Friday, 22 April 2016

The Highway to Hell

Well, its all over, I completed it, just about .... its taken me a few days just to come to terms with it and to even think about trying to capture what the race was like ... I've finally gotten over the post run blues and now think I'm ready to try and convey what it was like out there ... it won't be easy, it wont be pretty and I'm sure I will go off on numerous tangents, so forgive me, hold on .. here goes !




We'd sort of worked out who was going to be in our tent prior to arriving in Morocco, it was just a case of making sure whoever was first at the bivouac grabbed one and looked menacingly at interlopers who wanted to join before the rest of the party arrived. I must say, I was so blessed to share a tent with truly great people, selfless in their behaviour, very encouraging and incredibly helpful. Quite simply, if it hadn't have been for these people, I certainly wouldn't have made it across the finish line and for that gentlemen, I salute each and every one of you ... in no particular order ( perhaps alphabetically ) ... Richard Carpenter, Leon Clarance, Oscar Jackson, Ted Jackson and last but no means least, Chris Sparrow, it was an honour to share tent 152 with you guys.






Registration Day




The next day was registration day, we'd heard stories of how you'd end up queuing all day long to get through the process, passing from one check to another and so on. Well, that may have been the experience in previous years, but it was a breeze and we sailed through registration in just under an hour. Kit was not checked, we just had to sign a form saying we had all the required kit ( and agreeing to spot checks to make sure we weren't lying ), ECG was checked by the doctor, salt tablets, race numbers and sweatbands handed out. Finally photographs taken of us with our race number looking very clean .... it was the last time I was that clean for over a week ... check out the tie and camel club badge, I'd been initiated into a band of very select individuals who had provided much laughter in the weeks preceding the event ... I'm honoured to call them all friends.







It was at this point that the camp got the first sighting of Ted Jacksons; running kit for the MdS, he'd decided to attempt it dressed as a camel, here he is, astride said camel ..... the cause of much hilarity around camp.



We were fortunate enough to have a wealth of experience in the tent next to us, in the form of Elizabet Barnes, who actually won the female race in 2015. We even went for a quick job of about 4K with her just to have one final road test of all the kit and check that the rucksack was fitting correctly and so on. Many will be reading this and thinking so what, but it was the equivalent of going for a run with Usain Bolt. Finally, we had to endure the race briefing, which they tried to make as funny as they could, but when your working with dry material, its not easy, the 'highlight' being how to use the bags to poo in .... yep, that's as funny as it got, being shown how to have a shit !



Day 1; 34 Km, maximum permitted time 10hrs 30 minutes; start time 09:00 hrs


We'd been taunted by the sight of the dunes for the past 1 1/2 days and today was the day we were going to try and conquer what are known as the largest dunes in Morocco, not a bad way to start the week ! The sight of Patrick doing his dad dancing on top of a jeep, singing happy birthday to people and the strains of Highway to Hell were going to be the standard introduction to each stage, but as it was the first sighting of his dancing I felt it worthy of mention here ( and never again !).


A short 3 Km run to the feet of the dunes, then a whole 12 Km of dune and what dunes they were, this was no gentle introduction to the Sahara, it was a full on fight for survival, just to get the the first checkpoint, which was 15km into the course. I'm told that some people dropped out on reaching the first checkpoint, that's how brutal those first 10-11 miles were.



From there, we were supposed to have some relief in the form of fairly flattish sandy course for 6Km, then stony ground for 3km ( it was this type of ground that was going to determine what my week was going to be like, but at the time I didn't know it !). 24Km in and we hit the lead mining 'town' of M'Fiss, apparently it was going to be another highlight of the day. However, the weather had other ideas, the wind ripped through the landscape at a rate of knots, sending sand and tiny lead particles flying everywhere, visibility was down to about 10 feet at most and all you could here was the wind swirling around, very very eerie ! I'd noticed my bag was weighing me down quite a bit, it felt like someone had put rocks in there, so I decided to check it out at the next checkpoint and redistribute the weight better .... I'd not followed the advice provided ( which was to pack the heavier items in the sack so they'd be closest to my back ) and I was paying for it. Once I'd had a chance to do this, it felt much better, but I'd paid the price as my legs were starting to feel a bit heavier than expected. Someone made an analogy about tackling the dunes - it was like running up a 'down' escalator, for every two steps forward, at least one was lost due to the sand falling away from you. A couple more Km on the stony ground and then we had another 4 Km of dunes to tackle before reaching the bivouac for the evening.

