourde (1569m), and the Col de Portillon (1293m) into Spain, a 122km loop in all. These three cols are featured in the Tour de France in most years. I was a little anxious going into the ride, since Ian prefaced that he believes that Port de Balés is the toughest climb in the Pyrenees — and he should know. He lives here and takes crazy people like us on crazy rides week after week, nearly all year long. The climb was unlike anything I have ever experienced. I never questioned whether I could do it, but I found myself doing things I've never done before. For example, I have never had to get out of the saddle to climb in my lowest gear, which I did. Granted, I spent the week with a 12/25 cassette on the back. That was probably not the smartest move I've ever made. Most pros ride the Pyrenees with that gearing, but I'm certainly no pro. Another thing I've never experienced — as I climbed, I found myself climbing alone with the cacophonous clang of cowbells from the mountainside, while I literally ascended into a cloud. Yes, it was cold for August, but I didn't feel it until we stopped at the top for a picture; the descent was another story. One of my favorite sayings is "descending is what makes climbing fun." I say that because I'm a far better descender than a climber. This time I followed Ian's lead. He knew the route, and his skills are second to none. I felt completely comfortable staying a foot off his back wheel at 70+km/hr. Once at the bottom, we made the right to ascend the Col de Peyresourde. This is a classic and beautiful climb that is often featured in the tour. Once again, Matias went off the front, and Cascio and I climbed virtually together; Nate was had problems with his rear derailleur. As I got about 1km from the top, I looked up and saw Matias stopped near the summit. When I got there, I realized he had a bad puncture, and his tire was quickly on its way out.
We decided to descend toward Luchon, get some lunch, and discuss the last climb of the day. This descent was one of the best ever! I took several 180-degree hairpin switchbacks with good camber (I was lucky there were no cars). I must have taken those turns at nearly 50km/hr. I managed to get up to 80km coming down. How do I know? I was caught in a radar speed trap! At the cafe in the ski town of Lushon, we decided that Matias' patched tire might not make it over the Col de Portillon, so we decide to ride the last 30km home. What I didn't know at the time was that we were going to turn this into a 30km time trial, with each of us taking 1km pulls at the front. It was classic teamwork. We managed to hold 40km+/hr all the way back. So, essentially we made up for a lack of quantity with lots of quality. I really enjoyed this workout. Another first on this ride — when I looked at my post-race HR profile, I found that my zone chart read like the mountains and valleys we had just conquered. I had really high spikes in Zone 1 and 4 — clearly 1 for the long descents and 4 for the climbs. This was the exact opposite of a normal ride.
Brick Run – I was a little worried heading off into the run — I don't normally run well with a full stomach. I decided I'd FINALLY take it easy and simply do the 10km loop from Luscan. It was beautiful single-track through pastures. As I looked around, I saw fountains and chateaus from the 11th century; just breathtaking.
Day 3: Au Revoir France, Ola Spain... ouch!
Swim Session (07:30 – 08:30) – Lake Swim, Aventignan. Once again, I swam with Matias and Cascio for a bit. I saw Cascio start his third lap as I was 200 meters from the end of my second. He managed to catch me right as I finished my half loop. Then, back for another English breakfast before a monster bike ride.
