if you want to experience something run a marathon"
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Event reports...
Marathon des Sables 2007
Tent 82: The CamelÕs Head
Andy McNenemy
Mark Wallace
Simon Williams
Thomas Adams
Tim OÕDowd
Steve Garlick
Guy Stanford
and
MeÉ!
ÒWe have accepted the rules of the game, and the game now forms us in its own image. It is within us that the Sahara reveals itself. To approach it is not to visit an oasis, it is to make our religion of a springÓ. (Wind Sand & Stars Ð Antoinne de St Exupery).
21st March 07
11pm
Well, everything is ready. I canÕt check my kit yet again. As I wait for my sister to call me back I am able to reflect a little bit, just a little bit. So here I am Ð 3 years down the line from when I first mentioned to someone that I fancied running the MDS. Little did I know then how determined I would become to make that whim or fancy become a plausible reality. It still doesnÕt seem quite real that tomorrow I will be on my way; it still feels like something I can only imagine. I know I am ready for it, and my mental reserves feel ready to take it on, but it still somehow seems unreal.
Even chatting to the boys IÕll be sharing a tent with seems slightly bizarre Ð I feel able to chat to them as if I have known them for years, however, I have yet to actually meet any of them! Perhaps when I start journeying towards Gatwick tomorrow it will all begin to feel real. So many people have telephoned me, emailed me and written cards wishing me well. IÕve spoken to all my family and I still canÕt quite grasp that IÕm really going to go out and run across the Sahara Desert Ð what a ludicrous idea! But (sigh), here it is, and thereÕs no turning back Ð not that I want to, but I feel that already the time for giving up is past Ð tomorrow is coming and I CANÕT WAIT ANY LONGER!
22nd March 07
10pm
End of what has been an extraordinary day, long and exciting. Arriving at the South Terminal in Gatwick and meeting Simon, Steve & Tim at check in was the first call, then the long queue through security Ð already several other runners apparent clearly sticking out all with the same rucksacks and already the banter and chat is at a high. One girl mentioned her pack only weighed 8kgs Ð she must be lying, mine weighed 10kgs! We met Mark and Andy in departures. Seeing familiar faces from some training runs, Raidlight packs everywhere as 230 runners gathered at the gate. Everyone had that slightly nervous glint in their eyes, a look that said Òfinally, here I am, after all these months of planning and training and stress, IÕm here!Ó Everyone seems to have made a journey of some sort to get themselves to this point, what I found amazing was knowing that we would be joining a further 500 or so runners in Morocco.
We had a smooth flight. I was sitting next to Simon and also Terry who I met on the Tring2Town2 a month or so ago. We had managed somehow to get the seats with extra leg room Ð not quite sure how we managed that Ð but they produced lots of jokes and banter as other folk noticed! We finally reached Morocco after a glorious descent over the snow capped Atlas Mountains and what looked like the edge of the desert. Blue skies as we touched down and 230 over excited runners descended onto the tarmac at what must be one of the smallest airports that really did look as if it was in the middle of nowhere. Dusty coloured buildings and then flat plains falling back to the edge of nowhere! The relief at seeing my suitcase on the carousel was huge after all the scaremongering that our luggage would end up in some far flung place. Boarding the bus to the hotel I felt like I was going on a school trip, with beautiful Arabic music blaring out on the speakers. The short drive to the hotel glimpsed us a dusty Moroccan town that looks organically grown out of the ground and it feels very like a film set. IÕm sharing a room with Terry. We wondered off for a coffee and chat and to watch this quiet town in the middle of nowhere whiz by Ð or crawl by. A couple of MDS trucks rumbled past Ð making us laugh nervously with excited anticipation that it is all gradually beginning to feel more realÉsort of!
For one of the first times I feel in place. I have something in common with the people that I am surrounded by, I feel confident with them and completely at home. I am excited by everything, All the people I am meeting, the anticipation of the race, but also of simply sharing my days with the guys that I am surrounded by. I think there are some great conversations ahead. There are some great characters and personalities around, not least in my tent. Such a mixture of ages, and there are more to come tomorrow when we move to the desert.
I still canÕt quite believe I am here Ð and yet it feels so right Ð it smells of Africa, and that simply means IÕm home.
23rd March 07
5pm
Bivouac 1 Ð We have arrived at our first camp after a long 5/6hour bus journey from Ouzarzate. The scenery was spectacular and the buzz in the bus was very much in evidence. The humour not just amongst my tent boys but with everyone is running high Ð camel jokes in particular seem to be becoming the norm, and after a particularly amusing joke from Tim we have christened our tent the ÒCamelÕs HeadÓ Ð this sounds innocent, but believe me when I say it is not! The loo stops were highly amusing on route Ð all the boys lining up taking a slash, whilst all girls went the other side of the bus discreetly behind bushes several hundreds yards away Ð such modesty. Mark threatened to take a dump alongside everyoneÉsurely by the end of the week we will all be that friendly! At about 4pm we pulled off the road alongside a group of army transport trucks, heaved ourselves, bags and suitcases onto the backs of them and set off for some white and black dots on the horizon which turned out to be the bivouac! The white tents are all fairly smart and are for all the organisers, the admin, medical and the like, just beyond them is a large double lined circle of traditional black berber tents with the sides all flapping in the alarmingly strong wind. The black tents are for the runners and will be our home in the various bivouacs for the next 8 days. They arenÕt what you call the most luxurious of tents with only two sides stuck down and not really securely at that Ð they are what you might call well air-conditioned, which on reflection sharing with 7 men might be a good thing. Our tent, no.82, is on the inner circle, and once we had dumped our bags and suitcases inside on the rather attractive Moroccan rugs which are the groundsheets we headed off into the desert to find heavy rocks to secure the sides in the apparently evident event of strong winds blowing the whole tent away! It is already quite windy and more to the point is the concern at the back of my mind if it blows up into a sandstorm during the actual race Ð nevermind, cross that particular bit of sand when I get to it!
It is so very beautiful here, with the backdrop of great big cliffs running along in a ridge Ð some extra keen runners went for a practice yomp to the top, up a sand dune! Tim, Tom and I decided that weÕd probably being doing enough of that in the days to come! People are wandering around camp, from tent to tent. The Brits are the only ones here so far. Berbers are moving around the tents, adding the finishing touches of the odd rope, stick or rock. The sun is shining brightly in a clear blue sky and the wind is adding a gentle chill to the air. We have this evening to ourselves, with supper provided. Tomorrow is admin day where at some point all our kit and food will be checked, our ECGs confirmed good, and I imagine as well the nerves will increase Ð but for the moment it is just incredible to be here, in this dusty tent on the edge of the desert, listening to the Berbers as they fix some of the tents Ð knowing IÕm back in Africa Ð life couldnÕt be better.
Our road maps were handed out on the bus Ð it looks like we have been given maps of how to get through Middle Earth to Mordor! There are lots of compass bearings as well Ð a niggling worry as I still donÕt know how to take a compass bearing!
24th March 07
3.30pm
Well, all checks done and passed and now that really is it Ð IÕm through and ready to run!
All thatÕs left to do now before the race is simply pass the time. During the admin check in the queue ahead of Tim and myself was a veteran runner. Initially it was fun chatting to him Ð he eased my concerns that I wonÕt actually need to use my compass, however he then proceeded to wax lyrical about the weight of packs and how light his was and how if your pack was over 10kgs then you were probably going to suffer from bad knees, ankles etc. I think my face was showing my concern Ð my pack is about 12kg Ð I didnÕt weigh it properly after I went over 10.5kg! Tim smiled and carried on the guyÕs sentence that my knees would explode and my feet fall off Ð heÕs great!
