Feet of Endurance
Standing in the check-in queue at Gatwick airport surrounded by lots of other nervous looking people all carrying the same red backpacks and cradling water bottles, it was clear that the event that has dominated my thoughts over the past few months was finally happening. There was a lot of the inevitable nervous glances comparing yourself to the others and thinking, “do I have the right kit, have I trained enough and am I really able to do this?” No one was saying it, but I’m sure most people were trying to find that one person who looked less organised and who made you feel more confident. Thankfully I didn’t need to look too far as my mate Duncan was on the floor next to me gaffer-taping his roll mat to his rucksack as it couldn’t fit in his suitcase!
I had been warned that there would be a lot of bravado before the race started (“willy-waving” was the actual term used) and we should avoid the type of people who bragged about the quantity and quality of training he (or she) had done. I did my best to turn my back on these people and thankfully met up with some very like-minded people who shared the attitude that this was going to be a great adventure and were prepared to “man up” as this wasn’t going to be a “bloody hen-do”!
Having arrived in the Moroccan town of Ouarzazate, we spent our time endlessly queuing, drinking (water of course) and eating enough to burst. The following morning we were hustled on to a coach and driven for 8 hours out to the middle of the Sahara. I am sure that the journey would have been a lot shorter had it not been for the constant toilet breaks, the first taking place after just 20 minutes!
Even out in the middle of nowhere, the waiting, queuing and bravado avoidance continued until the race started. There was no avoiding the constant kit checks but, in fairness, it was very useful as backpack weight is so crucial. With the exception of our “tent” (if you can call sackcloths stitched together and propped up by sticks a tent) and meagre salt and water rations, we had to carry everything that we would need for the week. So if there was any way of reducing the weight of it all then that could only be a good thing. Again Duncan made me feel a lot better. Having weighed my bag, it was around 13kgs, including the first water ration. Duncan’s food alone weighed 11kgs! Needless to say the rest of Tent 91 gladly helped consume his vast excess of food, but I’m afraid that his Golf World magazine didn’t make the final cut!
The nervous energy in our tent and throughout the whole camp was obvious as we got closer to D-Day. The night before the start we were given the first speech by race director Patrick Bauer. He is famed for his long rambling speeches and he didn’t disappoint. He spoke at great length in French and his announcements were then translated into English in a comical fraction of the time. However, his welcome was warm and we were made to feel very special to be taking part in such a challenging event. He also gave a demonstration of how to use the distress flares. The 3rd one he attempted worked fine, but seeing as I would be carrying only one, I was determined not to get in a situation bad enough to have to rely on it! Even with all the pent-up energy and eagerness to get started, I managed to get a great night sleep: the earplugs definitely helped!
Stage 1 – 31.6kms (19.6 miles). 5hrs 58 mins, 423rd / 801
Today was finally the day that we got the show on the road. From the time we woke we would be totally self sufficient until the finish line– just 7 days and 152 miles away. We woke at 6am to a sandstorm, so immediately our kit was completely covered in sand – a definite sign of things to come. Everyone was clearly keen to get going though and people were fed, taped, lubed, and packed very early, so there was much sitting around until the official start time at 9am.
We had been camping for the last two days at the foot of some amazing sand dunes so we knew what to expect. Even though the route changes every year, the first day is traditionally the easiest day; short and designed to introduce you relatively gently into the race. If this day was supposed to be easy then we were in a lot of trouble.The start was a fantastic occasion in itself. 801 competitors took to the start line, 707 men and 94 women. After yet more ramblings from Mr Bauer, we set off to the sounds of ACDC’s “You Shook Me All Night Long”, whilst overhead the Eurosport helicopter was going mental filming us. It was a real buzz and we set off running the one kilometer to the foot of the dunes. Our plan was to walk the first day so that we could ease into the race and try and acclimatise, but in actual fact we literally had no other option as we faced over 18kms of the highest dunes in the Sahara.
It was hard work but the views were absolutely stunning, so much so that it took the attention away from the 38º temperature, the weight of our packs and the fact that we were scrambling up and down mountains of soft sand. The experience was fantastic and I got through the day unscathed. I was relatively unaffected by the heat, my gaiters didn’t let a single grain of sand in and I was keen to experience more. However, if there was any chance that I may get over confident I was brought back down to earth by one of my tent mates. Hilly did just as well as the rest of the tent that day and he had drunk all his water rations, but he hadn’t eaten enough salt tablets. He became groggy and very ill, and even though we joked for him to “Man Up” we were actually pretty concerned for him. After nailing a lot more salt and an early night he woke up the next day feeling slightly more human, but it was a good lesson for us all: if you lose respect for the event and the conditions it could easily come back to bite you. Six competitors were unable to recover and were forced to pull out before Stage Two.
