November 24, 2025

A Year of Running

I’ve been running frequently for about 3 years now and I started 2025 with 2 objectives:

As I write this I’m at 960K total this year so the first objective will probably be achieved (hoping I’m not jinxing myself here). I was lucky and consistent enough to run at least 20K a week most weeks and that set me on a good trajectory.
As for the races, I ran 4 and they pushed my running to new heights and deepened my love for the sport.

The first one was the badly named « 15km de Liège Métropole » in April. This is actually a multi-event race and I chose to do the 21K trail run that started next to my village, continued through the woods I usually run in, and finished in the city center of Liège. It was a great way to start running again and to work through some difficult changes at work.

Nothing like running at a good pace to end up in a queue for 20 minutes — that’s a trail running race for you.

I had a great time running it at a relaxed pace. I listened to Live On Boston Harbor by the Fleet Foxes to match the moody environment and discovered new paths linking villages to Liège through the woods. I really love finding the old footpath connective tissue and byways between places. Their aid stations also made me realize that pepper Tuc are awesome trail running snacks.

Soon after, my running buddy Laurent asked me if I was motivated to register for "Les 4 Cimes", a 33K road race with 700m of elevation (hence the name which means “4 peaks”). It’s a famous event in the Liège region, entirely free and taking place in the beautiful hilly surroundings of the Pays de Herve.
I was initially unsure since a half-marathon was the furthest I’d ever run on roads, but I ended up registering. I figured it would be a nice stepping stone towards running a marathon someday. Also they offer a free cheese plate to the finishers — say no more.

Training for the race gave structure to the rest of my year and I established a rough plan for the next 5 months, slowly increasing my weekly distance and elevation. I also registered for 2 races of increasing difficulty to act as checkpoints. Running plans are a tough balancing act: if they’re too strict they rob the fun out of my running, and if they’re too loose I end up undertrained. So I try to set only broad objectives well in advance to not worry too much about a week where I’m doing nothing but going to the beach and eating pains au chocolat (that might be a real example).

Those 5 months of training went great: no injuries, no sickness, just steady progress. The focus on adding elevation made me discover new paths and the longer runs were the perfect opportunity to indulge in my newfound love of audiobooks.

My second race of the year was the Jogging de Tilff (13K) in August, a short race with 223m of elevation. Clear blue skies and my family cheering on the side of the road "Allez Papa Allez Papa!" as I ran through my village made it a memorable run. I finished in the first 40% of runners which gave me a big boost as someone who’s never achieved even average status in sports before.

Captured by my partner Cécile as I ran past my house. I’m the big blue guy.

The 3rd race of the year snuck up on me fast and I was a bit undertrained for it: La Fontinoise, a 24K trail run with 750 meters of elevation (my recording says that it was 900 meters of elevation, and my legs tend to believe that higher number). The beginning was great as I chatted with my pal Willem who came to run this race with me as an excuse to catch up. The real test began when we split ways at the 13th kilometer as Willem was running the 17K race. I jokingly said to him we might still finish at the same time and oh boy do I regret bragging.

Still looking fresh right before the start in Fontin.

Those last 11K were hard. The elevation was very steep and the paths technical. I met runners lost in the woods because they missed a sign and a guy just sitting on the forest ground, his legs shaking. When there were only 5K to go, a thunderstorm started and drenched me. I almost gave up then and there until I glommed on to a group of runners persevering under the heavy downpour for mental support. For the first time on a run my legs started shaking uncontrollably too with 3K to go, but I walked for a bit and it subsided. I managed to finish running but barely. I did not arrive at the same time as Willem but a solid hour later. The fries we had after were some of the best of my life.

I still enjoyed the race despite the difficulty, but it gave me a bit of a confidence crisis for Les 4 Cimes. Even if this one had more elevation and a technical terrain, it was also 9K shorter and still almost broke me. I also knew that there wasn’t going to be a lot of time left for training until November with my daily life getting busier. I recuperated for a week and immediately started training as much as I could fit into a tight schedule, running only 2 times a week rather than my usual 3 but at least putting in some long hilly runs to prepare for the demands of the big day.

Taken during the race, a typical Herve landscape.

November and the last race day of the year finally came. It was one of those beautiful dry crisp autumn days with leaves still falling, occasional blue skies and a perfect 10°C. The event was super well staffed and organized and there was a full-blown fanfare playing before the start. I was not feeling extremely confident about the distance, having only managed to run 20K 600m at most during training, but I figured it should be doable by taking it easy in the beginning. I knew that after 20K nothing would be easy, no matter the pace. I paid even less attention to planning my nutrition during the race. I didn’t pack any fancy gels or electrolytes but stuffed 4 slabs of cooked marzipan into my backpack, thinking deliciousness was probably more important than anything else to keep me moving forward.

The race started, I felt the usual energy from all the runners surrounding me, took it easy, deep breaths, leisurely pace, and immediately rolled my ankle. It wasn’t too bad, especially in the beginning, but it became one of the only things I could think about in the last few kilometers. During most of the race I was in a flow state, listening to music, moving with the crowd, looking at the scenery, eating bits of delicious marzipan, maintaining my form without thinking too hard about it. I received audio messages from my partner and daughter encouraging me; lots of people were also cheering during climbs and on the sides which really makes the event charming.

As always when I’m pushing myself comes a part where the flow state ends and the mental gymnastics begin. In the beginning the math is simple: “over halfway done, nearly there!”. With time, the subdivisions become more contorted: “OK, only 3K to go until you only have a 5K to run, 5K is easy, 3K is super easy, it’s all very easy really.” This time my ankle pain was part of the mix and I tried as well as I could to ease it by trying to find the perfect spots on the uneven roads to put more effort on the other foot (I don’t think it was doing anything at all but you know — mental gymnastics). After a while, portioning the rest of the distance into smaller mental chunks became more tiring than motivating, and I couldn’t even think about eating marzipan anymore. I was just left with simple inner-voice cheers and grittted teeth until the finish line.

The end of the race is at the summit of a bonus peak that they do not count in the 4 official ones. It’s cruelly a few meters higher than where the staring line was, and you just have to climb this long straight street to finish. At that point I was fully walking, just wanting to be done. But some people started to cheer louder at a man who must have been nearing his 70s behind me. He was still running. I want to believe it was out of being inspired rather than misplaced pride, but seeing him made me pick myself up and run the last few meters of the climb. I crossed the finish line seeing spots and almost passed out. I stumbled towards the aid station, ate an apple, drank a big glass of very sugary tea and all was right in the world. I got my free finisher t-shirt, skipped the free cheese plate and drove to McDonald’s — the heart wants what it wants in those moments.

It felt very good to have achieved this race after aiming towards it for so long. Races are inherently unfair as even if you train and prepare right, you might end up sick, life might throw something unexpected at you or you just might feel and perform like crap that specific day without rhyme or reason. But when everything aligns there’s nothing quite like it. It feels good to push your limits and find that you can take it. Immediately your minds absorbs this new milestone and readjusts its perception: 10K? A little morning fun. 20K? Easy enough. 33K? Achievable. 42K? I want to try that next.