We are lying in the tent keeping out of the sun Ð it is already around 40 degrees today, there is quite a lot of wind still Ð one tent did blow away in the night, apparently, but not ours! I overheard a rather funny conversation from a tent somewhere: ÒItÕs rather sandy isnÕt itÓ which was followed by a Berber remarking Òwell, itÕs the Sahara DesertÉÓ Ð or words to that effect!
My tent boys are lovely Ð I canÕt believe already how many fit fellas I am surrounded by, and not just the ones in my tent! But the ones in my tent are particularly fine it has to be said:
Andy: Mister organised, generous and full of beans. Clearly pumped and motivated for this. Has a theory on all aspects of it and is well prepared for what appears like every eventuality Ð also has the most enormous camera which seems ludicrous, but good on him! I know IÕll get on well with him, think heÕll be good at hugs, and definitely not bothered about teasing me which is good.
Mark Ð well what can I say, heÕs just lovely, ginger, a fag ash Ôlil, completely bonkers. Clearly has a lovely wife and two little kids who have drawn all over his kit. Nothing but jokes come out of his mouth and think they could get dirtier as the week progresses Ð I love him already.
Simon Ð the one who I had the most contact with before, definitely the worrier of the tent. Not quite how I expected him to be, but he is fun and a good laugh.
Guy Ð havenÕt had much time with him yet but heÕs rather yummy. Lots of stories to tell for definite. Looks very fit Ð IÕm impressed.
Tim Ð phwoar! Again, filthy sense of humour, very fit body, nice hands, paramedic, cheeky eyes Ð I wonÕt go on or IÕll start dribbling!
Tom Ð again, phwoar! Body of a god. Quite quiet Ð but donÕt think that will last Ð youngest in the tent, but seems cool and in control Ð seems to have a very light bag, but has bottle of whisky as has his birthday on day 6.
Steve Ð Staid, assured, steady Ð generally good nut.
See, they are all lovely Ð all fit, all funny, all men Ð all attached (bugger!)
Tim and I wandered over to meet the sweeper camels Ð intending to bribe them not to overtake us. They are rather cool with lovely Berbers Ð although I wouldnÕt personally kiss the camel, they have rather smelly breath. We wondered over to the start line to check it out, pose for a photograph under the banner and then we came back to the tent. The noise of all the tents flapping in the wind and the gentle buzz of conversation of roughly 700 people Ð our home for the next 7 nights Ð is just incredible. It feels like home walking back into the tent, I feel at ease with this whole place and now I canÕt wait to see where this race will take me. We have a briefing this evening in the middle of the bivouac and then supper provided to us and then I guess bedÉand after that, itÕs self sufficiency until the finish line!
The briefing was great. Patrick Bauer, and Alison who interpreted for him, stood on a Landrover speaking to all 757 runners who were standing in a wide semi-circle in the middle of the bivouac. Lots of welcomes to all 32 nationalities, rules & regulations read out, statements of good luck, thanks to the sponsors, all that jazz. Some jokes which the English speakers got and not the French, and vice versa. Music being played out over loud speakers, some people jiving in the middle, some Koreans running about like nutters, Happy Birthday messages, a Mexican wave that took some time to get going Ð general adrenalin and excitement. The music was brilliant and both Tim and I want to get copies of it. We headed off to the supper queue and a last real hot meal, and then wondered back to the bivouac where the Berbers had built and lit a huge fire right in the centre. We stood and stared at it for a bit before heading back to the tent where surprisingly we were all quite tired Ð or maybe just nervous, as we settled down to try and sleep by about 8.30pmÉ.
25th March 07
7pm
In the tent!!! Wow! I have made it through the first day! A bit of waiting around at the start, but lots of music, some local dancers/singers/musicians playing traditional music to us Ð the atmosphere was absolutely buzzing.
Patrick again on top of the landy, wishing us all well, giving us some details of what to expect from the terrain today Ð we were apparently getting a taster of everything that was to come later in the week. Lots of last minute dashes for a quick wee as the nerves began to get the better of people, photos being taken, laughter, hailing good luck to all our new friends Ð I have never felt so terrified, excited, hysterical and crazy in my life. Finally at around 9.30am with all our packs on our backs, drinks made up, - everything I need to survive on my back, sun cream applied, Patrick gave the countdown and we were off. 757 runners spreading out across the plain towards the distant hills. The helicopter was flying low above us as we streamed over the start line, filming us and everyone waving their arms madly. A lot of people seemed to launch off at a haring pace. I had lined up with Tim, and within the first 5 minutes I had lost site of him. I determinedly held myself back at least for the first 5kms, trying to acclimatise to the weight of my pack Ð which actually felt reasonably comfortable. I tried to settle, the ground was very uneven, packed with rocks and bumps and gravely sand. I had a mad urge to laugh hysterically and felt quite nervous as several people seemed to stream past me. I fell into step with a young Irish girl call Jo Kilkenny, and we were sort of power walking. But after a bit both of us decided that the terrain was not too bad and we picked up into a sort of trot which I found a lot more comfortable and soon found that I was able to pick up further into what felt like a run. The heat didnÕt feel too bad. The surrounding views were just stunning Ð it was hard not to just stop and take out my camera every 5 minutes, but I resisted. I was actually fighting the dilemma of needing a wee which having been about 5 times already before the start I couldnÕt believe that I needed to go again. As the heat rose, and the terrain varied so much from sandy stretches to smooth plateaus up and down small hills and ridges my bladder felt full to bursting. I dived quickly to the side in the shade of a prickly tree and turned to face the oncoming stream of runners, crouched down and bliss! I quickly joined the race again after laughing with a fellow runner whoÕd had the same idea. The line of runners disappeared off into the distance like an ant trail all along this beautiful valley that seemed to have a lot of vegetation, ups and downs, rocks to dodge and steadily rising heat.
After about just over an hourÕs time I was very pleasantly surprised to see Check Point 1 loom into view at the foot of some hills. Tall flags, Landrovers, and great stockpiles of water bottles. We were divided into numbers and I had to go through the right gate, have my water pass stamped, collect my bottles with a grateful ÒBonjour et merciÓ muttered to the Check Point marshal. I went through the gate and heaved off my rucksack to refill my bottles and take a quick breather and survey the state of my fellow runners. Some people looked as if they had slightly over cooked the first stage of this first day, blisters already slightly apparent and other varying complaints of rubbing from packs etc. I felt good, with very little discomfort except from feeling a tad hot and contemplating another two stages of roughly the same distance of what was now behind me. I already knew at this point that even thinking about the days to come would have been an error. I picked up my pack, munched a Maximuscle energy bar and pushed on. The going between CP 1 and CP 2 was as varied as the first stage with gentle undulating dune fields Ð well, what looked like gentle undulating dune fields, but they seemed to go on forever! To my great delight however, I passed Andy, Mark and Guy! Mark looked a little red faced and suffering a bit from the heat. But I hailed them loudly and pushed on. From nowhere songs started flooding into my head and as I seemed to be fairly alone, a few people ahead and behind I began to sing and found it made the going easier Ð my tutor from Drama School would have been proud, not least because of my singing, but because of the random selection of ridiculous songs that popped into my head. Check Point 2 loomed at the top of a fairly rocky hill, and very much in the heat of the day. Some poor French bloke was hurling the contents of his stomach quite spectacularly onto the sandy rocks and some Doc Trotter medics were soon attending to him. I munched on a particularly refreshing bar of crumbled Kendal Mint cake, chatted to Guy Ð who came yomping into the check point, and Irish Chris who was dealing with his feet. Guy was also dealing with his feet. My feet felt hot but I figured that if I took my shoes off in the middle of the day I might not get them back on! And so, off I set Ð singing loudly.
