‘What if I told you that I hate running?’

In 1978, I went on my first bike trip with a friend, bikepacking from Luxembourg to Cattolica in Italy. At the time, I didn’t even have my own bike. But I was lucky enough to have a neighbour in Mamer called Nicolas Frantz. When I told him about my plan, he didn’t hesitate for a second to lend me one of his bikes. It was a wonderful show of solidarity. I think I’m mainly passionate about sport, and it’s given me a lot in return, as it’s allowed me to travel to some really unusual places that few people went to at the time, such as the German Democratic Republic (GDR) and Russia. That’s when I realised that sport could be a way of discovering the world in a different way.

Yes, for ten years now, we have been carrying out annual sports projects to support humanitarian causes. My first project was to support the Give Children a Future association in Cambodia and Open Hand Malawi here in Luxembourg. It was only after that that my wife and I decided to set up our own projects. In addition to the humanitarian goal, I have always sought to motivate the people around me from a sporting point of view, so that when they see my ‘achievements’, they think they can do the same.

My only publicity, apart from word of mouth and posters in my office, is a few interviews. Although I don’t have any followers on Instagram, these projects are a kind of annual event for my patients, and when they don’t see anything posted in my waiting room, they even come and ask me what my project is for this year. People are often surprised to see how much money my wife and I manage to raise just this way. The fact is that this support also pushes us, as organisers, to go the extra mile and always offer more to the people who trust us, in terms of projects or sporting achievements.

My wife and I tell ourselves that if we completed five projects last year, there’s no reason we can’t do seven this year! For the Open Hand Malawi charity, for example, the nuns who are my patients asked me to support their project.

They were looking for transport for people who needed to get to hospital. We decided to collect not only money but also bicycles, as I knew a Dutchman in Malawi who could make small trailers for the back of bicycles to turn them into bicycle ambulances! On the other hand, while word of mouth and my waiting room are great ways to spread the word, I’ve also seen the impact of interviews. I remember that, for Malawi, just by mentioning the project in an interview with a national media outlet, I received 258 messages from people willing to donate bikes. Over a thousand bikes were collected, in addition to a considerable amount of money.

The 2026 Tour of Africa was really at the top of my to-do list. It involves 99 stages by bike, starting in Cairo, Egypt, on 13 January and finishing in Cape Town, South Africa, on 30 April. As the registration fee is quite high, I decided to set up sponsorship requests. I think I will raise more money than I need, and I plan to donate the surplus to the non-profit organisation KeNako. It was founded by Patricia and Mike Franz, a Luxembourgish couple living in Cape Town, who run the orphanage. I have already been able to help this association in the past. Through my patients, their friends and their clubs, I was able to raise €25,000, which enabled us to add a floor to the orphanage in the township and install solar panels. I find it fascinating that we were able to achieve this just by putting up posters in a small waiting room!

The key is to know how to make do with the bare minimum. During the Marathon des Sables or extreme races, you can’t take anything with you, and all you need is a simple water hose to wash yourself. It was during these races, where you have to run carrying all your equipment, that my wife and I learned to take only the bare minimum, sometimes down to the last gram. I remember races where runners even threw away the aluminium from food packaging to save a little weight. These events require considerable effort, and you learn not to make things harder for yourself by carrying unnecessary items. When we set off on our bikes, we take almost nothing with us. A T-shirt, a pair of trousers, a toothbrush and a small sample of perfume. The only little ‘luxury’ we allow ourselves is that, at our age, we no longer sleep in tents (laughs). So, in the evening, we sleep in people’s homes or in hotels.

From a medical point of view, the people who talked to me about it at the office often put up barriers. They thought that having asthma, a hip replacement, having had back surgery or suffering from cardiac arrhythmia made it impossible. So I had to explain to them that I had asthma, a hip replacement, that I had also had back surgery and that I suffered from cardiac arrhythmia (laughs).

What if I told you that I hate running! When I was younger and playing handball, I hated running, it always bored me. Later, I bumped into my former national coach: he couldn’t believe I was taking part in races of more than ten kilometres, such as extreme marathons, when he couldn’t get me to run a metre when I was playing for him (laughs). It came gradually. I started running with people around me, first ten kilometres, then a half marathon. I started to enjoy it and found myself running marathons all over the world. The more I ran, the more I met people from all over the world who had even crazier ideas. It was through these encounters that we gradually started to think that if we could run a marathon, we could run a trail, then an even harder trail… It became an addiction, always looking for more challenges.

The diagonal of La Réunion: 168 kilometers in a single stage, which I completed in less than 38 hours. The best runners can do it in 23. I don’t focus on rankings or a specific performance. I have the build of a handball player and know that I’m actually much too heavy for running. The goal has always been to experience something and meet people. That doesn’t mean you don’t have to prepare for every race.

Yes. I have always loved meeting and interacting with other people. I remember a Russian cyclist who couldn’t speak. His traditional voice treatment wasn’t very successful, but he noticed that he could make sounds when he exerted himself to the extreme. These are things that shape you for life and make you realize how extraordinary sport can be as a driving force. During the Marathon des Sables, I met a runner with two prosthetic legs. When I meet people like that, I think I have no right to complain. That’s also why I don’t think I’m really an extreme athlete. When I climbed Kilimanjaro, there were some great professional athletes in my group who didn’t make it to the summit.

When people come to me because they are in physical pain, it is often the case that they are carrying around a psychological problem that is affecting their body. In recent years, I have noticed that many of my patients are afraid. Stress in everyday life, health problems… Sometimes during extreme competitions, I think I can’t go on. In moments like that, I talk to myself and ask myself what I’m really afraid of. I think of the people who would have liked to be able to do what I’m doing right now. And that’s enough to find the motivation I need to keep going.