Marathon Des Sables Training

What happened next?

2008-11-21T16:33:00.011Z

6 months later in September 2008, I started a new blog and found a few more deserts....
www.desertracer.co.uk

In 2011 I created a global ultramarathon calendar and ultra events listing website, with race information, stats, maps, photos and reviews. Over 600 events are featured as of January 2012.
http://www.beyondmarathon.com

Here is a direct link to it's global ultra events calendar

Ultramarathon Races

Journey's End

2008-04-10T17:10:00.014Z

It is time to bid you farewell.

The full story of my MDS adventure is in the post below this one.

Well, I have done what I set out to do and completed the MDS. I documented my two year journey on this blog, and I’ll let it stand now as record of my achievement. The donations page is now closed. I raised £4500 including gift aid in total. So thank you and well done to everyone who has donated.

There are so many people to thank that I hope I don’t forget anyone. Please kick me if I do and I’ll add you to the list.

Roll of honour

Mum and Dad for their support for the past two years. Especially for looking after my son for much of every weekend as I trained. Thanks for all the words of wisdom, help with the sponsorship, the cards, and for decking out my house with celebration balloons and banners! Thank you for ever!
My son, too small to understand just yet, but I owe you a lot of time to make up for that you have lost to the MDS.
My sons mother for her support when I started out on my quest, and for her flexibility with him as the MDS drew nearer.
The eldest of my sisters for her support, especially in Tenerife.
My youngets sister for her support, now facing a challenge of her own with her new baby!
My uncle, Dr K P Burns, without whose help I would just not have completed much of my training, let alone the MDS. His Chiropractic and sports injury knowledge has saved me so many times I have lost count. He has given up more of his time than I could have dared to ask. I owe him a huge debt of gratitude.
Also to his staff – Jodie, Katie and Andy for their sports massage. Thanks for putting me back together when I was broken.
Thanks to all my other relatives, work colleagues, all sponsors, and neighbours for their encouragement, support and sponsorship
Clive Hevey – personal trainer extraordinaire and member of the Bob Graham Round club (look it up if you don’t know). His advice and training over the last 4 years has taken me from literally zero to where I am now.
Mike Perry at 1st Contact Physiotherapy Stoke on Trent – for sports massage and physio over the last two years. He's an amazing physio!

All of my friends (those who still remember me anyway!). Especially Dan and Justin & Sally for their help and support when preparing, and also for the daily emails in the desert!
Everyone at Blackfriars School – both staff and pupils who have supported and helped with the fundraising.
The staff and students from Manchester Metropolitan University who have helped with my physical and mental approach to the MDS over the last couple of months.
Friends from the TRO forum for their sponsorship, and support on the forum and in the desert
Friends from the www.themds.co.uk forum for their words of wisdom, sponsorship, support on the forum and many emails in the desert – Too many of you to mention by name!
You, all my readers over the last two years, and judging by the web stats there are many of you. Thanks to those of you who commented and thanks to those of you who sent me emails in the desert. Thanks if you have just read, and I hope the blog has kept you entertained and maybe even given you a few ideas if you are a future MDS competitor.

This medal is for all of you.

May 09:
I've created a information source for ultra athletes accross the globe. A little bit of a thank you to the sport in general. I hope some of you find it useful
http://www.beyondmarathon.com

Marathon des Sables 2008 - My Story

2008-04-09T09:05:00.143Z

Introduction

Four years ago I literally could not run a mile. I had to stop at 3/4 of a mile gasping for breath on a treadmill, with a personal trainer called Clive probably thinking he had his work cut out here. I had decided to start running, get fit and get some personal training after a health check had revealed me mostly ok but dreadfully unfit for a 30 year old man. So, I started to do the odd short run over the next couple of years and eventually even entered an off-road 10k event. I found those 6 miles so hard I could not understand how anyone could run a 26 mile marathon. I certainly knew I couldn't. A few months later in January 2006 I was watching a TV show on the Marathon des Sables. I was in awe of spectacle and could not understand how anyone could survive such as extreme event. "I'd love to do that some day", I announced. "Why don't you then?" came back the reply from my girlfriend at that time. "OK" I announced boastfully, "I will then". I went upstairs, went onto the internet and downloaded the application form. I filled it in and made out a cheque for £500, the non-refundable deposit sum. The next day I walked to the post box, raised the envelope and let it hover in the slot for a couple of minutes as the enormity of what I had said I would do finally began to sink in. Eventually I pushed the envelope inside. A week or so later I got back a letter. My application was accepted into the 23rd edition of the Marathon des Sables in 2008.

I had two years and 3 months to train from really nothing, to be fit enough to stand at the start line with 800 others from across the world. Now I have no natural or genetic running ability. I'm still not a fast runner at all. I'd have to train the only way I knew how, which was to make a very detailed plan. What I lack in natural ability I make up for in preparation, attention to detail and the ability to stick to a plan to the letter. I'd never miss a training session because "I didn't feel like it today". This was the only way I knew that I could try and get in shape to even show my face in Morocco. Now the information I have researched in my blog, the training I have done, and the equipment I have used has worked for me but it may not be right for you. I have no ultra credentials, I am just an everyday Bob who had an aspiration to acheive something extraordinary just once in his life. If you find something in my pages that helps you then great, but know that I'm just a newbie and I'm learning every day. In other words 'don't blame me!'. I started the search for information on the race, sucking up every detail from every website I found. I read past competitors stories online and even found a few blogs, which I found useful. I closely followed one in particular, Alan Silcock as he trained for his first MDS in 2006. I subsequently got to know Alan and we both took part in this years MDS. Anyway, I decided that I would start my own blog to keep up my motivation for the event which seemed so far away, and also to record my journey as record of how far I would go in two years.

On January 25th 2006 I created my first blog post, and have updated it at least once a week ever since. In 2006 I set a goal of running my first (and still my only) marathon. I built up to 10k again, and then I ran my first and only half marathon in August 2006 in Newark. I ran it in a modest 1:52, which have me some hope I could crack 4 hours in the New York Marathon in November 2006. Just 7 weeks before the marathon, disaster struck and I got Illiotibula Band Syndrome in my right leg during my first ever 15 mile training run. For the next 7 weeks up to the event I could only cover a distance of 3 miles before the pain was too bad to continue. So with just one 15 mile run 'in the bank' I knew I was in trouble. By chance I spoke to my Uncle, a chiropractor from Sheffield. He told me that he treated this kind of injury, and not just back pain as I had assumed. He have me intensive treatment for a week and the problem went away. Too late for any long training runs, but patched up enough to make the start line. I ran and really enjoyed the New York Marathon but at 18 miles, deep into new mileage territory I hit the wall. I felt sick and terrible but I carried on at a much reduced pace and made it over the finish in 4:10. I was happy to finish, but just a little sad I had missed out on my 4 hour goal.

After New York I entered more Long Distance Walkers Association (LDWA) events, and even started to run parts of these events, which are typically around 20-25 mile with a few thousand feet of climbing involved. In January 2007 I found my interest in the MDS waning. I was feeling fitter after 12 months of training and knew that my MDS was still well over a year away. I entered a multi day ultra in France called La Trans Aq in June 2007. It sounded perfect training. It was the same format as the MDS, but a little less distance, not as hot, plenty of sand, but a little less weight to carry in the backpack. I trained hard, and completed my first self-designed ultra distance of 35 miles five weeks before La Trans Aq. I flew to France meeting two other UK competitors at the airport, Anne and Vaughan Wade. They are both superb ultra athletes, lots of experience and they were 2006 MDS successful veterans. I learned a lot of from as the week of La Trans Aq progressed. Despite finding the event very hard, I thoroughly enjoyed it and surprised myself my finishing 86th out of about 125 starters. I had expected to come last!

Brimming with confidence when I got back I then vowed to enter two LDWA events per month until the MDS itself. I would enter all of them as a runner, despite always carrying an increasingly weighed backpack to simulate MDS conditions. I entered and completed a very tough and 'character building' 29 mile event called the Rhayader Mountain trail in August 2007, then three weeks later the 40 mile Coventry Way Challenge. I continued with LDWA events and successfully completed my major goal for 2007; the 50 mile 'Round Rotherham'. I had trained in Tenerife just before La Trans Aq, and returned in December 2007 for another session. It is worth looking over those blog posts for Tenerife, and the close call I had there; That experience was recalled and helped me during this years MDS. I did a few other LDWA events in early 2008, but some injuries prevented me doing as many as I would have wanted. I also had to cancel my entry into the 54 mile Thames Meander, which would have been my final confidence booster for the MDS. Still I had put a lot of miles in and just rested my injuries ready for the MDS. The week before the event I felt fine, no sign of any injury other than that right ITB niggle which didn't feel too bad anyway.

I packed for the MDS; the detailed equipment/food list you can find in a previous blog post and set off for Gatwick on 26th March 2008.

Pre Race

I stayed in a hotel at Gatwick and met a few other competitors that evening, including a top guy known as 'Cookie' who will feature in an MDS documentary, to be shown on ITV 4 in May 2008. This will be worth watching because he really had a bad time of it, but yet made it through anyway, superb. The TV crew got some great footage of him in pieces as he crossed the finish one stage, which will let some of you know how hard this event is mentally as well as physically. The following day all 250 UK competitors flew out to Ouarzazate and stayed at Le Berbere Palace hotel. I shared a room with a chap called Martin, who had failed the MDS on day 4 in 2006. It turned out there were a lot of 2006 abandons back in 2008 to correct their mistakes. Martin knew a couple of other 2006 abandoners; Andy and Ming. The four of us were then joined by Kevin, Hugo and Toby, and later by Michael. Tent 99 was assembled. We ate at the excellent hotel buffet, loading up on calories before getting an early night.

Everyone left Ouarzazate the next day for what ended up being a 7 hour journey, punctuated by water, lunch and pee-stops, and the coach I was on breaking down and holding up the journey for everyone for 40 minutes. The roadbooks were handed out as we departed, and I quickly skipped to stage 4 to see how far it was; 75.5k; 5k shorter than expected. This meant that the earlier stages were longer. I didn't study the roadbook in great detail on the journey down though. The journey was not enjoyable; winding roads over the mountains, and very hot. It was cooler outside the coach than inside. Eventually the coach turned left, off the tarmac road and started to head across the dirt into the desert. We had expected to be put on the back of open-back army trucks for the trip to the bivouac, but not so this year. The black tents of the competitors and white tents of the admin that I had seen a thousand times in photos came into view. I was here. After 2 years of waiting I had arrived in the desert. It all felt strangely familiar because I had viewed so much material on the internet.

We'd get close up and personal with those pretty red hills in the background soon enough. We dragged our suitcases through the shallow sand, into the bivouac and staked our claim for a tent, which happened to be 99. I put my kit on the outside edge of the tent, because I was hydrating like a mad man and knew I would be up in the night for the loo. That's my kit, nearest on the right.

We got to know each other a little better during the evening, and stood in the first of many queues for the organiser supplied dinner. The food was better than expected for the meals though the portion sizes not too generous. If you are a big-eater you might want to bring a little extra food for those couple of days before the race starts. It was dark by 7pm and we all got what sleep we could with a howling wind blowing. The next day was admin day and we all had time-slots to go and get our kit checked. We packed our rucksacks, adding any last minute items in. I decided to add a Helly Hansen thermal top and an extra pair of socks to my equipment, and a single emergency carb-gel. Alan Silcock, veteran from 2006 and 2007 came over to say hi. He was staying in tent 79 and it was good to remake acquaintance. He's a useful man to know with plenty of advice to get you through the MDS.

Here is Tent 99, left to right: Hugo, Me, Andy, Michael, Kevin, Toby, Ming, and Martin crouching down.

After packing, tent 99 decided to go and reccie the Merzouga Dunes which were those pretty red hills in the photo above. We walked the 1.5k to the edge and stepped onto them for our first taste of the finest powdered sand £2650 can buy.

I had a close cut 'racing haircut' done the day before I set off, though this makes it look like I had a close cut Mohican!

I wandered and even ran up and down a few dunes and stared off into the distance getting to know my enemy. 8 miles through the dunes seemed like a rude wakeup call for stage 1. We all headed back to the tent and had a lie down to recover from the reccie!

I was approached by lots of people during the event who recognised me from my photo's on this blog, and we all very complimentary about it. I was surprised by quite how many of you there were. It's nice to know it's not just me and my mum who has been reading this blog for two years! Special hello to the guys from Tent 97, our neighbours, who I got to know a little and frequently bumped into a checkpoints during the week.

A sandstorm blew up during the afternoon, reducing the visibility from miles to a couple of hundred yards. Goggles on and buffs pulled up I realised I didn't like them, even though this was probably fairly low on the scale.

My 3pm timeslot arrived and I dragged my suitcase and rucksack over to the admin tents. I was nervous about my ECG, despite knowing that many peoples showed the same abnormalities. At desk one we got our race numbers and handed in our suitcases, which were packed up on a lorry and sent back to the hotel in Ouarzazate. Next I was given a necklace with a medical card, water (pointing) card, flare, and electronic tag. The tag was new for 2008, and actually just being tested this year. The tag was scanned as we passed into checkpoints and may well be the new timekeeping system in 2009. The manual recording was the system used primarily this year though.
Next I handed in a organiser-supplied sheet of paper to the kit-check desk. I had carefully listed all my equipment, my food and calorie content and the weight of my pack. I had signed the disclaimed to say I had packed all of this kit as well as the required items. They took it off me, wrote a few things down and said that was it. No detailed kit inspection at all. I don't know anyone who had their kit inspected in fact. At the end of the day if you want to cheat yourself out of kit and calories that it your problem I guess? Finally I approached the doctors table, somewhat apprehensively. I handed over my medical certificate and ECG to one doctor, whilst another asked if I had done a marathon before. Not wanting to attract attention I said "yes lots, and also a multi day race in France called La Trans Aq". She seemed happy enough with the response, and I watched nervously as the other doctor traced her pen over the heart-trace of my ECG. She looked up and said "OK" and sent me on my way. That was it, now it was over to me. I headed back to tent 99 and realised when there I had left my flare on the table in admin! oops. A quick unplanned run later, and I had retrieved it. We were told to pack the flare in an easily accessible place in our rucksack. I put it at the bottom, out of temptations way. Call me stupid, but it seemed wise to me (I was right as it transpired).

