Whilst in departures a voice said ‘Are you Richard’? I turned around and there was a Vaughan and Anne (husband and wife). They were doing the event and we had kind of agreed to meet at the airport but made no actual arrangements. They had recognised me from my distinctive yellow and blue Raidlight rucksack, which Vaughan also had.
We sat at chatted, as we did for much of the next week and I learned a lot from them; both really nice people who look way younger than their age. I thiknk it'a all the running that makes them look almost 10 years younger! They are both outstanding ultra-distance runners, taking part in Long Distance Walker Association (LDWA) events 3 weekends out of every month! They of course enter as runners, and not walkers. Just the weekend before, both had completed the Wales 100 mile event in about 29 hours! Ivan (another tentmate) had also completed the event too, but a little slower I believe. Quickly I discovered they had also completed the 2006 Marathon Des Sables, placing 180th and 181st (I was very impressed). It was during the course of this conversation that I realised that we had kind of met before. Whilst taking part in an LDWA event in September 2006 called ‘Hills and Dales’, I was walking the event, as was caught up by the runners (on a later time start). I chap ran past me, pointing at my rucksack saying “MDS”. I said ‘Yes, I’m training for 2008’. He ran on, but it turns out that was Vaughan. It’s a small world eh?
We were seated separately on the plane, but got a coach to the Bordeaux airport, and then got on the train to a small village called Lesparre. On the train we were joined by another UK entrant, 33 year old Matt. Matt has a military background, with tours in Iraq, Afghanistan and Sierra Leone!! He is now in the fire service. He had competed in these kinds of events before, but not for a few years as I understood.
We all chatted and got to know each other during the train journey. We also said hello to our other French fellow running ‘nutters’ all kitted out with familiar rucksacks etc. At the train station we were met my Gerard, the organiser of the competition along with his wife Caroline. Gerard is a very nice guy; his wife is lovely too, both very hard working with a clear passion and attention to detail for this sport. He is another former MDS competitor, placing 31st in one year. A short 20km drive to the coast and our first bivouac at the campsite Pin Sec.
Pin Sec is a basic municipal campsite with a couple of toilet blocks and a shower block. They are traditional French squat toilets though. These are basically a hole in a porcelain plate on the ground with a flush. They are not very pleasant. There was a little village of about 60 black 2-man Raidlight tents, with 4 tents facing each other to form a ‘house’, who shared a camp stove. Our house was called something like Anouchout?? All of the UK competitors had been put in this ‘house’. The site also had a large marquee which served as the admin tent, as well as the dining tent for that first day. Additionally, there was an inflatable tent which was the medical base.
When we arrived we had a light lunch, from a large catering HGV lorry, the likes of which I have never seen. The whole trailer was one big kitchen decked out with the kind of kit you would expect to see if a big restaurant. The food which they served to us that day, and I assume to the admin staff all week, was superb. I found their website, if you want an idea of what it was like http://www.haute-savoie-construction.com/pagesHTML/wAEveRest1.html
I shared a tent with Matt, Anne and Wade had one, and we were joined later by Owen and Tony from Ireland. Both Owen and Tony are military, both talented runners. Tony is a veteran of an event in Egypt very similar to the MDS. Again, both really nice blokes, not sure of their ages, but under 30 I think. Also joining the camp was Vance, an Australian now living in London. Vance has a cycling background (his build gives it away), but was just taken up ultra-distance too. Of all the competitors in our house, Vance has the most potential to really excel in this sport, because of his fitness and his age. The final member of the house was Ivan, an incredibly fit chap, doing his second La Trans Aq’. He finished mid-field last year, has done lots of training, as was looking to improve. I already knew, but it was clear I was the ‘rookie’. Everyone was very supportive and continued to give me information and tips.
These are my tent mates, minus Owen and Tony who must have been hiding.
Left to right: Anne, Vaughan, Matt, Vance, Ivan
That evening everyone got their kit together and generally took it easy. I went for a wander along the beach with Matt and continued to pick up interesting bits of info. About 70 competitors arrived that day, and the rest the following day. Sunday was the admin day. First was the medical check. I nervously queued with my ECG. My ECG shows abnormalities which was due to endurance training, and I hoped the doctor would pass me fit. She opened the ECG checked the ‘wave’, seemed happy and just noted down the heart rate from the ECG readout which was 53bpm. She checked the medical certificate from my doctor which stated.
“Richard was had a brief medical, including cardio pulmonary check, blood pressure check and peak flow. I can confirm that Richard is fit to participate in a multi-stage race of between 30 and 60km carrying a backpack weighing less than 8 kilos.
That last bit was a condition of entry that must appear on the certificate. The doctor then said ’OK’, retained my paperwork and sent me on my way. Yay!!!! Medical passed!
Next up was the kit check. I had my rucksack and my small bag. The small bag could weight a max of 2 kilos, including the bag weight and would be returned to us after stage 3. The organiser did this as a deliberate effort to keep the pack weight down to less than 8 kilos. My small bag weight in at 1986grams and only contained food for the latter stages, no clothes or luxuries.
I added some extra socks and an extra roll of Leukotape into my rucksack at the last minute at my pack (without water) weight in at 5.6 kilos. So, with the 1.5l to start, it would have been 7.1. Just what I was aiming for really, and what I had trained with.
We get a briefing and are given our day 1 roadbook, the map for the day basically.
We handed in our suitcases, had the pasta party that evening from the superb caterers, and went to bed early to get ready for the 9:30am start. We decided that evening we would need to get up 2 hours before the start (so 7:30am) to give everyone enough time to cook, dress and prepare for the start.
Stage 1: Pin Sec to La Gracieuse.