Guy caught me up about 2/3kms out of CP2 and we stuck with each other across the small field of dunes that followed. Guy is absolutely lovely, and we struck up conversations about Southern Africa Ð he knows some really interesting people and he has travelled in so many of the places I want to go to all around the world. We reached a ridge together, and there was a sight that was quite glorious, the Bivouac!!!! I couldnÕt believe that we had already reached the point where we could see it, that I had nearly completed Stage 1. It was across a plain towards some hills in the distance, the round circle of black berber tents, but something I was to learn on a daily basis was that in the Sahara distances are deceiving. It looked about 3kms away Ð it was in fact about 5 or 6kms and took almost an hour because although we ran quite a bit of it, it never seemed to come closer and we were feeling quite tired! But the last few metres to the finish line lifted our adrenalin and we fairly sprinted over the line, and then stood breathing heavily and sweating profusely in the line to collect our evening water rations of 3 litres each. As we headed off to find Tent 82, Tim and Tom came marching towards us, already in sandals and relaxing after their dayÕs efforts. Guy and I had come in about 20 mins behind Tim. Tom however had finished the day in 3 hours!!!! They both gave us big hugs Ð and I got two greatly enjoyed kisses! Then we flopped into the tent and gratefully offloaded our backpacks, and relaxed. I checked out my feet Ð not too bad, couple of small blisters, which Mark generously dealt with later on by injecting them with neat iodine Ð OW! When Mark & Andy arrived, they were quite tired, Mark had found the heat quite testing not to mention the fact that one of his straps on his pack broke!
I made my way to the email tent, sent a quick message home, chatted amongst some other folk and then headed back to the tent, gave Mark a quick shoulder rub, ate some delicious bean & vegetable curry, drank some tea then snuggled down into my tent listening to the gentle noises of the camp settling down, the BerberÕs fire glowing in the middle of the bivouac as the sun went down. Heaven!
26th March 2007
8am
Well, weÕre all up and set ready for Stage 2, after a somewhat turbulent night with wind whipping up the sand a real treat. Apparently a couple of tents came down Ð ours nearly did and yes, sand is literally everywhere!
So today we have 3 check points along the route at relatively even intervals of 10kms with a final blast of about 6/8kms before home. It is another beautiful morning, already warm with a pleasant gentle breeze. After yesterdayÕs test of every possible terrain I feel reasonably ready to take on today, IÕm feeling strong and incredibly happy. I love my tent, I love my boys and this desert is just the most beautiful place to wake up to. Looking out from the bivouac across the camp to the hills it does feel incredible to be here, a privilege to be amongst such a diverse group of brilliant people. Everyone I have met so far has been simply wonderful, from the big RAF boys to my smelly lads in my tent. Both Chris and Nigel from the Tring2Town2 race are here Ð Chris is in the next door tent, and itÕs great to see them again Ð hugs abound. Meeting people during the race, hailing runners as I pass them or as they pass me in one of the 32 languages that are represented Ð it is just awesome. So as the helicopter is beginning to make its passes over the top of us and we start strapping on our packs, it feels like magic, or perhaps we are all part of one large fellowship, as I do feel somewhat like Frodo or Sam setting off on another day with my life on my back Ð on a quest of survival.
27th March 2007
7am
Wow. Stage 3 awaits us or roughly 20miles, which after yesterdayÕs mammoth task seems entirely possible.
Stage 2 was amazing. Long flat plains, high ridge ways, tough hill scrambles, rock climbing (I kid you not!), and beautiful dunes. By Check Point 3 my feet felt like they were on fire but there was no way I was stopping, I ran and walked with some wonderful people yesterday. I crossed the start line with Tom, but didnÕt seem him again until I literally collapsed into the tent at the end of the day. He managed 4 hours Ð I managed somewhere around the 7 hour mark I think. It was fairly steady going to CP1 and no real problems apart from rising temperatures. After CP1 I ran a good stretch with Chris who came up behind me and gave me a shove to get me going, which certainly did the trick. I ran with him and his mate up until we climbed up the most beautiful ridge where the sides dropped away on either side to beautiful valleys and plains and far reaching hills and mountains as far as the eyes could see Ð mind-blowing. Scrambling up the ridge was slow going as we ground to single file, but I copied another impatient runner and took a diversion off the path and scrambled up the side amid wolf whistles and cheering banter. Going down the other side was fairly tortuous and hazardous on the feet and ankles let alone the rising temperature and humidity. Then finally hitting the bottom of the valleys and a sandy stretch to the much needed respite of CP2. I remember noticing at this point how big my hands were Ð they had swelled up quite drastically in the heat. After refuelling I pushed on Ð I was feeling hot and not much like chatting so after a swift farewell to Guy who had joined me at CP2 I set off alone. The going was varied and uneven, dry riverbeds and cracked ground before finally a large plain opened out before me Ð across the plain, hills loomed in the distance and at the foot of them was CP3 Ð at least that is what another runner said, I had to take his word for it because it wasnÕt visible, this was because it was about 8/9kms away. The long plain ahead of me that shimmered in the heat looked and felt like a frying pan and was a somewhat daunting sight, but as the luck of this amazing race would have it I was joined by a truly lovely Frenchman called Olivier and we joined forces and yomped across the whole plain and almost sprinted the last 200m into the check point. It was very hot, there was no breeze and as I munched on an energy bar at the checkpoint and refilled my bottles I looked up at what lay ahead. The race continued gradually towards the hills which even 8kms away had looked alarmingly large and steep, up close I still couldnÕt see the way up. I must have looked quite washed out at this point as two medics asked me if I was ok, I just grinned inanely and muttered something back in my best French and off I set waving farewell to Olivier who was taking a break in the shade of one of the tents provided at the check point. The base of the hills began with a long sandy dune which was steep and hard to move up fast, partly because the ground was loosened up considerably by runners ahead of me and also because the sun was at its strongest and there was literally no stirring of air to be had. I was climbing just behind a lad from Manchester called Gary, who had hailed me earlier as he passed me in the frying pan. He was having a great debate about fitness routines with his mate and I fell into a daze as I listened to them to take my mind off my hot feet and head. Just behind me was a wonderful lady called Hilary who was 60 years old. As we reached the top of the dune and gratefully fell into the shade of the hill the rock climbing began and it was a serious scramble, on hands and knees in places and in one place I was thankful that Gary was there to haul me up some rocks! The top of the hill gave way again into the sunlight and an almost vertical climb in sand again! The race organisers had most considerately placed a rope for us to pull ourselves up to the top Ð how kind of them! Some people were finding the going tough especially in the heat and as we crested the peak the chopper landed to assist a Frenchie further down who was suffering quite severely I think. However, what goes up must come down. Having made it to the top the view was spectacular and provided us with a spirit lifting glimpse of the bivouac shimmering in the distance out on a plainÉbut the route there was somewhat tortuous. The way down was rocky to say the least and in the direct glare of the sun, deeply cut into the cliffs and so again no breeze. My feet were in agony to say the least and were sending signals to my brain that surely it was time to stop. A few drinks, energy food and gritting of teeth saw me down to the bottom where I amazed myself by taking a much needed pee! Gary, Hilary and I paused to take stock as the terrain gave way to welcome soft sand Ð albeit strewn with black rocks and stones Ð but which then fell away to some beautiful golden dunes of the English Patient variety and just beyond them was home. IÕm not quite sure from where, but as I entered the dunes some energy and adrenalin surged through my aching feet and limbs and as I crested each dune with the Bivouac creeping slowly towards me I felt like I was flying. I raced across the finish line where the two Ahansel brothers were watching finishers. I gratefully received my water and stumbled to the tent, where Tim and Tom both looked somewhat surprised to see me. I collapsed in a heap and felt quite sick for the rest of the day, but I was well looked after by my boys and soon was able to sort my kit out, check my feet which surprisingly werenÕt as bad as they had been leading me to believe Ð they were just hot! I managed to recover enough to swap shoulder/back rubs with Tom Ðmmmmmm! But now, Stage 3 is looming before me. My pack feels marginally lighter which is good, the sun is shining (obviously!), and there is good cheer in the field, the usual banter and camaraderie pervades the camp and even the folk who are already beginning to hobble badly are smiling.