During late afternoon we all assembled outside out tents for Patrick Bauers welcome and demonstration of how to set off the flare. Second time lucky after they forgot to take the lid off the first one when they fired it. Doh!

Afterwards we went back to out tents and settled in for the night. The wind was high and got stronger as dawn approached. I slept badly, grabbing just a couple of hours at best, which would be a pattern I would repeat for most of the week.

I am going to post the organisers press release for each day, along with the temperatures and map, before my own story each day from here onwards.

30/03/2008 - Stage 1 : Erg Chebbi/Erg Znaigui

Weather conditions at 8.00am: 20,8 °C / 31% hygrometry (humidity)
Weather conditions at 12.00am: 36,8 °C /18% hygrometry

801 competitors, amongst which 94 women, set off this morning for an unusually long and difficult opening stage. With hardly more than a kilometre to warm up, our enthusiastic bunch of runners were confronted with the Merzouga dunes. Those 13 kilometres allowed a clear lead to emerge. Unsurprisingly, at CP1, the favourites Ahansal, Aqra and Ait Amar were on each other’s heels. Starting on the long rocky plateau that leads to the second set of dunes, Mohamad Ahansal moved to top speed and left everyone on the spot. In black and yellow settings (rocks and sand), the race got slightly crazy, exploding with young Ahansal’s incredible pace. He reached the finish line way ahead of anybody else, more than fifteen minutes before his direct competitors, slightly shock shelled from Ahansal’s performance: “I’ve been alone from kilometre 7; of course I miss my brother, we had the same pace, but I’m happy with my day”.
Jorge Aubeso (Spain) also did a fine race. He himself was pleasantly surprised: “I don’t think I’m 1st place material, but my knee’s getting better by the day and I can be a patient man…”
A less pleasant surprise for Jordan Salameh El Aqra’ who found the course harder than expected and also had to deal with tummy trouble.
Today the Marathon des Sables was particularly worthy of its name: sand was on the menu, starter, main and pudding. And it’s only the beginning…
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The tent was taken down from above our heads shortly after 6am, but most of us were already awake. There was a high wind and it was a truly demoralising start to the MDS. Trying to prepare yourself as a gale blows all around you wasn't nice. In fact I didn't get to prepare my feet the way I wanted to that morning, forgoing the pre-taping for fear of taping sand into my feet.

I ate my standard breakfast of porrage oats, dried milk and honey-coated banana chips mixed up with about 1 pint of water and boiled up in my MSR kettle. Breakfast went down well and I washed it down with 50g of PSP22 tipped into a half-full mineral water bottle. We all collected our start line water ration which was rather unusually 3 litres instead of 1.5. The larger ration usually indicates that there is a tough section ahead. We had all roughly calculated that we would spend 3 hours in the dunes and so it was clear that the 3 litres would be needed anyway. Below is a shot of the 'pointing card' wore around the neck and clipped at every CP when you get your water ration. Also attached to this was the medical card, but this was taken away during stage 7. The medical card was clipped if you received attention from Doc Trotters. If you look closely you can see on the date 30(th) that 3L is indicated for the first ration.

After getting my water ration I got fully dressed and lay down using my backpack as a wind shield. The sand storm had rattled me and I was feeling a little demoralised. It was not a nice way to start the MDS. I took out a couple of cards and photos that I carried with me, from my family, to calm my nerves. This seemed to work some magic and the wind dropped almost immediately. At 8:30 we assembled on the start line and music played over the loudspeakers. Below you can see my chosen dress for the week. A Railriders Ecomesh shirt, Under Armour vented shorts with Raidlight stretch shorts over the top. Raidlight 30l backpack and frontpack. Outdoor Research cap and Wiley X goggles/sunglasses with light adjusting lenses. 800ml Raidlight bottle in the frontpack, along with a 1.5L water bottle, and I carried another 800ml in hand in that bottle on day 1.

The same tunes were played all week, but the clear winner was AC/DC's "You Shook Me All Night Long". There was a real buzz of excitement on the line as Patrick introduced the race, and his nice assistant Sarah translated into English. Tent 99 shook hands and wished each other good luck, as the countdown began. Trios, Deux, Un and we were off to the loud cheers of everyone. The Eurosport helicopter buzzed overhead and circled us as we crossed the start line and were off. I set my first foot on my rollercoaster ride of the 2008 edition & 23rd Marathon des Sables.
Video of the start
I set off at a light jog amongst the 800 others, waving to the Eurosport copter as it made frequent passes. The first 1.5k was easy flat terrain but bought me closer to the nightmare start-day obstacle of the Merzouga Dunes; up to 150M high in places. I stopped to pose for a photo which really gives you a flavour of the task we had ahead. You can just about make out the field of runners snaking into the dunes.

We had 12.5k of the dunes ahead. Doesn't sound like much does it?

I was with Hugo and Toby as we set out across the dunes, our pace rapidly slowing to around 3mph (less at times), which is what we had estimated it would be. The wind had dropped but was still blustery and depending on the path you selected across the dunes you could be sand-blasted as you crested a particularly high dune. There was of course no path to follow, you just made you own. Most competitors just followed one main 'snake', but sometimes two snakes would appear as some would judge one path easier than another. It was of course hot, but the wind took the edge off. It was by fortune the coolest day of the week; the only day under 40C at 36.7C. It may have peaked higher in the dunes themselves but the official temperature was given as above. I clocked the humidity as being around 18% - 21% which was higher than I had expected. Certainly sweat clung to my skin under my shirt, and I was conscious of maintaining hydration. I sipped my water ration frequently, every 2 or 3 minutes. The dunes rose and fell before me. Sometimes I could see a high one ahead and would hope to view the end from it, but my hopes were dashed when I crested and just saw miles more in every direction.

You can't get a rhythm walking in dunes. The sand density changes from very soft to sometimes firmer. Sometimes it seems firm but gives way half way through a footstep. You feet slide backwards and sideward’s and it is very tiring. Sometimes it is better to step in other people’s footsteps; sometimes it is better to make your own. You learn which as you go, I can't tell you how! Some of the dunes are shockingly steep on the 'downside' once you have crested them. In fact some dunes are actually vertical drops; sheer walls of sand. You will have to see it to believe it.

I had split from Hugo and Toby at some point in the dunes as we had each stopped for the 'loo', or to adjust equipment etc.

After what seemed like an eternity I saw the end of the dunes, and after perhaps another half hour I emerged from them and to checkpoint 1. All the walking seemed to be irritating my right IT band. This caused me frequent discomfort during the week, but was never a show-stopper thankfully.

I failed to notice that you had to filter into a particular lane depending on your race number and was ushered away to the furthest right lane to have my tag scanned, time recorded, and fresh 1.5l of water supplied. It had taken me 2hrs50 mins to reach CP1 at 14k, more or less what I had expected, average speed just 2.7mph by then. My feet and toes felt ok but I could feel my socks were wet with sweat. There are small tents setup at each CP for competitors to use for shade. Here they refill water bottles, eat food, or just generally crash out for a while and recover. There is also a Doc Trotter tent. I got into the shade, took off my pack and swapped my socks for a dry pair, after airing my feet for a couple of minutes. I hung the wet pair of socks on the outside of my pack to dry as the idea to swap between two pairs a day came to me. By the time I had done this and mixed up some electrolyte 10 minutes had passed. I got back on my feet and trotted out of the CP.
The terrain went immediately from one extreme to the other; Now a totally flat stony plain stretching to the horizon. I was finally able to achieve my target pace of 5mph.

This pleasant terrain continued until for the next 10k. You can see this stony flat terrain below with a photo looking forward, and back (where you can see the end of the Merzouga Dunes).

It was plain sailing across the flat to CP2, where I swapped my socks for the now dry originals, refuelled with another electrolyte and set off again. I would be eating on the move; a small mouthful of food every ten minutes or so to stay topped up on fuel. Thee k's later I crossed some sandier terrain again, which for all purposes may have well as been full on dunes. I was getting a little tired by now. The early dune onslaught and then quickened pace across the flats to recover time had taken it's toll, but I was still feeling ok. That was until the sting in the tail on day one came into sight, another 2.5k of substantial dunes. They can be seen in the distance, ahead of a couple of locals.

The dunes really wore me out and once again with every crest my hopes for it being the last dune were cruelly dashed by tens more. Finally I crested a dune and spied the finish line. Energy returned to my legs and I managed a jog up a down the last few dunes and across the line. I finished in 05H51'58' average speed of 5,39kph.
A word about the average speed at this point; sometimes this differs from what I posted in my nightly updates. This was because the stage lengths were not always exactly as advertised in the roadbook, versus my GPS measurement. Some were slightly short by a few hundred metres, and some were longer (such as day 5 and day 6).

I was then ushered through to collect my 4.5l water ration to last to the following day. There is nothing crueler than handing a tired athlete an additional 4.5 kilos in weight to struggle with back to his tent. I stripped off my shoes and socks, and checked my feet. They were fine. I aired them whilst I had a Rego recovery drink, and then ate my Mountain House 800 kcal meal within the hour to replace my carbs as quickly as possible. The others all came in at various times in good order, but we were left missing Glaswegian Michael and Banbury-based Ming. Both of these guys were sporting hefty rucksacks and we were concerned for them. Michael eventually arrived beating the 10 hour cut-off. In fact as long as it took Michael to complete some stages we always knew he would make it. This guy is slow, steady and unstoppable; The Terminator. We knew if there wasn't a way over the hill, he'd smash his way through it to get home.

Ming however, was a different story. A few of us gathered on the finish line as the deadline approached and then passed. Dusk came, went, and pitch darkness fell over the dunes. How demoralising to be finishing your first day in total darkness, and have to be using your head torch. Ming had failed on day 2 in 2006, and it looked like he could go out on day 1 on 2008. A few competitors abandoned and were brought back on quad bike leaving Ming the only person left out there. Many people and camera crews gathered on the finish line, as did Race Director Patrick Bauer. There was some concern Ming was lost for a while, but then he was found and apparently abandoned, but then it was announced he had rejoined the race to cheers from everyone. A head torch blinked into view in the distance and a camera crew raced out for some advance footage. Ming, walking sticks in hand, was on autopilot, marching towards the line. He crossed the line without stopping 40 minutes after the deadline. He was walking with his eyes closed! He was totally out of it and didn’t know where he was, and afterwards had no memory of that evening . He was stripped of his pack by the doctors and half carried into the medical tent where he was asleep before his head was on the bed. We were all worried but doctors assured us he was fine, but exhausted. He went back to our tents positive that was Ming out of the race, either by time elimination or medical direction. Once again I slept on the outside edge of the tent, and kept awake by the raging wind that picked up during the night.

31/03/2008 - Stage 2 : Erg Znaigui/Oued El Jdaid : 38 km

Weather at 8.00am: 19,8 °C / 40% hygrometry
Weather at 12.00: 40 °C / 16% hygrometry

Runners awoke with a smile on their lips. The dunes belonged to the past, but they did some damage (6 competitors gave up), cooling down the least experienced competitors’ ardour. Today’s stage, with less sand and more rocky surfaces, was done with at infernal speed (13,5km per hour) by the lead runners, and most notably the two favourites Mohamad Ahansal (1) and Salameh Al Aqra’ (71) who never let go of their top positions. On the finish line, the Jordanian competitor, who seemed happy enough with his second rank, paid homage to his Moroccan rival: “yes, yes, he’s the champ”. Mohamad looked at him, thanked him, but didn’t seem to believe him: “the race is far from finished”. The Spanish runner Jorge Aubeso (622) gave renewed proof of his great shape, with a beautiful third ranking. He’s now fully reassured as to his knee trouble and can officially admit at last he would like to finish amongst the first three.
On the women’s side, Toda Didi keeps shining. Not only was she the first woman to reach the finish line, but she came 33rd in the general ranking.
Runners went through a village called Jdaid where a cooperative workshop, a day centre for children and a health centre were built in 2007 thanks to the work of the EAUSOLEIL charity Yet another sign that the Marathon des Sables is not just a sport competition…

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I didn't awake with any smile on my lips. I was tired. I had got 2.5 hours, perhaps 3; broken sleep that did little to repair my mind or body for the day ahead.
On the flipside, the course looked easier despite the increased distance. I foolishly hoped that I could complete the day faster than the previous one, despite the mileage difference. The problem with the road books is that you can never tell what the terrain will really be like.

Much to everyone's amazement Ming came back to the tent, announced he was still in the race, ate some food and strapped on his pack. We were amazed and impressed at his resolution. Patrick Bauer announced at the start line that Ming's effort was so impressive that he had waived the cut-off time as it was the first stage.

I had the time to prepare my feet properly today; pre-taping all the areas prone to blister. I was tired but breakfast perked me up and we wandered over to the start line at the earlier time of 8am to stand amongst ropes to spell out the number 23 for the helicopter.

You know it is strange; you feel tired from the previous day, you tell yourself to start slow, maybe even walk, but the music starts, the countdown begins and you find yourself running across the line.