Back at the tent, I used the 10g titanium cooker for the first time in anger to heat up some water. About 20 minutes later I was pouring the tepid water over my dehydrated chicken tikka .... it tasted nice regardless. Made a decision there and then, I was going to give the fuel blocks away as I could cope with eating the food cold ... and save a bit on the weight of my pack. Coincidently, upon speaking to others, they were all of the opinion that someone had placed rocks into their rucksacks as well, undoubtedly testament to the savagery of the course. Once fed, we took off to the finish line to cheer across the competitors who were still out on the course, including our very own Ted Jackson and his camel suit. Several times, we could make out torches in the distance only for our hopes to be dashed upon seeing that it wasn't him, then in the darkness, we could make out a silhouette of a camel, he'd made it, a fantastic effort, high fives ensued as he crossed the line.



It would turn out that just 18 people dropped out on the first day, however, the race organisers extended the cut off time by an extra hour, and even then allowed several people who were late across the line to start the next day, purely due to the conditions that were endured on the day.


Position for the stage - 543, time for the stage 7 hours 14 minutes, elevation gain 991 feet




Day 2; 41.3 Km, maximum permitted time 11 hours, start time 08:30 hrs


So, what's the ideal tonic after a horrendous day in the sand, I know, a distance just a few metres short of a marathon. Apparently, the first 12 Km were of small dunes, to just warm us up after the previous days efforts (according to the road book !) ... aye, they warmed us up alright. In fairness, it was a lot flatter than the previous day, that said, I think we could have climbed Snowdon 5 times and it would have still been flatter than the first day. From there, it was a mixture of surfaces to run on, some rocky, some dry ground, some hard mud ... it was just passed check point 2 that my injury occurred. I was doing ok, hitting 13 / 14 minute miles and feeling quite good about myself. All of a sudden the ground under my left foot falls away from under me, forcing me to twist in order to stay upright ... instantly felt a twinge at the back of my knee, so I slowed to a walk while I tried to work out how bad an issue it was going to be.




From here, I walked and occasionally ran ( just to test the knee out), it was painful at times, so I opted to walk the remainder to try and limit any potential damage and keep me in the game for the following days. It was a fairly unremarkable course in all honesty, terrain changing from time to time, a fair amount of sand but nothing like day 1 which was a godsend for everyone. At the time I wasn't aware, but people were dropping out at a rate of knots ... in total 66 people fell by the wayside. Some were timed out, you had to hit the checkpoints within the designated time or you were out, others were ill and I mean very ill, helicopters lifted some to safety, whilst others were rescued by jeep. It became common place to see people receiving saline solution via drip out on the course. I popped in the Doc's again, couple more blisters and to get some advice about my leg.


Apparently I'd strained a tendon in the back of my knee, painkillers were administered, but I knew there and then, that I wouldn't be able to run as much, if at all, of the remaining course, the terrain would simply not allow for that type of punishment without risking having to pull out permanently. So, it was time for plan B ( which I didn't have at that point but quickly made up ... I decided that I was no longer going to compete for as best position as possible but just ensure I complete the distance, I hadn't trained for 9 months to find myself having to pull out due to injury, this was going to be a long slog !). Minimal blisters, but some worrying hotspots on the soles of my feet, primarily due to having to overcompensate due to the knee, it was obvious that I was going to get blisters there, which would smart, it was just a case now of how long I could go without them becoming an issue -  I was about to find out over the next few days !


One other minor kit adjustment today, someone had shared a space saving idea about rolling the sleeping bag up with the mat, to save space in the rucksack. Great idea, however, the extra weight of the bag, hanging from the sack, made a difference, so for the second day in a row, I changed how the bag was loaded, again, once the sleeping bag was inside, I could feel a world of difference. Maybe the idea would work well if the mat / bag were loaded at the top of the rucksack, but suspended underneath, just proved too much, and something I hadn't done when training, so I hadn't got used to it, no drama, just an observation and trying to make it easier for myself.



Position for the stage - 612, time for the stage - 8 hours 20 minutes, 661 feet of elevation gain.