Bike Session (10:30 – 17:00) – We head out for the start of the "Tri Country Tour" over the Port de la Bonaigua (2072m), which was in the Vuelta 2008. But first we had to hit the Portillion, which, at the summit, took us into Spain. Everyone was all smiles at the top, even after a rather tough 9K climb with grades averaging 10% and sometimes exceeding 14%. We still managed to time trial from Luscan to the base, which was just dumb, but hey, it was "epic!" I took off first this time, following Lewis, Ian and Julie's son, the 17 year old cyclist extraordinaire. I was trying to get on his wheel for the descent just like I did his dad the day before, but the problem was, he weighs about 1/2 as much and thus doesn't brake nearly as aggressively. About 1km down into Spain (which happens to have far better roads than France), I was "lulled" into some very aggressive descending on very fast roads. At about the third or fourth right-hand turn, I went in way too hot and crashed. I didn't want to hit the guard rail, because my bike would be destroyed, so I braked so hard that I flipped over the handlebars and landed on my butt, hitting my chin on the ground in the process. Miraculously, I was no worse for the wear, besides a few scrapes, a ripped jersey, and a torn vest. I did happen to land on my bad wrist that I had broken just three weeks before, also on a Monday. I guess I'm really starting to hate Mondays more than for the usual reasons. After we descended to a beautiful village, Ian cleaned me up. We meandered down the river valley, yelling at rafters, "Hola!" We then made our way to the King of Spain's favorite ski resort. I don't know if I've ever seen a prettier place. This led us to the Pla D'Beret, which has been featured in many mountaintop finishes in both the Tour and Vuelta. This climb was everything I had hoped for in this trip. It has been featured in so many magazines and shows that I was trying to take it all in. How, you may ask? How about by taking pictures on a 9% grade with a HR of 160. Not too easy! At the top, there was a long plateau where Matias and I took a picture with some of the local wildlife. I really hit this climb hard, and finished second to Matias, which came back to hurt me later in the KOM competition, as Cascio rode away form me on the third and last climb, the Port de la Bonaigua. This was billed as a fairly easy 6K climb, but it was more like 8K with 20 switchbacks. We crested at 2100+m, and then had a 60km descent. You read that right: 60km!
Run Session (18:30) – When we finally got to the kayaking village of Sort, we had a 5K prediction run. This is to make the KOM competition more geared to triathletes. You guess your time, and the person who finishes closest to their predicted time gets KOM points. But wait, that's not all — to make it hard, the fastest get KOM points as well. Racing a prediction run is what everyone wants to do after two category 1 climbs and one Hors Categorie (HC) climb, isn't it! I was bonking near the end of the ride, so I downed a one-liter bottle of chocolate milk — not a good idea if you are going to try and run a descent 5K along a beautiful class-3-rapid river (where the Spanish Kayaking team practice for the Olympics). I predicted a very modest 25:00 5K, because I usually knock out eight-minute miles like a metronome. I watched from afar as Matias and Dave went for 19:00 and 21:00 5Ks, respectively. Nuts, if you ask me! The funny thing is that we all came in very early. There were points to be had for the winner and the person closest to his prediction. Matias won on both counts, and Dave and I countered each other, as I was only 3 minutes ahead of my prediction, while he was 3:30 ahead of his. Again, Nate opted out — he's here for the cycling. We finished our day with a typical Spanish dinner of roast rabbit at 9 p.m. Yes, they eat late here. You would too, if you had a huge lunch, followed by a three-hour siesta. All in all, I was a little sore, but counted myself very lucky. The accident could have put me in the hospital, or worse. Instead, I was still having the time of my life.
Day 4: Hello Andorra and Do We Climb Forever?
Bike Session (08:30 – 17:00) This was the most fun day I have ever had on a bicycle. We started out from Sort heading straight up an 18K climb on the Port de Canto (1725m). There were breathtaking views as we ascended and looked down on the valley and town below. The dry area and scenery reminded me a lot of Southern California, where I'm from, and the San Gabriel Mountains. We regrouped at the crest, a ride that took us well over an hour. Then, the fun began, as we descended to continue toward the Principality of Andorra. Finally, Matias gave me a run for the most aggressive descender. We had fun trading the lead on the way down. I was only slightly shell-shocked from the day before. The turns here were unlike anything I have experienced in the mid-Atlantic. It was very common to have more than a 180-degree hairpin turn at a 10-12% grade. That meant if you didn't brake, you could go into turns at 45+ mph! The key is to always look well ahead of where you are and where you want to go. As soon as you look at an obstacle or the side of the road, or a guardrail, guess what? That's where you are!
