🧀 Chronicle of a weekend in Mont d'Or (or how to end up with fondue)
- 26 août
- 7 min de lecture
After the success of our Alsace getaway to run the Landelow trail last year, the date was set for the weekend of June 21st in the Jura. Destination: Métabief (pronounced "Métabié" to avoid getting told off by the locals), at the foot of Mont d'Or, a region well known to lovers of melted cheese and unapologetic cholesterol.
🎬Episode 1 : a dream team
The Kuristos delegation consisted of 8 daring souls, determined to conquer the Jurassic slopes on the Swiss border (without declaring their thighs to customs). Marie-Noëlle, who was supposed to join, had to drop out. But she was a golden intermediary: she’s the one who found us the cottage! She handled the owners remotely like a boss. Thanks to her, we avoided sleeping under the stars (and given the weather, we would have melted).
The grid of torments
Four distances awaited us on the day's menu. The guinea pigs divided themselves as follows:
The "Small Players" (16 km): Catherine, Vassilis, and Valentin.
The "Masochistic Mediocre" (25 km): Aude, Sibylle, and Isidro.
The "Big Sickos" (Originally 55 km): Nathias and Vincent.
Orange Heat
On Friday, June 19th, a heatwave hits Europe. The Doubs department goes on orange alert. Translation: it's hot enough to fry an egg on a runner's head. But the organizers are boiling with enthusiasm: the trail will go ahead!
On Saturday, June 20th, three cars set off from Woluwe-Saint-Lambert. Seven hours of driving later, we arrive in Montperreux. No issues to report, except for some numb backsides. Nathias, our Formula 1 driver, rushes to pick up the race bibs. And that’s when the first disaster strikes. First cold shower (or rather, heat shock): the 55 km race is shortened to 44 km due to the heat.
Déjà vu! Last year at the Landelow, the 25 km had been cut to 15 km at the last minute. And guess for whom? Once again, Nathias and Vincent. These two have a superpower: they shrink distances like a wool sweater in the dryer.
Candles and prefectoral guillotine
That evening, we celebrated Vassilis's birthday (who had already turned a year older the day before). He blew out his candles with elegance, without setting off the cottage's fire alarm, which is quite a feat given the ambient temperature.
Just before bedtime, the news drops: the 44 km (formerly 55 km) is now 38 km! It’s official, Nathias and Vincent are cursed. On top of that, the prefecture lays down the law: at 1:00 PM, everyone must be off the course! Stragglers will be intercepted and sent back before the peak heat at 2:00 PM. Needless to say, we’ll have to set our sneakers on fire to avoid getting picked up by the patrol.
The day of the great roasting
Sunday, 4:00 AM. Nathias and Vincent’s alarms scream like banshees. Quick coffee chugging. The starts are staggered: 6:00 AM for the greatly cursed, 8:00 AM for the 25 km, and 9:00 AM for the 16 km.
The race profiles? A real slaughterhouse. 30% gradients that shred your muscle fibers faster than a meat grinder. The thighs are going to suffer, but luckily, the aid stations are stocked with water to prevent the Kuristos from turning into dehydrated mummies.
1:30 PM: Game over. The car’s thermometer reads 40°C. All 8 Kuristos are alive, but in what state of decay?
🎬 Episode 2 : The truth comes from the mouths of trailers (over a Comté)
8:00 PM. The moment of truth. The 8 survivors are gathered around a giant Comté fondue, washed down with Jura wine to oil the internal gears. It’s time for the debrief.
The 16 km brigade: Traffic jams and turbo
Vassilis kicks things off with a highly philosophical reflection: "Hey, I didn’t quite get the concept of your trail... We came here to run, right? Because I spent my time inching along in a conga line, stuck in traffic jams on the uphill! I only ran on the flat parts—which basically never happened!" General laughter. Vassilis has just discovered that mountain trailing is first and foremost intensive hiking with a race bib.
Catherine, on the other hand, admits she really suffered on the climbs under the scorching sun. Yet, when we saw her cross the finish line after 3 hours and 15 minutes with 710 meters of elevation gain, she had a rosy complexion and an ultra-bright smile. A mystery of science.
