Xavier Thévenard is in a class of his own. He is one of those men to whom destiny offers such challenges that, by taking them on, he inevitably becomes an inspiration: firstly, the UTMB, which he has won three times; secondly, Lyme disease, against which he has been fighting relentlessly for a year and a half now. Weakened by this insidious bacterium, which prevents him from enjoying his sport to the full, Xavier's life has since followed a sinusoidal pattern similar to the topographical profile of the ultra-trails that have seen him write his legend: his daily routine is made up of highs and lows, sunny summits and steep valley bottoms. 

Resilient and enduring, the Baouwer of the first hour, the one with whom we have forged such a special relationship, demonstrates an unfailing, bluffing determination. Why is this so? Because he knows better than anyone that the horizon is never as beautiful as up there, at the end of long climbs. A poignant exchange with this extraordinary athlete, who knows only how to speak from the heart. With an open heart  This illness is nothing more and nothing less than the longest and most difficult ultra I've ever been asked to run.'

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Our first question is a simple one: how are things going, Xav'?

If I answer quite honestly, I'd say that the current situation is nuanced. Nevertheless, I don't feel like complaining, or being complained about. Because modesty is part of my personality. And I have great admiration for those who know how to remain dignified. The current context also encourages me to put things into perspective: I'm far from being the most unhappy, my house hasn't been flattened by bombs... So mentally I'm fine, but to say that physically I'm in great shape would be a lie. Things are improving, but I'm having trouble getting rid once and for all of this bacterium that's been bothering me for almost a year and a half.​

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You mention modesty... Would you be prepared to go into more detail? How are the symptoms of this bacterium manifesting themselves at the moment?

(A silence, you can feel the sadness coming on) I've got nothing to hide. But it's painful to talk about. It even brings tears to my eyes. I'm on a veritable emotional elevator, as my physical condition yo-yo's. I alternate between episodes where I'm on the edge of my seat and episodes where I'm on the edge of my seat. I alternate between episodes when I feel really good, when I have the impression that this is it, the disease is behind me, and the slumps, the setbacks, which remind me that the fight isn't over... At that moment, you feel anger and frustration seizing you, as if you were experiencing a great injustice. I must admit, in a year and a half, I've taken a few knocks... But I'm getting back on my feet. What's the saying again? 

'The quality of a man is measured not by the number of times he falls, but by the number of times he gets up'...

That's exactly it. I remain extremely resilient and determined. I'm going to make it. I'm going to come back. This illness, it's nothing more or less than the longest and toughest ultra I've ever been asked to race.' It's going in the right direction for a very simple reason: I know the enemy better!' 

Do you feel better? Does it feel like you're getting closer to the end of the tunnel and back to full fitness?

Yes, it's going in the right direction for one simple reason: I know my enemy better! Lyme disease is a real enigma, in the sense that it is experienced in very singular and different ways by those who suffer from it. The challenge lies in understanding how your body reacts to treatments and activities... in order to put the bacteria into a state of coma so that it can no longer express itself! I've had a lot of discussions with athletes who've been through this turbulent period, and who've come through it with resilience. I'm ready to explore all possible avenues and go all the way around the question, until I come out the winner.​

Do you manage to keep physically active?

This bacterium doesn't prevent me from gardening, hiking, doing a bit of carpentry and a few odd jobs in masonry. It would be almost bearable if I didn't do ultra-trail at a high level. So I hang in there and play outside every day. Because it's good for me. It's essential for my balance. I continue to keep physically fit because I know that the body has a memory, and that this way, I won't have to go so far when things get better.​

In concrete terms, how do you go about training?

Let's say I do gentle endurance, alternating disciplines between cross-country skiing, cycling and running, at a rate of 15 to 20 hours a week. Rando-course, as we say in the jargon. I don't use any intensity. For the average person, this may seem like a lot, but to prepare properly for a UTMB, it's not enough!

Is this a difficult situation to maintain with regard to the partners who support you?

Yes, it's a delicate situation. Even if I consider myself lucky, since they're all extremely benevolent and invite me to take as much time as I need. I'm a little frustrated because I'm dying to get in there, run, perform, and repay the favor. I'd like to invest myself in my sport to the extent of their trust. But that's not up to me... Today, my professional conscience lies in my unshakeable determination to do everything possible to become competitive again as quickly as possible.' The flame will never go out. More than one would have put the arrow in, but I have too much passion and willpower for that.'

There's an unwavering determination in your voice. What is it that keeps the flame of hope burning, no matter what?