Stage 2 – 38 kms (24 miles). 5hrs 38 mins, 253rd
After all the walking of Day 1, the running started in earnest today as we ran away from the dunes. The terrain of vast rocky plains and salt flats was less dramatic than the dunes but no less stunning. The major difference today was that the temperature increased to 40º and the breeze dropped. I was given two bits of advice which proved extremely useful, if a little obvious when I first heard them.
1, Always keep moving forward.
2, Don’t stop unless you really have to.
These fairly obvious nuggets were what I lived by for the week. Whilst other people took rests on route, at the checkpoints I literally kept moving forward and even filled my water bottles whilst still walking. Mentally it was great to keep the momentum going the whole time as you knew that all the miles, stages and days were being ticked off that bit quicker.It may sound obvious but running in the desert heat with a heavy backpack is not the same as jogging back in the UK. You may try to run hard but all you can really hope to achieve is a quick shuffle. But this shuffle can prove extremely effective if you can just maintain it, and I was fortunate because I was able to do precisely that.
A certain German was not finding it quite as comfortable and was heard saying to the organisers, “Take me to Ouarzazate now!” When they suggested that he should have a sit down and have a think about it he replied, “I have been thinking about it for four hours. Take me now, I will pay!”
Like the previous day, our entire tent made it back in good time, so we had plenty of time to banter and relax before nightfall. Each day I had treated myself to a starter of Supernoodles, a different boil-in-the-bag main course and a pudding. It was always worth the weight. Some people criticised the grub, but it tasted great to me, so much so that I may order a few more portions of the Chicken Tikka now that I am back!The day’s only downer came when I queued for an hour to email home, and managed to get the recipient’s address slightly wrong so I sent my one and only email to a random stranger. I had to rejoin the queue and do it all over again. I would love to blame the awkward French keyboard, but really I only have my own ineptitude to blame!
Stage 3 – 40.5 kms (25.1 miles). 6hrs, 172nd
Today was another dune day. To make matters worse it was a seriously hot 48º. These dunes were different from the opening day as they were long and undulating rather than steep and high. The dunes were 10kms away so we ran as hard as possible for the first hour before we got to them and before the insufferable heat of the day kicked in.By now I was taking at least 6 salt tablets per bottle and this was really helping. In this heat without them we wouldn’t have finished the day, let alone the other stages. It was clear that everyone had got the same idea and the medical support were not prepared to give us more than a meagre ration of 3 at each check point. I had my first and thankfully only case of runners grump when they refused to give me any more. But as we headed off and I was telling anyone who would listen about how unfair I thought it was, I literally stepped on a full bag of salt tablets that someone had dropped – there was a God, so my moaning immediately stopped.
Again I used the mantra of “keep on moving forward”, and it continued to serve me well as I was able to keep the jog/shuffle/walk combination going until the end of the stage.I was happy with the way things were going. I was loving the tent, loving the scenery and happy with my physical condition. The main reason why people fail to complete this event is either because their feet get badly blistered, or they pick up a serious tummy bug. After day 3 I hadn’t had a single blister and I was still nice and regular in the bowel department (in case you were wondering!). The worst blister that I saw was in our tent: George had one so large that when he popped and squeezed it the stream of fluid squirted so high that it nearly hit the roof of the tent – nice! He “manned up” though as there were no complaints, just determined use of the scalpel and red iodine. Another sight of human pain was a bloke running in a full white lycra suit and seeing his inside thigh completely red due to a serious dose of chaffing. I wasn’t sure what was more disturbing, the blood or the lycra outfit.Another day done and I went to sleep eager to get the next stage done as quickly as possible; the big test was finally here.
Stage 4 – 75.5kms (47 miles). 11hrs 23mins, 131st
The notorious double day. When I first learned about the event this was the day that everyone talked about and feared. It is the main test of the entire event. You spend the first three days trying to get to this stage in as fit a condition as possible. If you complete this then you have pretty much completed 2/3rds of the entire distance. Mother Nature tried her best to make things even harder for us as a sandstorm hit the camp during the night. I’m afraid that I can’t say any more than this because I managed to sleep through it, but apparently some tents blew down, including part of ours but I continued to sleep and only ate a few mouthfuls of sand.