Day 3; 37.5 Km, maximum permitted time, 10 hours 30 minutes, start time 08:30 hrs

Sandy terrain, small dunes, mounds of sand, big dunes - the roadbook had numerous ways of describing sand dunes ... by now, we'd all come to understand that whenever one of the phrases was used above, it was sand dunes. The Docs out on the course were telling people to double up with the salt tablets, 5 had already dropped out early on stage 3 and dehydration was a major problem due to the weather conditions. If it wasn't sand it was the rocky, stony terrain, I found this much worse to cross, every step was starting to hurt due to blisters ... in fact, I was starting to enjoy the sand, it was a pleasure to walk / try to run on, as it was the less painful option. I was quite proud of my efforts up to a point, I was able to keep a decent enough pace with my quick marching, and I felt like I was more or less holding my own position wise across the field. 17Km in and we hit our first proper Jebel (mountain), it was only a 450ft climb, but it was steep and with the sun now starting to cook us, it took a lot of effort to get to the top, from which, the views were simply breathtaking. Didn't hang around too long though, had to push on ... back into 'small dunes' again. Once clear of the dunes, more stony terrain and it was here I had my first dark moments of the race.



My eyesight was starting to get a bit blurry about 28Km in, I felt weaker with each step and I was starting to worry what was going wrong .... I'd been drinking water sensibly, and had enough left till the next checkpoint ( about 4km away ), salt tablets had been consumed .... I had to sit down, just rest a while ... I felt like I was fading away a bit and the blurriness around my eyes was now quite noticeable. I was contemplating hitting the "I'm a celebrity get me out of here" button that we had on our GRP trackers. However, more water and salt tablets were taken, and food .... that's what it was, I needed food, I'd gone through 2 checkpoints without taking on any food and it was payback time. Ripped open the chorizo and devoured it like some Neanderthal caveman .... what the other nationalities must have thought as they past me, lord knows .... and I didn't really care at the time. Within 5 minutes I was feeling so much better, clear eyesight, full of energy again, there was just one thing left to do, I needed to empty the tank so to speak ... so there I was in full gaze of at least 8 other nationalities, having a dump in the middle of the desert .... I'd ran out of the bags that we had been supplied with for such circumstances, so I had to leave it there, as a sign of defiance against the desert. The next few miles passed uneventfully until checkpoint 3, at which time Leon joined me for the last 5 km to the finish line for the day. Final highlight of the days efforts was passing the ruined town of Ba Hallou, very eerie indeed.

Once back in camp, another visit to Doc Trotters for more treatment to my feet and some more painkillers. Blister had now formed on the soles of both feet and needed slicing and dicing before being cleansed with what felt like acid, but was 'disinfectant' according to the French doctor ( likely story !). Emails from home finally arrived, I had felt like billy no mates in the tent, but they'd been sent to the wrong tent for the first two days .. it was good catching up with a few days worth of mails, they were a vital part of the recovery stage at the end of the day.

Position for the stage - 688, time for the stage - 8 hours 23 minutes, 807 feet of elevation gain.


Day 4; 84.3 Km, maximum permitted time, 35 hours, start time 08:15 hrs


This was the big one ... 84 Km, ok the cut off time was generous but the terrain was insane. It all started fairly well, nice flat ground to speed across. I'd taken the advice of a fellow sufferer and had fashioned some walking sticks ( which I had er 'obtained' from the bivouac, tent poles essentially), I wrapped tape around the top to prevent blisters and my tent mates gave me some blister shield powder for my hands just to make sure, turns out they were an absolute god send. I'd suggest anyone other than elite runners, who are contemplating doing the MdS, should take a pair of walking poles with them, they reduce impact on the ground of your feet and aid ascending and descending dunes, mountains, the lot. Yes, you;ll need to train with them to make sure they don't keep getting in the way. My 'Gandalf sticks', as we called them got in the way about 5 times over the remaining 3 days, little issue given the help they provided me. First checkpoint of 7 was reached and it was then that we spotted the first major obstacle of the day, a massive climb up El Otfal Jebel, the racebook describes the climb as " a difficult ascent ", they weren't kidding. There was a huge traffic jam of people waiting to begin the climb as others further up got to grips with the conditions / terrain / ropes ( yep there were ropes to help you climb 30% gradient !).





It must have taken well over an hour to get to the top, by which time, the convection oven was at its highest setting ... much water consumption was going on, and it was a fair old distance to the next checkpoint. From the base of the other side of the mountain, we could see that we were headed towards a gorge, it didn't look that far away but it did take some time to reach there, via checkpoint 2. Before we reached the gorge, the elite runners ( top 50) started to go past us, they started 3 hours later than us and had caught up with us before we had managed to cover 10 miles ... totally amazing running from the lot of them. Through the gorge we went and were treated to a degree of shade, so time to get a few minutes rest in the shade, it was bliss .... then we were faced with a dry lake bed, that stretched on for around 5Km, it may have been more or les, difficult to judge the distances in the heat. Reaching the far edge of the dry lake took another lifetime, we could see what looked like tents in the distance , so we assumed it was checkpoint 3, buoyed by this we gained speed, only to fail totally dishevelled when we saw it was nothing like a checkpoint. There was a jeep, for one of the course administrators, but that was it. We were greeted by more shade, and at least two more people requiring saline drips, have I mentioned how brutal the conditions were yet ? A new phrase was now evident in the roadbook, "deceptive sandy rise" which essentially meant climbs up the side of a mountain which happens to be covered in sand. Feet were really hurting by now, every step was like walking on broken glass, worse still, if we stopped for any time, it would take around 5 minutes to get back up to speed again, as the pain had to be managed !