Distance: 27.7km
Elevation: 386M
Cut off time: 5H 02 Minutes
Everyone wakes up and starts to cook and get ready. I put on my breakfast, which is the same every morning. 60g of oats, 40g of powdered milk, and 20g of honey coated banana chips – 620 calories. Breakfast goes down well, but I am a little rushed to pack, tape up my feet and get ready as I was the last to cook. We take our roadbook to be stamped and collect our 1.5l bottle of water. I push my smart tube into the bottle and push it into my Raidlight front pack. I then secure it tighter to my chest using an extra strap that I have sewn onto the main Raidlight backpack. My front pack also contains 100g of my trail mix (40g banana, 40g cashew nuts, 20g M&M peanuts) and one electrolyte powder to decant into my bottle at the checkpoint.
We all make our way to the start line where the organiser’s words are translated into English.
The weather is mixed, cloudy with sunny intervals, mid 20’s temperature and humid. Having already established my credentials as the least experience person there, I make a decision to start at the back of the field. That way I figure no one can overtake me and cause me psychological trauma! Matt also starts with me too. Cinq, Quatre, Trois, Deux, Un, and we are off!
Immediately a whole bunch of runners go a completely different direction to the one shown in the road book. I was a little puzzled, but follow the main pack forward over the dunes and onto the beach for the first 5.7km. My haste to pack is almost a disaster when someone shouts to me and points behind. My Thermarest sleeping mat and other items have fallen on the floor. I hadn’t closed my pack properly! Matt stuffs the items back in, zips it up and secures the clips I had forgotten. I won’t make that mistake again! So I really am right at the very back on the beach. We run together for a k, but then Matt zooms off ahead and leaves me to jog past a few competitors who are a little slower than me. The beach has quite a camber and this upsets my knee, even despite the cho-pat knee brace that I am wearing on my right leg. Next I get a slowly creeping numbness in my right foot. I curse because I get this a lot and it usually ends up with me taking off my shoe and trying to rub feeling back into it. Wearing my gaiters over the shoes would just make this a more time consuming task. I run on and after about 4k the numbness goes away, never to return again all week!
Just before I get to the first control, I see the group of runners who split off coming streaming down a dune to join the main pack. In this case their short cut does not look to have gained them much time. At this point a word out short-cutting; the route is set, but it is impossible to police it all. The organisers do add in extra checkpoints or balise points (self stamp checkpoints) to stop some severe short cutting, but basically it’s not possible to stop it all, so they say that people can do some orienteering because they can’t prevent it. We were here to try and run 230km, not 220km or less. It did annoy me sometime when I would pass people and then pass them again 10 miles later. I saw people the night before plotting compass bearings on every page of the roadbook to try and get time. Ordnance survey maps were also banned, but there were one of two using those as well. I certainly wasn’t here to run less that the advertised distance, and that view was shared by others. As a rule I generally didn’t use the roadbook as the route was so well marked, so I wouldn’t have known where to shortcut anyway!
Anyway, we reached the first control, which is basically a few people making down your time and number as you pass. At that point we exited the beach and climbed up the dunes into the forest. I had decided to run at my training pace of 5mph (8kph). The next 5k were all on paths marked as S2 or S3. At this point you need to know what this means:
S0 - No sand. tarmac, cement or chalk path
S1 - Firm Ground, probably no sand
S2 - Surface sand or path slightly blocked
S3 - Surface sand always present or cluttered pathways
S4 - Soft sand. A few possibilities to avoid it.
S5 - Soft sand everywhere.
S2 and S3 were sandy paths, you lost traction a little, but overall they were manageable. At 10K I hit the first Balise. This is a little flag in the ground where you take to take out your roadbook and stamp it with the unique punch. Soon after the forest paths became very narrow indeed, lots of ups and downs and a couple of very very steep S4 sandy hills that slowed you to a crawl. This terrain was quite tough I though. At 15K the only aid (water) station. I got my book stamped and was given my next 1.5L bottle. I hadn’t used all of the original one, so I poured it over my head to cool down. The humidity was high, even if the sun wasn’t in full view. I poured half of the water into my 800ml shoulder mounted Raidlight bottle and added 40g of electrolyte. The narrow twisting paths continued to the next balise, where I was shocked to catch up with two of my tent mates, Irish guys Owen and Tony. Tony had packed walking poles and had them out already. I slowed up to say hello, and it became apparent that Owen was really only waiting with Tony as he was struggling. Tony asked if there were many behind me. I said ‘a few’ but not that many’ (or so I thought). Anyway, I ran on and left them, but soon was passed by them again. I guess me catching up had spurred Tony on a little. They remained in sight for the remainder of the run though.
At the next balise I emerged onto a lakeside. We were warned that the last 6k was very ‘acrobatic’ and it would slow us down. I hadn’t appreciated this until I saw it. The path at the side of the lake, was literally right at the side of the lake! One foot to the left and you were in the drink. To make matters worse it was subsiding in places and I saw Owen being pulled out by Tony, who shouted me a warning. The narrow and very sandy path had short steep ups and downs and was frequently blocked by knee or head-height logs. I was forced to crawl or climb over many such obstacles, which really did slow me down. I hadn’t expected the route to be quite so challenging. The doctors were on the lake in a boat as there was no access by road to our remote path. They sped up and down checking on everyone. The lake was the biggest I have seen I think, at 11k long and 7k wide! Not following the book I had no idea how long was left, but was trying to estimate from my GPS. I was working in miles and not Km though, so it was never exact. One final forced-to-walk sandy-S5-hill later and the finish came into sight. I trotted down to the finish to the clapping of my tent-mates all of whom were already in of course.
It was universally acknowledged that the terrain was much harder, and far sandier than any of us had anticipated. I finished in 3:49:54 in 100th place out of 128 starters.
