1 post tagged “250km”

The first couple of days really did feel like a holiday. Once we got out to the desert, registration day involved a surprisingly busy morning of packing and repacking of bags following the advice to 'bin it' when pointing to most items in our rucksacks; the weighing ceremony where my bag weighed in at 13.5kg including bottle of water, a game of skittles, much banter and a recce to a first sand dune to test out my gaiters. A real bonus of the Sahara is that everyday is a BEAUTIFUL day, so it's important to enjoy what sun bathing you can do. The flip side of the coin is that it also seems to be always windy, so you risk getting a mouthful of sand if not careful. Patrick 'Jack' Bauer also gave us a briefing and presnentation in the evening - pretty boring really but great to see everyone excited about the race.

The daily routine started the next morning, the first race day. Wake up around 6am, freezing in your sleeping bags, and hope the Berbers don't come to quick to lift the tent off you whilst still snoozing. When finally up, get the kettle on to make your bag of porridge, pop to the loo to 'lighten the load', tape up feet, pack your bag and head over to the starting line-up. 'Jack' does his daily speech, birthday announcements, race news, then we get some pumping music to fire us up. It was amazing to see everyone jumping up and down, raring to go each morning, right through to the last day when we should really be conserving our energy! Race starts, and the next few hours are relatively quiet - just concentrating on watching where your feet go, focusing on the job in hand, admiring the beautifful scenery, and some bonding with fellow runners. About 25% of the course was on sand and dunes, and otherwise a cominbation between hills (some VERY steep), plains, big, flat basins, dried lakes and rivers and a lot of very rocky terrain - real ankle-breaking stuff. Check points were the highlights of each day. Guaranteed smiles and friendly receptions by the doctors and controllers (all the controllers, docotrs, nurses and staff are volunteers - they enjoy the race as much as we do - a truly virtuous circle), more water, a quick rest, a bite of your power bar, and on you go. Again and again and again. Typically a great big obstacle to get over to make sure you are properly exhausted a few km's from camp, and then the finish. Collect you 3 bottles of water (your ration until the following morning), head to your tent, kit off, and relax. Inspect feet - the unfortunate ones head off to the Doc Trotters. 'Tentmail' is delivered early evening to boost morale over dinner (more feeze dried food, but tastes great out there), and then bed around 8pm. And this was our routine for 7 days.

A few points that really stood out (but the whole thing is one BRILLIANT memory):

Day 1.
Thinking I had done quite well depsite having walked most of the day, getting back to our tent (No. 77 - you keep your tent and tent mates for the week), seeing Duncan and Blake (fine with that) and SUSIE!!!!!! So proud for her and her awesome perfomance, but boy did I feel under pressure! Couldn't possibly run the risk of losing the race to her! All of a sudden, the Marathon des Sables had transformed itself from a 'must complete' event to a 'must finish ahead of Susie and get a good position event'. 463rd on day 1 (757 participants in total) was not good enough, and I set my sights on coming in the top 250.

Day 2.
A day of magnificent scenery. Was going so well. First 30km a whole hour faster than day 1. And then we have to cross a 10km basin and for as far as the eye can see a vertical wall at the end. But the road book showed that we had to go over a 'steep' mountain. But there was NO way up - from a distance it was an impentrable barrier between us and camp, 3km over the other side. As we got closer, you begin to see the way up. 'Deep breath - this is going to be a bitch' you say to yourself. Through the checkpoint, a little banter with the controllers about this 'surprise' (the feature is the toughest obstacle in any MdS course they run), and up we go. Slowly. Even more slowly, as it gets steeper and steeper, not only rocks but sand too - the steep sort that lets you slide down the ground you just covered. Then your scrambling up the rocks, hands and feet. Shouts from above as small rock slides are started. More shouts from above - someone in distress. 'Use the flare', someone shouts, and up it goes to alert the need for a doctor as someone collapses of exhaustion and dehydration. Properly demoralising stuff, and my only thought is to keep my head down and get to the stop in one piece. I do, the view is worth every effort, and we can even see camp - just a trecherous descent down a gorge and sand dunes to cross before us. Thanks Jack!

Day 3.
About 1km from check point 3, I feel a bit of an energy drain. I had been running with Blake and Neo (tent mates), but at the check point I take 10 minutes to rest, empy my shoes of sand, eat my cashew nuts and a peperami, have a good drink, then set-off. Apart from the previous days mega-hill, this is my first 'low moment' and it scares you, hoping it is not a sign of what is more to come. 15 minutes after leaving CP3, I feel good. So good, that I slip into a great rhythm and power up a long stretch of dunes over-taking loads and finish strong. Chuffed.