 Here I hit dark moment number two ... again, I'd misjudged my nutrition, and felt totally devoid of any energy and I was tempted to hit the button again. Thankfully, tent mate, and marching buddy Oscar Jackson persuaded me not to and made sure I got more water / salt inside me to tackle the next Jebel, before reaching checkpoint 3. At checkpoint 3, I was finished, no strength left in me whatsoever, I needed a sleep ... fair pay to Oscar, he knew what I needed and that was some food and painkillers ... all administered, I went from total wreck to looking a bit happier within 15 minutes. We spent a bit of time here just resting and letting the food / medication I had taken take full effect on my body. I think within 40 minutes, we were ready to rock and roll, whilst others were receiving more saline at the checkpoint.





We were joined at this point by Ben, great guy who had a burning desire to photograph every inch of the desert, and for that I'm thankful, see above ! We formulated a bit of plan, get to checkpoint 4, have some food, then crack on to checkpoint 5 for a few hours sleep. Its exactly what we did ! At checkpoint 4 I had my cold rehydrated chicken tikka, and drank a cup of cold coffee .. yes it was delicious by the way and provided a great energy boost. I had a few more cold coffees throughout the rest of the week once I had found how nice it was ! Checkpoint 5 was upon us after we had climbed another 'deceptive rise' .... we were greeted by bodies everywhere, sleeping, in deckchairs ! Also a fully functional tea hut serving sugary tea to provide us with more energy, had a cup of that as well and it was hot ... not as nice as a cold cup of coffee but beggars cant be chosers ! Sleep was an easy thing to do, yet I still managed to wake after around 2 1/2 hours and get ready for the remaining howver many miles we had left. We set off from here around 3am in the morning, walking through the desert in pitch darkness, save the lights from our head torches is a memory that will stay with me forever. It was stunning ... quiet, breathtaking, I cant think of adequate enough words to describe it, a truly meditative experience. Sunrise was just as spectacular as we made our way across a desert of broken glass towards checkpoint 6. There was still around 12 miles to go at this stage and the sun was starting to get higher in the sky and the temperatures starting to rise. Ben and Oscar stayed longer at the checkpoint, to get some foot treatment amongst other things, I said I'd push on, hopefully they had no objections ! There was another 'deceptive rise' to conquer before we could see checkpoint 7 ... and also we could see the finish, around 6 miles away across a large dustbowl cooking in the convection oven. Past the last checkpoint and I set my sights on the finish line, however, some bugger keeps moving it further and further away, I go on for an hour and it feels like I've made no progress whatsoever, other than get warmer and more tired. I begin to notice how wet my feet / toes are feeling. In fact, with each step of my left foot I can feel a toe nail scrapping the underside of the top of my trainers ... this means the toe nail is at 90 degrees to my toe, it shouldn't be like that should it ! Theres nothing I can do about it now other than carry on and get it treated in camp. As I begin to make progress towards the finish line, I pass two people receiving treatment within a mile of the end - how cruel for them to last this long ... within minutes they are loaded onto the helicopter and ferried back to camp for more treatment, their race is over after covering around 53 out of the 54 mile stage 4 .... how you pick yourself up after that I have no idea.


Back in camp, once I stop the pain really hits and I'm unable to stand up. I need medical treatment but am unable to walk to the doctors. My tentmates try in vain to get the docs to come and see me, but they wont make an exception as I am conscious and breathing ( apparently they'd have seen me if I had met those stringent conditions !). More great work from my tentmates who force some food inside me, they really looked after me. I begin to worry that a trip to the doctors will spell the end of my journey, there's no way they'll let me carry on once they see the state of my feet .. my feet .. my feet, hang on, I haven't actually seen them yet, how bad are they in reality. Bad was the answer, blisters everywhere, 26 hours of walking / marching has obliterated them, the blisters on the soles being the most painful. However, my big toe on my right foot was one big blister, forcing the toe nail up in the air like the other toe on my left foot ... wish I'd taken a photo as it was quite a sight. A bit of rest and I make it to the Doc and wait in line for a few hours before I get treated. The docs were great, relieving the pressure under my nail ( essentially making a small hole in my nail, draining the pus and injecting iodine or whatever it was to cleanse and prevent infection). They even fashioned some insoles to put under my own insoles to ease the pressure on my blisters, they did such a fantastic job, I was able to stand unaided when I put my trainers on, the game wasn't over and I was determined to finish the job. They even wrote a special message for me on my feet !