This was better than I had hoped. I really had expected to come in last. I mixed up my Rego recovery drink and had it straight away. The day was a short route and so it was still only 1pm. I realised I was hungry but I only had my main meal and a desert to cook, and that was not really due to be eaten until after 6pm. I did however have quite a bit of the trail mix left and so that satisfied me. Anne and Vaughan were cooking cup-a-soups, and I made a mental note to pack some. They had packed what appeared to be such a lot of food. They were always eating and I was very jealous. I started to wonder if I had made a terrible mistake in my calories. The minimum was 2000, but I had packed about 2600 for about 600grams of weight each day. The secret to ultra running they told me was food. Make sure you have plenty; plenty of ‘tasty’ snacks to eat along the way as well. I was learning.
The campsite at La Gracieuse was by the lakeside.
The camp had no facilities except the portaloos that the organisers provided. It was a very pretty spot and we were told in the briefing that Gerard had imaged this route and this spot to camp 25 years earlier! No one had abandoned today, all 128 starters had made it. Everyone clapped. Gerard said he wanted to see all 128 of us at the end of stage 2 as well.
As it turns out, that wasn’t going to happen.
Stage 2: La Gracieuse to Le Leon.
Distance: 44.2km
Elevation: 633M
Cut off time: 8H 50 Minutes
The 8:30 start this morning, meant everyone was up an hour earlier in the early morning mist.
I didn’t sleep that well, and was up and cooking first. I wanted to make sure I was ready with time to spare today. As we were getting ready Tony asked if anyone wanted any of the food he held out in a plastic bag. I should have jumped at the opportunity, but didn’t want to deprive him of any calories or take any help. Matt had made a mistake in his packing, putting the wrong food in his small bag, and so grabbed an extra meal. I finished breakfast and we all got ready when someone said ‘where is Tony?’ Owen said ‘he’s quit, he’s OK physically but his heads not in it. Yesterday he was saying “Why am I here etc”. He must have said “I’m quitting, does anyone want any of my food”, but no one heard the first part. We think he didn’t really want to announce it too loudly and just go. The organisers and some of the tent mates tried to talk him out of it, but he was not having any of it and his mind was made up. He got in a minibus and that’s the last we saw of him.
It was quite a shock and put a bit of a downer on the morning as we lined up on the start. We got our water again, and after the briefing we were soon off. It was noticeable that everyone started a little slower this morning. It was an extra 10 miles and the course looked tough. There was lots of S3 and S4 and lots of hills even before the first balise. I had started out only slightly slower than the day before, again with Matt at the back. He had done well one day one, but his feet were sore from his trainers and he said his training lacked distances over 18 miles. However, he ran off ahead at a quicker pace. Every track we travelled on route was sandy.
We crossed the odd road as we passed by a control point or aid station. I passed a tiring Matt soon after and didn’t see him again in the stage. Other than that up to 20k was all very hilly and very sandy forest track. At 20k there was a welcome cycle track for almost 4k but straight after back into a short forest track before emerging onto a road. Across the road was the path beside yet another huge lake. This time the path was wider, sometimes 10M or more, but still sandy! The other thing about this lake was that it was flat. That might sound welcome, but at this point (around 26k) I was starting to tire a little and would have welcomed some downhill. To add to the misery there were people have BBQ’s in their houses surrounding the lake. Such wonderful smells of food I could not have! I followed the track around the lake and was really very tired at the second and final aid station at 32km. I sat down for 5 minutes, took off my pack and filled up with more electrolyte. I had used electrolyte from the start that day, which was a mistake. I was not so much sick of the taste, as sick of the sweetness. This is where I craved a more savoury snack to refuel on.
I had passed quite a lot of people early in the stage, but as I continued and my pace slowed at least 10 passed me by, perhaps a few more. This was demoralising, and gave me one of those lows that I wondered if I would even finish the stage. There was still 12k to go and it seemed like an eternity. At 37k the route finally left the lake and soon after into pretty scenery. The doctors passed by in a 4x4 and asked if I was OK. I said ‘Je suis tres fatigue, mais d’accord’ – I am very tired, but OK. A couple of S4 sandy tracks later and an official on a quad bike said ‘only 5k left’. According to my GPS there were 5 miles left, but I trusted him. My faith was misplaced, because a couple of K’s later at the next control I asked in French how far to the finish. 4k they told me. Half a K later I asked another control how far. They also said 4k!!!! Not long after the sandy forest track was split by a concrete cycle path. Typical cycle path shown below.
I knew this was 3.5k from the end and we followed the path right to the end. The path only had mild undulations, but every climb forced me to walk. I just didn’t have enough legs left to run. Me and another shattered competitor yo-yo’d each other as we ran, then walked. Eventually just as the ending came into site, he was a good 100m ahead. It was a long 0.5k very steady descent. He slowed right up as I ran beckoning me on. I came along side 100M from the end. He put his hand up and we clasped hands and finished together, everyone cheering as we crossed. I remembered that gesture for later use.
It had taken me 6:45:55, I had come in 103rd, and I was really shattered. A few of my tent mates were at the finish to greet me. We waited for Matt for quite a while but he didn’t appear. I went back to the tent and had my recovery drink. Matt came in 35 mins later, just as we were starting to worry. He had found it very hard. In fact, everyone had found it very hard. So much climbing, twice as much as the day before, the sand and the endless lake section really took it out of everyone. Vance, who had stormed the first day, had a pulled something in his left leg half way round the course. He had hobbled in, still well ahead of me, but was worried his race could be over. It was a tired and worried campsite that night as we knew on top of today’s monumental effort, tomorrow was even further, another 10k on top in fact. I ate my Mountain house dehydrated meal, which was lovely, but I was still hungry. After I had my Rego Nocte recovery drink too (I had two recovery drinks each day) that filled the hunger-hole to some degree. I checked out my feet and applied two Compeed plasters to areas that I suspect may blister to hopefully prevent it. That evening No sooner had we had the roadbook and briefing then we finished any eating and went to bed, at 8pm. We had to be up at 5:30 for the 7:30 long day start. There had been 2 more abandons that day.