Nevertheless I could see there looked to be a lot of 'runnable' ground, at least for the first half of the stage so I decided to adopt a run/walk strategy. In the cooler temperatures of the day I ran for the first 45 minutes, walked for 5 minutes, and then did a 20 minute run and 10 minute walk strategy all the way for CP1. The ground was good, but stony, as can be seen below.

A cushioned shoe with a sturdy sole to prevent bruising is what was required this year I thought. The New Balance 1100MDS is just what the doctor ordered for me. Three people in our tent used them, and they had no complaints. I had not ingressed any sand from yesterdays dunes, which meant that I was unlikely to all week. The Raidlight gaiters were glued and stitched and were working well. Hugo in our tent was in Trabuco's, an MDS competitor favourite, and he suffered on this type of ground. His gaiters were fine, but his shoes caused him problems as you will read later.

At CP1 I swapped my socks as was now my routine, mixed up my electrolyte and carried on. I continued on, maintaining my run 20, walk 10 strategy which felt comfortable initially, but became tougher as we entered Wadi's (dried river beds) which typically have sand maybe a few inches deep at most, but making progress difficult much like dunes. I decided to slow down and walk the last few k to CP2 to conserve energy. It felt hotter that the previous day, but it wasn't affecting me too much I thought. I flipped between 10 mins running and 10 walking as I crossed the furnace like salt plains which seemed to radiate heat back at you.

After the salt flats I was slightly anxious about an area marked 'crevasse, difficult passage'. This turned out to be little more than a 3 or 4 feet drop into a 15ft wide track and 4ft climb out the other side. Worry over, easy.

The other side there was mud flats; packed dried out earth. It kind of looks like broken chocolate doesn't it? No Steph, you can't eat it!

After that there was a short section with some vegetation used for camel grazing, on the lead into CP2. At CP2 they made the mistake of announcing to everyone that it was 40C. It was only when I sat down to swap my socks that I suddenly felt very hot and uncomfortable. I hadn't really noticed the heat much whilst on the move. A hot wind blasted through the tent. I aired my feet and took an extended break. I upped my fluids and ate extra food. After 20 minutes I felt fine again and continued on, though more cautiously.

I had read in the roadbook that there was a 300M over the El Habet Jebel (hill/mountain), so my pace was slightly more cautious mixing in a little more walking to conserve energy on the way to CP3 at the foot of the climb. Across the stony plains the climb came into view; the hill crossing to be made where the ridgeline dips in the middle.

That doesn't look like a 300M climb I thought to myself as I approached? In the middle of the desert there were kids that would line the route, appearing from nowhere, no houses in sight and as young as 3 or 4 years old. Some would just watch and clap, but most would beg for 'Bon bon' or 'Gateaux' or anything they could get in fact. Also, they all wore jumpers? Some competitors would give them half empty bottles of water or energy bars. I would avoid high-fiving them for fear of catching infection. I'd just give them the thumbs up usually.

I spent my now customary 10 minutes at CP3 with the foot airing, sock changing and refuelling. I felt pretty good and looked up at the hill absolutely sure that it was nowhere near 300M. In fact 100M gain was more like it. I strode out as I ascended and even though it was a sandy climb I made it in good time and wasn't at all fatigued. I took this shot looking back down the way I had come, CP3 in the distance.

The shame shot with me spoiling the photo, sorry.

This one looks forward over the next few smaller climbs and into the distance to the finish some 5k away.

I ran down from the summit and across the stony ground hoping to finish the whole distance running. However about 1.5k before the end the faint path in the stones vanished and there was just rocky ground, with stones the size of tennis balls. Running across it was risky in my tiring state, so I opted to walk it in and ensure I didn't turn an ankle.

I crossed the line in 06H28'52 with an average speed of 5,86kph; a faster average speed that the previous day. I was happy enough with my performance, not too tired, but still annoyed at having to carry 4.5l of water back to my tent. Martin had arrived before me, having passed me during my extended 20 minute rest at the second CP. He'd had a better day, opting to run more and walk less. He was a 2hr 45 marathon runner before being the victim of a hit and run accident which left him in a coma. Still, he miraculously survived and resumed running managing to do a 4hr30 marathon and then a 3hr 15 marathon. He's hoping to improve further at his next event.

The others came in over the next couple of hours, even Ming who made it in on time. We were impressed with his effort. He had a better day and looked to be on the road to recovery. Everyone ate and settled in to sleep as the sun set on day 2.

More high winds kept me awake, and gave me another poor nights sleep.

01/04/2008 - Stage 3 : Oued El Jdaid/Ba Hallou : 40,5 km

Weather at 8.00am : 19,7 °C / 24% hygrometry
Weather at 12.30 : 48 °C / 11% hygrometry

Today’s heat was simply stunning, with incredibly beautiful and ever changing landscapes. The desert is most certainly not some boringly lengthy flat piece of land, far from it. Here, one goes within minutes from golden sand dunes to black marbled mountains, from a white dried out lake to reddish peaks that wouldn’t be out of place in classic Western movies. A feast for the eye. Both for onlookers and for competitors, who were taken by today’s course through most of what the desert can offer in terms of relief. Only 787 of them were left on the starting line this morning, and those were rather anxious about the long and hot stage ahead. Salameh Al Aqra’ (71) didn’t mind, choosing today to challenge Mohamad Ahansal (1) : he started off at full speed and kept the lead all through the heat, winning it with panache but not managing to shake off the Moroccan favourite. In Mohamad’s words: “we played cat and mouse”. Spanish competitor Jorge Aubeso (622) got a bit lost in the dunes of the Easter Erg, ending up in 5th position, and rather tired too.

The bivouac is set at the foot of the impressive bar of the Jhing El Jebel, which means runners will have a very precise view of the 1000 metres sandy climb awaiting them tomorrow, as opening for the long 75km stage. Looking up to the mountain, Mohamad Ahansal speaks of “bou’ou”, a monster scaring children off in the Moroccan oral tradition. Like everyone else, he can hardly think of anything else but tomorrow…

As a special treat to his runner, Patrick Bauer ran today’s heat. Tapping into his last reserves, he reached the finish line just one second behind Patrick Haddock Paddy Haddock, as he’s known to his friends, advised our very own Pat to drink lots of water.
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I sat up, rather than awoke, having been awake for what felt like hours. I had stomach pain for much of the night, and took some Imodium when I got up. Also, I was going to sleep in the middle of the tent from now on I decided. I was sick of taking the full force of the wind. I lay in my sleeping bag and took a photo of the camp at dawn.

I managed to get out of my sleeping bag and took a couple more. The white tents are the admin tents, except that little white square tent by the black ones which is a toilet tent. These were not as bad as I had feared. They had a plastic floorboard with foot outlines to stand on, and a hole in the middle with a pit underneath.

I managed to eat my breakfast ok, but was fatigued and knew that I would struggle today. I looked at the roadbook and knew there was a lot of sand today, and people around camp were already referring to it as 'Dune Day', as if day 1 hadn't been enough! I started off at a jog as usual, but this soon became increasingly broken by the sandy terrain encountered in the first 9k. It was all sandy wadis and Glen's; like a series of small dunes with a bit of gravel in between. It wasn't enjoyable and I switched between walking and running to suit the terrain.

The mixed terrain continued until the dunes proper came into site at 9.5k.

We entered the dunes and already it felt hotter than before (it was 48C that day and some people registered 54C in the dunes!). I took this shot just entering them, plus the second shot looking back at the last fairly (and I use the word loosely) good terrain we would see until mile 18!

I took this a few kilometres in, looking back. Sometimes the dunes were not always high, but walking in sand is never easy anyway.

On stage 1 I talked about climbing a particularly high dune, hoping to see to the end of the dunes section, but just seeing more dunes. This is what I meant.

After 4.5k CP1 came into sight, but much to my dismay the dunes continued immediately. If I had studied the roadbook more closely this would not have been such a shock.

I was feeling rough at CP1, and had to take 30 minutes rest to clear my head. The tiredness from lack of sleep was beginning to catch up on me, so I upped my fluids and ate more food to compensate. I got to my feet and ploughed back into the dunes for the next 5.5k. I didn't know it at the time but the slight dip in the mountain in the background (top right) was where I would be climbing about an hour later.

As I got closer to the hill, wading through the soft dunes, I did put two and two together and realise that was where we were headed.

If you look very closely you can just see the little dots (people) on the top of the 200M climb, which really was 200M this time and not a misprint (I assume) like yesterday.

It was a very steep ascent; a mixture of chunky rock at the base and a little sandier with boulders further up. Hands were needed to climb here, the first bit of scrambling all week (but certainly not the last!). This sequence of shots gives you a flavour and hopefully illustrates the steepness of the climb.

The way down was a slow, picky descent, amongst the boulders to reach the basin the other side which offered no comfort as it headed straight back into yet more dunes.

As a walked through them I noticed a young child, carrying something on her head, glide along the dunes some 100M to the right. I don't know how she moved so fast on the soft sand, and with no water either, but I felt very inadequate. 3k later the dunes gave way to CP2, and I took 20 minutes this time adding some additional tape onto my feet in areas I felt hot spots appearing. 400M after CP2 it was back into dunes again for another 3k. This really wasn't funny anymore. The slipping and sliding around was tiring me out, and I wasn't very awake to begin with. Mercifully 3k later the dunes ended for good. It was mile 18 (29k), and it had been soft sand and dunes all day, as well as baking hot.

The dunes gave way to flat ground, initially with a light dusting of sand and then to dried packed earth and finally something that resembled runnable for me.

The packed earth continued all the way to CP3. My taping had done the trick, with no foot problems seen when I swapped my socks, so I continued on after just my regular 10 minute stop. I didn't time the 10 minutes, but by the time you walk over to the tent, detach yourself from your pack, sit down, change socks and then mix up some electrolyte, then put yourself back in your pack and shoes, 10 minutes had passed, always. This is one of the reasons that average times for the day always look slow. People are running, but stops at checkpoints drag the average speed right down and it looks like you are out for a stroll every day.

I left CP3 but it was back into a sandy wadi, and fairly soon passed the Ba Hallou ruins.

We then crossed small dunes, but I had got my second wind at this point and was running, regardless of terrain. I had lost stacks of time that day and wanted to make up a few places. I ran virtually the whole way from CP3 to the finish, peaking at 6mph at times and taking about 30 places. 30 places doesn't mean much when you are in the 400's, but if kind of makes you feel a bit better! I finished the 25.5 mile course in 08H08'56 with my slowest average speed yet of just 4,97kph.

Martin was already in, and had been in about 40 minutes I think he said. I was clearly getting slower and suffering. I drank my daily Rego, dehydrated and ate my meal as everyone else drifted in. I was obliterating my food every day, and not leaving a morsel. I thought that 3000 calories would be enough, but it clearly wasn't for me. Others felt sick and could not eat, but I was permanently ravenous. I was obviously burning a lot more calories than I had to consume.

Ming did not come in before the 11 hour cut-off. Once again it went dark and we got concerned. In the end he came back in a total time of 12hrs 15 minutes, a hour and 15 over the allocated time. He had got lost in the darkness and we think poorly directed by an official who also told him not to worry as there would be no penalty and he was fine. We were pleased to see him back and settled in for the night.

It was no surprise that I slept poorly again, even though I moved to the centre of the tent; 2 hours sleep again. That was about 6 or 7 hours sleep since I started the MDS; not good, and it was about to all catch up with me.

02/04/2008 - Stage 4 : Ba Hallou/Oued Ahssia : 75,5 km

Météo at 8:00 am : 17,5 degrés et 23% d’hygrométrie
Météo at 12:00 am : 34,1 degrés et 16% d’hygrométrie
Météo at 2:00 pm : 47,0 degrés et 11% d’hygrométrie

It’s obviously the « main course » on the MDS menu, the mythical stage everyone is most longing for or dreading: 75,5 km to pit oneself against the desert and, even more so, against one’s own resources. Rather merciful weather conditions allowed both waves of runners to set off with a smile, at a three hours interval. An opportunity for the slowest runners to admire the leaders’ pace and, often, to stop and cheer them.
This stage is a “tour de force” not only for the runners but also for the organisation: everyone has to give its best, especially in the night time. A laser will be guiding the competitors who also have luminous sticks and distress flares. Doctors and race officials are spread along the course in six check points. They will not getting more sleep than the runners, staying up all night, under the supervision of two most useful helicopters. Today more than ever, managing the race is a real challenge. Some competitors plan to run straight to the next bivouac; others will be making good use of the last three check points to get some rest and have a bite to eat.

Coursewise, the heat is in two phases: an extremely difficult first one, with a terribly steep climb (25% slope factor), and an easier 2nd one, with flat and straight grounds, an opportunity for the lead of the race to have a bit of a fight.

One thing’s for sure though: tomorrow night, all competitors will be champions.

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I felt shattered in the morning after my broken and worthless sleep. I had 47 miles ahead of me and they weren't easy miles either. The course looked tough and where it wasn't hilly it was sandy. I decided to start the day walking instead of running, a change from every day so far. I reasoned this would enable me to stave off fatigue for longer. I fully intended to go straight through to the end and estimated that at an average pace around 3.5mph or a little less I would finish in under 14 hours. I knew I would be out for a long time, and with less running to focus my mind I decided to use a small MP3 player I had packed. This was suggested by the students at MMU. I had been breaking up the sections between CPs with landmarks as they suggested, so using the MP3 player was a new weapon today.

We got a shock about 7am when race official came to our tent and said to Ming "You do know you are out of the race don't you?" What followed was a two hour battle which sadly ended in Ming's elimination for coming in 15 minutes outside the already 1 hour extended finish time. We all felt for him, as he had failed in 2006. To get this far and to fail on a technicality and not for a medical reason was terrible. He went back to Ouarzazate that afternoon and we didn't see him until our return there.