6pm
Another day done, another day closer to conquering this beast. Today was a hard run Ð what day hasnÕt been! But it has been a blast with highs and lows. I donÕt have too many blisters, just one on the pad of my feet which has been duly treated by Doctor Mark!
The start of each race is great with everyone gathering at the corral area in front of the previous dayÕs finish line. Patrick Bauer greets us every morning, informs us of what lies ahead, wishes happy birthday to those lucky enough to be celebrating their birthdays out here, letÕs us know the state of the leader board, and how many people have already been defeated by the desert Ð not too many so far. Music blares out from a loudspeaker, and the atmosphere feels electric with adrenalinÉthen off we go. Everyone still launches themselves off at the start which amazes me, and I find myself by CP1 each day overtaking the same people who overcook the first 10k. Today the first 10k was a long flat slog across the plain from the desert towards a gap between some hills where there was a water station pump built by one of the race sponsors on a previous year, and in a small oasis of palm trees hid the first check point. I met up with Gary here and we set off along a sandy track through the hills for the next check point. Passing locals who hailed us loudly shouting ÒBonne courage mademoiselle!Ó Gary was making good going and although I was running I couldnÕt maintain his pace so fell back and trotted along in my own world - but pleasingly I was continually passing other runners. The route took us across a beautiful erg with sweet smelling grasses and out onto another long frying pan that then skirted round some hills which we eventually had to climb. I heard some amusing conversations as I ran across the frying pan, and passed three Frenchmen who always whisper ÒBonjour La MaximuscleÓ every time I pass them. As I entered into the hills the heat was rising, and the slog up the sandy climbs was quite arduous but the yomp down the other side surprisingly good fun. A few runners were sitting at the bottom emptying their shoes of sand Ð I felt sure there were dunes loads of sand in my shoes but was buggered if I was going to stop and empty them, I felt at this point that I desperately wanted to get to CP2 and have a rest and see what was going on in my shoes. I was feeling slightly down and in need of some sort of lift which as luck would have it came in the form of Jan, a really lovely English guy who I jogged with for a bit, but again couldnÕt keep pace, so followed him up to CP2 which was a very welcome sight. I took off my pack, ate an energy bar remixed my really delicious energy drinks, drank some water and took stock. Thought about taking my shoes off to see what was going on Ð something was, my feet were agony. Just as I was contemplating this course of action Gary hailed me and said that taking my shoes off was a waste of time, I should simply neck a couple of pain killers and join him on the homeward stretch Ð which is what I did.
The homeward stretch was magic. The painkillers were simply fantastic, and all my energy fuel kicked in along with them. The first few kilometres out of CP2 through a sandy valley with hills covered in loose black rocks on either side, which opened out eventually into a beautiful wider valley with a long gradually rising dune all the way to the top of what eventually became another rocky climb. Gary and I were marching at a seriously good pace and overtook runner after runner chatting about goodness knows what. But he was great company and we spurred each other on no end. About half way towards the rocky hill a race marshal was stationed handing out salt tablets which we gratefully took, she then said that just around the crest of the hill was the last couple of Ks to the bivouac and no more sandÉshe lied, quite considerably. Once cresting the hill we had to skirt around its edge which brought us out into another sandy valley and gradually took us down edging round the base of a series of small hills, and it was very sandy!!! But I was feeling on top of the world, I picked up my pace and was off, singing Duran Duran all the way. Up and down some sandy hills as the bivouac loomed into view, I couldnÕt stop myself really going for it despite some treacherous rocks littering the way. Passing a local Berber tent where there didnÕt seem to be anyone but a few goats I was singing very loudly, and I passed Jan about 100metres before the finish line Ð whoopee! And just a few minutes ahead of me collecting his water was Guy!! A big kiss and a hug were definitely in order and we made our way back to the CamelÕs Head where Tom and Tim were kicking back already chilling. Andy & Mark, and then Simon & Steve arrived back all in varying states of exhaustion and blister pain. IÕm still in awe of everyone, least of all my feet which put me through their paces everyday, but so far havenÕt revealed to much worry in the form of blisters!
As we all dealt with our kits, supper and the like, talk turned to tomorrow Ð Stage 4, the killer stage, the non-stop stage. 75kms or soÉ.Tim and I have made an agreement to do the stage together as we both feel that weÕre going to need boosting somewhere along the route. I am relieved as it has been playing at the back of my mind that I donÕt want to get stuck alone when night falls tomorrow as it inevitably will. Judging by comments passed by other runners this stage will probably take us at least 15-20 hours Ð ugh! I am so relieved to be running it with Tim, this interesting paramedic from York whose nickname has become Pervy! DonÕt ask!
29th March 2007
11.30am DAY OFF!!!!
IÕve done it Ð IÕve broken the CamelÕs back Ð IÕm beating the beast that is the Sahara Desert, actually I wouldnÕt say I am beating it but I feel I am earning the respect of the desert and it is allowing me to pass through it relatively unscathed!