Day 4. aka 'The Lond Day'.
This day is what the MdS is all about. It would not be half has tough with out the double marathon stage in the middle, in the heat, in the sand, and in the dark (it goes on for that long!). The whole race up to now has been all about getting to day 4 in good shape. Complete day 4, and you're good as home and dry. But it's a looooooooooooonnnnnnnnng way. So 30km into the race I hook up with some dutch friends from a nearby tent. 45km into the race we're having fun - Philip (not me, one of the dutch) is running down dunes and throwing himself in the sand and rolling around for a laugh. Were we delirious? Hope not! Lahcen Ahasil and younger brother Mohammed (the two race leaders) glide past us - they don't run, they glide, fast. Exactly twice as fast as me in fact!

55km in, the sun has gone down, we crack open our glow sticks. This is the moment that morale should plummet, along with deep exhaustion, and have the personal crisis that the MdS is known to give you. The angel and the devil playing in your mind: 'Give up', 'Go on'. This experience was one of the main reasons I wanted to compete in the MdS. To put myself through the biggest challenge I have ever faced (yet so small compared to what others supported by Mencap experience) and see how I react. But I am dissapointed. I feel (relatively) good. The dutchies and I all do. We run about 25 of the last 30km and come into camp after 12 hours of running, evading the real tough thoughts and experience. Just huge relief is what you feel. Duncan and Blake arrived  20mins ahead of me, the rest (Neo, Pete, Muzza and Susie) roll in up to 1am. My feet, knees, legs all ache and can't really sleep. Wind is blowing hard. So I accompany Susie to making some dinner when she gets in - a midnight feast!

Day 5. A day of rememberance for Bernard Jule.
Camp is assembled in the Oval (ring of competitors' tents) late morning. Jack tells us of the tragic news that Bernard Jule, a french competitor, had died. He was one of the elite, top 50 runners. He never showed any symptoms, complained of pain. He woke up at 3am to welcome back some of his tent mates just coming in, took some sleeping pills to go back to sleep, never to awake again. We all hold a minute of silence to remember his family and friends. Whatever the cause of his death, this proves to be a stark reminder that the body can be so tough, put up with unimaginable stress and exertion, but can also be so fragile and dictate its own terms.

At 4pm someone comes round camp to tell us the last runner is about to come in. The whole camp gets up and heads for the finish line to greet them in. A loud chorous of whistles, claps and cheers and the runner is virtually carried over by Lahcen and another elite competitor. A special feeling for all of us, pulling together. The race is not about beating each other, but more about helping each other complete.The last runner was in pieces.

Day 6. Marathon day.
A great day, feeling good, and run hard. Equal to a 4hr marathon pace, but the dunes and check points slow us up a little. Magical scenery of the red Merzouga dunes (highest in Morocco) are seen floating on a lake (a mirage). I come in 136th - a cracking result and assures my top 250 position.

Susie's feet are really, really bad by now. The toughest girl in the world has her feet operated on for 2hrs by the doctors. Laughs, tears, more laughs and more tears. All I can do is offer a hand to be squeezed and crack the odd joke. My complete and utter respect and admiration (she had won it long before) goes out to her again. My feet were fine, making the race relatively easier, but for those with feet like Susie's (and hers were genuinely amongst the worst of any competitor) the race must have been so much tougher.

But a consolation. The Paris Opera come to play for us all in the desert. And what a setting it was!

Day 7.
A lot of excitement, a hard run over the Merzouga dunes, and over the finish line. 224th. Shattered, but so full of adrenalin and excitement you don't ever realise. I shed a single tear, of joy for completing what had been my focus for the past 15 months, and of sadness that something that I loved so much has come to an end.

Other thoughts:

Positivity.
One of the great qualities of the race is everyone's attitude. EVERYONE - doctors, nurses, controllers, camp staff and competitors - are volunteers. And EVERYONE has put a lot of effort into the race. The result is one big ball of positive energy rolling through the desert every day. So rarely did I hear a negative comment, a moan, a complaint, despite the hardships that we go through. The MdS is a very happy 'world' to be in, and one we can all learn from.

What would I do differently/ change?
Run harder - top 150 is achieveable. Take less medical supplies to lighten the load a wee bit. But in short, thanks to Mencap, friennds, family, MdS vets that have shared their wisdom, I was pretty well prepared.

Camaraderie.
This was in abundance. And 1st quality. With electric banter, never was their a dull moment - we laughed so much, and I have my tent mates to thank for this.

What now?
Always have a goal to keep you going. Mine is to climb Mt. McKinley (6500m) in Alaska in spring 2009.
Feel good - in my training, never in my life had I done so much exercise yet needed so little sleep.
Party, relax, and chase girls!"