This video and the music sums up day 2 of the long stage. It begins with triumph as racers victoriously emerge one by one. Around 45secs into the video, the feeling and images pan to those of runners who finished on day 1: wander, rest, eat and sleep.
Tent 58 started our day welcoming home our last member. It was a cool when we went together to greet him at the finish. It's amazing that such bond can be formed in only a few days. It reminds me of an excellent quote from Ken Chlouber, miner and creator of the Leadville 100:
"Make friends with pain, and you'll never be alone."
After we were all safe and sound, I spent the day stretching, lounging and eating. Unfortunately, it wasn't an all-you-can-eat. Far from it. I took the idea from a tent mate and spread my food over the day, about 100cal per hour. This way, I was never to far from a meal :) Between "meals", I thought to myself, 'how amusing. We all just ran 76k, 105k over three days before that, have a desert marathon tomorrow and we're scrounging for calories.'
what's with the massively long line?
Oh, and how could I forget, the can of Coke that the organization so gracioulsy bestowed on each runner at 4pm. It was the talk of the day. Simple pleasures.
Ahh, now I get it!
best Coke on the planet is in the Sahara, just have to run 180k in 4 days to get it!!
CP4, standing in some shade, I could sense the gas tank was still full, 'keep it steady, bide time til the sun goes down.'
On the other side of 4 was more dunes. YAY! This time, however,
would be more of a struggle. Just past half of the 7k dune section, I
began to think it would never end. Then, luckily, I spotted that orange
cut-off shirt I had come to know so well, 'Glenn!'
pic by Mark Gillett
It had been
some time since I spoke to anyone, and this was a pleasant surprise. We
exchanged a couple stories, some motivational quotes and went our
separate ways.
I reconnected with those Hoka footprints
and followed them straight out of the dunes and onto solid ground.
Almost immediately, my legs began churning faster, 'this is what I've been waiting for!'
With 21k to go, shadows were getting longer, temp was hot but getting cooler and mostly hard ground from here, 'time to loosen up.'
The run in the run/ walk was getting faster and longer. Passing a lot of
people, my confidence was building. Running on flat, rocky
terrain, I was flying into CP6 (relatively speaking).
BEST RUN OF MY LIFE
It
wasn't dark, but getting there, so I dropped my pack in CP6, got rid of my
buff and hat, put on the head lamp and fixed the mandatory glow-stick to
my pack. As I was doing so, the 5th and 6th elites came in. They were
quick to take off and it dawned on me, 'following the other guy's tracks through the dunes worked superbly. It's getting dark and sandy here, so follow these guys.' Jumping to my feet, I locked my eyes on them and took off.
pic by Mark Gillett
Stride, stride, stride, 'breath deep, hold core, loosen legs.' Leaving the walking behind, I was only thinking one thing, keep them in sight as long as possible.
After 2k, I noticed they hadn't pulled away. 'Wait, am I gaining on them?'
Another k, check my watch, 6min/k, 'not bad'.
Further along, I caught up to them, 'really?!? What do I do?' So, I did the only thing I wanted to do. Ran right past them!
5k
to go, racing between clumps of camel grass, lungs pounding and heart
racing, I decided on one last walk break before pushing for the finish.
30 seconds and they passed again. Of course, I went with them.
"Hey,
there go a few of the elites," I heard from a group Brits as we
passed. Fully aware the men I was running with exist in a different stratosphere and had started 3 hours
after me, I knew the Brits had mistakenly included me in the comment,
but that didn't make it any less cool :)
Another k down the road and now fully dark, I was running well but stumbling over rocks that I just couldn't see. 'Okay, this has been incredible, but unless you want to end up face down 4k from the finish, you better slow down.' So, I did.
Down to 7min/ k, the real elites pulled away, and I was left to enjoy the darkness alone.
pic by Mark Gillett
FINISH
Continuing
toward the white light on the horizon, it wasn't getting any closer.
Struggling a bit, I started a game to keep me engaged, 'you want to finish this stage top 100, right? The guy in front of you is 99, you're 100. Better get moving!'
This continued with each successive person until that white light began to get closer. I couldn't believe it.
Stage 4 (the long stage): 75.7km, lots of sand and dunes
The long stage is special for a lot of reasons. For starters, there's two days to finish. So, those who finish on the first day can take the second to rest. "Just keep going. No matter how, finish in the first day." That's the recommendation from most race vets. Unfortunately, those who don't finish on day one spend the night somewhere along the course, get up the next morning and press on.