We set off at 9am, 3 hours before the top 50 athletes, who lined the start to wave us off. I enjoyed the MP3 accompaniment as I walked along that morning. I was tired and apprehensive, but cheerful somehow.

From the roadbook I knew there was mostly flat stony ground for the first 7.5k before we hit the biggest obstacle of the week, the El Oftal jebel; a 1k climb of average 25% gradient. I set off at a quick march, around 4mph and watched the jebel approach.

The rocks turned to boulders on approach, and the pace slowed and became much pickier. There was a shallow valley on the route just before the main climb, as if to add insult to injury.

After the valley we began the ascent proper, everyone choosing a route they deemed best.

The boulders gave way to a pure hill of sand for the second part of the climb. It doesn't look much but this was a draining climb.

You may get a better perspective looking back down.

I met Martin adjusting his pack near the top of the sandy section, and took these shots looking up to the third and most dangerous section of the climb.

Most people went to the right and climbed the rocks, but a few brave souls climbed the much steeper sand to the left. It was undoubtedly quicker but what cost to the level of exertion I don't know? I took the rocky path. Half way up it became a full-on all four limbs climb; pulling yourself up with your hands. It was a little scary, as wearing a backpack if you overbalanced you could fall backwards and go sailing down to certain injury and even taken tens of runners (well, climbers at that time) with you! The rock once again gave way to a steep sandy climb that warranted a rope being fitted by the organiser. It would have been way too dangerous without it.

I took this photo looking down; the rope is just obscured by the athletes, but is about 10M lower. Long way down eh?

Here, a 180 degree turn and view of the very slow and picky rock-strewn descent.

By the time I hade made the descent an hour had passed since the climb began. My GPS had shown an average speed of 0.0mph when climbing; that is how slow everyone was going! It had been a slow process queuing up the slope. Someone more impatient had taken an 'off-piste' shortcut, dislodged a large boulder which nearly landed on a guy behind. I was told he picked up a 5-hour time penalty for his trouble.

A short rocky plain gave way to more dunes at the base of the descent. I had been steadily pushing calories into myself to cope with the increased exertion, and had felt well hydrated up to this point. I didn't realise quite how much of my snack ration I had got through though, until later on.

The dunes lasted only 1.5k and then CP1 sprang into view.

It had been a long haul, those first 12.5k to CP1 with just 1.5l of water, which would not have been enough. I had saved extra from the night before in order to stay hydrated. 3L was given at the CP in recompense. I didn't stay at the CP any longer than normal and decided to push on. The next section was absolutely flat, another stony plain. I really enjoyed this section. I was doing a fast walk, still maintaining around 4mph and literally skipping along to the sound of Renaissance Classics on my MP3 player. Oh, when I say Renaissance I mean the dance club and not classical, sorry! I sang along to my favourite records from 15 years ago, including the awesome uplifting Yeke Yeke by Mory Kante. I also put on my favourite trance track of all time, Delirium - Silence; has to be the 'Tiesto in Search of Sunrise Mix', or it's not worth listening too! I was really happy as I went along. People I passed and passing me, must have thought I was crackers!

The sole of my left foot felt very sore as I crossed the plain and I was certain I had picked up my first blister. 10.5k of stony plain later I reached CP2, which was next to a solar pump paid for and installed by the MDS organisers from proceeds from the race.

I went to the recovery tent and stripped off my shoes, saying hi to my Irish friends from Tent 97 who I kept bumping into all the time. The sole of my left foot, right between my big and second toe did appear to have a blister. I got out my hypodermic needles, fitted one to syringe and pricked it, but nothing came out. I pricked it a few more times, nothing? I decided to play safe and inject some Friar’s Balsam into it anyway. I had forgotten just how much this hurts. Forget the red iodine that Doc Trotter put on your blisters; that it like being tickled in comparison to the intense burst of pain you get from injecting a blister with Friars Balsam. I made a strangled cry as the liquid filled the blister and sealed itself back to the skin. I put on a small dressing and put my shoes back on. The stop had cost me about 30 minutes, but it is better to repair than to soldier on and make it worse I thought.

A packed earth track and slight incline lead out of CP2, and I passed a restaurant in the middle of nowhere. Wonder if it gets much business?

Then the terrain gave way to a salt flat. I distinctly remember looking at my watch and seeing that I had been going for exactly 5 hours at this point. I remember it distinctly because I was passed by the first of the Elite athletes, who himself had only been running for just 2 hours! What surprised me more was that it was not Ahansal in the lead, but number 4 who was some kind of a long day specialist I was later told.

The flats continued until the Ras Khemmouna jebel came into view; we would cross in the centre on that sandy pass.

Although nowhere near as high as the big climb earlier, this was still a taxing ascent, being mostly sand climbing again. At the summit I reached into my snack supply for the today to find that it was gone. I had eaten my thousand calorie supply after only 30k? I'd also eaten one of my Peperamis, but had one left so ate that. I was now worried at how much I had gotten through, and that there was 45k still to go.

Of course the other side of the hill, there was always another hill, albeit after a short stony plain! I was in CP on one of the days when I guy asked "what's the next leg to the CP like?" to no one in particular. A girl answered "A bit sandy, a bit stony, couple of climbs". He said "You made that up", she replied "yes, but I'm probably right!"

Now, accept my apologies for a gap in the photo's here. It was in the next 5k that the wheels came off the wagon. This was despite having a few minutes amusement as a local guy came riding past on a pink moped, to the howls of laughter from competitors. After the next jebel pass the ground was mainly stony, with a slight incline and it was around then I started to feel strange. It was just a 'I'm not right' feeling. This got worse, so I upped my fluids in case I was dehydrated. By the time I got to CP3 I was feeling pretty terrible. I went and sat down under the shelter, stripped off my pack and shoes and hoped to feel better. After 30 minutes I wasn't feeling any better. I decided to use my one and only rescue carb-gel for whole week. I ate it and I guess I was hoping for an instant response, to spring to my feet and feel fine again. I didn't. I thought maybe I was dehydrated, and this worried me. I asked a guy to keep an eye on my pack for 10 minutes and went to the doctor’s tent. I told them I didn't feel well at all, and I wasn't sure what was wrong. I actually asked for an IV, but she said I did not appear to be dehydrated, so I asked if she could test my blood sugar, which she did. In hindsight I think the gel I had consumed gave a bit of an artificial reading, because she said it was ok. She offered a dehydration sachet, but I said I had my own Diorolyte. I went back to the shelter tent and had the Diorolyte, and maybe 10 minutes later I felt well enough to carry on, but by no means that great. I had spent an hour at CP3 already, and knew I had to get moving.

What I didn't know, again from poor study of the roadbook that day, was that the terrain between CP3 and CP4 was very difficult. First there was a climb up the Mhadidd El Elalhau jebel which was long and taxing, followed by a series of very slight descents immediately followed by another climb. It was like you took 3 steps up, 1 down, then 3 more steps up over again, all over the next 5k. I was back to feeling dreadful by now, really not right at all. I was worrying more because I had upped my fluids, but was passing water almost immediately after drinking. I knew that if you had not taken enough salt the body would dump water, and also if you had taken too much salt the body would dump water. I didn't know which it was, and I knew both were dangerous. This caused a knock-on stress effect, which was actually worse in hindsight, that any actual symptoms probably. The light was fading now, and I was in single file marching behind about 10 others. My mind was racing and I was convincing myself that I was very sick and in trouble. This just created a spiral effect and I was getting rapidly worse. It was at this stage that I thought I was going to have to quit the race.

Over the last summit there was a very long unpleasant sandy descent. Half way down there was a doctor in a land rover asking how people were as they passed. I indicated I needed assistance and he took me over and sat me down on the floor by the car. I explained my symptoms of continually passing water and just generally feeling dreadful. I had got it into my head that only an IV would rescue me, and so asked the doctor for one. He said that they only had them at the CPs. I started to shiver now, as the light failed and day cooled, and my body cooled rapidly after the tough ascents of the last 5k. I was shivering too much for the drop in air temp. The doctor put a thermometer under my arm and it read 35.3C. That's too cold, and I knew it. I sat on the floor feeling like I was dying. I stared off into the distance and pondered giving up right there and then. It would be so easy just to say "Finished", and they would pack me off in the car and take me to a CP. They wrapped me up in a blanket, and I had the presence of mind to retrieve my Tyvek suit which I put on, before going under the blanket again. The doctor suggested that I eat something, but I told him I had eaten all my snacks already. He said "don't you have anything left in your pack". Then I realised of course I did, I had food and snacks for 3 more days. I reached into the pack and took out rest-day 5's food. Inside was my temporary rescue remedy as it happened, Pop Tarts. Now these saved me in La Trans Aq last year. They are quick calories, and lightweight too. I forced them down me over the next 30 minutes. I asked how far it was to CP4, the doctor said 7k and it was all flat (he lied to me, or maybe I assumed flat meant not sandy!). I told him I didn't know if I could make it, but he just said try and make the CP.

I finished the second Pop Tart and also ate two Peperamis from other days rations. I didn't feel a great deal better, but I knew I had to get up or I would be out of the race. I had warmed up again by then, and got to my feet, the doctor helping me put my pack back on. He radioed my number ahead to ensure a medial check at CP4. By now it was almost dark and I could see people ahead with head torches on, and glow sticks attached to their packs (they were provided at CP3). I set off down the sandy descent but could not raise the effort to stop and locate my head torch, which I had unwisely packed it inside my kettle (to save space), somewhere in the middle of my pack. In the distance a laser came on at CP4 (and CP5) to guide athletes in.

The descent through the soft sand was awful, and the flat was just as sandy. I started to feel worse again and fumbled around in my front pack for more calories. I thought maybe I dropped my MP3 player, but it was dark, and I really was beyond caring by then. I heard other things fall to the floor but it was too dark to see them without a torch, so I wandered on. CP4 just wasn't getting any closer. The green laser just seemed to always be the same distance away. I knew I had to find more calories, so I opened my pack and took out half a dozen electrolytes from other days. Over the next hour I would tip them into my bottle, mix with 50cl of water (just a mouthful of water) and just drink them, trying to get a rapid sugar hit to carry me through the next 10 minutes. I considered just pulling out my flare and quitting, but I had wisely packed the flare at the bottom of my pack, and it was hassle to get it out. Also I figured it would take help as long to reach me and take me to medical as it would for me to get to CP4 on my own.

I was continuously going to the loo; I think this was a stress reaction, rather than any physical problem. I began to recognise that fact, and think back to my brush with death training session in Tenerife. I questioned myself. Did I feel as bad as I did that day? Probably not. I kept repeating to myself that my body was strong, and it was my mind that was weak. My mind was the problem here. I was stressing, I was panicking, and there was no genuine problem. I repeated this for what felt like miles, but in reality was just a few k. I had little care for my belongings and even self esteem but was having trouble seeing where I was going in the darkness. I found the glowstick was given, and lit it. Rather than put it on my back as directed, I used it as a torch of sorts. Also I reasoned that if I collapsed, they would have a better chance of finding me with a glow stick lit.

I staggered on for what seemed like an eternity, continuously drinking, then passing water straight away, and overdosing on sugar. None of this was probably helping in hindsight. Slowly CP4 got closer, and I wanted to break into a run to get help but it was too dangerous in the dark. I had a single minded focus to get an IV, sure that it would rescue me. This thought kept me going as I wandered into CP4. I asked for medical straight away and they took me into the Doc Trotter tent. I explained my symptoms and asked if I needed an IV, but also this time I said "I don't think there is much wrong with me, other than I have got myself into a panicked state". I sat down and unwrapped my foil blanket to avoid a repetition of the earlier temperature drop. The doctor looked and my eyes, tested my blood pressure, heart rate and blood sugar and everything was normal. The doctor's demeanour was excellent, and he reassured me there was nothing wrong. He thought I was likely exhausted and probably needed some food. This made sense to me. Just a few hours sleep in the last few nights and my voracious appetite for calories had come to a head. I was irrational due to tiredness and low on calories. He said I need to stay at the CP and sleep. He gave me a 1/4 of a sedative, but I later lost it (probably a good thing). He took me to the rest tents where many competitors were sleeping. By chance Andy from my tent was there and he agreed to help me cook a meal. I thanked the doctor and asked his name. It was "Jan", pronounced "Yan". This was a good omen. My grandfather’s name and my middle name is also "Jan". When you are feeling low, sometimes good omens are what are needed.

I opened my pack and took out my food for day 5. There were two meals, one of which I cooked, the other of which I must have accidentally lost or thrown away in the darkness there (I didn't realise until later). The Mountain House meal tasted amazing and it wasn't long before I actually felt good again. A lesson for everyone and one that I mentioned in previous blog posts: I always knew that my mind was the weak link. My body would be convincing me that I was dying but my body was in fact much stronger than I gave it credit for. As you are going through that feeling, it is so hard to convince your mind and this is where mental strength comes in. If I had not had such traumatic episodes in my training then I would have likely thrown in the towel that night. Try and endure some misery in your training, because if everything always goes well you will be ill prepared for when things go wrong. Most important of all, just don't whinge and moan in self pity, get your head down and get on with it. Lesson learned, again.

It was 8pm and I should have set off straight away, whilst feeling good again, but the doctor had told me to rest and so I did. Andy said he was going to leave at 11:30pm and I asked him to wake me. I rested poorly, maybe grabbing half an hour’s sleep and when 11:30 came I had crashed again and wasn't feeling like getting up. I told Andy I would leave later on and tried to sleep again. The tent was getting crowded by then as more people tried to rest. I didn't get any sleep of worth, my mind continuously saying I should get going. Eventually I got up at 2:30am in the cold of the night. I lacked motivation and again it crossed my mind to just quit. However, I wasn't that weak anymore. I recognised I needed more food and ate my breakfast for day 5, cold; eating from inside my sleeping bag to stay warm. I got myself together, slowly, putting on my Tyvek suit, attaching the glow stick to my pack this time, and putting on my head torch. I looked around and miserably realised there were just 4 people asleep at CP4. I was at the back of the field after being at that CP for 7 hours. I had lost an hour at CP3 and another half hour with the doctor en-route to CP4. I had lost 9.5 hours through weakness of the mind; idiot.