Position for the stage - 815, time for the stage - 26 hours 22 minutes, 2415 feet of elevation gain.

Day 6; 42.2 Km, maximum permitted time, 12 hours, start time 07:00 hrs

Excerpt from the roadbook "Apart from a short dune section, the first 13.5km are relatively flat but sandy. After CP1 more sand, some slight uphill and downhill sections but not major difficulties until until 20.9km where the course takes the runners up a sandy pass. At the top of the pass a descent to CP2 at 24.2km. No respite after CP2 with a sandy climb. Followed by small hills, a dune section until 28.9km. Short respite as the runners enter a gorge, only to enter another dune section before CP3 at 34.2km. More sandy hills and dunes until 40.7km where the runners cross large tracks and finish the last 2km on gravelly flat terrain to arrive at B5"

Today wasn't going to be a day for anything heroic, far from it, it was to be one of measured output, making sure nothing stupid was done to jeopardise getting to the finish line. Around 140 people had not made it this far, and I was going to be number 141 ... so, a number of us soon get into a group and we move along at a fair pace until past checkpoint one .. we didn't want to get timed out. From there it was a more sedate pace, plenty of chatter and everyone feeling happy and making jokes, even the race marshalls joined in, by driving alongside us playing their music so we could here it, the tunes were pretty rubbish though ! We all let out a loud cheer on seeing the last checkpoint of the competitive race and photographs ensued, and people made preperations for the final assault towards the finish line adorning themselves in their countries flags, club running tops and so on.



I tried to do a video blog on my go pro over the week but the sound didn't come out that good so I need to spend some more time editing it .... I may just superimpose some music and let people look at the scenery. Anyhow, I tried to speak into the camera here, so overcome was I by emotion, it looked like a silent movie, I was moving my lips but no sound was coming out ... it was  a weird moment and everyone seemed to take a few minutes to recognise the enormity of what had been achieved. It wasn't much further from the final checkpoint to the finish line ... even managed a gentle jog across the line purely for photographic purposes ! Here's a selection of pics from that moment !






Position for the stage - 898, time for the stage - 10 hours 33 minutes, 931 feet of elevation gain.

Day 7; 17 Km, ridiculous charity stage ... why oh why 17 km ??

Yes, that was the question on everyones lips, why so long for a charity stage, still just a case of grinning and bearing it ... needed to get to the end to get my medal and I hadn't come this far not to collect that ! About 1Km before the end I saw a welcome sight, Ted had come out to meet his son and he greeted me with the news that he'd brought some beer as well ... heaven.






No times for this one, but overall I had come home in position 783, in an accumulative time of 60 hours and 53 minutes. On reflection, its easy to see that day 4 cost me at least a hundred places, however, if I had pushed harder, it may have cost a lot more and that wasn't a prize worth chasing given what was at stake. Would I change anything if I were to tackle it again, or course, some things at outlined above, others will need more time to muse over .. one things for sure, the desert creates a hunger that's incredibly difficult to satisfy !


I'm sure there are huge chunks I have missed out, which may come back to me in time, but for now, that's all I'm able to capture .... maybe I will revisit this in a few weeks and tinker with it a bit more !


Several 'experts' have come out and said that the MdS had gone up a gear this year, in terms of the route the course took and the combination of high temperatures, high winds and low humidity. I'm not in a position to say it was the hardest ever, but these ever present people certainly ranked it amongst the hardest ever and that's good enough for me ....





Thank you everyone who has played a part in my journey from fatboy to fitboy ( well sort of) over the past few years. Those who have shared their training time with me, their advice, those who keep sponsoring me despite asking repeatedly for money, those who are able to provide raffle prizes and so on, the list is endless. Finally a massive thank you to my family and my wife Louise, who patience I have tested numerous times since signing up for the MdS, there is absolutely no way I could have done this without you, this is as much your achievement as it is mine, and for that I love your dearly.

Til next time (whatever and wherever that may be !)

Fatboy !