The 24 heures du Mans is one of the iconic sporting events. This year saw the 77th running of the event, which is – as the name suggests – a race run over 24 hours, from 3pm Saturday until 3pm Sunday.
More often than not, the Le Mans race is ample proof that Aesop’s tale of the hare and the tortoise is correct. Winning a race over 24 hours is a complex combination of not going too fast, careful strategy and luck.
I loved this quirky lesson about life long before I got ill with Crohn’s disease, but Le Mans has continued to fascinate me and always will be my highlight of the sporting year.
My life is divided up into small challenges, bigger challenges and absolutely gigantic challenges, and my trip to Le Mans definitely falls into the later category. My weekend was planned like a (well-planned) military campaign – completely timetabled, essentials packed for all eventualities and eating only jelly-sweets and drinking only water and energy drinks.
Whilst most other people were getting drunk or getting indigestion, my concentration was fixed on the race. I stayed up all night, took a trip into the forest to see the cars up close and I had an absolutely superb time.
I think it has been being ill that has encouraged me to grasp opportunities and do things I dream of doing. Coming to live in France has been one of those things. Going to Le Mans is another – I am delighted I was brave enough to go.