We regrouped at the bottom, had a Spanish egg and toast, and started on the 15K flat that would lead us to an unbelievable 40K climb to the highest paved road in the Pyrenees, on the Port d'Envalira (2408m), which was featured in the Tour de France this year. As you begin the ascent, you head into the Principality of Andorra. It's a European tax haven, so you can find ample tax-free cigarette and liquor stores. Beyond that, there isn't much to it, unless of course you are talking bout the natural beauty. We headed all the way across Andorra. The entire population lives in a canyon with a winding river that runs through it. Once you get past this area, the road starts to kick up in earnest as you make your way out of the traffic. And yes, there was a bit, coming into the border patrol area. The four of us were dodging in and out of traffic and hitting the numerous roundabouts quite aggressively. As we left the population center, the road turned up to a slight 3-6% that went on for nearly 30miles! It took well over two hours to make this climb. About halfway up, there is a divide in the road so that big trucks don't have to go to the top; they enter a tunnel. I mistakenly headed down this road. After a couple of hundred meters, I recognized my mistake. I had to climb a dirt embankment on all fours with my bike on my back to get back on the right road. I felt like Lance in the 2003 Tour, when he had to go off-road after Bloke crashed right in front of him. I managed to get righted, and I proceeded to alter between sitting in the 39/25 gear and standing in the 39/19. This managed to get me up most of the climb at around 8-10 mph. Not bad, considering my legs were starting to get weathered. Oddly enough, I felt like I was getting faster and stronger over the course of this week. On this climb Ian and PM did a spectacular job of hop-skipping all over the mountain to get us cola, water, or whatever else we needed. It was as if we had our own team captain providing us the goods all day.
This was the KOM climb for the day, and I'm proud to say that I was third to the top, which means I still held second to Matias (the mad dog). This nickname was a well-earned, which will become evident over the course of this article. When we reached the top, it was time to take some of the most beautiful pictures you'll ever see. We were very high and the temperature went from 33 degrees (Celsius) in Andorra to 19 degrees at the summit. The descent was one for the ages. My wife wouldn't have liked what I was doing one bit — so don't tell her! We had to pass cars on the inside that were stopped in traffic. We must have passed 2,000 cars in the first 10km of the descent. As we neared the bottom and regrouped, we said we would take it easy for the last 20km into our night stop in Terascon, France. That didn't happen at all! Nate, our resident "roadie," decided to hit the massive sprints off the front, so Matias and I were obliged to respond. We bridged up to the point that we had to pass a bus. Nate yelled at me, "go go go!" So I did my best Mark Cavendish impersonation and passed the bus in about 100m. We had a blast and passed tons of cars and motorcycles. Once we made it into Terascon, Matias, Dave, and I, the running fools, headed out on a 30-minute run, after we had already biked well over 160km. Once back, we made our way out of the hotel to the river below, and iced our legs a good 10 minutes in the frigid water. Good recovery! We finished the day with a nice four-course meal at a French outdoor bistro. Life doesn't get any better than that. This will go down in my memory as one of the most fun days I've ever had on a bike, and we hadn't even made it to the Queen stage of the week, designated for Thursday, two days later.
Day 5: Challenges and Welcome Back to France
Swim Session (08:30 – 09:30) After a very traditional French breakfast in the lobby of the hotel, we managed to ride our bikes about 2km to Lake Mercus. A very cold swim welcomed us that morning. It couldn't have been warmer than 65 degrees. This was actually a welcome change for this time of the year, and luckily for me I had brought my wetsuit. Poor Matias had only brought a swimsuit, so I let it borrow my swimskin. He gets cold easily, so he only managed a 500m loop. The lake is used for water skiing and jumping, so we used the buoys and ramps as turn indicators. I managed to do one big lap that was probably about 1500m.
