A report by Niel Michiels (FR) and Magali Clerbaux (EN).
En 2023, un Liège-Paris-Liège et un Liège-Chimay-Liège avaient été organisés en parallèle avec Paris-Brest-Paris, grand évènement ultra qui se tient tous les 4 ans. Après le succès de cette édition, l’organisation de LPL a décidé de refaire une édition en août 2024 : Liège-Paris-Liège “1000” (+ de 1.100km avec +13.500m de D+) et Liège-Bouillon-Liège “500” (+ de 560km avec presque 9000m de D+).
MA PREMIÈRE COURSE ULTRA (by Neal)
La course débute à 6h pile avec des sons de cloche et une ascension groupée de la Pierreuse, côte en pavé pour monter vers la Citadelle de Liège. De là, les coureurs sont libres de choisir les chemins de leur traversée de la Meuse et du plateau du Condroz. A Dinant, un passage obligatoire passe par la Montagne de la Croix: une des côtes les plus raides en Belgique, située en parallèle à la Citadelle de Dinant. Le prochain point de passage est le chateau de Bouillon, à la Semois. Ici commence la trace obligatoire de +400km, commun aux deux distance. Elle compte des dizaines de côtes: certaines plus longues, d’autres plus raides. La course passe par Ostbelgien, le Luxembourg et l’Eifel en Allemagne. L’épreuve se fait sur route, mais contient également des sections gravel en forêt, cependant bien choisies pour que les pneus de route y passent sans problème.
L'épreuve se fait sur route, mais contient également des sections gravel en forêt.
Magali et moi parcourons +230km avec 3700m de D+ le premier jour, et arrivons le soir à Martelange, à la frontière belgo-luxembourgeoise. Comme il reste des chambres à l’hôtel-restaurant au niveau du monument national des Chasseurs Ardennais, ça en vaut la peine de grimper les 600m avec une pente moyenne de 9,5% pour rejoindre l’établissement. Le choix s’avère le bon, avec un excellent dîner et la rencontre avec le duo Jordi & Sam, avant une bonne nuit de sommeil.
Pendant que la nuit tombe, d’autres participants décident de continuer. Viktor E. arrivera à Liège en vainqueur du “500 solo” à 6h43, à la levée du soleil. Dans l’épreuve longue par Paris, Laurens V. arrive à 10h08, après deux jours et nuits de rouler sans arrêt. Il devance de seulement 22 minutes Robert Muller qui, lui aussi, termine le Liège-Paris-Liège sans sommeil, ni même une petite pause de plus que quelques minutes précieuses.
Mon objectif pour ma première participation à une course ultra est de ne pas me blesser et repartir l'effort sur trois jours, sans rouler la nuit, ni sous la pluie.
Ces performances sont extraordinaires. Mon objectif pour ma première participation à une course ultra est de ne pas me blesser et repartir l’effort sur trois jours, sans rouler la nuit, ni sous la pluie. Sur le parcours obligatoire, on ressent qu’il s’agit de bien plus que ‘500 km à vélo’. Le vent sud de face du 1er jour souffle maintenant de dos, mais la moyenne de vitesse… diminue encore pendant cette 2e journée. Cela s’explique par le gros dénivelé à surmonter en bike-packing et la nécessité d’économiser les efforts. J’adore les côtes et les jambes et le mental sont bons, mais force est de constater qu’avec une moyenne de 19,35km/h, les heures passées sur le vélo sont longues. J’avais pris une petite tente et même des chaussures, avec l’idée de me reposer le soir sur le camping au bord d’une rivière… en réalité, il n’y avait que trois activités : rouler, manger et dormir.
Au jour 2, un orage est prévu aux environs de 19 ou 20 heures. J’essaie donc de bien avancer pour m’arrêter avant d’être complètement mouillé. Quand les premières gouttes tombent, j’ai la chance de m’abriter sous un bel abribus en bois sur un parking du parc naturel de l’Eifel. Deux participants me rejoignent: François et Clarence. On sort les matelas et sac de couchage, pour se reposer jusqu’à la levée de soleil, dans une nuit froide à 10°C.
