Cagous Trail

This year, the Trail des Cagous* takes place along the River Ouaméni, 100 km north-west of Nouméa. This run forms part of my preparation for the Nice Ultra Trail. I don’t have any specific performance targets: above all, it will give me the chance to train in real-world conditions, on a route I’m not familiar with.

Although the distance and elevation gain are a bit high at this stage of my preparation (47 km and 2,350 elevation gain as advertised), it will give me the chance to assess my fitness. I’ll also be taking the opportunity to test my new poles in a race situation and see if they’re actually useful… or if they might get in the way.

I reckon my race time will be between 7h30 and 8h in good conditions, and a bit longer if the rain makes the ground slippery.

I arrive at the venue a little early. I like to take my time getting ready without any stress. The atmosphere is pleasant, as is often the case at this sort of event. There are 143 of us at the start of the 47 km race.

One little quirk: after the compulsory kit check, we cross the River Ouaméni to reach the start line. I don’t fancy taking my shoes off, so I’ll be setting off with wet feet. 😊 After all, in trail running, it’s not unusual to cross water crossings, and I’m used to running with wet feet.

That’s it, the race has started! The first five kilometres are fast-paced and flat: perfect for warming up. But the risk is setting off too quickly… which is exactly what I did, and sooner or later, you pay the price…

For now, I’ve got a good stride — for my level — and, like many runners, I’m revelling in the scenery. The route has been particularly well prepared: the ground is dry, the temperature ideal, between 20 and 25 °C. In short, the conditions are perfect.

After 30 minutes, the climb begins. We gain a bit of height, and the view is well worth it. I use my new poles to help me on these climbs, which aren’t necessarily very long, but are steep. It’s a succession of climbs and descents… a real leg-burner!

Around the 25 km mark, I start to feel a bit of a slump. Nothing serious, but it’s a bit early for that. No panic, I carry on.

Once past the 30 km mark, it gets tough. I’m really struggling. As always at times like this, I focus on my effort and dig deep to get going again as soon as possible. My poles are a great help, especially when I see yet another slope to climb.

These moments are strange: they’re both difficult and a source of pleasure. Perhaps it’s the satisfaction of pushing myself further, of pushing my limits.

I’ve passed the 40 km mark. Knowing I don’t have much further to go, I maintain my pace. On the final descent, two competitors quickly overtake me. It spurs me on; I pick up the pace again and, despite the fatigue, manage to get back into a decent rhythm.

I cross the river where the race started once more… and there’s the finish line! I’m exhausted but happy, despite the disappointment over my time. I don’t know it yet, but I know I’m among the last.

When I see the results – 128th… – I realise it’s not great. But in the end, I was right to do this race. Firstly because it’s a great event, and secondly because it’ll help me adapt my training to improve: managing my poles better and listening to how my body feels during the effort. And it confirms what I already knew: I need to work on my speed.