Bike Session (09:30 – 16:00) – After the brisk swim, we had to make a quick turnover for our ride, which that day would only have one 18km climb. Boy, weren't we lucky! In all honesty, it was pretty much a recovery day. The first four days built upon each other, each tougher than the last. The fifth day, we would make one decent climb in the middle of our ride through rolling countryside and sleepy French villages. It was a welcome change. We headed down the valley to the city of Foix. After passing a medieval castle, we started the lone climb of the Col des Marrous (990m), on the way to the Col de Portel (1432m), as ridden in the Tour de France in 2008. The Col des Marrous had about a 20km lead-up. I decided to be bold since this was the KOM climb of the day, and I went off the front with Lewis. That was a mistake because we didn't exactly know the way! We managed a 1km lead by the time we reached the bottom of the climb but gave it away, because neither of us new the correct turn to take to make the approach. So we were all in one bunch as we started the climb. We pretty much stayed together for the first 5km. I saw Ian in the Sag ahead, and he told us that that was where the climb started. I thought, "What the heck have I been doing for the last 20 minutes?" So we started the climb, which wasn't particularly difficult, just long. The grades ranged from 2-8%. That was the first time I felt like I was actually in the mix with the best guys in the group. Nate took off with Lewis off the front, and Matias brought Cascio up to me. I decided to let Matias set the tempo and go with him. That was a very bold move, because Matias is one hell of an athlete. I don't call him "Mad Dog" for nothing. I managed to stay with him for around 8K, and then I decided I had enough. No need to go high into zone 4 — hell I'd been there practically all week.
By then, I was all alone, and settled into a decent rhythm. I'd discovered a lot about myself that week. I had a better appreciation of what the climbers endure racing to the top of these cols. It's a true test from within while at the same time, projected and amplified with competitors around you. Both physically and mentally, that week was going to tell me a lot about myself for that race season and years to come.
Once we got to a relative flat spot (anything less than 4%) I got out of the saddle, clicked up through the gears, and took off. For the first time that week I managed to reach all the way up to Nate. He caught sight if me once I was about 100m behind him, and started running scared. He ramped up his pace but it didn't matter. I got on his wheel for about a minute, and then I took off like a bolt and got up the road about 50m. My mistake was that I sat back down before I got to the turn. The second I sat down, he took off, caught me, and went up the road. I guess you lose some! Considering that I had been swimming and running all through the week, and doing all the optional climbs, I felt good about my effort. I still managed to stay close to both Nate and Matias all the way to the top. I came in 4th for the KOM that day and now had a 3 point lead over Cascio and was sitting in 2nd place overall. With the company I was training/racing with, I was very happy!
After the climb, we had a harrowing decent down a road about as wide as the W&OD (Washington and Old Dominion Trail). Luckily, there were no cars coming up. You had to be very careful on the hairpins, or you'd fall off a 200m cliff. At the bottom, we regrouped and rode into a village for lunch. We were all starting to feel the effects of the week, but I think the main culprit was the weather. All of a sudden we were pushing the mid 30s (Celsius — in the States, that's well into the 90s, Fahrenheit). We started going through water bottles as fast as we good get them. We worked like a well-oiled machine all the way back through some flats and rollers in some of the most beautiful countryside you'll ever see. We managed to average nearly 40km/hr (26+mph) for almost 2 hours, which got us back to Luscan after our three day, three-country tour of the Pyrenees. It just didn't get any better than that. About 15km from Luscan, we came by a sign to the tiniest of villages, named "Reston." Can you believe that? A bunch of RATS never left Reston, even when going to France.
Run Session None of us were in the mood to run, so we d put our legs in the pool and hydrated. Matias, Cascio, and I finally headed out for a run at about 6PM, so that dinner would be ready when we got back. Perfect plan. I managed 10K on the run, and Cascio did the 6.5km loop. Matias, unbeknownst to me, went off with his own plan, deciding to find a trail to the top of the local hill, where he later said the view was fantastic.
