The things we do for love.
Love is a strange concept; I think we can all agree it’s something more than ‘liking’ but exactly what I’m not any two people have the exact same definition.
I guess I’d define love as doing something that makes no logical sense or that really you cannot explain why you are doing something without using the word ‘love’ to describe it.
For me if there is one race and sporting event that optimizes the concept of love, and my friends will know there is one thing that I do that makes no logical sense it’s my desire for offshore sailing especially the single-handed variety.
Offshore sailing
Offshore sailing racing is one of the few sports where adventure and competition meet, it is alittle like running a marathon, long endurances races with a huge variety of external factors that can contribute to the outcome, where dinghy sailing is like running on a track in closely controlled conditions for short intense racing.
Half marathon in non-stop rain, not a smile in sight
Marathon running has its world major’s series including the London, Berlin, and New York Marathons where amateurs can be in the same race as professionals in iconic locations. Sailing has a series of events that make up the Rolex events, classic races including the Fastnet, Sydney Hobart and Middle Sea race where pros and amateurs can line up against each other for a 600-mile race in an iconic location. Offshore sailing, much like marathon running, can make you question why on earth you are putting yourself through such abject misery for a prolonged period because well on the face of it there’s not a lot to enjoy about offshore sailing. For most of the race you’re wet, cold, and hungry, you get minimal sleep and at some point, you are violently thrown about.
Phosphorus 2, a team clearly loving life, also not a smile in sight
The irony is that you ask your employer for days off that are classed as “holiday”, and you come back to work more broken than when you left for your supposed “holiday”. Then when people ask why you put yourself through that, the only response I’ve ever got is wow you must really love sailing to put yourself through all of that.
I’m not sure how anyone else explains Offshore sailing to their coworkers, I’ve tried to explain why I love it by using the how incredibly beautiful the night sky can be at sea, the peacefulness as your isolated on a small boat with just the tiniest vision of what’s around you removed from the problems of land with the sole focus on being going as fast as possible for as long as possible. The beauty of a sunset at sea or by the fact that you’re surrounded by dolphins for the most part. Which either makes me the most easily amused human or that I truly love sailing.
Going solo
Solo offshore racing is a lot of like fully crewed offshore sailing for the most part you’re cold, wet, and hungry, during the race you get minimal sleep and at some point, you’re violently thrown about. The only real difference is that there’s no one else to talk to about the fact you’re cold, wet, and hungry. Although as an only child I am very good at talking to myself about the fact I am cold, wet, and hungry.
The perks of being alone mean you get to take unlimited amounts of photos of a nice sunset or spend far too long trying to take videos of dolphins without someone shouting at you to focus on making the boat go fast. The other perk is that you get to sleep whenever you want without someone waking you because it’s your watch or in the middle of a lightning storm and the team on watch managed to loose control of the boat and your were thrown out of across the boat (I am really sorry Martin).
Aforementioned being violently thrown about.
In France there is a championship for people who love this side of the sport a little too much maybe, the French Elite Offshore Championship (commonly referred to Classe Figaro) and its center piece event La Solitaire du Figaro.
It takes this running marathon principle just one step further. Instead of the race being ‘just’ 600-miles, it’s made up of three 600-miles races, with only a couple of days in between each 600-mile race to recover. It is sort of like running a marathon then having a day off then doing another, taking a day off and then running another and the winner is the person who takes the shortest time to complete the whole thing. The strict nature of the rules limits the technological innovations allowed, meaning that it is nearly impossible for one person to have a massive speed advantage. Thus, the race comes down to the little details.
The race track of the 2023 edition of the race, 3 legs each over 600miles, each leg run at intensity of a 60 minute sprint race
It takes the clinical, highly scientific, and intense nature of high-level dinghy racing that normally you only must keep up for an hour and forces each sailor to keep this level going for 3 weeks.
Making it the ultimate physical and mental test. It’s the only race I’ve ever done that fundamentally changes you as person. For 3 weeks your brain is wired to search for the slightest bit of speed, fretting about every strategic decision and pushing yourself to the point of insanity (I will confess to going delirious in 2023 and at one point I was believed I was sat around a table, eating cheese with friends in London) .
33 crazy sailors, at the beginning of leg 3, pushing each other to the limit for 4 days without stopping.
What’s to ‘like’ about this race?
Well not a whole lot honestly
Now we get to the ‘why’ what possess a human being to put themselves through abject misery for 3 weeks.
Do I have any logical reason to explain why I wanted to race La Solitaire the first time? Nope.
Do I have any logical reason to explain why I kept racing and pushing myself for 3 weeks without stopping? Nope.
Do I have any logical reason to explain why I decided to move countries to chase this dream? Nope
Do I have any logical reason to explain why I can’t sleep at night because my mind busy thinking of what I can do better? Nope
Quite honestly if you use logic to explain doing La Solitaire, there are no reasons to do this race. It’s been said you must be crazy to want to do this race, and even crazier to put in the years of work to try to win. My answer to each of these questions above will always use the word ‘love’.
What on earth possesses someone to come back and do it again?
What made me want to come back to this most beautifully brutal of challenges? some says the race like a drug? The closest comparison I can think of is probably runners high, where you just feel incredible after (incredible albeit exhausted).
Finishing La Solitaire happy to have performed at a level I never imagine I am capable of!
And Sad that its over??? Surely not!
Will I race La Solitaire du Figaro in the future?
Yes, absolutely I will because I love it!