I was feeling pretty sorry for myself as I set off alone from CP5 at 3am, heading towards the laser at CP5 which was 12.5k away. Luckily I didn't know it was that far, otherwise it would have made me more miserable. The course flags every 500M had orange glowsticks. It doesn't show up, but this was a typical course marker that night.

I was wallowing in self pity and being on my own with 20 miles left to go, and even made a video where I generally sulked about my current state, and moaned that I had so far to go all alone. I was however not altogether 'with it', and the camera was set to photo and not video, so I just ended up with a black photo! So you have been spared listening to me being a sulky child. During those cold lonely hours I pulled out this more than a couple of times. My mum had written a note on the back, but it was the verse that was extremely appropriate and gave me strength. Sorry it's in such bad shape, but it had been through a lot. Click to enlarge it.

I realised I had lost my MP3 player, much to my annoyance and so I sung to myself. It probably was a good thing I have no video of that too!

CP5, like CP4 never got any closer as I walked on in the cold night. The laser failed at one point and I was forced to take a compass bearing to keep me on track. They revived the laser about 15 minutes later so all was well. I looked at my compass and saw that East was behind me. I kept glancing back waiting to see the first light of dawn. Eventually a faint light appeared and I just about captured it.

Seeing the first light of dawn, made me feel much better. It was a new day, light was returning and things would be ok. I approached CP5 alone and asked the checkpoint staff if I was winning? They all laughed. I didn't notice but the official photographer caught me there and they posted up a picture of me on the Darbaroud website.

There were lots of people asleep at CP5. I guessed at about 30, but it must have been over 100 because my placing leapt up from 4th from back, right up to 652 overall that stage. I didn't spend long at CP5. I just removed my Tyvek jacket and set off. A few minutes later I took off my head torch too as dawn had well and truly arrived.

I was walking at about 3.5mph at that point as I headed into the horrible sandy wadi that would take me to CP6 and beyond. I passed the Geordie guy 'Cookie' who was limping along with his sticks with ripped up feet, doing about 2mph. He was surprised to see me and I told him the wheels had come off my wagon. He later told me he was secretly pleased to see my suffering as it made him feel better! Still, at least I helped someone that night! I moved on and through the wadi trying to stick to what would have been the river banks and the firmer sand. I took this shot just to show you my 30ft shadow in the early light!

I'm not sure what time I got to CP6 but I guess it was about 6:30. I was going just to truck straight through and calculated at my pace I could make it back by 8am. Then Alan Silcock came out of the rest tent and saw me. He and his pal Westy had just arrived there. They had not stopped at all since the start the day before, they had just kept on moving, but at a slow pace because of Westy's destroyed feet (He ended up in a wheelchair after the event incidentally). Westy was totalled and was staying to sleep. Alan asked if he could come along with me, but he was not moving that fast. I figured sure, I had lost so much time it didn't matter anymore and it would be good to make it to the finish with Alan anyway. We set off in the sandy wadi still, and Alan gave me one of his walking sticks. I used it now and again, but I was pleased I had decided not to take mine in the end. I had definitely picked up more blisters that night from all the walking. It began to get warmer quite quickly and I stripped off my Helly Hansen top that I had also put on at CP4.

The wadi path dragged on, but eventually we emerged onto the flat stony plain and saw the finish in the background. That's Alan with the white tents of the bivouac and finish just visible.

I took this tongue in cheek video near the end. Me and Alan decided to run the last k, and I professed we'd trucked right through the night!

Running that last k felt good; some kind of redemption. We were both tired, Alan's feet were a lot worse than mine, but we ran about 5.5mph right the way through to the end to claps and "Bravo" from competitors who had finished 12 hours before us, and knew we had had a rough time out there. It's a nice feeling, the camaraderie out there. Me and Alan shook hands and went our separate ways.

I finished in 23H39'10 with a woeful average speed of just 3,19kph. I should have finished in less than 14 hours, what a disaster.

Everyone in our tent was back, except Michael the unstoppable who came in later. I rehydrated, but then realised I had lost some food. The excellent Best of Morocco rep, Rob, managed to get replacement food for me that was donated by others. A big thank you to everyone who donated stuff to me; without your help I would not have had enough calories for the last couple of days. I discovered 'cliff' energy bars from a donation and they were wonderful; highly recommended.

Day 5 was spent resting and repairing my feet. I'd picked up a few blisters, some especially deep ones on my soles at the base of my toes that I had to get Doc Trotters to treat. They did a good job, even if the nurse stuck the scalpel into some healthy tissue! I gave out a healthy yelp! I was shuffling along at about 200M every 10 minutes wearing some borrowed flip-flops. Do make sure you pack some, or even better some slippers. Walking around in your running shoes, even if you put your feet in a plastic bag first is not nice or easy. Take slippers, you have been warned! One tip, the Hotel in Ouarzazate 'Le Berbere Palace' will give you some if you ask. Take them out to the desert with you. I only found out about this when I got back from the desert.

My feet were fine compared to Hugo's, who was walking on raw meat. Here are his feet bandaged up. He was missing about a 1/3 of the skin on his soles.

I shuffled along to the internet tent and wrote my daily update, wondering how my sore feet would carry me through the marathon day the next day. As usual I got lots of emails that night. You all did me proud. I got the most in the tent every day. I was kind of hoping I would get tons of pieces of paper and after reading them, shove them into the storage bag for my sleeping bag and get a nice squishy pillow. Sadly my plans were scuppered where they put about 10 or 12 emails on every page! Still I got 4 or 5 pages on most nights. Thank you so much. There are far too many of you to mention, but it was nice to hear from complete strangers as well as good friends. You all really helped, trust me!

I took a shot at sunset.

That night I fell asleep at 7:30pm and was told I was even lightly snoring imediately; unheard of for me! I was totally out of it and got an incredible nights sleep; the sleep I had badly needed all week.

04/04/2008 - Stage 5 : Oued Ahssia/Isk N’Brahim : 42,2 km

Weather conditions at 8.00am : 16 °C / 24% hygrometry
Weather conditions at 12.00 : 46,7 C / 12% hygrometry

After the mythical 75,5 km stage, completed over two days and causing 19 competitors to give up, comes the classical 42,2km marathon stage. This year’s edition of the MDS may have been lucky enough to be spared violent gusts of wind, but it got its full share of heat: temperatures went wild today, turning the race track into a proper furnace and giving each runner the feeling to be “sous le soleil, exactement” (“under the sun, precisely” as the Serge Gainsbourg song goes).
Today’s stage winner, Moroccan runner Aziz El Akad, is a true “classic marathon” expert ; he was extremely motivated from the start. Together with Jordanian competitor Salameh Al Aqra’ he gave on-lookers the surreal spectacle of a final sprint. Mohamad Ahansal, happy to follow the fight from close behind, was escorted by many children all through the stage: “that’s what I did too, many years ago. I hope that one day they can run the MDS as official competitors”. Fellow Moroccan runners El Akad and Ait Amar consolidated their 3rd and 4th position in the general ranking, right before Spanish runner Jorge Aubeso.
As to amazing Touda Didi, the fireworks go on with no true challenger: no one can doubt she is simply the best.
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I woke a little early that morning, but I was refreshed. I took this from the comfort of my sleeping bag, which if anything was too warm that week.

The tents came down and I took a few photos and a video to give you a flavour of camp life in the mornings.

Others in the tent were apprehensive about the 26.2 miles ahead (actually it was 26.5), mainly due to their ripped up feet. I however wasn't nervous, and I said I was after a good time that day. I had destroyed any hope of a decent placing overall because of the day 4 wobble. The other days I had finished in the 3 and 400's, but on day 4 I had come in 652nd; a disaster. I could not do anything get back the 9.5 hours I spent lounging in medical tents, but I could make myself feel better by running the marathon stage to my expected ability. My feet were sore, as were everyone’s, but after painkillers for breakfast you strap you pack on, get into your shoes and the pain mostly goes away, at least until the finish line.

I didn't care much about the final stage, because it was so short, everyone would come in within an hour or so of each other, so this was the stage where I was going to perform. I said I wanted to finish sub 8 hours, but actually I wanted sub 7 hours. I analysed the roadbook in detail, something I should have done on previous days, although even analysis didn't always tell the whole story sometimes. I could see that the first and last legs were good, but from CP2 to CP3 it was a sandy wadi that would warrant caution to avoid exhaustion. I had plenty of on-the-go snacks donated by competitors, enough to fuel me through the day.

We lined up to AC/DC's music once more and were off. Today felt different. It felt like a race, and everyone went off fast. My sore feet gradually numbed themselves and my average speed rose from 4.5mph up to 5mph; my training pace. I ran the first 4.5k to the base of the first hill. I slowed to walk for the ascent and also added a few extra minutes walking as a rest. I resumed running after 5 minutes and then did my run 20, walk 10 strategy. Stony plains followed on the way to CP1.

Today I didn't stop to change my socks at the CPs; the damage was done as far as I was concerned. Besides, today I was running more and walking less which would cause me less problems anyway. I mixed up an electrolyte on the move and headed straight out. I was feeling good. Straight after CP1 was another short climb.

The other side of the hill was a sandy section, then a sharp sandy climb.

The descent from the hill was another slow one, picking your way down amongst the boulders, but a welcome stony plain lay ahead; good running terrain.

Just before CP2 we entered the wadi and the inevitable sand.

At CP2 I mixed up more electrolytes, took a few bites out of the Cliff bar and headed back out. I knew we now had a 9k wadi stretch. We were also travelling 'upriver' so to speak, so it was a slight 9k incline. I made a tactical decision to walk the majority of this section. The sand wasn't too deep, so I could maintain about 3.8mph.
Shortly after CP2 I passed the Aït Kherdi ruins.

I was still feeling pretty good. I knew it has a hot one that day (almost 47C) but the heat wasn't affecting me. I was single-minded in wanting a good time and ploughed on regardless.

Eventually the wadi gave way to a palm grove just after some ruins, and then finally CP3.

I had no electrolyte left by CP3 having dropped half a sachet by accident but I did have a donated gel, as well as the remainder of the Cliff bar. Back running, I headed out and across the stony plain that would lead all the way to the end of the stage.

I ran most of the way, but built in a few 5 or 10 minute walking breaks to ensure I didn't tire myself out. I finished alongside a Frenchman, who I had caught up over the last k. I suggested we finish together rather than I overtake him a couple of hundred metres short of the line. We enjoyed the camaraderie of it and congratulated each other at the finish.

I finished in 06H33'40 with an average time of 6,43kph. My GPS logged the overall distance as being a third of a mile more than the 26.2 advertised, so I read a slightly higher average speed of exactly 4mph. This was the kind of performance I was more than capable of each day, but through fuelling mistakes and fatigue, failed to always live up to my potential.

I was first back to the tent, and thankfully everyone else made it in on time too.

I had crossed the line on stage 5 and it was all over bar the shouting. Stage 6 was an 11-mile fun run and I was going to just enjoy it. I slept ok that night; not great, but not too bad. There was a concert from the Paris Philharmonic orchestra and an opera singer, but I wasn't too fussed about it to be honest. I could hear it from my tent anyway. Some people got up and sat in front of them and maybe soaked up some atmosphere, but the connection between the MDS and a classical concert was a little lost on me. I'm obviously lacking a romantic soul.

05/04/2008 - Stage 6 : Isk N’Brahim/Tazzarine : 17,5 km

Moroccan competitor Mohamad Ahansal won his second Marathon des Sables, treating himself to a stage victory, and the crowd to a splendidly accrobatic cartwheel on the finish line in Tazzarine. After a long series of MDS coming second after his brother Lahcen, this child of Zagora demonstrated this year a great strategic sense. He took a clear lead on the first stage, gaining 17 minutes over his challengers, and then simply kept control over them. Despite his best efforts, Jordanian runner Salameh Al Aqra’ could never make up for his stage one defeat, although we owe him much of this week’s excitement. Just like last year, Aziz El Akad won a well deserves third rank.

On the women’s side, no surprise: Touda Didi from Morocco won all the stages way ahead of her competitors. It’s her first MDS victory, but most probably not her last, considering her utter domination of the race. After her come Simone Kayser and Lis Kayser, ex aequo – mother and daughter ran together all week long.

On the finish line, competitors expressed their joy, their pride or their relief in various fashion. Many broke in tears in the MDS director Patrick Bauer’s arms. Many also chose to pay homage to their country, holding out brand new flags, from Morocco of course, but also from the UK, Jordania, Colombia, Australia, Japan, South Korea, Luxemburg… Families were there to share the runners’ joy and many competitors held their children’s hand to run the last few yards taking them to the finish line.

Some kissed the ground while others, despite their exhaustion, insisted on a final sprint.

Thus this 23rd Marathon des Sables comes to a close: once again, the human and sportive adventure was completely out of this world. Our 1200 runners and organisers will be going home with stunning images and extremely moving memories. No doubt they’re already thinking about the 34th edition. In Cha Allah.

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The tents stayed above our heads this morning and we got ready in relative comfort. The Berbers came around collecting items from the camp. People donated food, and even bed rolls, pots and pans, all sorts.

Michael, obviously eager for the off, snook away before we could get him for the final-day tent 99 survivers photo. Ming of course had gone on day 3, so we are left with: left to right

Me (sporting a buff instead of my usual cap today), Andy, Kevin, Martin, Toby and Hugo.