The lights went out early on the eve of the big stage 4, to another restless night with the wind nearly blowing our tent away. Day 4 broke early and chilly, but bright with an added layer of tension and adrenalin. As the Berbers came amongst us taking down the tents and pulling the rugs from under us the CamelÕs Head let off a bit of steam courtesy of TimÕs Frisbee as we took our minds off the task ahead. I canÕt say it was a particularly athletic display as we leapt to catch the disc, but we did our best! The music blared out ironically playing The Eagles ÒHotel CaliforniaÓ, and other such tongue in cheek amusing anthems. We headed to the start line, greeted by Patrick cheering us on. Today, the top 50 runners (which includes awesome Tom), were starting 3 hours later than the rest of us slow coaches. So with Tom waving us off (at least I hope he was) we careered over the start line amongst cheers and hoots of goodness knows what. The going was already hot and a steady climb along stony ground. Tim and I picked a steady march as we set off up the first testing hill. With the temperature rising and the wind behind us we alternated between marching and running and made CP1 in good time and a good state, a quick refuel and we set off again. You could tell that everyone was pacing themselves differently today, parts of the route seemed more crowded and we passed people I hadnÕt necessarily seen before. The terrain to CP2 was a little tougher and stonier, oh yes, and hotter, but with similar tactics we made it to CP2 still going strong, chatting along the way. I had a silent Òthrowing toys out of my pramÓ moment when Tim mentioned his girlfriend Ð pah! What a shame! But as I ran along with my Indiana Jones look alike we soon moved onto other topics and also had to deal with the heat, and the varying terrain Ð I took quite a spectacular tumble as we were crossing a very dusty dry river bed and twisting dusty bank with what looked like dead tree roots all covered in fine powdery dust. It was the sort of terrain where it wouldnÕt have been surprising to come across dead carcasses. What was amazing was that ahead of us through the clumps of vegetation and twisting sandy hummocks was a huge golden dune field looming up ahead of another mountainous region of rocky outcrops Ð all looked miles away and was quite breathtaking. As we finally reached the dune fields I felt my spirits lift Ð I like dunes, and dare I say it find them relatively easy going hiking up them and then sort of yomping down the other side Ð I found them easier than Tim did IÕll warrant! They were spectacular and occasionally as you came up the side of one the wind would scurry up the crest and whip up the sand like a sand devil dancing ahead of us taunting us as we made heavy work over the loose sliding sand.
The tall flags of CP3 teased us over the ridges of the dunes as we kept peaking and then realising we had another one to climb, and then another one. There must have been a local village nearby as suddenly local children appeared asking for sweets and cheering us, teasing us by fairly skipping up the dunes, holding out their hands and sometimes pulling us along. Finally we crested the last dune and almost tumbled into the checkpoint. We both visited Doc Trotters here, to have some blisters treated and bandaged. As we were sitting there in the tent the two Ahansel brothers came flying through the checkpoint Ð blink and you missed them, and they didnÕt look as if they had run 30kms by this point, in fact they barely looked hot! Refuelled, and bandaged up Tim and I prepared to set off for CP4 when who should appear but Guy. He joined us as we left CP3 and set off on uneven sandy rocky ground round the base of some hills to a long hot sandy climb up the side of one hill. I was feeling shattered at this point and grumpy that we had to climb a hill. Tim was storming ahead up the hill and into the distance. Guy was somewhere behind me. Just ahead was an annoying French couple who seem to be doing the whole race holding hands Ð all very sweet, but they donÕt move out of the way and are a tad frustrating Ð well to me anyway! I finally scrambled past them and reached the ridge of the hill which took me to the other side Ð I had been hoping that possibly Tim would be waiting at the top, but he had clearly pressed on. This did slightly piss me off, I was feeling uncomfortably hot and my feet were throbbing from the rocky ground and the going downhill was steep and somewhat dangerous on the ankles. Some of the elite runners came past as if they were running down a gentle sloping hill not a great rocky boulder strewn sandy pass! Finally hitting the bottom I bid farewell to Guy and set off in pursuit of Tim who was nowhere to be seen. I chatted briefly to some guys ahead of me as I passed them and then hit what had to be the most beautiful dune field which would take me to CP4. They were huge golden dunes. The sun was now behind me and there was a gentle breeze Ð I popped some energy fuel and set off, singing full throttle following in the footsteps of those ahead of me, occasionally overtaking someone. The sky was deep blue and the view looked to me a vision of paradise, although my feet hurt and I felt tired, I sang loudly, had some random conversations with myself and let my thoughts simply fly. It must have been about two kilometres out from CP4 when I caught sight of Tim in the distance Ð I spurred myself on Ð I was going to catch him. I really put on some speed and with about 1km to go I caught him, as I joined him and hailed him I felt my energy simply draining away and stumbling on felt like the hardest thing to do in the world. I remember my mind searching around to cling on to something to drag me to the check point. Tim kept saying, ÒCome on Harry, itÕs just around the corner.Ó We rounded a dune, and there it was, just a couple of hundred metres over the sand. I felt the tears beginning and felt as if I could barely take another step even with Tim cheering me on. The image that came to me and pushed me to the checkpoint was a bizarre vision of my Luke and Matilda (my sisterÕs two children) grabbing my hands and pulling me along Ð it was almost tangible. Alison, Patrick BauerÕs interpreter was at the checkpoint and she gave me such a big grin, and told me I was doing so well. I couldnÕt actually speak at this point except to mutter that I was so tired. Tim left me alone for a bit, and then of all things to happen I lost my contact lenses. I stumbled blindly to one of the shelter tents and heaved off my pack and dug around for a new pair of lenses whilst the French maximuscle whisperers chuckled and teased me! Eyesight restored I joined Tim who hoisted my pack onto my back for me, with our fleeces on as the temperature was beginning to drop in the waning sunlight and we set off on the longest stage of the day to CP5. As we came out of the dunes, a Frenchman went past us and offered us a slice each of some oily parma ham Ð Manna from heaven Ð quite one of the most exquisitely delicious things I have ever tasted at that point! A few minutes later as we were huffing and puffing up a sandy dune Tom and Ian ran past us!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The two fastest Brits. We just hailed them and watched them open mouthed. Tom didnÕt even look tired!
The scenery at this point was very dramatic Ð with great flat topped mountains silhouetted against the gloriously golden burning sunset. But as the sun goes down in the desert so does the temperature Ð quickly. We picked up our pace to keep warm and broke open our glow sticks and as the darkness fell you could see this line of green and yellow sticks marking runners and route markings. We kept up our banter as much as we could, but having been going for over 8 hours and over 45ks tiredness was creeping up on us. At one point we yomped along holding hands which was a real mental boost Ð but how that French couple do it the whole time I will never know, cos it ainÕt long before your hand gets all sticky and sweaty! The terrain was particularly tough, loose stones and sharp prickly grass. But we battled on, egging each other on as to when we thought the CP would come into view. The lights of the landrovers were particularly deceptive. The wind was also picking up quite strongly and this was beginning to make me nervous as I had realised a fatal error being that my goggles had dark lenses and so probably not much good at night if there was a sandstorm. It felt like forever, but finally CP5 came into view and although it still took quite a bit of time to actually reach it we finally tumbled over the line and fell into a rest tent where we cooked up some much needed hot food Ð beef stew for me! I remember the sandy rocky path leading up to CP5 very well, the wind was really whipping up a storm and the Berbers were busy trying to erect tents for weary runners to shelter in. It seemed very chaotic and noisy with the sounds of people shouting across to each other in the wind. Tim and I sheltered in one of the tents and after several attempts got our stoves lit and our beef stews on the go. Never has hot food tasted so welcome. We wolfed down our food and replenished our snacks and drinks and gathered our wits ready to strike out for CP 6. I guess we must have taken about 20 minutes and as we were gulping down the last few spoonfuls who should we see coming through the checkpoint but Guy and Carlos! Guy is amazing, you think you are miles ahead of him and he suddenly pops up all smiles and stability. He and Carlos set off straight away Ð so when Tim and I finally set off we had a good target of catching them up. The wind had died down a bit, but even so Tim decided to wear his swimming goggles just in case Ð this caused much hilarity as he did look ridiculous and after a while he realised that the reason he couldnÕt see was because they were misting up and not because the air was full of sand. So with our head torches gleaming onto the path ahead of us and the trail of green glow sticks marking the way we set off for CP6.
