Murten-Fribourg, the race where clandestine runners blazed a trail

Morat-Fribourg is first and foremost a legendary race. A route between two Swiss cities, a popular, hilly event, deeply rooted in Fribourg's history. It commemorates the victory of the Confederates over Charles the Bold in 1476, and recounts the story of the messenger who supposedly ran from Morat to Fribourg, a linden branch in hand, to announce the victory before collapsing upon arrival. As often with great races, there is history, legend, and then what the runners make of it.

The first edition open to runners took place in the 1930s. Initially reserved for a few participants, Morat-Fribourg gradually became one of the great Swiss classics. Since 1996, it has been run over 17.170 km, with a demanding, hilly course that passes through Courgevaux, Courtepin, La Sonnaz, and Granges-Paccot before reaching Fribourg.

But for Spiridon, Morat-Fribourg is not just an old Swiss classic. It is a place of memory. A place of struggle. A place where popular running joined a broader fight: that of openness, equality, and the freedom to run.

In the early 1970s, women were still not officially allowed to participate. Some ran anyway. They slipped into the event, sometimes without a bib, sometimes under a male name. They didn't ask for permission. They ran. And this simple act became political.

At that time, running was not yet the open space it is today. Long-distance running remained monitored, supervised, sometimes forbidden to women. Running long distances, running on the road, running with men: all of this still seemed inconceivable to some officials.

It was in this context that Morat-Fribourg became one of those places where things began to change.

In 1975, a single scene perfectly encapsulates the spirit of that era. Odette Vetter took the start of Morat-Fribourg even though women were still not officially allowed to run the event. She ran under a false name, that of her husband, Joseph Vetter, who accompanied her on the road.

Both were "Spiridoniens." They were seen in Spiridon attire, with that jersey which had become the rallying sign of a generation of free runners: SPIRIDON, and the little man drawn by Karel Matejovsky. It wasn't just an outfit. It was a way of saying that running should belong to everyone.

The scene was even immortalized by RTS in a 1975 report. It clearly shows the discrepancy of the time: Morat-Fribourg was still a male bastion, women were clandestinely inviting themselves, and the race director was not in favor of their participation. But Odette and Joseph were there, among the runners. At the start.

This report says a lot.

A woman running anyway.
A husband running by her side.
Rules being circumvented.
A Spiridon jersey as a rallying sign.
And this very simple idea: running should be open to everyone.

Odette Vetter would later recount sprinting as she neared the finish, fearing she would be stopped. Today, that statement might almost seem unreal. But less than fifty years ago, for a woman to run a popular race could still be considered a transgression.

Two years later, in 1977, women and juniors were finally officially allowed to participate in Morat-Fribourg. That year, Marijke Moser (pictured in Spiridon) became the first female winner of the women's event. The race then changed dimension.

That's why Morat-Fribourg holds a special place in the history of running.

Morat-Fribourg is a race of memory, but also a race of emancipation. A race where the linden branch tells an ancient legend, and where the clandestine runners of the 1970s tell another victory: that of the right to run, all together.

This is also the Spiridon spirit.

Run with us.