The stage started with an incredible climb over a very steep Jebel (mountain). The plan was to get there as quickly as possible in order to avoid the traffic jams going up and also reduce the chance of anyone dislodging massive boulders above us. After that we would try to run and walk for as long as we were able to. Having completed a 51 mile training run in 13 hours along the Thames Tow Path, I expected to finish this day in about 15 hours. Always moving forward Duncan and I formed a great partnership and nailed 40 miles together with relative ease despite the terrain and temperatures again at 48º. I had to push on at the end when the sun went down as I felt my energy reserves evaporating. I ended up only running for an hour in the dark and even though incredibly tired, it was a massive boost to finish so much earlier than expected and get back into the camp by 8.30pm – supper time!I did my best to eat and get some rest, but my body was so uncomfortable that I just had to keep moving. Wrapping up warm I hobbled back to the finish line to clap in a few runners. This was a real highlight for me. It was wonderful to be able to give encouragement to completely random people and share in their achievement. It definitely beat going to sleep, and I stayed until George crawled across the line. The blisters he picked up the day before had got a lot worse, so bad in fact that he could hardly walk and he had cellulitis up his legs. He would get them looked at the next morning because after 17 hours of pain, all he wanted was sleep.
People were still finishing well into the afternoon the next day, but for Tent 91 we had a rest day. It was a great chance to refuel so all we did was eat, stretch and marvel at the state of people’s feet, George’s in particular - I have seen steaks in better condition.
I was feeling sorry for the competitors still struggling to finish, however my sympathy was tested when I overheard one of the late finishers bragging that he was fine and felt a bit guilty to receive such warm applause from the camp as he had been asleep for 8 hours at the last checkpoint - it was clear to me then that some people were taking this race slightly less seriously than others!
After dinner we received another batch of emails which were always extremely welcome and a lovely way to finish the day. Until now I hadn’t really been tracking my finishing position, but I had hoped that I was moving up the field after the slow start. One of the messages came from a mate who finished 187th the previous year, and the offer of a beer was there if I could beat him. I was currently in 189th place. The race was on.
Stage 5 – 42.2kms (26.2 miles). 5hrs 15mins, 143rd
The 2008 MDS will not be remembered for its savage sandstorms but we did get our fair dose of distance and heat. It was the longest event ever and today it reached 47º but the still air made it feel so much hotter.
With just a marathon and a half, to go it was clear that the atmosphere had changed from an event into a race as the pace and intensity had noticeably increased.The terrain was relatively flat but the soft sand of the dried-up riverbeds posed just as many problems as the dunes. Again I ran with my running partner of the long day, Duncan, and we set a steady but not startlingly fast pace. Just after the final checkpoint I decided to push myself out of the comfort zone and kicked hard for home. I knew that this wasn’t very wise as I didn’t have much juice left and sure enough I hit my wall with a few miles to go. Thankfully though Duncan helped me to get running again and I was able to keep my head down and count slowly until I got to the end. It was seriously hard work but I was pleased to have put myself through the pain. That may sound like a really daft thing to say but at the time I had to do it as I was beginning to feel guilty. Many people were suffering severe pain and exhaustion, yet I couldn’t even claim to have a single blister and was still enjoying it all. So a bit of deliberate suffering felt good – although I wasn’t enjoying it much at the time.
I can’t stress again how important it was to avoid blisters. In the months prior to the MDS I had been running without socks and with sand in my shoes which seemed to successfully toughen the skin. I was also advised to toughen my feet in white spirit but I am so glad that I didn’t as one competitor who did toughened them so much that his feet split from toe to heel after day one. I guess I was lucky. Someone who wasn’t lucky was George. He set out on this stage knowing that it would be a long hobble, but it got worse after just two miles as his feet were so swollen that it was too painful to wear his trainers. He took them off and taped his feet into some lightweight hotel slippers. He carried on walking for a further 18 miles. As he was after the cut-off time for the final checkpoint he was retired from the race. We were absolutely gutted for him as his courage was immense. The rest of the tent were very humbled by the way he dealt with his disappointment as he never complained once and accepted it with such good grace. I grumbled enough about salt tablets so I have no idea how bad I would have been if I were in his shoes slippers.
That night an orchestra was flown out and performed a concert, but for me it was more important to wait at the finish line for George who of course never arrived. It just didn’t seem right to listen to music when a mate was struggling so much – I guess it just added to the whole randomness of our situation.
Stage 6 – 17.5kms (10.8 miles). 1hr 35 mins, 77th
All that we had left on the final day was a quick sprint back to civilisation. The legs had just about recovered enough overnight so I was ready to have one final blow out. The backpack now contained only the mandatory items as all food had been eaten and things like roll mats and pans had been binned. It was a joy to have no weight to carry and I was determined to make the most of it.
