A week after returning from my beech holiday, it is time to start reflecting on the experience. My dad did a great job keeping you up to date while I was away so I will not go into the technical details of each day; the plan is to give a summary of the experience, as a follow up I will rate my kit and the lessons learnt for anyone running the MDS in 2013.
Crossing the finish line I vowed I would never do anything like this again and described it as the worst week of my life (which I could control). Funny how a week on, I am missing the desert, my tent mates and actually want to be back in the Sahara, on reflection it was an amazing week.
Before I went I just could not grasp why it was considered as being such a hard race, why it had the reputation as the toughest foot race in on earth. OK a marathon a day with a double marathon thrown in on day 4 was not going to be easy but training camp with rowing on most days saw more hours of training than I would be out on the sand running.
I still don’t think the distance is what made this event so hard for me, training, working hard, pushing myself, to some level I had done many times before, but after it, I was able to go home, have a good meal, hydrate, shower and sleep. In the middle of the Sahara, you finish the days running, return to a rug on a rocky hard floor covered by an open bit of wool held up with some tree branches, eat a freeze dried meal mixed with sand, which still make me feel sick to think about, not able to wash, get into a sleeping bag in the same cloths I have had on for however many days and not sleep due to the cold, hard rock’s sticking in your back and random pains from the days running. If you were lucky a sand storm would wip up, if you did fall asleep you would walk up suffocating in the amount of sand you had swallowed and taken into your lungs.
The two things I had been worried about and preparing for were the heat and blisters. Neither of which actually caused me any problems, despite temperatures hitting close to 53 degrees one day and running across surfaces designed to rip up your feet, I spent most of the week feeling cold and have only minor blisters and one toenail lost. I am still not sure why I am starting to think this was an amazing experience, probably because most of the days I absolutely loved the running. I am really really pleased with some of my days finish positions and way above the places I should have been getting for the amount/ lack of training I did before arriving out in the desert. I did one 20 mile run with my backpack and I ended up running next to professional endurance athletes who had trained for months/ years for the event. Although I still can’t believe I finished so high on some of the days, I am still a bit disappointed with my overall finish of 78th.
Total stage time
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3.48.25
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4.04.09
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3.35.31
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13.30.32
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5.03.23
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1.34.31
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Stage position (900)
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61
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34
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37
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161
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168
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29
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Stage speed km/h
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8.93
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9.58
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9.74
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6.07
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8.31
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10.19
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Cumulative time
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3.48.25
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7.52.35
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11.28.06
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24.58.38
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30.02.01
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31.36.15
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Overall position (900)
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61
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42
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35
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76
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79
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78
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GBR position (250)
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8
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4
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3
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10
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11
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11
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We flew out to the desert on Thursday, as usual I was very quiet and did not really make much of an impression on people, mostly pottered around the airport alone and kept my head down, I am not a party starter or loud and outgoing when you first meet me, I tend to be someone that keep the party going once it is up and running. When we landed in Morocco I started talking to a really nice guy, Alan, who turned out to be someone I had been chatting to for a couple of months on Twitter leading up to the event. Me and 250 Brits spent the first night in the city where we landed, setting off on the 6 hour transfer in
to the middle of the desert the following day. Arriving at the first camp we had 2 days to settled into out tents, acclimatise, repacked and packed our bags some more and get used to sleeping in the cold. Alan was part of the part of the MenCap extreme team who all became my tent mates for the week; I gate crashed the party but running it alone, It was great they took me in and I really appreciate the support from all in tent 72 and also the MenCap guys in Tent 73. They often brought a smile to my face when it got really tough.
Stage 1 – it has traditionally been a shorter, fairly easy stage which allows people to settle in and get used to the desert and also takes account that the backpacks are at their heaviest, now about 8.5kg with all the additional kit you get on arrival. This year, they decided they would change that. The stage was longer, had 2 extreme climbs up 2 Jebeles and an unforgiving terrain, the heat also crept up to nearly 50. More people dropped out on day one than had had to pull out over the entire week the year before. New to the Desert, the first day was not fun and I ended up walking parts; a bit disheartened I could not contemplate how I was going to get through the week; until I saw the result later in the evening. 61st, I could not believe it, this was well inside the top 200 I was aiming for and I still had no blisters, did not fell too bad and by bag was only going to get lighter from here on in.