The going to CP6 was long, tiring, varied, agonising, beautiful Ð everything really. We set off at a good pace and very soon stepped it up to a run. It felt good to be running through the night under the stars. It was quite surreal as there was no way of knowing what the scenery was like really. The ground was very stony and initially quite firm and so we were able to put on a bit of speed and soon the yellow glow sticks on the backs of Carlos and Guy came into view Ð we hailed them loudly and passed them and disappeared into the darkness. We picked a pattern of running between glow markers and then walking to the next one, and we ran as much as we were able to. Every so often a yellow glow stick would come into view and we would eventually pass another runner. The terrain became looser and stonier and it was hard to gain any purchase on it, even moving to the side of the trail in search of firmer ground was fruitless and we were reduced to walking. The moon was bright and the outline of dunes and hills was all around us, and it felt as if we were walking on the moon itself (although perhaps not as weightless as that would feel). Tim was simply wonderful, as he was often a few paces ahead of me and would continually shout over his shoulder, Òyou still with me Harry?Ó My energy levels wrere going through highs and lows, and I was fighting against the pain of my weary feet and the tiredness in the rest of me and my mind. Again we pulled each other along a couple of times. I remember entering what must have been a dune field as the noise of any wind dropped, there was the long spiky grass you find in dunes and it became very sandy Ð it felt like we were running around in the dunes in Cornwall at night and that perhaps over the top of one we would suddenly see the sea, yes, my mind was beginning to play tricks on me. The landrover lights from race marshals occasionally appearing in the distance up and down dunes were confusing and disconcerting; lulling us into believing the checkpoint was just over the next horizon. We began to bet on the yellow glow sticks as to when we would see the next check point Ð and Tim now owes me about a crate of beer! We were both in quite a lot of pain and searching around for the willpower and energy to keep going. We nearly ground to a complete halt at one point when a blister on TimÕs foot became pure agony for him and he could barely walk Ð he must have had to grit his teeth seriously hard to keep going as I donÕt think I was much use at that point. After what seemed an age some lights came into view in the distance, but as seems to be the nature of this race, no sooner did they come into view than the dropped out of site again behind some dunes. But the lights raised our spirits and gave us something to aim for and we hobbled into CP6 with great relief. It was a bizarre little checkpoint, lit up by some bright lights, a landrover, and a couple of tents. Tim disappeared promptly into the medical tent and after I had kissed the marshal who informed me we only had 6kms left to go and all in a straight line to the bivouac, I wrestled with my pack for some energy snacks and some pain killers. Tim reappeared and we both decided to push on for the finish, just 6kms awayÉallegedly! It felt like 60! Initially buoyed up by our snacks and pain killers we made quite good progress. We crested a hill where a landrover was parked with a photographerÉwe both ignored him and pushed on. Our chat was limited as we were both nearing the end of our rope and concentrating on the finish line. What was good was that we started overtaking quite a lot of other runners Ð we hadnÕt seen many for quite a while and it definitely lifted our spirits, although this was short lived as we then hit the dune field which clearly wasnÕt going to end. Not only was it duney but stony as well. I kept feeling the sensation of being on a beach in Cornwall Ð quite why I donÕt know, but it certainly kept me going! We passed a group of about five French guys and had a brief but amusing exchange with them:
ÒNous sommes cherche lÕhotelÓ
ÒOu est le restaurant?Ó
ÒCÕest fermeÉmerde!Ó
We kept feeling that literally round the next corner or at the top of the next dune we would see the lights of the bivouacÉand then quite suddenly it was there at the top of a couple of ÒsmallÓ stony dunes. We pushed on finally scrambling almost on our hands and knees and as we hit the flat we joined hands and simply flung ourselves across the finish line. Bjorn was sitting watching and gave me a cheer as did all the marshals as they rallied round us as we hugged each other, collected our water and stumbled blindly for the tent. Thankfully ours was just by the entrance to the bivouac, although it had all its sides down and finding our way into it was somewhat of an obstacleÉbut we flung ourselves in, greeted by the ever awesome Tom who brewed up the most delicious cuppa I have ever tasted and I wolfed down my biltong. We had done it Ð weÕd broken the camelÕs back. All of a sudden my feet didnÕt feel so bad, or anything, I just felt so relieved to have done it. Tim started feeling very cold and sick and it was tough trying to warm him up. Guy arrived and the four of us, with Tim in the middle wearing all his clothes and my fleece, huddled on one side of the tent to keep warm. The wind had picked up again and not only was it cold, but sand seemed to be coming through every gap in the tent. None of us was really sleeping Ð I felt wide awake and was chatting intermittently with Tom. Tim lay shivering and Guy was trying to sleep but chatting occasionally as well. Suddenly Steve appeared which took us all by surprise and as he scrambled into the tent he announced in his usual inimitable style, ÒWell, that was boring!Ó Ð He really is quite a character. Andy and Mark were not long following and we all soon settled down trying to sleep as sand blew in through the cracks, and we heard the noises of other runners stumbling in to cheers and claps in their various tents throughout the night. Simon apparently came in about 3am but went to another tent.
As the morning grew, so did our aches and pains and the definite feeling of relief that today was a day off! The sky was bright blue, the air was cold but there was much cheer in the tent as we all gradually eased ourselves out of our sleeping bags, and began to make breakfast and check out the true state of our damaged feet. My feet didnÕt look to bad, or so I thought Ð Doc Trotters was open and it seemed that on the day off everyone goes to have their feet checked out and cleaned. Tim and I queued up (he still had my fleece, and I was freezing!), when you got to the front of the queue you were given a seat, still outside the tent, and a bottle of liquid to squirt over your feet initially cleaning them and told to remove any plasters and bandages, and then put on weird blue socks to keep out the dust. Then finally into the tent I went Ð which was like some sort of field hospital inside Ð runners lying prone every few feet with their legs raised up and resting on small stools or on the lap of a doctor as they treated blisters and toenails and other worse ailments! I thought I had gone in to have 3 blisters treated and I came hobbling out having had 9 blisters treated!!!
At about 10am a message was passed round the bivouac that everyone was to gather in the middle for 10.30am as Patrick wished to speak to us. At about 3am in the night a French competitor, Bernard JulŽ, died, seemingly of a heart attack. This came as a great shock to everyone, and Patrick himself was clearly very upset. Bernard had currently been placed 45 in the race. It felt all the more emotional as we were all so tired and our emotions were extreme to say the least, and it definitely left a shadow over the rest of the day.
5.30pm
It has been a strange day. Many of us sending emails home to inform loved ones that all is well. Chatting amongst the camp with other runners, simply lying motionless on our sleeping bags, mending our feet. At about midday I wondered off into the dunes beyond the bivouac, stripped off and had a wash with a couple of wet wipes Ð nothing has ever felt so deliciously decadent, to be standing butt naked in the desert with the gentle breeze cooling me down in the glare of the sun, and then cheerfully hailing Chris and another Tom as they suddenly appeared over the dunes with the same idea in mind Ð at least thatÕs what they said!