After that we gathered ourselves together and everyone headed out for the start line one final time.

A shot as we stood waiting and a video as we all soaked up the atmosphere to the sounds of AC/DC, one final time.

A video and picture of the final coundown, the Eurosport copter buzzes overhead and we move forward to cross the start line one final time.

I set off at a nice steady 5mph. Many people dashed off at best speed, but today wasn't about time for me, that was yesterday. I set myself a goal of 2hrs 30 and headed out. We were warned the ground was very stony today and to watch our step to avoid turning an ankle. All the more reason to take it steady I thought. Imagine breaking your ankle with 11 miles to go? There was some mild undulating terrain, but mostly it was stony plain all the way into CP1 where our medical cards were collected. I thought of poor Hugo's feet. Hugo loved the soft sand now, and not the rocky ground.

I refilled my water bottle at CP1, took a few bites of energy bar and then set off on the last lag, across the plain with the town of Tazzarine in the distance.

Just before the town we left the plain and I walked along the packed earth road that lead into the outskirts.

The houses on the edge of the town are little more than mud-brick buildings, the kids have no shoes and there is certainly no sewerage. I feel sad as I see the people who live there, knowing I am going back to a life of luxury in comparison to theirs. I have saved a few energy bars and drinks powders which I throw out to kids, as I walk this stretch and head towards the tarmac road and 1.5k to the finish line.

I walk the first few hundred metres and then break into my 5mph jog. I'm not interested in snatching 1 or 2 places, I just try and gather my thoughts and feelings about the upcoming finish line which still lies out of sight around the corner. I think I'm more emotional about the thought of crossing the finish line, than I am when I cross it. The last week has been very tough, I got very low on day 4, and I have been on quite a journey. I pass Mohamad Ahansal, however he was walking back the other way! He is posing for photos with locals and other runners. I give him the thumbs up as I pass, which he does back to me. I turn the final corner and the finish line is ahead. I can't help myself and double my speed to almost a sprint, only slowing to avoid overtaking a couple of other competitors. I slow and cross the finish line behind them and Patrick puts on my medal and hugs me. For some reason I find myself thanking him over and over again "Merci, Merci", for the torture he has put me through! I get someone to take a picture of the moment for me.

I finished in 02H23'06 in an average speed of 7,34kph. My quickest average, but it was only a fun run after all, and I really didn't put in a great deal of effort for a time either!

Overall standing: 53H35'42 with an average speed of 4,58kph. Position 556/802.

I thank Patrick again and filter down the finish to pick up a packed lunch and a timed-departure bus ticket.

I am a little overwhelmed by the amount of people at the finish. It is a scene of chaos as competitors try and find a bit of space to sit down. I find a spot but as soon as I open my packed lunch I am swamped by kids begging. There is no way I am going to be able to eat it, so I just close it and send them away. I reflect on my achievement.

Afterwards

The coach journey back was only 3 hours, thankfully. I took the photo with the medal you saw on the earlier blog post whilst in my hotel room. I got showered and washed the desert out of my hair and body. We descended on the hotel buffet like a plague of locusts. The sweet trolley got a severe beating especially. Most were too tired to prop up the bar until the early hours and headed to bed, me included. The following day we wandered round Ouarzazate, and believe it or not, there was a hailstorm! I managed to upset a few locals with my aggressive haggling, to the point where one guy refused to haggle. "Won't haggle!?" I thought; sadly lost on him. Back at the hotel I successfully put back on all the weight I had lost that week at the evening buffet and then went to bed. The journey back to the UK was a nightmare; a 5 hour delay leaving Morocco, £110 extra for a new flight to Manchester after a missed connection and even that was delayed. I got home at 10pm to get a call at half past that my son and his mother were on the way to A&E in an ambulance. I was at the hospital until 2am, they are both fine now, some kind of respiratory virus.

The MDS was a tough week, and the difficulty I had on day 4 should have made the achievement of completion that bit sweeter. However, after 2 years of training "just finishing" turned out not to be enough. My target of finishing outside of the back 100 was acheived easily, but if I would have not lost those 9.5 hours on day 4, in the medical tents and CPs then I would have finished in the top 400. OK, there is not much difference between 556 and 400 in real terms and if I would have finished in the top 400 I would have thought I should have finished in the top 300 or 200 probably. Everyone is their own worst critic and I should be content with my achievement and look at where I came from; from nothing, someone who could run about 3 or 4 miles two years ago. I've moved the goalposts as time has gone by and I have got fitter. I have yet to realise my full potential, I know that. I could get fitter and faster. What will I do next? I don't know at the moment. Maybe nothing, maybe endurance knitting? I set out to complete the MDS and complete it I have. I may well revisit this post later and add more, or post my thoughts as the days progress.

Over two years of training, and for the last few months training has felt like my full time job. 80 miles a week; it's felt like I was training like a professional. I've used up a lifetimes worth of babysitting credits with my parents, and my son deserves to get his father back at weekends. I will phone up my friends and see if they still remember who I am too. I have now got my life back from the MDS which has been all-consuming. I'll make one final post though with my thank you roll call, because there are a lot of people who deserve to share this medal with me, for their help along the way.

I was asked to attend Blackfriars School (the charity I ran for) acheivement awards last week.

I did so and they kindly said thank you to me up on stage and gave me a huge card from the students and staff.

It's shown below.

It's a really nice gesture I think. I thought you'd like to see it too!

Home

2008-04-08T13:00:00.002Z

Got home late last night after a nightmare day full of travel delays. I am thankfully able to shuffle along at a respectable pace (with slippers) and will pull together my thoughts and photos over the next few days and write up my MDS 2008 report, which I am sure many of you will read with interest.

I will try and publish it all in one post so it reads top to bottom, rather than in stages where a latecommer would see the last stage at the top. I'm sure I'll get something up by the end of the weekend if not sooner. Bye for now.

Stage 7 11 miles

2008-04-05T16:44:00.001Z

Photo says what needs to be said. See you at home.

857--stage 5- the marathon day - 26.2 miles

2008-04-04T21:21:00.000Z

Today I re-wheeled the wagon...with Bridgestones. Today injuries are forgotten, blisters ignored, and its painkillers for breakfast. I got my first good nights sleep and was well fuelled from food donated by everyone, after losing my food on stage 4; Today properly rested and fuelled I ran the stage I am capable of. Everyone goes for it today treating it as the final stage as tomorrows 11 miles is well, a fun run in comparison to the rest of the week. Despite 3 steep ascents, checkpoints, and lots of sand I finished the marathon in 6hrs 30, 4mph average position 367 (unconfirmed). Oh and it was 46C. thank you everyone for messages I got about 40 last night, a record I think. you have all helped me through this. I wont be given any messages sent after about 6pm today, so any after then send to my blog or own email. I will cross the line tomorrow even if I had 2 broken legs. it has been quite a journey, lots to tell. thank you and see you back home. from a very sore but happy Me.

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N'utilisez pas la fonction "REPONDRE", l'envoi de message se fait uniquement par le Site Web Darbaroud.com !!! MERCI
ATLANTIDE ORGANISATION INTERNATIONALE
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Don't use "REPLY TO", mails are only sent via the Darbaroud.com Website !!!THANKS
ATLANTIDE ORGANISATION INTERNATIONALE

857--stage 4 - 47 miles

2008-04-03T21:13:00.000Z

The wheels came off the wagon yesterday. Stage 3s brutality was nothing on the long day. soft sand underfoot all day, many climbs including the 1k which was all fours climbing and pulling yourself up on ropes. been living off 2 hours sleep with nightly wind storms and burning through my 3000 calories a day still starving. all caught up yesterday when I had used up all of my on-the-go food (1200 cals) + fuel from breakfast by cp3. dazed and in a mess I begged for IVs at every CP, they would not give me one. lost equipment and food in dazed state. got to cp4 in 8 hours (16hr cutoff) and tried to sleep. didnt, left alone at 3am with 20 miles to cover in dark alone, hit rock bottom, but dragged myself through and home in 23:40, i guess 30 places from back? feet started day 4 fine, now bad. taken me 10mins to hobble 200m to internet tent, have to run a marathon tomorrow and beat cutoff. other than that im fine. seriously I am; last big hurdle tomorrow. off to get feet butchered now.

857--stage 3 - 25 miles

2008-04-01T21:35:00.001Z

brutal. absolutely brutal. was not well in the night, stomach. barely slept. had to start slow; whatever the map says the first 18 miles were dunes in blazing temps, only puncutated by a hard 300M climb. needed 30 mins at CP2 to pull myself together and 20 at cp3 to apply foot tape. realising I was well down from previous days I ran from cp3 to the finish and got back maybe 30 places. took me 8:10 just 2.9mph average. tomorrow is what it is all about; 47 miles including huge 1k 25 percent climb. thanks for messages they really help. send me good thoughts for tomorrow, it is going to be hell.

857--stage 2 - 23.5 miles

2008-03-31T21:23:00.000Z

today was further but looked easier on paper as there was less dunes and mianly flat. ran most of way to cp1 and onwards to cp2 but walked last few k to cp feeling hot! told at cp2 it was 40c so that was why. had to take a break for 20 there to cool down and rehydrate. decided to walk to cp3 accross blazing hot salt plains and continued to take on extra water. felt v good by cp3 and got up the 300m 25 percent climb with ease. ran last leg to finish except last k - too rocky and unstable under foot. -6:28 average 3.5mph. feet still ok, feel good. dune day 25 miles tomorrow. check mds website for updates from organiser too. bye for now. thanks for messages!

857--day 1 19.5 miles

2008-03-30T22:36:00.000Z

hardest day 1 ever possibly. 10 miles of big dunes in the stage. sandstorm blew up at 5am and made prep difficult and spooked me a little. read some cards from home and that sorted me out. everyone walked first 8 miles of dunes to cp, I only averaged 2.7mph. Then I did what I trained for and ran. I alternated walking sometimes. 2 Miles of dunes at end, big sting in the tail. got in about 5:50hrs 3.3mph average. no idea of place, not imporant. feet still ok, hydration system seems ok. right quad pain from IT band likely to cause me probs as week goes on, hope it doesnt get too bad. I look forward to getting messages from you. Mum confirm this gets posted on the website please. so far so good, 23.5m tomorrow. bye for now. Rich

Correction on distances on previous blog

2008-03-30T17:45:00.002Z

arrived at camp. Distances this week are, in miles, 20, 23.5, 25, 47, 26, 10. First day starts with 12k of sizable dunes. Longest day includes the 25% 1k ascent. toughest climb...33c in shade at 10am 18% humidity

In camp

2008-03-29T14:24:00.001Z

Arrived at camp. Distances this week are in miles, 20, 23.5, 47, 26, 10. First day starts with 12k of sizeable dunes. Longest day includes the 25% 1k ascent. toughest climb... 33c in shade at 10am 18% humidity.

News, Sports, Entertainment and Weather on your mobile. Text MSN to 63463 Now.

After 2 years and 3 months of training

2008-03-23T21:03:00.013Z

...the MDS is here.

Before I post any further remember that later this week you can go here to the Marathon Des Sables website, and a link will appear allowing you to "Write to a competitor". My race number is 857 - Richard Weremiuk. You can send only text, no pictures, and send as many messages as you like. It is going to get harder as every day goes by, so I'd love messages every day. Even if you've never spoken to me, commented on my blog or anything. Just to know that someone somewhere is supporting me will give me strength. The organisers distribute the messages on paper to the competitors every evening. You will also be able to see the results on line. If all goes to plan I should be able to send an email which will be published as blog post update every day, so check back here between the 28th a 5th April for news.

My main website is here and please remember my fundraising effort here

It does seem a long time ago since my first training post. where I ran 3 miles, but it also feels like it has flown by?

Lets wrap up this weeks training first. I did 45 min sessions at MMU on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. I am eternally grateful for their support, and have 1 final session on Tuesday. I went to the gym on Tuesday and Friday; I did a 30 minute interval session, followed by strength and stability work on Tuesday, and just strength and stability on Friday. Everyday this week I have spent a total of 45 mins each day in the sauna.

On Saturday I ran 10k with my actual fully packed MDS backpack (more of that in a minute).

Here are a couple of shots. You get a feel for the countryside I have been running on for two years. I am standing at the top of a hill in Apedale, a former mine. I've climbed this hill and those all around in almost every training run I do. I feel kind of obligated to post a shot! I look tired (eyes)in that first picture. The second one is bleached out, but what you are actually looking at is my actual MDS pack with all kit and food inside.

On Sunday I ran 8 miles (850ft ascent) with no pack. I seem to have a right Illiotibula band niggle. I'm not too worried about it, but I'm getting a sports massage on Tuesday evening anyway, so hopefully that'll help. My left calf seems to be ok, but I didn't tempt fate by running with a full pack today just in case.

I weighed out all my food and kit, bagged it all up and packed it into my 30L Raidlight pack on Saturday. It was a squeeze getting it all in, but I managed it. I am concerned about the state of repair of my rucksack. On Tuesday I picked it up and a 12-inch rip tore open. I've stitched, glued and taped it back together. This isn't the first repair I have made to the pack; it was stitched up before La Trans Aq last year. The pack is 2 years old and quite literally falling apart. I just hope it'll make it 152 final miles. I am carrying a needle and thread in my equipment, just in case.