The flame will never go out. More than one would have put the arrow in, but I have too much passion and willpower for that. I can't explain it. It just comes from the gut. It's as if being able to play outside for hours on end proved to be an immutable condition for my happiness, and that I was therefore obliged to pursue it. Today, I'm having a great time marvelling at nature, but there's something missing. A taste for effort, certainly. I long for those beautiful bambées, those great crossings, which I used to look forward to like a kid having fun in a toboggan park.​

How do you escape? Has this illness forced you to open up to other projects? 

I cling to essential things, which then seem even more essential: my family, my loved ones, the Jura, a true love of nature, non-sports projects, doing my part of the work... I'm fully committed to the house project I'm working on with my partner Amélie..

It looks like a huge undertaking, but it's well worth it... Can you tell us more about it?

In 2020, we bought a very old lodge that we wanted to rehabilitate into a passive house, totally respectful of the surrounding environment. During the work, we found a door lintel dating back to 1663, as well as a wooden delivery note issued in 1843. It's even said that this small farmhouse served as a hideout for Maquis weapons during the Second World War. This building has a history, and that fascinates us. It should be ready in 2023. In the future, we'd like to turn it into a place for sharing and getting together, around trail riding and nature, and why not organize training courses... 'My diet hasn't changed fundamentally. It remains very healthy, focused on local and seasonal products, eaten as raw as possible.' 

Have you adapted your diet to optimize your chances of silencing the bacteria even faster? Have you made any adjustments or discoveries to your diet?

My diet hasn't changed fundamentally. It's still very healthy, based on local and seasonal produce, and eaten as raw as possible. However, I'm even more rigorous when it comes to micronutrient intake, which is fundamental to helping the body.

Has this difficult period changed the way you look at trail running and your vision of the sport?

Yes, on one very specific point: appreciating the good sensations even more intensely when they're there. It also makes you realize that you're ultra-vulnerable, that in the end you're no big deal, when you realize that such a small bug can hurt you so badly... As for trail running, I have to admit that I find it hard to follow the races and look at the results. It makes me sad, because I'd love to take part.

“I just want to be part of the party, enjoy the atmosphere, be just another runner and come full circle. I don't care about the place.” 

Does this vulnerability give you a fresh look at what you've already achieved? Do you look at your 3 UTMB victories differently?

That's a funny question... Because it's something I've been thinking about a lot lately. I wonder about it. These moments seem so far away that I wonder if I took full advantage of them. I think you did. I never dreamed of making a living from my sport, I only aspired to get a “good dose” of it, in the mountains, with friends. It all happened naturally, nothing was premeditated... On the other hand, I used to watch videos of my first victories in Chamonix to motivate me before a big training block, but now I avoid it. I want to concentrate fully on my recovery.​

Are you planning any competitions for the 2022 season?

I'm really looking forward to taking part in the 90 km of Mont-Blanc at the end of June. I've also got this flame dancing inside me at the idea of lining up again for the UTMB. I'm not thinking about results or performance at all. I just dream of setting off in the best possible conditions in relation to the opportunities that the recovery will offer me. I just want to take part in the party, enjoy the atmosphere, be just another runner and come full circle. I don't care where I finish. If I manage to finish this ride that's so close to my heart, at the end of August, it will mean that I've come a long way and that there are still days to come.

©Benjamin Becker 

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Confession of the partner by Xavier Thévenard

Xavier is a human being made up of matter and light, like each and every one of us. He's of average height by “standard” standards (which doesn't mean anything), with chestnut hair that changes color with the season, and eyes that go from blue to gray depending on the weather and his mood. Xavier's eyes are wide with curiosity and wonder, like a child's at the magic of the world he's discovering. 

He's a human who thrives on the only “real” thing in this world, NATURE, the one that created it, and that constitutes us all. He knows how to contemplate it and play with it, without forgetting above all to respect, protect and cherish it. For he knows the true value of everything: of a moment, of family and friends, of a winter breeze, of flowers that bloom anew, of every living thing around him that keeps the ecosystem running smoothly.

It's a biped that remains simple in its way of being, consuming and thinking, because nature works in a linear and cyclical way. We could compare it to a leaf, which is very simple in form and color, but also in its life cycle.

Birth, growth, maturity, decline and death. However, if we look closely at the complexity of this organism, for it to function, it needs photosynthesis, its roots to draw water. 

All these mechanisms are incredibly ingenious, but also highly complex. Xavier is like this leaf. Very simple on the outside, but very complex on the inside.

Isn't that what we're all like?

By Amélie Verguet​