I have chatted a lot with various people today and there are some really lovely people out here in the Sahara. Judith in the opposite tent is just lovely, from Cumbria, a single mum out here to find herself. Carlos, the Israeli, is a huge character. I have passed him about halfway through each stage so far, and he now hails me with ÒOh no, there goes my Nightmare Bottom!Ó as he says that is all he ever sees of me! He is the epitome of what this race is all about, he is always smiling and according to Guy who runs with him a lot he is always talking about food. There are so many personalities out here Ð not least in my tent Ð and I have tired stomach muscles just from laughing all week!
A very moving moment was when at about 3-4pm the alert went out that the last two runners of the field were finally home and about to cross the finish line. Everyone went to the finish line to stand and cheer them home Ð we could pick Diana out in the distance, with the two camels bringing up the rear behind her. The two Ahansels went out to help her cover the last few 100 metres and as everyone cheered and clapped it felt very emotional to be there and to be part of this incredible journey that we are all on. Everyone is so supportive and positive to everyone else, there is no elitism. We are all competitors but we are really only competing against the desert itself and the sense of fellowship is immense as we all survive togetherÉall the more so after the news of Bernard JulŽ.
At about 5.30pm everyday emails that have been sent to us from home are distributed. It is always quite exciting and slightly surreal at the same time to have these messages Ð and they come from family and friends not just back at home but from all over the world, from my friends in the States, Australia, China and Malawi. It is amazing and moving to realise that all these people are following my progress on the internet Ð I get the feeling from my family that neither my brothers or my sister are working much this week! The messages from the hospital in Malawi are particularly inspiring and are a good reminder of one of the main reasons as to why I am here, and knowing that the doctors and nurses in the QE hospital are cheering me on is fantastic. All the messages are great, and I am apparently moving up the leader board quite fast, apparently hot on the tails of some Frenchies Ð hmm, must overtake them!
As the evening draws in and everyone is preparing again for tomorrowÕs mammoth task of running a full marathon I am feeling the sadness that this amazing week is drawing to a close. There is an all consuming calmness about the simple simplicity of our day to day living, and each day waking up to push our bodies to the limit again Ð our bodies are amazing, and I donÕt really feel that I have reached my limit which is good.
I went and sat on a small dune with Tom and Guy as the sun went down, it was very beautiful and peaceful as we sat quietly watching the sky change colour. You feel very close to people out here and it was a very special moment.
30th March 2007
8am Ð MARATHON DAY
Last night was absolutely freezing with more sand blowing in through every gap in the tent Ð luxury camping this is not! Our tent was the first to be taken down this morning, as we gradually came to and began to warm ourselves over our camp fire, which attracted lots of eager hand warming people Ð in particular some of the Berbers! Breakfast, packing and feet bandaging ensued. We have an hour until the start today and the sun is finally beginning to warm the desert up. The Doors are being pumped out over the loud speaker. Everyone seems a bit slower this morning, and some definite limps in evidence, and now the carpets are being pulled from under us to the hurrying cries from the Berbers. The sand has now got into everything after last night. There is sadness in the air this morning, as many people wandered over to place a rock where Bernard JulŽÕs tent was pitched. I also feel the sadness again that this week is nearly over, I have felt so at home, here with my boys in the bivouac of crazy people, the sand, the dirt Ð there is a unique quality and atmosphere that I donÕt think will be captured anywhere else Ð something that has brought all these people together.
The respect that every runner here has for all the others is what makes it so remarkable. The two Ahansels have just as much for the slow heavy going walkers and plodders, if not more than for anyone else and that is what this race seems to be about; the something inside each one of us here that is giving us the will and determination to keep pushing on to the final finish line Ð which we now allow ourselves to visualise.
As for me, today, physically I feel good, limbs and muscles all ready to go, feet a little sore with the 10 blisters Ð but hey I know I can run 26 miles Ð so bring it on!
7pm
I did it Ð I completed the marathon stage in 6 hours on the nose.
The first stage I felt quite uncomfortable, couldnÕt find my rhythm as the terrain went up and down, crossing river beds and through uneven vegetation. I seemed to be running amongst a lot more people that I donÕt usually see Ð couldnÕt work out if I was going slower or they were going faster. I saw a bit more of Andy and Mark Ð so figured I must be going slower! I made it to CP1, feeling sore as I realised that I had forgotten to rub grease onto my hips where my front pack rubs Ð but the docÕs at the check point soon taped me up, and I was just loading my pack onto my back again as Guy, Mark and Andy appeared through the CP1 gate Ð I set off immediately Ð they werenÕt going to beat me today. A few munches of some maximuscle food which really seemed to kick in today and I set off to CP2 at a fairly haring pace. I caught up with Jan, and we ran along together for what must have been a good 5kms, but I was feeling full of energy (from where I donÕt know) and soon ended up leaving him as we entered some small dunes that actually became quite big dunes of bright orange sand. I hailed quite a few people as I yomped through them Ð in particular I passed Martin and Jo Ð havenÕt seen them out on the course all week Ð I must be getting faster! The heat in the dunes was stiflingly hot, as there was no breeze at all and it simply seemed to get hotter as we came out of the dunes and ran along the stony flat to the checkpoint. As I ran into the checkpoint I noticed that all along my left arm my skin was beginning to blister in the heat! I had put masses of cream on so not sure what was going on thereÉI put some more on, refilled my drinks and set off again. The last stage of the day was simply long and flat (although fairly uneven), but there was no pinpoint in the distance to run towards, just the edge of the horizon Ð although away to the left loomed the Merzourga dunes, the largest in Morocco which tomorrow we have to cross to get to the finish line! They were quite far away and yet still looked huge! The horizon never seemed to get any closer and although I was running constantly and singing loudly, I could feel that my energy was beginning to drain. I munched on another bar but couldnÕt escape from my hot feet and my itchy arm and was running out of the willpower to keep singing Ð trying to find the inspiration to keep going was beginning to feel a bit desperate as my brain seemed to be emptying, when suddenly I remembered that I had my ipod! Eureka, and so for the first time whilst running I plugged into the headphones and just hit play Ð the grooving tunes of Faithless filled my head and gave me a new rhythm to run to and my pace picked up again and the horizon didnÕt look quite so far away. I felt two runners coming up behind me as we crested a small hill at the top of which was a landrover with some lovely race marshals who told us we only had 2kms to go! One of the guys behind me over took and ran ahead to the finish, but the other one who was called Brian fell into step with me and we finished together, sprinting into the finish line holding hands. There were a lot more people cheering in the last few hundred meters today Ð families and friends who have come out for the last night Ð and it gave the finish line a good atmosphere. I felt absolutely shattered though as I had really pushed it today, I stumbled to my tent and literally flopped. Took me quite a while to come too, and I was fed nuun tablets by Chris from the next door tent which did a great job in reviving me! Whilst returning from my ablutions I met Cameron from another near by tent Ð the guy who over took me just before the finish Ð he apologised saying that there was no way he was going to let a girl come in before him Ð cheeky sod!
We went to the finish line to cheer Guy and Carlos in as apparently Guy had been having troubles out on the course today Ð but they finished strong and well.
TomÕs birthday today Ð he passed around a small bottle of whisky in honour, I have to say it tasted rank but hey. ThereÕs been lots of laughter and banter this evening Ð especially when the Paris Opera singers struck up Ð very surreal and somehow totally inappropriate! But we soon bedded down to our last night in the desert knowing that all that stands between us and the finish line is 12kms, albeit 12kms of the largest sanddunes!
31st March 2007
7pm Final Day
ItÕs over. I have done it. I have run through the Sahara Desert and I have survived, and survived well. I am shattered, I stink and my emotions are all over the place.