Another unique aspect is the staged start. Us mortals take off as normal around 8.30, while the top 50 overall and top 5 women let there nerves twitch until noon and head out under the mid-day sun (because being a top competitor isn't tough enough!).
pic by Mark Gillett
My day began with the same morning routine. Only something was different. I felt better than ever ;)
Following yesterday's success, it'd be crazy to change my approach, 'start at 1.5k run/ .5kwalk, reduce through the heat, when the sun goes down, put it all out there.'
As I read the road book and pounded the day's strategy into my subconscious, our much faster tent mates continued to sleep. They still had 6hrs to wait.
8.30-ish, and I was dying to get moving.
pic by Mark Gillett
Start to CP1 was the same as stage 3, 'Ahh, I'll finish last at this rate.' 'No, stick with it. It's a long road ahead.' Back and forth mentally and leap-frogging with some folks, it all eventually settled.
Out of CP1 and feeling good. Then, the stomach struck, 'Ahh, really!?! It's so early! Knew the extra dinner and breakfast were too much!'
Alternating relatively flat sand and rock, I was into CP2 physically good but mentally deflated from 3 pit stops. 'This is going to take all day stopping every few k.'
With that, and full bottles of water, I pushed on.
The heat was turning up, and I had dropped to .5k/ .5k, except for some lengthy sand sections which were all walk. As the course wound past an incredible mountain range, I wondered how long the mountains had been there. Legs were going forward, but my brain was lost in the clouds trying to comprehend the enormity and history of this place. Wow.
Up next, just before CP3, was a bush 'forest'. It was odd that so much vegetation could survive in such a harsh climate. Just another reminder of how amazingly diverse the desert really is.
CP3 came and while I was filling my bottles, the first elites came flying through. 'Wow, what took me 7hrs, they did in 4.'
Straight out of CP3, I left my stomach problems behind (YAY!), picked up my spirit and went into the dunes. As I trudged through, I noticed another elite pass about 5m to the left. 'Hmm, I'm following the same line as everyone else, except the elite guy.' Saying this to myself, it dawned on me, he probably knows desert running a little better than the rest of us. With that, I went 'off-course' and found some harder sand.
Honing in on his shoe prints (Hokas), I shut my brain off and just followed. It took me where I never would have gone, up and down and zig-zagging, but all on harder sand saving some much needed energy.
5k of dunes and my most vivid memory is the sun. So strong, I actually felt like my backside was on fire! 'Maybe black shorts were the wrong choice!'.
Eventually the dunes ended (phew!), and I hit CP4. Standing in some shade, I could sense the gas tank was still full, 'keep it steady, bide time til the sun goes down.'
Stage 3: 38km, lots of sand, riverbed and a mountain
Surely I wasn't the only one, but Tue morning was rough. I eventually recovered enough last night to get protein and dinner down, but my stomach was feeling weak, shoulders exhausted and attitude barely above sea level. 'Okay, nothing's working. What to do?'
Luckily, some of the vets in our tent were tossing out advice, "It's going to be really hot today." "Don't over-do it, the long stage is tomorrow." These coupled with my desire to finish strong in at least one stage led to a run/ walk strategy, 'start 1.5k/.5k and shorten the run as the heat turns on. Focus on breathing, engage core and relax shoulders and neck. If good at the end, let loose!'
After breakfast and prep, it was off to the start (stomach a mess).
pic by Mark Gillett
"Living easy, living free
season ticket on a one-way ride
asking nothing, leave me be
taking everything in my stride
don't need reason, don't need rhyme
aint nothing I'd rather do
going down, party time
my friends are gonna be there too, yeah
I'm on a highway to to hell
on the highway to hell..."
Run, run, run, and at 1.5k, I pulled to the side. The world began passing me by. 'Really?!? Another k and you'll be in dead last!.' But, I was determined to stick it out for at least one stage.
pic by Mark Gillett
Run, walk. Run, walk. Leap-frogging with the same people, anxiety began to settle. More importantly, my stomach was also settling.
Into CP1 at 13k, and I had actually pulled away from my original leap-frog friends. 'This may actually work.'
CP1 to 2 felt slow. A mountain pass (small by day 2's standards) meant single file for some time and after we came down, it was a lot of sand. As frustrating as it was, I walked most of the sandy part, 'stick with it, don't be a hero today, tomorrow is what counts.' During the walk, I came along a Frenchman who had lived in and traveled Asia. We traded stories as the k's passed. Once the ground was decent, I took off.