Here is my food list. (Click to enlarge)

You can see I am carrying around 3000kcal per day, which is way over and above the 2000Kcal requirement. I remember feeling hungry on La Trans Aq sometimes (I carried around 2600kcal), so I have a little more food this time. Also because technically you are required to carry 2000kcal per day, including the last day for some bizarre reason (short distance usually and then straight on the bus to the hotel), I have added a 200g bag of trail mix for almost 1000kcal. I will be eating that bag of food throughout the week, and not on the last day. In case you are wondering what the Oxo cube is for, it is to make a quick hot drink if I want one. I also have 14g of coffee granules to use if required. I am carrying mostly savoury snacks to eat on the move, and will take Endurolyte capsules hourly as well as drinking SIS Go electrolyte mixed to half strength.

I am carrying 19,400Kcal versus a requirement of 14,000.

Next my backpack contents:

Most of the kit needs no explanation really. I am only carrying spare socks, not spare clothes. I am taking a Tyvek suit for the cold evenings and mornings. I will take a Helly Hansen Lifa top with me and make a call on the administration day if I will actually include it in my pack; it just depends how cold it gets at night. I have a first aid kit of pain relief tablets and blister care products. Because I am very concerned about hygiene out there I am packing hand cleansing gel, and chlorine tablets to keep my eating equipment and drinks bottles clean. Most of my items are individually sealed in plastic bags for hygiene and to protect from the sand.

After getting the fuel tablets, distress flare and road book on the administration day, plus the 1.5l mineral water bottle on the start line my pack should weigh around 10.5 kilos. This will reduce my around 750g per day as I eat the rations.

Finally, what I am wearing:

I have not made a final decision on some items, hence the OR between them. I will likely wear the Ecomesh top instead of the UA compression top though. Not sure about my legs yet; shorts or full length cover (sun protection). My goggles have a removable seal to leave them as standard sunglasses. I am carrying my GPS watch, it's a Globalsat and not the Timex which got lost in December in Tenerife in that storm I got caught in. I use the watch purely to get my average speed, and the other watch to keep an eye on the humidity.

On the kit subject I have had some terrible service (theft) from a website called aktive8 (www.aktive8.com). So I am posting an attive8 review here to hopefully give people a heads up on what kind of company they are dealing with. Just type aktive8 reviews into Google, and read the horror everyone else has experienced as well.

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I ordered some goods on the aktive8 .com website which was easy enough to use. 4 days later I checked the order status on their website and the status still showed only "Payment Taken" and not "processing" or "dispatched". I emailed the company and said "if the goods have not already been sent out then cancel this order". They clearly paniced and emailed back to say "it was dispatched yesterday". Then mysteriously a few minutes later, my online status changed to "goods dispatched on [previous days date]. Two weeks later the goods still had not turned up and the company could provide no proof of postage, and took days to answer emails. After being threatened with trading standards they simply stopped emailing or contact of any kind.

My take is that they did not have the goods in stock, and then panicked when I said to cancel the order and made out as though they had already sent it, when in fact they had not. They hoped to fulfill the order at some later date, but when told I was no longer interested and would be pursuing a refund (which they refused to do) they stopped emailing.

They are currently under investigation by trading standards and my credit card company. I still have no refund (14/05/08)

Beware of this company, who clearly employ terrible business practice and customer service. There are countless reviews of the web of customers getting worse treatment than me. As a matter of standard practice, the company takes your payment in full even if they do not have the goods in stock. Rip-off merchants.

EDIT: (01/08/08). My credit card company has investigated and concluded the same as me. They have pulled my money back out of Aktive8 account and refunded me in full.
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So that's it. I am virtually all packed and ready to go. I'd better say my goodbyes to you now because I am not necessarily going to get time to post again before I leave for London on Wednesday. Thank you to everyone who has already posted or emailed their best wishes. I fly out on Thursday, the race starts on Sunday 30th March and runs through to 5th April. I am hoping to get some treatment on my back and IT band to hopefully get rid of my last niggle.

Working on the assumption that is successfully treated then I have no excuses for myself. I am happy that I am fit as I could be.

I was looking at the average speeds of last years MDS finishers and was shocked to discover that a mid table finisher (position 300) averaged only 3.7mph for the whole distance. Now these will have been athletes certainly a lot more capable than I am. I finished 3/4 down the table in last years La Trans Aq, so I must work on the assumption that I could be averaging around 3mph. I will be running when I can, but stopping to refuel/rest at checkpoints as well as tough terrain are the reason that the pace looks so slow. It just goes to show how hard this event is.

For me there are just two worries in the MDS - heat and feet.

My feet are in as good condition as I could expect them to be. I take care of them nightly, but just this week I watched an MDS DVD and people who had never had a blister in their lives got them just 6 miles into day 1! Everyone I am sure secretly hopes that they will not get blisters for a few days, when the reality is far worse. None of them could explain why they were getting blisters, but I imagine that it is a combination of the heat, uneven terrain and being forced to walk rather than run. Everyone is going to get blisters; it is just a question of management. I have all the tools to repair my own feet and hopefully avoid a visit to the infamous doc trotters who cut off the entire blister at soak in iodine to avoid infection. If my feet get in a real mess then I will reluctantly seek their help, but minor blister and can treat. I have sterile syringes, hypodermic needles and Friars balsam to drain and then inject the disinfectant into the blister, before taping it down with bandage and Leukotape. I know my own feet and the areas that I typically blister, so I will just have to keep a close eye on the situation.

Heat - well this boils down to hydration. In it's simplest terms I must stay hydrated to complete the MDS. It really is that straightforward. However, it is a trap that dozens fall into every year, so it is obviously not as easy as it sounds. If I were to average a pace between checkpoints of 4mph then I have calculated that I should be drinking at least 750ml every 45 minutes. This means I would have 1.5 hours to get between checkpoints which could be 6-8 miles apart, at a guess. Obviously 8 miles apart I have to make 750ml last an hour. Regardless, the amount I am drinking will never replace the amount I lose over the day. I will always end the day in some state of dehydration, so rehydrating at the finish line and during the night is absolutely essential. I have to adjust my pace to my condition, the terrain and the weather conditions. If I feel rough, I slow down and up my water intake. I have to drum this message into myself. I feel as though this is all I have to do to complete the MDS. I am not overly concerned about the distances. Yes some are long and it is going to be hard, but I have covered them all and more in training, so endurance is not an issue. I just need to stay well hydrated and well fuelled.

Mental toughness is what everyone says is needed. I've had some tough old times in my training, and I fully expect to have to call upon the strength gained through misery to bring me through the week.

So, I am about to embark upon what has occupied what feels like my every waking thought for over 2 years. My entire life for two years has been devoted to this goal.

I am well motivated, I am well prepared, and I am well trained. I am going to complete the Marathon des Sables.

Taper, at a temperature

2008-03-16T16:41:00.003Z

So, I began my taper this week.

Monday was my usual day off, and on Tuesday I went to the gym. I did 25 minutes on the treadmill doing intervals; 3 minutes at 14kph and 2 minutes at 10kph, repeated. Following that I did an hour long workout, concentrating on stability and strength work. I then went into the sauna and did 2 x 15 minute sessions (just seated, not working out, bathing suits only allowed!). The sauna is 80C, so you lose a lot of fluid. I'm constantly sipping water whilst in there and also rehydrate at home.

On Wednesday I did a 6 mile trail run, taking in over 800ft of ascent. It seemed like a holiday just running 6 miles instead of 12 or 13. I wore 5 layers of clothes for the session; a thermal baselayer, 3 thick jumpers and a waterproof jacket zipped up over the top to keep me on the boil. Add to that a fleece hat, I was literally cooking.

On Thursday I did 6.5 miles, this time as an interval session, including 4 interval reps on a hill. Again, I wore the same 5 layers of clothes and baked even more on this tough session which took in almost 1000ft of ascent.

On Friday I did my usual gym session, and then later that evening had some sports massage and chiropractic treatment from my uncle Kevin. My left calf is still not in great shape. At the moment it is not causing me major problems, but it is tender to the touch and knotted still. Then finally I had a late sauna just before the gym closed; time totalling 40 minutes between 3 sauna sessions. I had also had late sauna sessions on Wednesday and Thursday evenings too.

On Saturday I loaded my pack with 8 kilos of weight, put on all my layers of clothes again and did an 8 mile trail route taking over 1000ft of ascent. The lighter pack allowed me to run at a better speed, averaging almost 6mph. Straight after I had another 40 minutes in the sauna.

Today, Sunday, I have done my last run of any significant distance before the MDS; 12.5 miles. I used the same 8 kilo pack, and same 5 layers of clothes and hat, but also wore walking trousers on top of my shorts too. I chose an enjoyable and familiar route through Swynnerton old forest, adding in a new short section and taking the total ascent over 1500ft. I got through 1.5l of electrolyte quite comfortably due to the excessive fluid loss (all the layers) and averaged 5.5mph for the distance.

I have covered 36 miles this week, which is to plan, and intend to cover 20-25 this final week.

I have got all of my kit, and more or less weighed it all and have it all finalised. I will pack everything towards the end of the week, enabling me to do next weekends runs with the actual MDS-weight pack and see how it feels. I intend to get some more treatment on my calf and see if I can get it in better shape for the event. It is not causing me major concern, but I'd like to get it as good as possible before I go. Also this week I will continue to train with layers of clothes and use the sauna. It's obviously a poor substitute for actual acclimatisation in a hot country, but it is the best I can do. I'll do all my final preparation such as making sure my nails are all cut, and I'll probably get a Lionel-Blair-cut (if you remember the advert!). The less hair I have the better, for heat loss I figure! That said, I won't be shaving my legs!

I will be running on egg shells this week, scared that I will turn an ankle! I just need to make it through one more week of light training! I will also start loading up on carbs, but since I eat so many anyway, that won't be anything new. However, I do hope I will put on a little weight; some fat stores to burn in the race week. I am less than 63kg now! My hydration has improved, and virtually every day this week my score has been in the low 500's (less than 600 is well hydrated). I will continue to monitor that this week, especially closely because I am losing a lot more fluid with all the layers of clothes, and loss of around 1 litre every 15 minutes in the sauna.

So, I enter the final week of training.

Have a good week.

The final training plan

2008-03-10T20:54:00.004Z

This weeks update is one post below this one.

Here it is, the last 4 weeks plan. It doesn't seem so long ago since I created my two year plan. Well, just over 2 years really, since I created it at the end of February. I still have the entire spreadsheet from day 1. I don't think there is a lot I would change with hindsight. I wrote a plan for myself as someone with, at best, very modest running ability and transform them from a half dozen miles a week runner to an aspiring ultra-endurance athlete. Do I consider myself an athlete now? No, not yet, but I have come a long way my early postings where I would run 3 or 4 miles or so. It would be fair to say that the MDS has totally overtaken all aspects of my life. Every waking thought for the last two years has been about this race! I'm sure some professional would scoff at my training schedule, but I'm happy with the place it has bought me to and that's all that matters really.

Four weeks left and I then can un-pause my life and rejoin society!

Here's something nice. I recently gave a talk to the pupils at Blackfriars school, who I am raising money for. They posted this thank you letter to me.

Old Faithful

2008-03-09T20:51:00.007Z

It has been an up and down, then back up week!

I rested on Monday and on Tuesday did a 13.5 mile trail route, taking in 1400ft of ascent. Despite the nights getting lighter I am still finishing the weekday routes in the dark, so I have had ample practice with a head torch now. Despite the manufacturers claims of 80 hours life on the Petzl plus, I've noticed that the brightness deteriorates after a lot less than half of that. In fact I'd go as far to say as it is probably a quarter of that. I'll have to make sure I only use the torch on low beam in the evenings on day 1-3 of the MDS to ensure my battery is still at near to full strength on the long day 4, when I really need it.

On Wednesday I was up at 4am and flew to Belfast, then drove to Londonderry where I was working. After work I checked into the hotel and went straight down to the gym to do a session I was dreading; 13 miles on the treadmill. Given I am training at an steady endurance pace, there is nothing more demoralising to know that you will be running on the spot for the next 2 hours. Still, it is good mental training I told myself. So I watched plenty of people arrive, workout and then depart whilst I jogged away. I think I heard every track of the music they played twice, and had no headphones to listen to the TV's. Still I got through the session and was left very hungry. The hotel restaurant had absolutely no pasta on the menu whatsoever, so I told the maître d' I needed a high-carb meal and she said it was no problem. She suggested a big bowl of pasta with sun-dried tomatoes and pesto. Since I eat this myself at home twice a week it sounded perfect. She came back and asked if I wanted any meat. I thought about it and yes, but just a little. The food took an absolute age; 40 minutes I'd guess, and when it arrived there was about half a chicken piled in slices on top of some (and not a very big bowl either!) pasta in full on tomato sauce with some pepperoni. So, absolutely nothing like she described! Still, I wasn't about to wait another 40 minutes, so I just ate it, needing to replenish those burned carbs. I was still hungry, and unsurprisingly there was no rice pudding on the dessert menu, so I left. I went down to the bar, eyed up a couple of scones, then bought and ate them to top me up.

I worked all day in Londonderry on Thursday and drove back to Belfast for my 18:45 flight back to Manchester. It was the first time the flight had actually been on time; a miracle. However, when I arrived the car rental place had no cars at Terminal 3 and took about 20 minutes to get one brought over from terminal 1. I eventually got home at 20:45 and just decided that it was too late to start running 12 or 13 miles. It's not so much the distance as the risk involved with running over rough ground; fields and woods, at night. If I were to put a foot wrong and twist or break my ankle I'd never forgive myself this close to the MDS. I decided to defer my run to the following day.