The next day was the "queen" stage that I designed, and it was sick. Two HC climbs, and one Cat. 1. I designed it with Ian before I realized what I was getting myself into.
Day 6: The Queen Stage
Bike Session (09:00 – 17:00) Everyone, especially me, had been awaiting this day with great anticipation. Just three weeks before it had been Stage 9 of this year's Tour, but only the first two climbs. Ian and I decided we had to make it even more brutal and "epic" by adding a Cat. 1 mountaintop finish at the Hautacam (1525m). We had a rather easy roll out from base camp at Luscan, for once. It was 42km to the base of the first Cat. 1 climb for the day, the Col D'Aspin (1490m). This road was repaved just for the Tour, which, according to Ian, is quite common. The Tour de France serves the country in many ways. Not only is it the most competitive bicycle stage race in the world, it shows off the beautiful and varied countryside that is France.
As we made the right turn to start the 12km climb, we were all together. The Col' D'Aspin has some beautiful vistas, and as you near the top, the switchbacks start in earnest. Based on what we had already done that week, it really wasn't too bad. As we approached the summit, our order was unchanged; this wasn't the KOM climb for the day. The weather cleared up, and according to Julie, it was the best day atop the D'Aspin this year. As a group, we were truly blessed. There were many more cars, bikes, and motorcycles around on this ascent. I guess because those were the most famous climbs of the Pyrenees — it isn't the queen stage for nothing! Once at the top, the vista was spectacular. We also had some comic relief — first goats came up, wanting to lick the salty sweat off our legs. I rewarded one by feeding him my orange peels. A few minutes later, before we began the descent, a huge cow came right up next to us on the road next to the van and relieved himself, about 5 gallons worth! We had a good time with that one.
Finally, we made our way down a crazy 20km descent. This is the one area in which I was probably the best in the group. Only Ian, who lived there, could take me to task. I guess having ridden a motorcycle since I learned to walk has its advantages! After the descent, I led the group out to the beginning of the ascent of the granddaddy of them all, the Col du Tourmalet. As we began the ascent, we noticed quite a few cars and a lot of people at the side of the road. We didn't know why, but found out later. Since the weather was clear, you could see the way the road we were going to have to ride meandered up the mountain. It was a very daunting climb. What makes this one so special is, first, its length. It's nearly 18km long, but what makes it different than every other climb we've done is its consistency. It is 10% constantly from start to finish; there is no letup, not even one100m flat. Because this climb was so special to me I had to take pictures along the way. I didn't want to dishonor the climb by stopping, so I took pictures while seated and riding; which was fairly difficult. About 5K from the top, it tricks you. You haven't arrived at the top, but rather at the ski village of La Mongie. There were more and more people on the side of the road; a few even clapped for me. I was thinking that the French really are nice and welcoming. As I neared the 1km to go mark, I saw Nate sprinting in to get the 2nd place KOM points. I was hoping to get him once this week, but with the swimming, running, and writing these reports at night, I just didn't have it in me. Yesterday, I had given it my best shot and came quite close. With about 300 meters to go, I noticed a group of 3-4 guys closing in on me quickly. Although I didn't know for sure, I figured they were pros. As we neared the van with about 50m to go, they were alongside. I sprinted with all I had to the summit, and we crossed together. Those guys got me to work!
We all got together for a French lunch at the cafe at the top. We took the obligatory pictures — the view was amazing, of course. After about an hour, it was time for a harrowing descent. We found out that the growing crowds on the side of the road were for the Tour of the Pyrenees, which was passing through within minutes. We didn't want to get caught up in all that, but sure enough, close to the bottom of the descent, we all got together at a little village to watch the leaders and peloton come through. As we were coming into town, people thought we were the race leaders. I heard clapping and "allez, allez, allez" coming from numerous directions. On the descent, Nate and I shared the duties passing motorbikes and cars — even one bus! It was wild to be riding alongside Nate at nearly 80km/hr, holding a conversation.