Valentin, our trail lover, was a bit frustrated. His Achilles tendon had been acting up for weeks, preventing him from training properly. Common sense led him to downgrade to the 16 km. Good thing he did! After starting in "cautious grandpa mode" to test his stubborn tendon, he shifted into turbo. He literally bombed down the final descent toward Métabief to finish in 2:05. Hats off to the artist!
The 25 km squad: Slalom, sweat, and splashes
For the 25 km (with 1,435 meters of elevation gain), the race starts at 8:00 AM. After a stressful drive on Jura roads full of potholes, our three musketeers take the time to strike a pose. At the start, they meet up with Anne and Pascal, our dear ex-Kuristos from Burgundy, who also came to taste the heat of Mont d’Or.
For Sibylle, who was complaining about her knee just last week, it was a walk in the park (or almost). Paired with Anne, she devoured the climbs and descents in 4 hours and 40 minutes. Her main challenge? Slaloming between competitors and dodging the elegant spit of less refined runners. A true obstacle course.
Aude managed her effort wisely. At a shared aid station, she crossed paths with Nathias. The two decided to run together for a while to outsmart the clock and escape the infamous 1:00 PM time barrier. Unfortunately, faced with insane gradients that would have discouraged even a chamois, they had to face the facts: it was impossible to finish within the prefecture’s time limit. The steep slopes got the better of their calves.
Finally, let’s talk about Isidro. This was his very first trail. Confident after completing a marathon without breaking a sweat, and convinced his Spanish blood would protect him from the 35°C heat, he set off carefree: no cap, just a small water bottle at his waist. Big mistake!
He quickly realized that mountains are nothing like pavement. His thighs were on fire, and he was as thirsty as a desert. At every aid station, his brain screamed at him to drink in moderation, but his hands kept chugging glasses of fresh water like there was no tomorrow. The result? Isidro finished the race accompanied by a symphony of glorious "bloub-bloub" sounds echoing straight from his stomach, now transformed into a jacuzzi.
10:33am
🎬 Episode 3 : The survivors of the long distance and the final verdict
The cursed duo of the 38 km: Operation "Save Your Tires"
Now, let’s talk about our two brave (or crazy) souls, Nathias and Vincent, who set off at dawn (6:00 AM, when even the roosters of Jura are still asleep). Just a reminder: their 55 km race had melted like snow in the sun, turning into a 38 km. A real Jura-ssic Park blow to morale!
From the first strides, the duo realized this wouldn’t be a walk in the park—more like an extreme pilgrimage. Running in this heat was a surefire way to have their legs smoking and their neurons frying.
Vincent, solid as a rock (or rather, a block of aged Comté cheese), managed his race like a pro. Despite hills that took your breath away and descents designed to destroy your kneecaps, he stayed the course without flinching. He crossed the finish line with the satisfaction of a job well done, his thighs turned to jam, but with a smile on his face. A true all-terrain trail runner!
Nathias, our official bib hunter and rocket, gave it his all. After playing the altruist and supporting Aude on the 25 km course, he had to dig deep into his last reserves of fuel. The "insane" gradients nearly did his calves in, but his determination was stronger than the heatwave. He finished this monumental challenge drained, exhausted, but very much alive. Hats off to the artists—you survived the curse!
🏆 The Kuristos' Report Card: A Gold Medal Team!
In the end, what a crazy weekend! Whether we ran 16, 25, or 38 kilometers, we can say it loud and proud: we set the bar very (Mont d')Or high!
World record for "bloub-bloub" sounds: Unanimously awarded to Isidro and his jacuzzi stomach.
Colgate Freshness Award: Goes to Catherine for her flawless smile after 3 hours and 15 minutes of agony.
Turbo Tendon Prize: Awarded to Valentin, the bomber of Métabief.
Infinite Patience Award: To Vassilis, the king of the mountain conga line.
Dodge-the-Spit Diploma: For Sibylle, the elite slalomer.
Fighting Spirit Award: To Aude, who defied the time barriers.
Survivors of the Curse Trophy: For Vincent and Nathias, our Jura desert warriors.
And finally, a big thank you: To Marie-Noëlle, our behind-the-scenes real estate agent, without whom we wouldn’t have been able to stuff ourselves with melted cheese in this beautiful gîte.
Last year it was Alsace, this year it was Jura, always under the scorching heat... Where will we go to melt next year? Bets are open, but one thing is certain: the Kuristos never run out of energy (or cheese)!