The final stretch to CP2 was dry river bed and my legs were desperate to run, '6k to the finish, let's let loose.' With that, I came running out of CP2. Still on walk/ run, but the run was really moving. Passing folks left and right, my legs were getting lighter and looser with each step. '3k to go, scratch the walk, run it in and carry positive energy into tomorrow.'
Across the line with an ear to ear grin and a hungry attitude. 'Finally raced my race. Feels like the gas tank was barely used. Bring on the long stage!'
This was my lowest place and slowest time yet, but that didn't matter. I had stuck to the plan and felt in control. What a difference a day makes.
After a decent night of sleep, it was straight to the oats. 'Wow, running 40k sure makes it easier to sleep on rocks!' Feeling okay, it was morning routine time: eat and organize while still in the sleeping bag, roll the bag, water pick-up, brush, pack, bathroom, water bottles and to the start.
Mentally, I was excited for the mountain stage. On the road, I fancy myself a climber, so was hoping that may give me a leg up. The only concern was never having done a proper off-road race and my overly cautious approach to anything remotely technical. Was hoping the first would outweigh the second.
Anyway, AC/DC came calling and it was on.
pic by Mark Gillett
The first 7k were relatively flat, so plan was run to the first mountain, then walk the inclines and run where possible. Shortly after the start, I was quickly realizing that flat in the desert, doesn't mean easy. The road book said 'flat terrain with few stones' and 'some stones' which is interesting. There was no space anywhere for a single flat footed step! (somehow, secretly, this grows on you :) Mountain 1, Hered Asfer Jebel - not difficult or technical, just long and beautiful.
excellent pic from Jean, new friend and fellow racer
Feeling okay after the first climb and descent, I jogged it into CP1, 12k. Heading out, it was getting hot, so walk/ jog to take in food and make sure I was getting enough water.
Mountain 2, Joua Baba Ali Jebel
Hit the second and this is where I began to realize I'm not equipped to race this race. Getting up the mountain was a struggle almost falling backward at some points. Once at the top, my core was aching.
A technical 2k on what seemed like a knife's edge (one of the best and hardest parts of the week). That whole bit about climbing outweighing technical skills. Forget it.
another pic from Jean
coming down the other side CLICK FOR A BETTER VIEW! pic by Mark Gillett
People either blowing by me or noticeably frustrated to be stuck behind a slug on a single track, I came off the second mountain tired and low on self-esteem. Luckily, I happened upon Glenn who was nice enough to share a few macadamia nuts. 'So salty, these are awesome!' Mountain 3, El Otfal Jebel, 25% avg gradient
CP2 was at 24k, just before the monster that everyone talks about. This was one of the things I was looking forward to the most, and boy was I excited!
Looking at the mountain, I broke it into 3 sections: rocky start, sandy middle and rocky finish on all fours.
Rocky start was long, started with a low gradient and slowly built.
near switch from Rocky Start to Sandy Middle click to see the trail of people back to CP2 pic from Glenn, cheers bud!
At the end of rocky start, I stopped for a few minutes to catch my breath and take in the scenery. Then, it was time to churn my legs.
On reaching the start of the rocky finish, I stopped for another break. Between hand holds, friendly chat, strains, awkward positions, more breaks, grunts and a few smiles, I got to the top. Maybe one of the most difficult things I've ever done, and totally worth it.
pic from www.darboud.com
oh yeah, after all fours, there's a final push through sand to the summit the sand's so fine and gradient so steep, they gave us a rope pic by Mark Gillett
me at the top, view was awesome pic by Mark Gillett
At the top. Unreal.
Thinking the toughest part was behind me, I took one last glimpse and began to descend. Unfortunately, the toll of the day was catching-up. As the elevation lowered, so did my attitude.
On hitting the bottom, I had relegated myself to walking the final 3k. Looking forward to flat walking, I soon realized what was ahead.
Any wind I had in my sails, officially blew out. Looking every which way for some shade to take a break, there was nothing. Stomach churning, legs weak, light-headed, 'this must be the last one.' Reaching the top, 'uhhh, more to go.' Trying to focus on my breathing, it reached a point I'd never experienced. Eyes closing. Hard to keep them open. Falling asleep?!?