Stage 2 - by far, my most enjoyable day in the Sahara, a distance a smidging short of full marathon run over a wide variety of terrain, high deep sandiness and flat salt beds. Off the start I got a bit carried away and ended up leading the race for a short time. O dear, this is not sustainable, running ahead of the grate Mohammad Ahansal created a sudden feeling of dread, I put on the breaks and settled into a more sustainable pace. I lost a lot of places in the Dunes, mainly to MDS veterans who had already discovered how to patter quickly over the top of the sand rather than sink deep every step, something that took me almost a week to learn. About half way through the stage, I had the same feeling as the day before; I was tiring quickly and really wanted to walk. I had a choice, go bold and run this, make people proud at home and test my theory, anything is possible, or walk and get through it in a reasonable time. Something in my brain switched on and I went for it, I ran the rest of the race with a massive smile on my face, I did not think about anything profound, I just wanted to make the people at home proud, When racing in coxed boats a Cox used to make us sit up and do it for London (RC), Everytime I wanted to slow due to the pain in my ITB, I kept this in my head and carried on, over a 12K salt flat where temperatures hit 53 degrees, I picked people off one by one, regaining all the places I lost in the dunes , I lost 3 places 20 meters before the finish line due to a bad cramp in my foot, feet swell and I had tied my shoe laces too tight. But even so, I couldn’t believe I had finished the stage in 34th place.
Day 3 - Dune day, this is going to be hard. It was, it felt like an eternity of dunes, Jebeles and hills. I had moved into 42 places overall on combined results from day 1 and 2. I had originally set myself a challenge of making the top 50 by Stage 4. A day the elite runner set off 3 hours after the mass group, this alone is a massive achievement but I had not thought it possible and dropped the aim down the priority list due to injuries. Being in 42 position with only a day of sand between me and the top 50 I went for it, that day, I ran harder than I had every run before, I really pushed myself and never stopped to walk once, I kept thinking about the same things as the day before, I wanted to be in the elite top 50, and suddenly it had become possible. I did not think about stopping at any point, the dunes where hard, very hard, not only did I have my pack full of bricks on my back, the dunes make it feel like you are dragging someone along whom is gripping onto your ankles, energy sapping is an understatement. But finishing that stage and being told I finished in 37th position was incredibly emotional and I do have to confess I did have a small tear under my sunglasses. I think for the first time in my life I felt like I had over achieved. I had hit a goal I had set myself which I thought would be like every other goal, out of reach and leave me feeling disappointed with my performance. Up to day 3 I had given the race absolutely everything; and I was more than happy with my result. Only a week before my consultant had recommended I pull out due to injury and here I was sitting in sitting in 35th position overall and setting off with the elite top 50, not scrapping in, but well placed and in less than 24 hours I would be running with some of the worlds elite ultra endurance athletes; this was a dream come true and I had run my heart out to get there.
Stage 4 – Normally, I would get up at 5am ready to line up on the start for 8:00 – 8:30. I had a stricked routine around eating, hydrating and sorting out my feet. Knowing I would be going off 3 hours later I decided to stay laying on my stones for a few extra hours, make the most of a later start ahead of the 82km stage, not only was it 35km further than I had ever run before but also featured over 42km of soft sand and dunes, most of the rest; Jebeles and rocky terrain. About an hour before the main group started, the prick in the pink trousers rocked up to the tent (a Best of Morocco Rep more suited to being an unemployed Butlins red coat who lost his job because he was so unhappy, than a representative who was meant to be supporting athletes taking part in the largest challenge of their life). He announced that no one in tent 72 was in the top 50 and proceeded to move on. Paul another guy in our tent should also have been on his list, at most he only had 5 GBR people to inform about start times and he even got this wrong off his list, Paul turned out to be on the list, I however, was not. He had no interest in sorting it out and continued to amble around annoying people in the camp. I went to the reception tent where I was received by a group of French people pretending they did not understand English, and proceeded to insist that the computer said “No”. The list was just names, not the list published the night before with a clear breakdown. I was told I had to go off at 8:30 and I was wrong. By this point I had worked myself up into a state, not eaten, drunk or checked the map book for the route. I had less than an hour to do all three; force feed myself half a pack of porridge and gulped down water.
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| The Jebel I climbed twice (People are the specs on the top) |
I made it to the start line in time thanks to my tent mates, but by no stretch of the imagination mentally ready to take on 50+ miles of hell. Off I went determined to prove a point. I opened up a significant lead on the field and lost sight of the group, I entered the first set of Dunes heading towards a pass up a huge Jebel. I part climbed this to find a group of people heading in another direction in the distance, unfortunately for some, a few people had followed me the wrong way. We did manage to make our way back down the Jebel over sand dunes and back up the correct pass. I had been passed by over 50 people in my de tour and I could guarantee the 50 people setting off at mid-day would also post faster times to the first checkpoint. Somewhere between the first and second checkpoint I fell apart, I had no motivation to continue or do well, I started being sick at checkpoint 2 and simply gave up the fight, a guys I had talked too along the way tried to drag me along but found it near impossible to run. I had not eaten properly in 4 days, dehydrated, tired, With my mind not in the right place, as I had found the day before, I could run and run some more, I had been running on empty for a while but with my mind in the correct place I could perform regardless, talking this away, I could not perform. By checkpoint 3, Matt, one of my tent mates had caught me up, he had been consistently strong and got on with the job, from checkpoint 3 onwards, Matt kept me going right the way through to the last checkpoint, 12 hours in, we reached checkpoint 6, only 12km from home, I had not eaten and struggled to drink, I just had to go, I had to get home, I found the will to run, and went for home, I did not stop, look back or think about anything else but finishing this 82km of hell, 13.5 hours later, I collapsed across the Finish line and through up what looked like black tar. Just as I started to think the nightmare was over, the worst sandstorm of the week picked up, suffocating sand battered us all night and well into the next day, ending with an electrical storm and a hail storm. I finished the stage in 161st position dropping to 76th overall.
