Je suis Galerién! Why and how climbing a mountain in France makes you a better consultant

As a consultant, you often have to go the extra mile. Close to deadline, your customer asks you to chance the approach in your analysis. Or, some unforeseen event occurs and since you’re most trusted and beloved advisor, you have to deal with it. Training the ability to go the extra mile makes you a better consultant. Here’s a personal story of being able to go – or bike! – the extra mile.

The (lack of) preparations

My preparation for the event was far from optimal. Shortly before leaving for France, I had had to shorten my stay with a couple of days as I was asked to host two CEO-discussions at a conference. So instead of 6 days on the bike, I had to settle with 4. The plan was to climb the mythical Mont Ventoux four times in one day by myself and then use the rest of the days on day tours with the other bikers – a group of 40.

Exactly four years earlier, I had climbed the mountain three times, so I kind of knew what as was up to. Or so I thought! Climbing Mont Ventoux is a major biking thing. Actually, it’s so big that it has got it’s own club: Club des Cinglés du Mont Ventoux. The Mont Ventoux Screwballs. To enter the club, you have to climb the mountain three times in one day (the mountain is accessible from three villages) and you gain the tittle Cinglé ("screwball" or "crazy"), or three times on road bike and once on MTB (since there’s a forest track leading to the top too) thus becoming Galerién (Convict), or you might just want to do it six times in a day on your road bike (bicinglé – “double crazy”). As I was about to learn, I didn’t know what I was up for! I hadn’t studied the numbers which – as you might know – never lie. The club has almost 12.000 Cinglés. But only 600 Galeriéns! And even fever (200) Bicinglés. Clearly, doing Mont Ventoux three times in a day was tough. Doing it three times on a road bike AND one time on a MTB was way harder.

Now, with only four days in France, I had reduced my possible days of the climb with 33 percent. This is important because one of the reasons why Mont Ventoux is so mythical is - as the name (ventoux roughly translate to windy) suggests - the always blowing wind which - as the nick name (the bald mountain) suggests - you are totally exposed to on the last miles of the climb. Not only does the temperature drop considerably going up (the climb is 1600 meters, the top is at 1.912 meters, temperature drops apr. 0.65 degree for each 100 meter – you do the math…), but due to the wind, the wind chill value is often below zero. This matters especially going downhill, because you go fast literary without working and thus without any body heat whereas going up, that is no problem at all. If you feel cold, you just pedal a little faster! The point of all this being: You have to choose a day for your climb with as little wind as possible!

Another challenge to my preparations was that I was ill when I took off for France. I had a sour throat, I had (to the great relief of my fellow bikers!) completely lost my voice, and I was constantly coughing. The first night (Friday), I went straight to bed after supper … and after having checked the weather forecast that strongly suggested that I should do the four climbs on Sunday. Since I wasn’t fully recovered from my illness, this was bad news. It would have been far better to do the climbs on my last day, Tuesday.

The climb

I have a ritual before major sports events. I have run several marathons, been in various bike rides including La Marmotte, and completed a full ironman. Before each competition, my morning must follow a fixed scheme, at least when it comes to breakfast. I was counting on burning apr. 9.000 kcal so breakfast wasn’t trivial! It couldn’t be just “double espresso avec un croissant”. So on Saturday, the day before the ride, I bought – as my ritual has it – raw oat, raisins, fresh milk (the French UHT milk is awful, I have to say) and freshly squeezed orange juice. Luckily, my French was good enough to have the staff at the hotel put juice and milk in the fridge for the night. Unluckily, my French was too poor to have the staff get my fresh milk and juice from the fridge the next morning … However, I kept the raw oats and raisins in my suitcase so at least I was OK in terms of calories.

At 7.30 I was on my way up on the first climb at the first rays of sunlight going up from Malaucène where we lived. The plan was to do the four climbs in an average of 3 hours each including time for a meal. In order to do so, the climbs on the road bike should be completed in less than 2 hours, leaving ½ and hour for the descent and ½ an hour for a meal, and the first climb somewhat faster due to the fact that I would be far more tired in the last climbs. I completed the first climb in two hours, so 9.30 at the top I had to make my first adjustments. Not only was I slower than planned. I didn’t feel on top of the challenge either. So, I decided to go through the day on a diet I could eat on the bike.

The descent was – obviously – easy, and in Bédoin I changed to a MTB at a bike store. Since I had changed my menu so to speak, I was now 15 minutes ahead of schedule when I left Bédoin on the MTB feeling slightly optimistic. This would soon change! Going out of Bédoin, the climb isn’t too bad. So I kept up with the road bikes taking off for their climbs (Bédoin is by far the most popular climb of the three road bike climbs). However, when the ascent hit 8, 9 and 10 percent I immediately felt the weight of the MTB which is far heavier than a road bike. Furthermore, a road bike is stiff, designed to let all the power of your pedaling convert to speed. On the other hand, a MTB is designed to stick to the road on broad tires and absorb all bumps in the road and this obviously leads to loss of speed. After 8 km, I took a turn into the forest track and away from the many road bikes making their call to glory on their road bikes.