La nuit se passe bien et au matin, le moral est excellent avec plus que 140km et 2000m de D+ au programme. Je retrouve Jordi et Sam sur la route et nous croisons Mathilde W., vainqueure féminine de LPL 1000 en solo. Libéré du stress des deux premiers jours d’économiser mon énergie, je fonce sur la Redoute et la Roche aux Faucons, ascensions mythiques du Monument cycliste ardennaise Liège-Bastogne-Liège.
Un énorme bravo à Magali, 3e du classement femmes en 500 solo. Un podium BBB bien mérité qui fait plaisir !
A l’arrivée à Liège, les organisateurs sont particulièrement bienveillants: après des applaudissements par l’équipe, ils demandent personnellement comment j’ai vécu l’épreuve. Magali arrive peu de temps après, visiblement émotionnée, car elle avait eu une préparation difficile. Un énorme bravo à elle, 3e du classement femmes en 500 solo. Un podium BBB bien mérité qui fait plaisir !
Le choix pour l’année prochaine s’avère déjà difficile, entre refaire les ‘500’ pour revivre une expérience dure mais au même temps conviviale, avec des belles pauses sur le chemin. Ou tenter les ‘1000’, avec presque 300km/jour pendant 4 jours et beaucoup de D+.
Une chose est sûre : mon corps a bien suivi l’effort, et surtout, j’ai pleinement ouvert les yeux sur la pratique de l’ultra. Es-tu également intéressé.e par les longues distances? BBB organise désormais chaque année un BRM (Brevets Randonneurs Mondiaux) et compte une section longues distances.
Neal Michiels
MY FIRST MULTI-DAY RACE (by Magali)
It’s been a few weeks since I finished Liege-Bouillon-Liege, and the words are starting to flow only now. What a crazy and intense experience it has been, I just start realising everything I went through in such a small amount of time. Life on ten-times-speed. Or ten-times-slower if you take a look at my average speed. I feel like most of the race happened in my head more than in my legs and body, at least I’ve had as many thoughts as the 9746m of elevation I gained, from which at least 572 about reasons to have a “DNF” appear behind my name, matching the total number of kilometers.
After succesfully completing the 370km distance on Bikeway to Hell in May, I thought I could as well use all the previous training to ride another long distance this season and decided to register for Liege-Paris-Liege, 500km version. This would be my first multi-day race and I was curious to see how I would manage this type of effort.
This would be my first multi-day race and I was curious to see how I would manage this type of effort.
Fast forward two months later, I’ve been sick and off the bike for two months and I believe I can forget about the planned race. I’m a little disappointed, but my priorities have shifted and I’m happy with just being able to go out for a 30km ride in the Sonian Forest when that is finally the case. Six weeks before LPL, I start riding again and I feel surprisingly good, the legs are still there, only my cardio is really bad. Even longer days in the saddle are enjoyable, though I still need more time than usual to recover. A spark of hope appears inside, I feel joy when I think about riding LPL. Is it riding my bike again and having a feeling of going back to normal after a deep low? The excitement to try something new?
I decide to give it a try, to go to the start line with the main goal of not putting too much pressure on myself and not getting back home in pieces or injured. I keep telling myself “It’s okay if you don’t finish, it’s also interesting to learn how you manage a DNF because this will happen again” and I’m happy about the opportunity to further test and improve my setup for a future race. I’m very good at pushing myself and this is maybe harder for me than telling myself I will get to the end, no matter what it takes (or breaks).
After a relaxed welcome by the team in the inner courtyard of the youth hostel in Liege and the briefing, we all go to bed for a short night. Breakfast is served at 5AM and at 6 o’clock we all leave together, a dozen of flashing lights and yellow hi-vi vests riding into the day, onto rue Pierreuse, the first climb out of 93, according to my GPS. I’m at the beginning of the peloton before the bell rings, but the start on the roundabout is chaotic with busses and trucks and I end up riding around it again, so I’m nearly last within the first minute, staying true to myself aha 😉
Maybe it would have been easier for me to accept a DNF than to face the fact that I just can’t do it at some point.
