Riding the line on a retreat in Chamonix

I was supposed to be the responsible host showing the way, not tearing off like an idiot at the front. Oh well

That’s a nice looking downhill, with lots of people to overtake.

I’ve just spent the weekend running around in those fantastical mountains that surround Chamonix in France, that tower always unexpectedly high, hulking giants in the sky.

I could wax lyrical all day about how much fun we had, how we skipped and lolloped through the woods, stopping to drink ginger beer at isolated alpine refuges, but it might come across as a bit of an advertorial (since I was there on my The Way of the Runner retreat).

So instead, I’ll delve into a little thing that was on my mind, playing away at the fringes of my consciousness, during those long, steep group runs.

As one of the hosts on the retreat, experienced in the mountains and knowing the trails fairly well, I had the role of being a sort of extra guide (we did have two official, qualified mountain guides). As such, I was often tasked with running at the back of the group, or sometimes in the middle, and sometimes at the front.

Rationally I knew these runs were not races, there was no hurry, that we would all regroup further up the trail no matter what speed we went. Nobody was getting there any quicker - well, they might get to the halfway refuge quicker, with the refreshments, but essentially we were all going the same way as a unit. I also knew I wasn’t there for a hard training weekend, and that any moving around in the mountains was just a bonus, fitness-wise. No, I was there to make sure the guests were having fun, and to help ensure everything ran smoothly - alongside the guides and my fellow host, elite trail runner Tom Payn.

Despite all this, however, I couldn’t help but feel this constant urge to be moving more quickly. Up the hills, I felt a desire to push, to power on, to feel the burn in my legs, rather than be content enjoying the more pleasant pace at the back. I did enjoy going slower, don’t get me wrong. It was actually lovely. But some part of me was always itching to go faster.