Alone in the forest

And what a difference that made! Now, I was the only bike on the climb! The first few miles, I was met by forest officers going up or down in their 4WDs. Then, it was all silence. At first, I was struck by the beauty. Then by the fact that if I crashed and made serious damaged to myself or the bike, I was pretty much f….. Meanwhile, the climb got tougher. I didn’t look at my watch. Partly because I wasn’t wearing any, but mostly I was scared what it might do to my motivation that I (obviously) was lacking behind schedule because I had seriously miscalculated how tough the climb on the MTB would be. Twice during the climb, I clicked out of the pedals and had a close to impossible restart as the track was so steep. Finally, close to the top, I caught up with to other MTBs. They had started from the top of the track, gone downhill for a couple of miles, and were now fighting their way back. They were both walking, pushing their bikes up the mountains. At least I was still pedaling, I thought. Half an hour later, I was at the top of Mont Ventoux for the second time that day. However, I didn’t feel victorious at all. I was leaning to my MTB, coughing up mucus and seriously wondering whether this might be the most stupid idea I’d ever had. The only reasonable decision, I thought, was to go down quietly and then bike “around the mountain” back to the hotel.

Point of no return

Either way, I had to return the MTB to the bike rental. So for the second time that day, I enjoyed the speed going down Mont Ventoux. I got my road bike back from the bike rental, and it was time to make the call. What the heck, I thought. I might as well go back to the hotel by climbing Mont Ventoux a third time instead of going around the mountain. And so I took off for the third climb. I had decided to continue but didn’t feel sure at all that this would take me all the way through. Two hours and 15 minutes later, I had made it to the top for the third time. I was clearly behind schedule. I didn’t feel bad, but I most certainly didn’t feel good either. The only sensible thing to do was to make a left and bike down to Malàucene. So eventually I made a right and went down to Sault for the fourth and final climb. In Sault, I allowed myself the luxury of having a cup of coffee while eating 100 grams of chocolate. Then, I took off for the fourth climb. Now, you should know that the climb from Sault is by far the easiest of the three road climbs in the beginning of the climb. However, six kilometers from the summit, the road merges with the climb from Bédoin making it just as hard, just as bald a climb with no threes in sight for the last 6 km. Furthermore, I was feeling tired and sick. Although I knew I had completed more than ¾ of my journey, it didn’t make me feel certain that I was able to finish it. This is how tough Mont Ventoux is! Even though you have defeated her three times in a day, you’re afraid to face her for a fourth and final climb. Furthermore, the dusk was closing in on me. I knew that it had to be a quick final climb, should the nightfall not end my adventures. 

So before I left Sault, I phoned my back up car to tell that I was setting out for the fourth climb, that it probably would be nightfall before I made it to the top, and that I would need extra clothes and bike lights should I make it down the mountain.

One should think that I was high on endorphins going up. But, honestly, I was still afraid that the mountain would break me. Surely, I could make it to where the climb got rough, six km from the summit. But could I keep pedaling all the way up?

Marathon runners know that they shouldn’t visualize all 42 km of the run. Instead, they should concentrate on the next mile. When I inaugurated the last six kilometers I didn’t visualized the entire, final climb. I simply didn’t dare. I didn’t even visualize the next mile or the next km. No, I simply counted every 100 m I managed to stay in the saddle. Each 100 m would mean that I was 1,5 percent closer to my goal. And so, I kept going, staying in the saddle, telling myself not to quit however much I wanted to as the darkness grew around me.

Two things kept me going on the last six km. Firstly, I knew that my back up car eventually would light up the road for me – and so it did with two km to go to the top. Secondly, bikers coming down the mountain, clearly on the same mission as I: another entry in the Club des Cinglés du Mont Ventoux shouted “bon voyage” at me in respect. The acknowledged my struggle. So I kept pedaling at 7 km an hour and finally made it to the top! And the rest is history: I got warm clothing and lights from the car, and started the descent. For the first time all day I felt certain that I would succeed. And I did. At 9.30 PM I was back in Malaucene. Now as the most happy Galerién ever.

How climbing Mont Ventoux makes you a better consultant

Well first and foremost you have proven you’re able to go the extra mile! Besides that, a few lessons learned are in order:

Be well prepared – and then adjust and improvise as the situation requires.

Round up a team of people you trust and then rely on your team. Actually, I wouldn’t have made it without the support of the car and the extra clothes from my fellow bikers.

Know, that you’re capable of far more than you normally think you are. 

As the going gets tough, break down your job in small task. Then solve them one by one. I didn’t finish the mountain counting km. I counted every 100 meters!

Keep going. Never give up. Eventually, you’ll make it to the top.