Getting out of Liège is hilly, ugly, and maybe I’m not totally awake yet but it takes me more than 70km to finally get into the race and start to enjoy it even just a little bit. My mind is all around the place wondering about a thousand reasons not to finish, and maybe it would have been easier for me to accept a DNF because “I don’t want to be too exhausted afterwards” than to face the fact that I just can’t do it at some point. Luckily I know the mind is just the mind so I observe it and for the first time in the race I tell myself “Nothing lasts forever, this too shall pass”. This sentence will quickly become my mantra and help me reach the finish line 60h later. During the first part, Catherine and I where never too far away from each other and we would meet in cemeteries or on the climbs. We’re facing a heavy headwind for 160km as we ride from Liege to the first checkpoint in Dinant, up a horrible and useless climb, good for the first hike a bike (thank you SPD-cleats); and then to the second checkpoint in Bouillon. After 160km, I’m looking forward to see faces at the top of the climb to the castle –easy, compared to Dinant- , but no one’s there, I even check the track to see if I went far enough. I don’t want to miss a part of the mandatory parcours.
Okay then, no other humans, no time lost, let’s go back down where the Colruyt was part of the plan. After a good refill, both of food and encouraging messages from my dotwatching friends, I’m heading to Martelange for the night, that would be 230km in the race. Headwind should be over now, but the hilly parcours is getting real and I don’t really progress faster than on the first part. More than 3500m of elevation in, it’s getting dark and I keep going with only one thing on my mind: Martelange. Neal from BBB is also on the race and calls me to tell he’s got a room in Martelange which is giant and has two mattresses, and he saw my dot going that direction too. There would have been no greater motivation to get me there and I continue riding into the night, through the woods. The parcours is a bit more flat on this section and just as I feel a bit down, I see three deer in just a few minutes, taking away my breath for a few moments and filling me with wonder. Once in Martelange, a 100m elevation cotacol awaits me to get to the room and I talk to my boyfriend on the phone while I hike a bike up that street. Neal has arranged everything and separated the beds, I can just take a shower, try to get in some food before I go to sleep. Thank you Neal!
I leave at 6AM the next day after more than 5 hours of sleep, the roads are very steep from the first kilometers on and Jordy and Sam catch up on me and we share how brutal this is in the early morning. We will pass each other time and time again before losing sight in the evening. As the hours go by, my legs are feeling good, I manage to fuel properly and to refill water often enough. It’s getting hot and the climbs are tough. There’s no easy moment, you climb for 30 minutes, go down for 5 and then start climbing again, with a heavy, loaded bike.
Though my second mantra is “You don’t have to go fast, you just have to go”, I start doubting when I’m only at KM85 6 hours after I left. How the hell will I get to the end at that pace? If I can’t make it on time, what’s the point in continuing this suffering? What am I doing here? I nap on a bench along a river and the sound of a GPS wakes me up, seems like my spot was attractive to Olivier who joins me. It’s nice to share a few words and to remind ourselves that everyone is probably having a hard time on this parcours. The powernap was good but my mind keeps wondering why I’m still in the race. Laetitia and Vincent appear and we ride together for a few minutes. After her crash with a bus getting out of Liege, she’s in a lot of pain and needs to stop and stretch every few kilometers. She tells me if she can continue, I can definitely too. They remind me about the farm where we can resupply and this gives me a goal that’s within reach. For the first time, I see part of the staff and Marie comes to me asking how things are going. After a brief check, I realise legs are good, food management is good, I’m making progress and am still on time even if slow, I have everything I need, nothing hurts, so actually everything is fine and nearly couldn’t go any better.
Here we go again.
Apparently I was tired of making decisions because I couldn’t decide which place was best to hide from the weather, and the clouds were getting darker every minute...