Once we arrived at the turn for the Hautacam, the race was in full swing, and the back of the Peloton caught me. As we came to the one roundabout, the race was 15km from the finish dead ahead, but we had to go right. When I turned right, the Gendarme yelled at me, along with about 100 people in the crowd, that I was going the wrong way! I had to just shake my head. By this time, I was ahead of the whole crew. I followed the signs to Hautacam, to the great dismay of the assembled crowd and police.
Our mountaintop finish of the big day, and a deciding mountaintop finish in many Tours de France (which included one of Lance's greatest victories), approached. Ian led the group up a shortcut, while I took a route that was around 2-3km longer. Great! I went from being first to last! This climb wasn't particularly hard (about 9% for 13K), but let's just say my perspective had changed. This one was different. I really started to bonk and really wasn't having much fun. Suddenly, the skies turned dark; it began to rain and thunder as I ascended into a cloud. My mood and the weather were both becoming gray and ominous. One by one I caught my friends: Matt, then I saw that Cascio got in the van, and then I finally caught Ian. I guess we were all feeling pretty bad! I never saw Matias or Nate: nothing new, but when I reached the top, you could tell Matias wasn't happy. He thought this last climb was a little over the top. I think his exact words were, "stupid."
Brick Run Regardless, Matias, Dave, and I took off for the 1km ascent to the top of the Col de Tramassel (1635m) beyond the summit of the Hautacam. I did have fun turning around to the sound of thunder, to get back to the car ASAP. It was weird how the first and last real big climbs of the week were in bad weather, but the rest was excellent. Coming in from the run, I was a few yards ahead of Matias. All of a sudden, I heard him sprinting behind me, so we stupidly sprinted at full speed for 100m, after we have just ridden 130km brutal miles, including three ridiculous climbs. Not smart, but "epic," to say the least. Finally, we all piled in the car and drove the 60km back to the house. We did stop by a local bike store, where I picked up a sweet jersey that had all the climbs that I had just done. What a great day and queen stage for the inaugural Camp Ratatouille! We will certainly repeat that day for all newcomers.
Day 7: The Test
Swim Session (08:00 – 09:00) It was time for one last swim at Lake Aventignan. That time I only managed about 1400m. We headed back for a quick bite, and then it was time for the time trial, for which everyone had been waiting all week. Dave, "the Legend," certainly takes the title of "fish" for the week. For the week, he must have swum the distance that Matias and I did together.
Bike Session (11:00 – 15:00) – We had a brief, easy roll out to the Col des Ares (797m). This serves as PM's 6.7km uphill time trial that every camper comes to do at the end of the week. The goal is to get on the all-time top ten list back at the house. The record is in the 15-minute range. Without mentioning names, there are some pro names on that board that everyone would recognize. We did the time trial in true racing style. The person with the least KOM points started first, following by the next, at one-minute intervals, ending with Mad Dog Matias, the KOM leader. My goal was to try and catch Dave, who was one minute up the road, and/or not be passed by Nate, who was one minute behind me. The climb wasn't that bad, it varied from 2-7%. It's hard just to keep focus and drive, while going uphill all-out for nearly 20 minutes, when you've been killing yourself all week. However, it's this type of effort that pushes your mental limits for an upcoming Ironman. You'll think, "The training was hard, so the racing will be easy." The end results were predictable — everyone managed to stay pretty close to his or her one-minute gap. That was one of the best things about the group; we were very closely matched.
Ian, Julie, Lewis, Amy (Ian and Julie's daughter who had just come home from college in England), and Nate all decided they were knackered and headed home. The weather wasn't all that good either, with intermittent drizzle and cool temperatures. Matias, Dave, and I had some unfinished business and sights to see, and places to which we wanted to pay our respects. First we hit the Col de Buret (599m) before the infamous Col de Portet d'Aspet (1069m), where Fabio Casartelli met his end in 1995. Fabio played a critical role mentoring Lance Armstrong in the early days of his European racing. When Lance looked up at the end of every stage, he was saying a prayer for Fabio.