Reciting every last positive quote I could remember, eventually hit the flat. 'Okay, I can do this. Just under a k.' Better, but still struggling, a friendly face pulled up beside me, "Ahh, Glenn." I didn't want to let on how bad I was, so I tried chatting, "Want to jog it in?" 'Really?!?' I couldn't take it back, so we jogged.
Over the finish, and I was not good. Queazy. Fidgety. 'How will I carry 4.5l of water back to the tent?' I plopped in a chair in the shade at the water tent. After a while, I stammered to my feet, got my water and headed for the tent.
Once there, I greeted my tent mates with two things on my mind: 'don't let'm see you sweat' and rest. Little talking, no recovery food, no stretching. Music, lay down, close eyes.
Stage 1: 37.2km, a little of everything (rocks, sand, dunes and climbs)
living on the sun's time, one of the best parts
Race day! Up with the sun and anxious buzz of 1,000 finely tuned desert adventurers. 6am and straight to breakfast to give my stomach time to digest for an 8.30 start. Oats with luke warm water (yummy!), dried fruit and almonds followed by packing. Over an hour of prep and packing: brush teeth, bathroom, sunscreen, hat, buff, glasses, shoes, gaiters, packing, de-packing, re-packing...
The morning was chilly (maybe 15C/ 60F), so I was reluctant to lose my long sleeve shirts, but they had to be packed. All part of the de/ re-packing.
all set!
Tent 58 feeling the excitement
Then, finally, after all the training, hype and anticipation, it's time for the start line!
pic by Mark Gillett
Standing there was awesome. The heart and soul of not only the 1,024 runners, but also the love and support of everyones family and friends, it was intensely fantastic! With that, the words of our leader Jay rang in my brain, "Too many people take it out too fast on day 1." Suddenly, this was overtaken by AC/DC's Highway to Hell, which could only mean one thing: 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, GO!
From the start to checkpoint 1 (CP1), it was all a blur, 'take it easy, short strides, electrolytes, salts, drink, breathe.' Though I do remember seemingly hundreds of people streaming past me, looking at my watch and seeing a sub 7min/k pace, 'now I understand Jay's advice.'
checkpoint water pickup pic from www.darbaroud.com
checkpoint grabbing some shade pic from www.darbaroud.com
I arrived at the CP1 with a lot of water still in my bottles, but I was feeling fine, so only topped up, chugged a bit and dumped the rest (big mistake!). On I went.
Managing about 6.30min/k, I was feeling fantastic. Then, we hit a proper climb which continued for about 1.5km. I didn't want to walk, but all the vets say walking the hills is to conserve, so I did. Man, was I happy I did a few k later when we hit dunes. They weren't terrible, but they did seem to drag on, especially after I had slowed to a walk. Running up these things was pointless and the breaks in between were so short any walk/ surge, walk/surge strategy cost more energy than the time was worth.
Coming in to CP2, the greatness had washed away. Stomach was iffy (pit stop 1) and head was a little light. But, some greetings and encouraging words from the volunteers lifted my spirit.
Unfortunately, the boost was temporary. A few k and two more pit stops later (NOTE: 'I knew you ate too much pre-race!!) I was down. Pretty light-headed at this point and low morale from all the stopping, I dropped to a run/ walk strategy.
The walk was all about deep breathing and recover for the run. Took some time, but I snapped out of it. Still with the walk/ run, but I was now overtaking people, feeling strong and giving encouragement to anyone who needed it.
Just after 30k, I came upon another American and shouted some positive words. It wasn't until I was a few meters passed that I realized it was a tent mate. We had a brief chat, she was struggling and asked me to pass a message to some friends. I offered salts and continued. I was so far inside myself that her message didn't ring out until a couple hundred meters later, 'sick, dizzy, not thirsty'. What was I doing?!? I turned and walked back.
We joined up and walked together to a medical truck where they ran some tests: vitals and blood sugar okay. She took down a concentrated salt solution, and we continued on our way. The whole process took 15 to 20min, and I'd be lying if I said part of me didn't want to take off, but more of me wanted to stay and make sure we both finished the day. It was in that time, sat on a rather uncomfortable rock under a blazing sun and slight shade of the medic jeep that I learned a whole lot about this race: support, teamwork, friendship. That's what'll get me through the week.
The medics walked us to the top of the hill, made us promise to walk to the finish and let us go. 1k later, she turned to me, 'Wow, I'm feeling so much better. Let's run it in.' So we did.