It turned out that apparently a sand storm caused a problem with the computers conveniently replacing and number of GBR and FR runner with other nationalities. It may have been a genuine computer glitch; my view is that they wanted wider international representation in the top 50 for increased media coverage.
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| The lights never got closer |
When I talk about my disappointment with my final position, it is due to Sage 4. Firstly, the issue should not have happened at a large international sporting event which cost so much, secondly, I am disappointed with myself, with 5 years experience of competing in high profile events; I should have been able to deal with this better. I just don’t feel like I truly gave it my all, maybe if I had gone off in to top 50 I would have gone too hard and been pulled out the event, but maybe I would have been writing this blog with a top 50 position.
Stage 5 – Arriving at the start line of stage 5, the Marathon stage, so called because it is exact marathon distance; I was not exactly in the best shape, I had not eaten since the half packet of porridge before the start of stage 4 and drinking water really made me gage; my ITB felt like it was about to snap it was so tight. I did run most of the stage although I had to walk down the massive dunes, my ITB was absolute agony and 8km before the finish I finally relinquished and took a pain killer, I was hoping to complete without any. The pain had built and the second tear of the event rolled down my face, I cursed, moaned and yelled through from checkpoint 3 – 4. The one thing that kept me going was Mr B Ulliott’s voice in my head telling me that it was “the hard mans quarter” something normally in reference to 1 minute 38s between 1000 meters and 1500 meters on a 2k test, this quarter just happened to last nearly 2 hours and be quarter of a marathon. Again, I made it to the final checkpoint and managed to switch off the pain, running to the finish and making up a chunk of time. I finished the stage in 168th place, my worst placing, but not at all disappointed, marathon day is the last big hit out before the end everyone puts everything into it, it is not about place on this stage as the times are much closer and I did not lose too much considering the pain from existing injuries. I was again sick after finishing, this time just clear water, I got carted off to the clinic where I was threatened with a drip, luckily I was high enough placed that they did not drip me automatically, 2 hour penalty at this point would have been a disaster. Instead they agreed if I finished 1.5l of salt water, I would be allowed to continue, took me about 4 hours to do but I forced it down. Caring out an ultrasound, they did not discover I was pregnant but had a gastric blockage and an oversized bowel. I was being sick because I had run out of space to talk anything else in. Even though I still had not eaten since the start of stage 4 and struggling to drink they agreed to let me finish; only one stage to go!!!
Stage 6 – The last stage, included 10km over the highest dunes in Morocco, I cannot describe them. It was a mountain made of sand which you climb twice going up and again coming down. By this point I had become quite good on the dunes, I had learnt to patter over the crust on the sand rather than sinking every step. I had the best run of the event, Now I was so close, very very close to the finish I just ran, I finished the final stage in 29th place, looking at the photos, I don’t look at all well, but I finished, I think I found an answer I wanted, was I physically or mentally stronger? In this event on the most part mentally, on this stage without question I was mentally stronger, I ran on empty, I did not stop and I gave it everything I could possibly give it.
I would love to do the race again fitness with a good level of training and see just how well I could do. Maybe, just maybe in a few years time I will be writing this blog again, hopefully with a better outcome.
For now, I will take satisfaction in the fact I completed the “toughest footrace on earth” with a fractured Fibula, ITB Friction Syndrome and many issues with my knees including athritis and very limited training.
I have met some amazing people along the way, found out that being bold at times does pay off, hopefully I have inspired at least one child at Springboard to aim for their dreams, whatever the challenges they face. I have a realised even more than before what a fantastic group of friends and family I have, within this group I very much count the employees, volunteers and children of Springboard, what a special charity and a special group of people. And without the people around use helping us along out journey whatever it is, we can’t achieve anywhere near as much when do when we do it alone, even in a solitary sport like running; it was the influences of others on my life that got me to the end.
If you have not already - Its not too late to donate to Springboard
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| My Pack - I carried a postcard from a Springboard Child and the Logo sown to my pack to remind me why I was running the race. |