Stage 3: Le Leon / Cap Feret
Distance: 54.2km
Elevation: 387M
Cut off time: 12H 03 Minutes
We woke up and it was still dark. I wondered if my eating early the previous day had contributed to me tiring early, so I waited until last again, spending the time taping my feet. My feet were still in reasonable shape, but I knew that I could expect blisters soon. I made a tactical decision that morning. I felt that if I could survive the long day, I would survive the whole event and that was more important to me than a faster time. Because of that I analysed the route and announced that I was going to only run the downhill sections and fast-march the rest, hopefully saving my energy for the last 10k which was all on the beach to the finish. On the beach I hoped I would then have the strength to run in and take some places. Much to my surprise Matt and Vance agreed, and Owen had decided to keep Vance company because of his damaged leg.
I also decided to not use electrolyte until I really needed it, hopefully not until the second aid station. We got our water for the day and we were off. All four of us stayed together, doing exactly as planned up to 6 miles in, when Matt decided to run on. At 8 miles Owen (who was still in great shape) ran on ahead and that was the last we saw of him. Me and Vance caught Matt up some miles later. We had him in sight for a while. He would run fairly quickly, but then slow down to a slow walk to recover. So us just marching fast eventually caught him up. He then stayed with us up to about 20 miles when he could no longer keep up our marching pace and dropped back.
The route was much flatter than we had expected but inevitably sandy. This is a picture of the typical tracks from both this and every stage. Not easy to run on, and very demoralising.
We knew the elevation was almost half that of the previous day, but because of the bigger distance it was all more spread out, and just seemed endlessly flat. Had we been in better shape from the previous days effort if would have been a good course to run.
Not long after Vance decided to march even faster and he slowly slipped out of site as well. This left me on my own, but I decided to ‘stay on message’ and stick to what I had planned. I caught Vance up again about 5 miles later and we stayed together this time. We started setting ourselves targets ahead. We would see other competitors and just reel them in on a long rollercoaster section of long steep up and down hills and then a long section (about 1.5k) of this horrible S5. S5 tracks were basically like a beach, very tiring indeed.
The people we caight up were all really spent, having started too fast, so we picked off a good few places even before the beach. When we hit the beach we were tired, and facing a featureless 10k run in a humid and heavy sea mist was daunting. We were thankful it was not clear skies and hot sun though. We walked the first 500m, wondering if he should perhaps march a few more miles then run when we caught sight of a competitor we had passed starting to gain ground. Well, that was it, we ate all our remaining snacks and sucked down some electrolyte and started off at a run. After about a mile, Vance started to pull away, but I was not going to try and match his pace as I recognise I’m not in his class! All the same a mile a two later, tired and walking figured appeared out of the mist. Sometimes they were on their own, sometimes there were a few together. Gradually I caught them up and passed them, my strategy was working. The finish came into site and I shortened a massive gap on the next competitor in a matter of half a minute as he was jogging slow versus my new found strength (helped by the one and only carb gel I took with me for the whole event, just for that day). The last 200M were though deep dry sand and I closed rapidly right behind him. However, a moment of compassion and I held back. I though how demoralising it would be to be taken in a sprint finish after 54k. I slowed up and matched his pace, jogging in deliberately a few seconds behind him. I had finished in 8:18 (86th), but more importantly I had finished the longest day and finished well. 3 more abandons today.
Vance had come in a few mins before me, and Owen a good hour ahead. The others were all well finished ahead of Owen. Matt came in quite a while later, about an hour I think. He had suffered at 20 miles, but even after a carb gel had nothing left he said. His feet were sore because his trail shoes had too little cushioning. Everyone agreed that today was easier than the previous day. It was all the climbing in sandy paths that had ruined us the previous day. Today’s relative flat terrain had boosted everyone on.
The tents were pitched on the beach, so we got sand in everything over the next day. I hobbled over to the toilet block where the catering truck was. It had a hosepipe of lukewarm water for people to use as a shower. I knew my feet were in fairly bad shape before I took my shoes off, so I had taken my first aid kit along. I showered and then surveyed the damage. My right foot was ok, a small blister on the top left side of my second-to-biggest toe. My left foot had a blister in the same place, but also one on the big toe and also the back of the heel too. The problem was that these were the spots where I had the Compeed plasters on form the previous day. They had not prevented blisters as I could see blisters had ‘bubbled-up’ the Compeed. I spent a long time trying to remove the Compeed, but it simply sticks to skin so hard that it pulls the blister skin off. I salvaged what I could of the original skin and re-dressed them in simply lint bandage and some Leukotape. I will never use Compeed ever again.
Sore and Bandaged:
My next problem was one that I had been warned about before coming but didn’t take the time to solve. I had no other footwear. I was on the beach and my feet were messy. I cut off what I thought was a leg from my Tyvek paper suit that I had been wearing for warmth in the morning. Turns out I cut off an arm, so I looked fairly stupid wearing it later on! Anyway, I made a sock for my left foot and got back to the camp on the beach, where I used two of my larger food freezer bags and made some slippers to move around the bivouac. This worked surprisingly well, and I started a fashion as others did it too! I ate up my biggest meal of the day when our half-way bags were returned to use that night. I had an 800 calorie Mountain House rice and chicken meal. It was a feast I can tell you. The next morning started cold and misty. I was cold even with my Tyvek suit on, so I made arm holes in the big bag I had packed and put that on as well. Picture the scene: I am wearing a white paper suit, hood pulled up, one arm missing, with a black bin bag over my body, and freezer bags on my feet. Boy did everyone laugh. Vaughan took a photo, I hope to get it and post it up for your enjoyment. Still, it did the job and I warmed up. The mist lifted rapidly and the temperature rose to 30C with clear skies. We spent the day on the beach, the rest day before the night stage. It was so hot and draining in the black tents that I decided to seek other shelter.