The last 12kms were tough, the run itself was ok with a flattish 5kms to start with before we entered the dunes. They were beautiful, but seemed to go on forever. I found myself running again with Jan as we heaved ourselves up each dune. Never have I been more pleased to run with someone. He is simply lovely and it was evident that we were both nearing the end of our energy and mental resources, and both of us felt quite emotional as we neared the end of this magnificent journey. He certainly kept me going through the last few kilometres. As we began to crest the last few dunes, family members were there cheering people home. And then blissfully the finish line came into view just over the last dune Ð we both picked up pace and then sprinted for the finish line and into the arms of Patrick Bauer who greeted us with a hug, kiss and a beautiful medal. There were cameramen, race marshals, doctors Ð everyone crowding round the finish line Ð a reporter thrust a Dictaphone in my face and asked me how I felt and what the race meant Ð I have absolutely no idea what I answered as the emotions were all building up in me and as I made my way out of the finish area the tears simply started pouring down my face. I found Tom and Tim and we watched and cheered the others over the finish line before heading to the buses to bring us back to the hotel. We had to wait quite a while sitting in the sun, and it has been hard to take it all in that weÕve done it, we have FINISHED! Photos, drinks came out, hugs for everyone. Steve finally came in and we heaved ourselves onto the bus for a very long and hot, cramped ride back to Ouazarzate.
We have earned the respect of the Sahara Desert, it has allowed us to pass through, and for me it has crept into my heart with each grain of sand. It has been a magical week. I have met and become friends with some of the most wonderful people I am ever likely to meet. I feel very privileged to have been a part of this week. I have fallen in love, with several fit men, but also with the Sahara Desert, and I know that I will be back.
Tring2Town2, 13 February 2007
Well folks, the sand dunes still seem as daunting as ever, the sandstorms still terrify me every time I think about them and my ability to deal with the heat remains unanswered. However, on Saturday 10th February 2007 I proved to myself that I could cover a seriously long distance without too much trouble - or so it appears on the surface! On 10th February 07 I took part in the 45 mile race, Tring2Town2, one of the ultra distance events run by Ambition Events (www.ambitionevents.com). The day did not start well!
I woke at 5am, showered, made some porridge which I ate whilst listening to sleet battering down at my kitchen window. My flat, bed and everything around me felt warm and cosy - however, after a few last checks that I had everything I was going to need: energy bars, bananas, sweets, energy drinks, water, warm clothes for later etc., I quickly weighed my pack (7kgs) and set off for the bus stop. A good 10 minute wait and no bus in sight, I walked to the underground. 2 minutes into the journey and the tube stops - signal failure on the Northern Line. I missed 3 trains leaving from Euston to Tring, just managed to get on the 7.24am, beginning to feel flustered. Upon arriving at Tring station, the weather was simply a steady downpour of rain. I had 20mins until the start of the race and felt reasonably ok that I would make it. Having stood for 10 minutes in the rain I felt less confidant - finally the guy driving the shuttle minibus came to pick me up. I got to the pub where the race was beginning with 2mins to spare and had barely attached my runner's number when the whistle blew! I was runner number 34 in a field of 61 (lots of wussy dropouts due to the bad weather!).
So there I was, heading off onto the Grand Union Canal tow path at the beginning of the Tring2Town2... 45miles back to London. I wasn't feeling good, my panic at possibly missing the start of the race and not feeling I had sorted my pack and gear out comfortably were distracting me and I took a good 2 miles to settle into a comfortable rhythm whilst listening to the banter of a few runners around me. I headed off into my own thoughts and world and soon gave up trying to avoid slushy snow puddles and face up to the fact that I was going to have wet feet for the whole race! My initial problem was a desperate need to pee! Yep, normally organised about this, but this time there was no getting away from it and I could think of nothing else. Not having really met any of the other runners due to my hectic start I was reluctant at this point to take a quick pee at the side of the path and the area was rather residential - I think it was about mile 8 that desperation overcame dignity - but fortunately no one was around! Pushed on then for Check Point 1 at about 11miles. A few friendly faces and shouts of encouragement, a quick banana and brief chat to a fellow MdS runner Nigel, and I was on my way.
The running was quite tough as the terrain was very muddy, slippery and wet - although there was lots of bird life and things to see along the canal it was basically a case of eyes down and concentrating on the job in hand, that said I did in true "harry" tradition go for an absolute purler at about mile 13 in the mud, to my great relief I sustained no injury and no one saw me end up flat on my face - although at check point 3 several eyebrows were raised as to my excessively muddy state!
It is rather bizarre running such a long race in such a small field... I found it mesmerizing to try and see the runner ahead of me - which sometimes was a good distance away but knowing that for the most part I was alone. I always wonder what I think about when I am running, and I don't I will ever really know but somehow the miles slip away - although the brief phone calls from my brother and parents giving updates on the Six Nations rugby scores was a definite boost.
The sun came out at checkpoint 3 (about 28 miles into the race) where a bag of jelly babies was gratefully broken into and some banter sent me on my way again towards checkpoint 4. Checkpoint 4 was a big one on my horizon not least because it was 33 miles which meant only 12 left to go, but because my sister was manning it. I kept firmly in my head the big hug that I was going to receive, however at about 31 miles my energy was flagging and I was having a brief respite and walking. Two rather good looking fellow runners caught up with me and insisted that I keep them company - well what could I say! Coupled with running alongside two fit fellas and contemplating seeing my sister I would almost say I sprinted up to Checkpoint 4 - at least it felt like I was sprinting. A big hug was received, several fig roles were munched, then me and my two companions set off for the last slog home. We all kept pace for a fair few miles, but I couldn't keep their pace and around mile 40 let them go.
Protesting muscles in my legs and feet were becoming a bit more noticeable and the straps from my pack around my middle were definitely beginning to chaff. With about 4 miles left to go a text from big brother Nick "keep going, you toughie", and also with thoughts of knowing that if I gave up now then I was never going to make it in the Sahara kept me pushing on. At about mile 42 a couple of other guys went past me and that was it, no one else was going to do that! On went the ipod and the thumping beats of Faithless filled my head and injected some sort of adrenalin into my weary legs as the rain began to drizzle again and night started to close in. As I pushed on into the last couple of miles, entering into London and approaching Little Venice, pushing past bemused people out walking home from a sensible day about town all I could think about was being able to just stop. Running along the tow path, (although it was probably more of a shuffle by now) through the murky darkness the blinking lights of London at night twinkling back at me, reflecting off the canal, the finish line (or pub) loomed up and a small group of people gathered by the gate calling out as I tripped up to them into the arms of the organiser, Rory Coleman as he put around my neck a medal which felt simply BRILLIANT! 9 hours and 11minute... not bad for my first ultra distance. I had been anticipating somewhere between 10 and 11 hours, so I felt pretty chuffed!
A cup of tea later and being driven home by my quite fantastic sister, Catherine, to a hot bath and supper was perfect. Aching muscles and tender feet aside I was feeling rather pleased - and knowing that in the desert after the long stage I will have to get up and follow it with another 26 miles the next day... no problem... at least it won't be raining!
Mount Kilimanjaro, May 2006
Coming soon!!
Marathon Des Sables |
 Dublin 2006 |
 Daymer Bay 2007 |
 Pentire Point 2007 |