At first I was aiming for another 200-220km for the second day, but the slow progress and the thunderstorm in the evening make me stop in the parc Vogelsang in Germany, after 180km. When I thought about scratching the first day, I asked myself why I was doing this race and one of the answers was “to try out a night in a bivy bag”. Perfect answer to keep me going, because then I couldn’t scratch before the night because I had to try it at least. As I slept in a hotel the first night, this still kept me going the second day, how wonderful is that. I knew the place Vogelsang and assumed I would find a place to shelter from the storm there, so after a beautiful sunset ride along the water and an awful climb all the way up to Vogelsang, I started looking for a place to hide. On the climb I met another rider from the 1000km, when I asked him how far he was planning to go that night, he simply said “I’m tired of this shit, I’m going straight to the finish line”. Well, we all have different strategies! Give me a good night of sleep instead.
Apparently I was tired of making decisions because I couldn’t decide which place was best to hide from the weather, and the clouds were getting darker every minute and I was about to get in the middle of the storm just because I was so slow to settle. Hurry up, Mag! Now! Ok, back down that way, I think it was there. Standing under the roof of the shelter, the rain starts pouring down. Is the roof leakproof? Yes. Install bivy for the night. Being thankful for the roof above my head, for this quiet place, the moon in front of me, and for not being afraid alone in the middle of the night.
I’m a zombie when I have an ice cream just before la Redoute climb. Some girls cheer me up in la roche aux faucons, the last climb of the parcours !
I’m running short on water and know I won’t be able to resupply soon, so I need to leave Vogelsang with full bottles, but everything is still closed at 5AM. I know a building that hosts groups for overnight stays, so I quietly ride to that building and try to open the front door. Thank god, it’s open. I take all my bidons and water bottles, sneak in and rush to the kitchen, get water and leave as a happy kid. Best move so far, I wouldn’t have had a place to refill in the next 40-50km.
It’s sunday and I just have 160km left. This is a distance I can manage. For the first time, my mind acknowledges I might be able to finish and I feel strong mentally. Now it’s just a ride back to Liege. I feel nauseous but know it’s often the case early in the morning and expected digestive issues even earlier, so I try to switch to liquid food intake. Coffee, Coca-Cola, protein shakes and bananas. The first part of the ride is less hilly and I deeply enjoy every part of it, it’s beautiful and I love being in Germany. I’m starting to count down the remaining climbs (remember the 93 indicated by the gps), but the 100 last kilometers feel so slow. Crossing Spa is getting on my nerves because of a car rally happening, just let me finish! A bit further I’m between laughter and tears riding through a tractor weighing fair. I still feel nauseous and it increases with the intense effort on the climbs, but my legs are impressively okay.
I’m a zombie when I have an ice cream just before la Redoute climb. Some girls cheer me up in la roche aux faucons, the last climb of the parcours ! I start recognizing a bridge in Liege, and know from the map when I reach the water, I’m nearly there. Even that part seems long with all the pedestrians in my way, and I imagine how it will be like to arrive. Leaving the water, taking the street with the cobblestones, on to the next roundabout, one more turn and I’ll be there. I hear people clapping in their hands, screaming my name. The team is there, I see Salome who had been waiting for me after her own race, pushing me in the back towards the inner courtyard, where it all began. I enter the courtyard and all of a sudden, time stands still. About 50 other participants are applauding and cheering, for what feels like a full minute. I’m still on the bike, in the middle of all these people, crying. All the pressure comes out, a deep sense of relief, but also so much happiness, the realisation of what one is able to do and how much more we can do than what our mind makes us believe we can, the pride after difficult months, the warmth I feel inside from all the support, from my friends and family from home, from all the other amazing souls here and from the cycling friends who understand what this means and how insane this is. From all the mental pictures I had from the finish line, not one came even close to the overwhelming emotions I really feel in this moment. This is about so much more than cycling and teaches us about ourselves and how we stand into our own lives. Maybe I ride because I love being on the bike, and maybe I even love who I am when I am on the bike.
Thank you to the team for the organisation, for your warm welcome, your support, your smiles and the shared moments. Thank you to all the riders I met on the road, thank you Neal, Salome and Guillaume for your very close support and thank you to all those messaging from home, it means a lot to me.
Magali Clerbaux