A few of us found some trees behind the dunes and stayed there until about 4pm, when we returned to eat and prepare for the boat crossing to Arcachon across the water. We could see the Dune De Plya a few Ks over the water. It is the largest sand Dune in Europe at 367ft (and growing) and was on our list of places to ‘visit’ that night.
I remember commenting, "it really doesn't look so big from here". How wrong I was. I'm not sure you are really appreciate the size but here it is, the other side of the bay.
Stage 4 the night stage: Arcachon to La Salie
Distance: 33.7km
Elevation: 607M
Cut off time: 6H 44 Minutes
We sat on the shore in the still baking afternoon and evening sun as the admin staff dismantled the camp. I buried my legs in the sand to stop them burning much to the amusement of the French and the official film maker who stopped to film me. We were ferried over the few K’s of water by two (very fast) 12 man speed boats.
We were the last group to go across. Because of the wading in and out of the sea I had to wait to dress my feet at the other side. I dress them up with bandage and tape again, and we all enjoy a quiet half hour before the 8:45 start. We start outside of hotels and restaurants so there are some tourists to see us off and a few more TV cameras this time.
We start with a 1.2km run up the beach before cutting quite steeply inland and into forest for the next 10k.
Ivan tells us that last years night run was lovely and cool, and I set off at a good pace anticipating it to cool quickly as the sun goes down. For the first time in 4 days we are running through the kind of forest that I run in back home i.e. NO SAND, just lovely narrow tracks. Maybe lulled into a false sense of security I drop my guard a little. The Frenchman ahead of me stumbles climbing over a large log blocking the path. He shouts something in French I don’t understand. I put my foot on the log and raise my other foot to cross over. However, the log is slippy; my foot slips down and smashed my shin into the log. I get tremendous shooting pain, but it’s already failing light and too dark to survey any damage. If I had been running any faster I feel certain that I would have shattered my shin bone in that incident. I figure the Frenchman shouted ‘It’s slippy, but I didn’t understand him. I take an ibuprofen to ease the pain and soon after we all light up our head torches as the light fails in the forest. The path is narrow and I am behind around 20-25 people when I see the silhouette of the dune ahead of me. I can hardly believe my eyes as I see a trail of half a dozen silhouetted competitors making their way along the ridgeline. It is massive, so high I cannot believe it. It is just an ominous black shape in the darkness.
I hear cries of ‘manifique’ from the French competitors as everyone is taken aback by the dune. No time to admire as we it is 367ft straight up. We march in single file up what passes for a trail I guess. It is impossible to pass as the sand is so soft. You are forced to tread in the footsteps of the person in front just to gain a little traction. Many times both hands were down as I scrambled up. A few times I got a few welcome seconds of rest as people ahead stopped to breath. The dune drops sharply to our right as we climb, no one wants to fall off the path. It’s a long insurmountable roll down to certain injury. We think we reach the top when there is a control point, but it is not the peak. It is slightly less steep though, before getting steeper once more to the highest point. At this point I stride off, and jog ahead. I read it was more efficient to run in soft sand that walk. Hard as it seems it does appear to be true. As long as you lean forward and toe in and push, you gain more ground. I pass the 25 people ahead of me and am more or less leading this group of people across the dune.
This shot is not one I took, but one the organisers took I believe.
At some points you are on a thin ridgeline where a foot to the left means a long fall and roll. If that would have happened no one would be coming down to fetch you, it’s that steep. I look behind me and it’s an amazing sight in the darkness as the line of head torches stretches out in a line into the distance. I gain quite a bit of ground on everyone as I cross. It’s such hard work though and has taken more out of me than I realise. It’s not got any cooler, but I assumed that would come anytime soon. There are a few peaks in the dune and everyone you hope is the last, but its not. There is always one more. Eventually I see the blue strobe we were told to look out for.
The descent begins, and then gets quite steep as I reach the foot and the one and only aid station. I had not used all of my water thus far (mistake number 1) and so only top up my shoulder bottle and tip the rest over my head. I also have not used any electrolyte at all, and don’t bother to mix any in the shoulder bottle either (mistake number 2). I barely pause at the checkpoint, knowing I can gain time on people who spend ages there. I run straight off, up a long slow incline to a control at the road. There a woman says something in French to me I don’t understand. I only pick up that there is a ‘terrible situation and I must wait across the road’. I join a group of 9 others who are all waiting and manage to ascertain that someone has been moving the route markers in the forest and as a result many people (the faster runners) are lost in the forest. We are held up for 10 minutes and then suddenly instruction is given in French and we are off. I didn’t understand a word of it. I don’t know if the route has changed and we are taking a diversion or what. It would have paid to have used the roadbook at this point to see (mistake 4).