We did the Col de Portet d'Aspet as an out and back climb, so we could descend past the memorial. The last climb of the day was going to be an easy one, or so I thought. I was very wrong. The weather continued to worsen; we entered a cloudbank as we ascended Col de Menté (1349m), which restricted visibility to about 20m. I couldn't see the switchbacks coming, which was a good thing, because we must have hit at least 25. At the top, Dave, Matias, and I all congratulated each other for doing every climb, every run, and every swim. By doing so, we all received 20 bonus KOM points. We managed to get over 110km on this supposed "light day." It was a fantastic way to end the week.
Brick Run I came back and we all managed another 6.5km run off the bike. I was thoroughly beat after that, though. All that was left was to clean up, pack the bike, and go to our ceremonial bon voyage dinner with our hosts. It was there that Matias received his KOM polka dot jersey, while the rest of us got our PM jersey that shows all of the climbs we did. A true memento that I will cherish forever!
Post RATatouille Results & Summary
Now, what everyone has been waiting for: how much did we really do? And who won the KOM competition?
| TOTALS | ||
| Discipline | Distance | Time |
| Swim | 9000m | 2:53 hours |
| Bike | 835km | 31:50 hours |
| Run | 47km | 4:10 hours |
| Total | 891km | 40 hours! |
| Total Ascent ON Bike | 51,743 ft | |
| King of the Mountain Totals | |
| The Pro | 124 |
| The Visionary | 113 |
| The Legend | 100 |
| The Roadie | 64 |
Now I know I talked a big game at the outset of this article about what an "epic camp" like this can do. Well, the proof is in the pudding, as they say. One week after returning from the camp, went on to the Luray Triathlon and recorded a bike split 3 minutes faster over 40km than ever before. I followed that up two weeks later with a bike split at Ironman Louisville that was 15 minutes faster than the two previous years, and was the 7th fastest in the entire age group race! Matias went on to win the Reston Triathlon handily; he also won the age group title at the world's largest triathlon. Yes, Matias won the Elite Amateur Competition Division of the Chicago Triathlon! As this article goes into print, Matias is in the final stages of preparing for the Ironman World Championships, and if he proves me right, the title I bestowed upon him as "Pro" will no longer be fiction, but reality. The results are clear. If one can successfully overreach in a camp setting like this and then properly recover, the physiological and psychological gains are virtually immeasurable.
In summary and retrospect, this week changed me. Not only in the fitness gains I reached, but in altering my perception of what I can do. What I used to consider very difficult, like Skyline Drive and Mt. Weather, are now just little blips. I became quite jaded and seasoned to the Pyrenees. If a climb doesn't have too many double-digit grades and doesn't exceed 20km, I consider it rather easy! Those climbs and that week are doable by a lot of people, but they are certainly not for the weak of heart. You need a lot of heart and determination to take it on; just as you need the same if you want to compete in an Ironman. I cannot think of anything that can prepare one for the mental and physical rigors of an Ironman race than a week like that. If it sounds like fun, feel free to contact me or visit www.trirats.net for more details on next year's camp. We have room for 10-17 campers. Don't be intimidated! We will have two groups: one for those that want to go "epic" like in this article; another for those who are a little saner.
Finally, I'd like to thank those who have supported me and made my participation in this camp and this experience possible. First, my sponsors: Bonzai Sports for taking care of my bike and providing me with the Polar CS600x, which chronicled and measured every aspect of the week; Hammer Nutrition for providing me with the energy I needed to hammer on; DeSoto sport for providing the most comfortable technical gear one could want for an "epic week" of training; and last but not least, the Wrights and Pyrenees Multisport for providing everything anyone could ever want to make an experience like this possible.
See you next year on the slopes of the Pyrenees!