It felt great to actually run with a degree of speed, and as my feet were in good shape there was no excuse not to run hard. I gave it my all so by the time we crossed the rocky plains, through fields and onto the tarmac streets of Tazzarine I was pretty tired. Crossing the finish line was a weird experience. There were lots of people there, and many competitors shed a few tears, or were punching the air with joy. I remember being in a bit of a daze and couldn’t quite believe that it was all over. The first thing I did was honour a sponsorship agreement and took a video of me taking my shoe off, filling it with water and drinking it. It was well worth the £350 I got for doing it, but it was just a shame my mate didn’t turn the camera on so I had to do a repeat performance back at the hotel. (The evidence on YouTube)
It was a great feeling to have finished. I still consider myself incredibly fortunate not to have suffered compared to many of the people that I met. All the months of training had been to prepare myself for a week of torture which never happened. I guess the training ensured that I did not have a week of torture, as the week was within my capabilities. Fail to prepare, prepare to fail sums it up pretty accurately. I loved the experience and I thought the desert was a truly stunning place. The dunes, rocky plains, salt flats, dried river beds and the millions of stars were incredible. Was it the toughest race on earth? For me it wasn’t, and I’m not sure how this multi stage event can call itself the toughest with cut off times so generous that you can walk slowly and still finish it. However I realise that if you asked one of the 53 people who didn’t finish or one of the hundreds of people who suffered from savage blisters or chronic diarrhoea then they will have a very different answer.
The special thing about this event is that it poses a fantastic challenge. It requires a lot of training to prepare yourself for a week that is designed to take you out of your comfort zone and test you mentally, physically and emotionally. Perhaps I could have done things differently, but I had a plan and I stuck to it. Perhaps I could have run the whole of Day 1 and pushed myself harder on the other days, but that is with the benefit of hindsight. Who knows, if I had done this then I may have completely crumbled. The Marathon des Sables is all about management; you must manage strength, food and water. If you can get this right and ride your luck you will have a great time. As a 6ft 3inch rugby player with no ultra marathon experience to finish 17th out of the Brits and 173rd overall, I’ll live with that!
Total 35 hrs 51 mins, 173rd
Tips for those thinking of doing it.
Training
- Do lots of hill sprints, it increases your leg strength and gives you a boost of fitness that you don’t get on the long runs
- Go on a lot of walks with a heavy pack: like it or not a lot of your time will be walking in the sand.
- It’s all about conditioning your legs to be able to run day after day so work hard on reducing the amount of recovery time between runs.
- The heat shouldn’t be too much of a factor, but do a few “sweat” runs on the treadmill, this involves an hour hard run with a coat and woolly hat!
- Eat plenty of salt tablets (even in the UK), drink Nuun electrolyte, and eat flapjacks, nuts and dried fruit
- Do at least one 50 miler, it may be hell at the time but it is hugely beneficial.
- Train without socks and with sand in your shoes. It worked for me that’s all I can say!
- Create a training schedule and try and stick to it.
Food
- For breakfast take a zip lock bag full of muesli, granola, Country Crisp & dried milk power, it was delicious and meant I didn’t need to cook in the morning!
- Take a mix of nuts, seeds, dried fruit and also pepparami to eat on the run.
- Take super noodles with you as a starter (boil water and eat in a water bottle cut in half to avoid washing up)
- Mix up the expedition foods so you have a different main meal and pudding each night.
- Drink Race Recovery shakes at the end of each day.
- Don’t scrimp on food for the save of a few kgs: you’ll be working so hard everyday that you’ll welcome a decent meal.
Kit
- Take lightweight warm clothes as it does get cold at night.
- Splash out on a decent pair of shoes and insoles, I can’t recommend Profeet highly enough.
- Injinjis socks were fantastic, I took 4 pairs of these and 1 pair of Seal Skins, this was fine for the week.
- Any gaiters are fine, just make sure you fit them securely to your trainer. I had my parachute gaiters stitched and glued and no sand got in.
- One of our tent had a little aluminium foil to go around the little hexamine stoves – this was awesome as it radiated the heat and cooked everything so quickly.
- Don’t bother taking too much tape as you can get this from the Doc Trotters.
- Share stoves, fuel and pans. 1 between 2 or 3 people will be fine.
- Take alcohol gel and clean your hands regularly.
- If you love stats get a Garmin Forerunner. Also wear the heart rate monitor and slow your pace down if you go as high as 150 bpm so you are not burning too many carbs.
- Body glide, apply everywhere as it will be your saviour.
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