So, I run with this group, some of whom I recognise as being of similar pace, some I don’t. We run along a main road for a half mile and then cut into deep forest once more. About a mile later we run into another group of runners at a crossroads. They must have been lost but found their way back to the route again. We join up and head off. There is no walking the uphill’s with this group I noted, but too scared to get lost in the forest I tag onto the front of the group. It’s a mile or so later when I realise that I have broken away with just two runners, neither of who I had ever seen in the run. They were running at a much faster pace than I was used to (final mistake), but I was managing to keep up. In fact sometimes I felt good, better than they did I think. We spoke in a mixture of English and French, occasionally walking the odd uphill, but mainly running on. I was sucking on my water at a vastly increased rate because of my speed. I ate about 50g of my snacks, leaving only cashew nuts left. They ask me how I am and I say I am fine, but I know I am starting to get tired. We get to a checkpoint and they say only 8k left. This perks me up a little and we run on. However, I start to feel very tired now and I lose some ground. I tell them to run on and I will walk for a while. I have hardly any water left and remember my electrolyte. A tip some in the water and drink it. It’s a horrible high concentrate that’s barely palatable, but I drink it all the same draining the last of my water.
I run on managing to once again catch up with the two Frenchmen just before a control point. They run on, but I must sit down and rest. A male nurse sees me and I say I have run out of water. He fills up my bottle and I try to tip what is left of my electrolyte in the bottle. I get some in, but it goes all over the place. He asks if I have been without water for long, and I say no, which is true. He says are you OK to run on alone, and I indicate yes. I feel really bad at this point, and sitting down its one of those moments when I feel so ruined I want to quit right there. I stood up a little unsteadily, and walk up the steep hill ahead. The terrain is so tough near the end, and the temperature didn’t ever drop. As usual my shirt is stuck to me, I’m drenched in sweat in the humidity. I get fleeting minutes of feeling better and run on, and then crash back to feeling awful. Two people catch me up, and I tag onto them to hopefully drag me onto the finish. We punch in at the last balise and hit a cycle track. I’m feeling terrible yet still I am looking behind me to check there is no one else catching up. I keep asking them in French how far it is to the end, they jokingly tell me 25k’s. I say “Je me coucherais ici”. I will be sleeping here (I think). They laughed so it must have sounded right. I drag myself on along the cycle path and we round a corner to see the finish. I jog in 2 steps behind them. I finished in 4:53 (76th place, my highest placing all week).
I collect my 3 litres of water and try and find my tent in the darkness. It takes me a long time to find my tent. It is 2am and I wander randomly around the sea of black tents looking for familiar faces. I find ours eventually. Everyone who is back is tired and getting into bed. I don’t feel well. I know how important it is to eat now though and get out my cooking pot and fill it with water. I try and light the supplied gas stove but the lighter is broken. I wander into other camps for a lighter, but they are all tied to the stoves. It should have been easy to get one, but for some reason I could not figure out how to do it. I didn’t ask anyone. I was very confused, wandering around back and forward. Eventually I gave up, but mixed up a recovery drink and drank it. I got in my sleeping bag but I was shaking. I got up and put in my Tyvek suit and then got back in. I felt hot, then I felt cold, but mostly I felt confused. Matt arrived back and I sat there dazed. I knew something was wrong with me and I told him I was going to medical. I wandered over to medical where I tried to explain I felt confused, and hot and cold. There was a language barrier, but they sat me down, they lay me down. They saw me trembling and sent for my sleeping bag, still I was shaking. They asked if I had spent the day in the sun on the beach, I said yes and then no I was under the trees. The doctor tested my blood pressure and heart rate and then finally pricked my finger for a blood sugar test. You are Hyperglycaemic she said.
Gerard the organiser then came in and asked what I had eaten. I said just one electrolyte and 50g of snacks. He said that’s not enough (I knew that I guess). I explained to the staff I had tried to eat, but the cooker was broken. It was hastily replaced. The doctor made me drink a can of Coke. I wrapped myself up tight in my sleeping bag and the shaking slowly started to stop, and I started to calm down. I started to feel ok again, and wanted to sleep. I liked the idea of the security of sleeping in the medical tent and closed my eyes. They woke me up and said ‘you go back to your tent and eat’. I said ‘no, just sleep’. They would have none of it, and frog-marched me back to my camp. I tried to go to bed, but they forced me to cook my pasta meal. I got in my tent and ate it very slowly; one piece of pasta at a time was all I could stomach. It was so hard to do but I knew I to, or I would be out of the race the next day. By now it was gone 3am. I still left a little pasta, but I had eaten most. We had to be up at 6:30 for a bus transfer around a military zone to the next checkpoint. I lay down, turned off my head torch and slept badly for a couple of hours. I was so tired I felt there was no way I could even make the start line for day 5. If I did I would have to walk all day, no heroics. I could not throw this away after getting this far.
Stage 5: Mimizan to St Girons
Distance: 35.3km
Elevation: 304M
Cut off time: 7H 04 Minutes
I slept badly; I’m not even sure I slept at all. I tried to get up at 6am in the end, and opened up the tent. The others started to get up and get ready. I didn’t even have the motivation to get out of my sleeping back. I couldn’t face my breakfast of oats that morning; I just could not stomach them at all. Anne suggested I eat something else from my bag. I pulled out my saviour, my desert for later that evening; Strawberry pop tarts. They were a bit broken up, but that helped to be honest as it involved less effort to eat them. I started to enjoy them as I moved into the second one, and finished every last bit. I boiled some water and made a large pot of coffee and drank that too. I started to feel a bit better. I was still concerned the breakfast was not big enough. It was suggested I make my oats and take them with me to eat before the start. I boiled them up and closed the lid, placing them in my rucksack.
We got ready and boarded some coaches to take us to the next start line. It was impossible to start from our current camp because of a huge military zone directly south. We spent almost an hour on the coach. The weather was already very hot and the coach had no air con. It was not a pleasant journey. One saving grace was that in the last couple of miles as we neared the coast and start line, a thick sea mist clouded out the strong sun. I knew this would burn off quickly, but it was a psychological boost. I got off the coach, sorted out my feet and then ate all my oats. They were a little cold by now, but I manage them OK. I started to feel good, and I didn’t feel tired anymore.
The first few miles were all on good forest or cycle track. I set off at a walk as I planned, but the terrain was so good and the mist still present that I made another tactical decision to run along all of this good terrain, at least until the sun broke through.
So, the walking plan went out of the window and I started running. I caught up and passed all the usual people I was used to passing in the early stages by now. After 4 miles the sun broke through. About that time the terrain took a turn for the worse and we were back to the usual sandy paths with some steep climbs. I marched the tough S3 S4 terrain, noting that even those running it barely gained any time on me. Annoyingly I passed people who I had overtaken earlier again – I hate short cutters.
It was very hot, the hottest day so far, 30C+. I would sometimes use a little water to pour over the buff on my head to cool down. I read this helps improve performance as it drop your core temperature. I did however manage to lose my sunglasses at the first aid station whilst doing this. I only realised a mile later. I didn’t want to lose the time going back. I did mention it at the next control, but I never got them back. Oh well, I’ve had about 6 years use out of them, good value for money. There were a lot of S4 and S3 tracks today, and lots of sharp hills. There were also lots of long stretches with no cover from the sunlight. I tried to hurry past these sections when possible. At 12 miles in my left ankle started to really hurt. I thin horizontal line of pain between the ankle bones that hurt with every compression. This preyed on my mind until the pain anesthetised itself about 4 miles later. My left quad was also very tight. I applied pressure to it in one spot when I slowed to a walk. This seemed to work and the pain eased. I entered the last 10k I pushed my pace. I had taken quite a few people, but I knew I had enough left to take more and gain a better placing. These last few miles were under forest and were reasonable ground, though still hilly in places. There were a lot of tired and walking people, who had nothing left to challenge with as I passed them. I passed quite a few and was even running the hills at this point. I felt really good; so good in fact that when the finish came into site I started to sprint. I finished to the clapping of the already finished competitors who always gave good support to those finishing after them. I finished in 5H 12 (85th).
Everyone at camp was surprised to see me in so early. They had been planning on coming down to the finish to welcome me in. Ivan went down to the finish to welcome Matt as I went for a welcome hot shower. We were in the best camp site all week, sharing with actual holiday-makers. I bet they were surprised. I spent a long time in the shower. I didn’t have a towel, so when the water stopped I got cold. I kept pressing the button for another blast. I dragged myself away and dressed up my feet which were pretty grim. The same blisters plus a couple more on my heels too. After the evening briefing we ate. I was very disappointed not to have any desert, because I had eaten it for breakfast. However, I knew that I would not even be at the finish line if it were not for that. We studied the roadbook. A last minute change meant that rather than the last 5 miles on the beach, we would have the last 8.5 on the beach, and the weather was forecast to be the hottest yet. The last day was to be no formality, no easy sprint finish, like it is in the MDS. This was going to be a real last endurance challenge.
Stage 6: St Girons to Vieux-Bocau
Distance: 30.2km
Elevation: 347M
Cut off time: 5H 30 Minutes
I slept well, the best I had slept all week in fact. It was almost as if my body was finally accepting camp life, which I had not done for over 10 years. My joy was short lived when I got up to have the same ankle pain from the previous day. Every foot compression hurt. I used up the last of the lint bandage I had and wrapped up my ankle. It wasn’t enough, so I also taped it round and round with some Leukotape. It was a hasty job but it immediately felt better supported and I could run on it. I gave Matt a 600mg ibuprofen to help his sore feet, which worked well by all accounts. I also gave him one of my two electrolytes for the day. I didn’t think I’d need two
We collected our water and gathered on the start for the last time.
The route started with a 0.8km run down onto the beach, then 1.5k run along the beach itself before a steep S5 hill back over the dunes and into the usual sandy forest tracks. The first 15k was challenging; lots of sandy hills including some nasty S5s. It was so hot that I ran out of water 3k’s before the first checkpoint. I had drunk to demand, and I could only theorise that I was not properly hydrated before the run started. I only had the one electrolyte as well, which I had to save for the one and only aid station. I wished I hadn’t given it away, as I felt rough. I gobbled up all of my trail snacks, especially the M&Ms which always went down the best. This perked me up and little and I made it to the checkpoint. I mixed up 800ml of electrolyte and fitted my smart tube into the rest of the water. Then the route went into no cover, into an S5 and up a tough hill over the dunes and onto the beach for the last 8.5 miles. It was very hot. Someone said that the admin car temperature was reading 30C at 8am. It was now midday, the worst time to get to the beach.
Immediately I made my way as close to the water as possible and the firmer sand. However, the sand wasn’t any firmer, it was still quite soft, and had a terrible camber than upset my knees. I had worn a knee brace for days 1-4, but the shin-smash on the night stage had made it too painful to wear so I had been running without it for day 5 and 6. Ahead I saw other weave left and right up across the beach in search of better sand. I did the same, but there was none to be had. Every footstep was inefficient as your foot slipped. It was very frustrating. I was angry in fact. I wanted to enjoy the last day, but this was torture. I slowed to a walk for about a mile to recover, and a French girl passed me. I let her go as I needed time to gather myself together. It was hot I and I was drinking my electrolyte and water at an alarming rate. I also kept taking off my buff, and dipping it in the sea before putting it back on in an effort to cool down. I was actually concerned I might fall at the final hurdle and not make it.
I waited for the next mile to click over on my GPS and started a slow stead jog, a little slower than 5mph. I did this for ¾ of a mile and then walked the next ¼ to recover. Then we came to a river flowing into the sea. It was about 30-40M wide and there was a La Trans Aq official at each side and a thin rope across the water. Looks like we were getting our feet wet. Some people took off their shoes, but I though there was no point as I would only spend 10 mins the other side trying to get sand off my feet before putting my shoes on. I jumped in; it was up to my thighs. It was like wading through treacle with my shoes and gaiters on. Someone shoe-less walked passed me effortlessly. He must have enjoyed the feeling because he ran the whole rest of the way in the ankle deep shallows. I climbed out and passed the people busily putting their shoes back on. I overtook a good 10 to 15 people on the beach, and was only overtaken by about 3 I think.
The river was still 4.5 miles from the finish. I was now jogging with feet that weighed a 1lb each. They felt like lead. The camber was still bad on the beach, but the sand firmness did improve. Bemused holiday makers looked at us from their beach towels as we passed by. All with backpacks, bathed in sweat and looking awful. A few clapped which was nice. I was running low on water when I was a quad bike ahead. It said 5k to the finish. I thought it was less than that. I had estimated in was only 1 mile. The quad bikers were re-filling water bottles. They watered down my electrolyte 800ml bottle. This was a big boost. I had enough water to make it to the finish now. Ahead in the distance I could see the French girl who had overtaken me miles previously. I set off at my steady jog and just maintained it. She would run, at a faster pace to mine, but tire after a couple of hundred metres and slow to a walk. Slowly I gained ground on her, until I was next behind her. Then I saw the finish, at the top of the beach up through all the soft sand and quite a steep climb for people as tired as we were. The girl was shattered as she walked up the beach. I remembered earlier in the week, and wanted her to have a good memory of the finish, not one of being overtaken with 200m left. I said to her ‘We’ll finish together, she said “oui, ensemble”. She started to jog, but slowed up again, I roused her into a job again and we crossed the line together. “Bravo” I told her. 4 hours and 11 minutes. Total time 33.16.16. 84th overall. The placing exceeding my expectations, and the total time just above my highest completion estimation.
We were congratulated my Gerard and Caroline. I couldn’t quite take it all in, I was so tired. I didn’t sink in that I had done it. I wandered forward and had a photo of in front of the finish then went into the marquee on the beach to a waiting buffet. After a week of not shaving, wearing my buff, and now very dirty and sweaty ecomesh shirt I look like a pirate.
Ecomesh before, and and Ecomesh after 230km!
I joined everyone at the table and we sat down and ate. Vance looked shattered, head in his hands. He had run fast and was well spent. He looked a little like me on the night stage, so I went and begged a can of orange for him which sorted him out.
We were in a resort, so I went across to the road and brought back everyone an ice cream which went down very well indeed. We walked about 1k to the shower block, and got cleaned up and changed into our normal clothes which had been returned to us. We sat at a bar for a while before going back for the prize giving ceremony. Just 15 minutes into it, a storm blew up. Sand blasted around viciously and I got a taste of the sand storms I can expect in Morocco. The medal giving ceremony took on a new urgency and was rushed through. The two winners, male and female, were both from Team Raidlight and appear in all of their brochures; incredibly talented runners who we met at the airport the next day. Anne had got 2nd place for the females! Bear in mins she is a veteran runner, this was an amazing achievement and she looked very proud as she collected her cup. Vaughan finished high up the table, as did Ivan, Vance and Owen too. We were all given our medals hastily, a couple of bottles of wine and a resin pot. The organisers had collected 130 ancient resin pots from trees in the forest, cleaned them up and presented them to each of us. It was nice touch, and just added to the friendliness and uniqueness of the event.
The electrical storm turned nastier and the venue was switched to a nearby sport hall. It was arranged very quickly, and we were all impressed by this. This was a blessing in disguise as we would have been sleeping in the marquee on the beach if the storm had not come. The evening’s celebration continued to midnight with good food and wine, and a 20-piece um-pa band! I’m sure there were many sore heads the following morning as we all began our journeys home.
I will make a separate post about what I have learned. What I though of the equipment I used, what I was other using and the tips I picked up along the way. The event was far more difficult than I imagined. I had no idea that such a lot of the course was sand of varying depth. I had hoped this would be a nice gentle introduction to multi-day racing, but it was a trail by fire. 8 people abandoned in total for various reasons. The fact that is so low is testament to the will of the participants to keep going. This is the most important lesson I learned. You can keep going even when you think you are finished. Your body is stronger than you give it credit for. I didn’t appreciate it when people said these types of events were more about mental toughness. This is so true. Everyone should try and experience mental hardship in their training and overcome it, to help them endure the test of the Marathon Des Sables. Every time you are having a tough training run, and want to go home early. Don’t do it, carry on, I fact add more miles on. You’ll get back home and be pleased that you did, building up your mental strength at the same time.
One final and very interesting piece of information; I spent the week with the two MDS vets in my camp. Also, there were many MDS vets in the event. There were MDS buffs and T-Shirts everywhere in fact. Do you know what the general consensus of opinion was? The terrain in La Trans Aq was far tougher than that of the MDS. I can look to the 2008 MDS with increased confidence now. Anyone doing 2009 and 2010 MDS, you might want to think about La Trans Aq for a preparation event the year before. It’s difficult, but character building, friendly and relaxed.
The dates for the next MDS have just been announced. It starts on March 30th 2008; 284 days to go, and counting.
The finishers from our camp celebrating at the finish. Left to right:
Vance, Ivan, Owen, Matt, Vaughan, Anne, and Me!
I found someone elses photo's online from a link on the La Trans Aq site. You can check out the equipment they are using if you are interested, and see more of the sand tracks!
http://picasaweb.google.com/marie.jaze/TransAq2007
Link to local news program from channel FR3(in French). A few bits of footage later on in the report. You see a little of the river crossing on the beach on the last day too
http://video.google.com/googleplayer...50760443&hl=fr
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