I woke on Friday and knew immediately my calf muscle was in bad shape again. I had tightness from the Popliteus behind the knee down the inside of my calf. It was tender to the touch again too, and the stubborn knot that I have had for weeks was worse too. It was not as bad as a few weeks ago, but I certainly didn't fancy my chances running 13 miles, then a full weekend running with heavy pack on top of that. It was almost as if sensing my need that my Uncle phoned and said that he could fit me in for an appointment; life-saver! I drove over and had 40 minutes sports massage on just the left calf. I didn't realise it, but my Peroneal tendon on the other side of that calf was in really bad shape too. So bad in fact that even after the full session it was still really painful and poor. My uncle then came in and continued, but with added 'oomph'. It is a case of just grinding your teeth and whimpering as he works it (knowing it is doing you good!), but it did ease he said. After that I hobbled (you would too after all the treatment!) into the next room and onto the interferential machine for 10 minutes. My uncle didn't want me to run at all; not on Friday or all weekend. In fact he said he thought I'd done enough miles and he'd be happier if I didn't run another step until Morocco.

I compromised and said I would not run that evening, and I would see what I was like for the weekends planned routes. I thanked him, as always, and I will no doubt be going for a few more sessions before I go to the MDS.

So I didn't run Friday. After the treatment there would have been no chance anyway, I was just too sore. I applied some Voltarol cream to the calf at the same time as doing my nightly foot care routine.

On Saturday it still felt tight, but I thought I could manage some kind of a run. I had planned 16 miles in with a full pack. Not wanting to tempt fate, I opted to try and run the distance but with a lightweight pack of just of 2kg (mostly fluids). However, to offset this, I decided that I would run at 9 minute miles instead of the usual pack-bearing 11-12 minute miles. I started running and just really struggled from the off. I always stop (stopping my watch) after about 10 minutes and do a full stretch routine, but this did little to help, even though I stretched for longer than usual. My left Soleus was tight and so was the area behind that knee. After about 3 miles I stopped to stretch it again, but again no improvement. I was getting the pins and needles, loss of feeling in my feet which is a sure sign my calves are not good. I was time conscious that I had to get back to collect my son from my mother, who was babysitting him, by 12:15pm. These extended stretch sessions had eaten badly into my time. I decided I would have to cut the run short, but wondered if I would even make it another couple of miles? Already I thought that Sunday’s long run would be lost. I was really demoralised at the thought of my last big mileage training week in ruins. I continued on and after 4.5 miles, almost in the space of 200M, I suddenly felt right. The numbness went, as did the tightness. Everything had just taken a really long time to warm up.

I had lost a lot of time and could only target 14 miles. My pace had suffered too and I had only averaged 9:19 minute, at the 7 mile stage. I turned on my heels for the return trip and tried to pick up the pace. I thought maybe I could grab a few seconds per mile back and bring the average down. I watched it tick very slowly down as the miles went by and wondered if I could actually get it back to a 9 minute mile average? Of course this would mean running the second 7 miles at around 40 seconds per mile faster than the first 7 miles. My pack wasn't too heavy and getting lighter as I drank, so I pushed that little bit more, and despite the route ending on a 2 mile incline I somehow got the average back to 8:57. So, the session had gone from disaster to triumph. I was happy, and Sundays run was back on.

I went out for a friend’s birthday meal on Saturday night in Manchester, but drove home afterwards leaving everyone else to go onto the bars. I got in just after midnight, and slept well, right through to 9:15am. I packed my rucksack, weighing in at 12.25kg and planned a route that would take in 2000ft of ascent; more than the 1500ft of ascent in the 'Grindleford Gallop' event that I had wanted to do that weekend. I wore clothes that I would wear in the MDS, but at the last minute threw in a lightweight Pertex jacket into my rucksack 'just in case'. I left in glorious sunshine and sunglasses but just 1 mile into the route at the top of my local 'hill' exposed to the elements it started hailing and went very cold. I slipped on my Pertex top to protect from the wind, but the hail turned to sleet, then rain and soon soaked me to the bone. Then, almost as soon as it had arrived, the weather changed again; back to sunshine. I dried off my glasses and ran on, and dried out in the process. It took me a long time to warm up again, but eventually I settled back into it. I ran the route from memory, even including some small 'new' sections which I managed to navigate successfully. After 10 miles there is a good 3 mile ascent which was quite steep at time leading into Swynnerton Old Forest. I stopped at 11 miles to fill up my electrolyte and found to my horror that the bag had burst. I had stored it in an unusual place, and I made a mental note not to do it again. So, I was down on electrolytes but had been getting through my cashew nuts at a steady pace.

My legs and calves started to feel tired after about 16 miles in the hilly forest terrain, aggravated by the lack of electrolytes no doubt. I was averaging 5.1mph at this point and was determined to keep it like that to at least the 20 mile mark. I remembered that sometime last year I had done a similar route and managed a 5.0mph average up to 20 miles before dropping off to a 4.8 or 4.9 in the last mile or so. Of course at that time I was carrying a much lighter pack. I can't remember exactly, but I'd guess it was 7 or 8kg. If you want to be a train-spotter you can look back over my old posts and find the one where I took a photo of my watch showing the 5.0mph average at 20 miles and tell me what my pack weighed!!

So I wanted to beat that average time despite having a much heavier pack. Despite tiring, I picked myself back up with a few psychological tricks and distractions and hauled myself from 18.5 to 20 miles and maintained 5.1mph! Yay! Still, when I did it, I knew that wasn't enough. I now had to finish the route and not lose any more time. In between then and the end were two unpleasant inclines, which tortured me. I was running on empty by now; no water or nuts left. I ran down the last hill and stopped my watch, fairly well spent, still at 5.1mph average; 22 miles covered. The heavy pack really had made itself known later in the route, but vitally had not rubbed me at all. You know why? I was using my old faithful two year old Raidlight Sac Runner pack, and not the Raidlight Evolution II that I have been using since December.

As soon as I had put the pack on that morning it had felt right. The Evo II has been serving me well, but as the weight has increased, so has my discomfort. I was getting rubbed by the pack, something I had never experienced with the old Sac Runner. Additionally the Evo II has some design flaws in my opinion. The elastic strap which houses the 1.5l water bottle on the front pack has frayed and torn because of the stress of the bouncing action. I don't think it will last much longer. The elastic on the Sac Runner is about 3 times thicker. Also when the Evo II straps are pulled tight, preventing any sideways 'swing' as you run, it sits too high on you back, again in my opinion, and causes the rubbing I have been getting; The Sac Runner always sits around the waist. I wanted so much to like the Evo II. It has some great features like the road book holder and it's smaller and more lightweight, but it is just not working for me. I did contact Raidlight about the quality issues, but they could only offer me a front pack from a Sac Runner in replacement, which lacks the two centre clips that the Evo II pack has. I declined as that would make the front pack bounce too much.

You've already guess that I will of course be taking old faithful with me to the MDS. It needs a lot of patching up in the form of sewing and duct tape, but I'm sure it will see me through the event. I feel strangely comforted knowing that it is coming along, battle scars and all.

So this week I didn't quite manage my planned 75 miles because I missed out that Thursday/Friday session, but still 62 miles isn't bad. I am also happy because it was with an overweight pack of over 12kg. I hope that my pack for the MDS will weight around 10-10.5kg, including 1.5l of water. I've always had this piece of probably totally groundless knowledge in my head that it takes 3 weeks for any physiological changes, from any running, to have an effect on my body. I am happy because today is my last 'big' run, I carried a very heavy pack, and it is exactly 3 weeks to the start of the MDS.

I am relieved to make it through this week and can begin my taper now. I will get plenty of treatment where required and must now concentrate on getting strong. That's not to say I am putting my feet up, as I still have about 35 miles planned for this week, and if I am feeling fine I may do a few more (but not too many!).

Have a good week.

No rest for the wicked

2008-03-02T22:10:00.008Z

It's been a tough week. I've had no rest; none from work, none from training. I haven't had a day off work for 2 weeks (it'll be 3 by the end of this week). Factor into that a lot of early mornings and air travel, and general disruption.

Usually I rest on Monday, but I had my second heat chamber session at MMU. After Fridays session, where I was pulled out after 33 minutes when my core temp hit 39.6, we decided to start slower and with slightly lower humidity (30-42% - still high!). I ran at 7kph for 20 minutes with no ill effects, and then the speed was upped to 8kph for 10 minutes, but with my temperature hitting 39.3 we decided to slow it to a walk, and just jogged the last couple of minutes. My temperature was 39.4 at the end, so I was still very hot, but at least I had made it through the full 45 minutes. I had used 1.5l of water and gained 0.4L in weight, so I had sweated out 1.1l; quite a lot! certainly more than I will have the luxury of drinking in the desert. My urine hydration scores had still not improved; still in the 700's (600 being 'Hydrated'). Although I only covered 7km, which doesn't sounds like much of a run, it was quite tough.

On Tuesday I ran into town during my lunch and collected my New Balance 1100MDS trainers from the cobblers. I'll post more about those later. So, I did 7 miles at lunch. In the evening I went back to MMU for my final heat chamber session with the students. I weighed in before the start at 62.1kg. This is perhaps the lightest I have ever been since being a teenager! After some discussion, they had left the dehumidifier running for most of the day and got it down to 18% at 40C (it did go up to 25% whilst running before they got it back to 18% again). The difference when I walked in was immediate; the air felt drier. Still, we decided to take it steady and start at 7kph and only upped to 8kph, then 9kph in the last 10 minutes. The difference was incredible. This time, I was not covered in sweat on my stomach and limbs, just sweating from the head. In other words I was evaporative-cooling. My core temperature only went to up 38.5C. I drank 900ml of water, and still weighed 62.1kg afterwards; so fluid balance. This was a great relief and confidence booster. It means I can run at temperatures of 40C with a low humidity and hopefully get between checkpoints 9-12k usually) using only the supplied 1.5l of water. I estimate to use 750ml every 45 minutes, so that is what I will budget for. I hope CP-CP will only take me perhaps 1.5 hours, though I realise there will be times this could take longer.

My hydration level had not improved after testing, so I'm taking more drastic steps to improve it. Firstly, one of the Students, Sarah has very kindly given up her own time and written me a document on Hydration. It explains the difference between Hypotonic, hypertonic and Isotonic and has recipes for each. I'm currently sipping one of those recipes as I type! Secondly, I have ordered myself a pocket osmometer to measure my own urine osmolality. This is a little over the top, but given that my body appears to 'normally' operate at this 700 - 800 dehydrated level, I need to address this and fast. If I get to the desert feeling my normal '700' self then I am going to get in trouble on day 1. I'll no doubt take the osmometer into the desert, at least to use up to the admin day and keep on top of this situation. Just bring me your first morning sample for my 'hydration drop in centre' if you are taking part in this years MDS!

I thanked all the physiology students, and the psychology students who I saw on Thursday evening, for their support before and I'm sure I’ll do something to show my appreciation when I get back from the MDS.

On Wednesday I did a 11.5 mile trail run, taking in 1000ft of ascent. I know I promised not to run too many hills, but I have no choice where I live!

On Thursday on did 12 miles, practically the same route as the day before.

Friday was my usual gym session, a little more focus on strengthening and some higher weights this week.

On Saturday I got up early and drove to Swansea, where I worked until 2pm. I then went to my hotel and changed, packing a 12kg pack and heading out on a pre-planned 16 mile run. Eight miles of the routes was on the beach from Swansea towards The Mumbles. I was pleased to take the opportunity to run along the flat featureless, and not to mention cold and windy beach. It was good mental training as well as getting some sand underfoot too. Because of the time I started (after 3pm) it was quite dark as I finished the last bit of the beach, again something which I can draw parallels to in Morocco on day 4. I got back to the hotel sometime after 7pm, after averaging a steady 5.2mph. The pack had no so much rubbed me, but given me a painful massage. After some pretty poor food service (1.5 hours late!) I went to bed.

I was up at 7am on Sunday for work and finished at midday. I then drove 3 hours home and set off for my run at 4:30 pm. It was one of those situations where I though, "do I really want to START running 22 miles at 4:30pm, knowing it will be getting dark in a hour". Still, of course I set off telling myself it's good mental training.

I had a few minor hold ups whilst I adjusted my pack, which with 12kg was really hurting my back now. I carried on but at 4 miles I stopped and decided to start taping up my back to prevent even worse damage. It was then an old man, in his 70's decided to walk past with his dog and strike up what I can only describe as a fairly bizarre conversation. I say conversation, but he just talked at me for 20 minutes. I just could not get away. Initially I felt sorry for him, assuming he had on one to talk to (probably true), but I made my excuses when the conversation took a particularly strange turn. Ask me about the budgie-man in the desert, and I'll tell you.

I managed to escape and it was already getting dark and I'd not even covered 5 miles. I ran on as the light failed and even took in a new piece of planned route, which I enjoyed and made me forget about the back pain. At the top of a 2.5 mile climb, at the 11 mile point, I stopped and put on more tape on my back. I had also been adjusting the straps and gradually lowering the pack down. This made the pack bounce more, but took away some of the pain, albeit temporarily. I ran down into Newcastle-under-Lyme and past my old high school, which looked much smaller than I remember before heading towards Apedale. By now of course it had been pitch black for a long time. I had been running with my head torch on, totally alone on footpaths that I think only I use. My mother phoned me, worried about me, and said she had stopped off at my house and left me some dinner. I felt slightly guilty as it was mother’s day and I hadn't even seen her. I sent her flowers today to make up! At 16 miles I walked up a 2 mile long hill. My back was torturing me by now. I had also not picked up one of my electrolyte sachets, so I was running low on fuel and flagging. I felt pretty rotten, and was strangely pleased by that. Tough, miserable training sessions are what get you through tough actual events. You draw on the mental strength from the training and tell yourself that you've been here before. It is this kind of miserable experience that I hope will give me the will to continue in the desert.

I half-promised myself I'd knock a mile off and only do 21, when all the time I knew I'd do no such thing. Doing less than I had planned, for no reason that feeling rough and tired, would be the first step to giving up when it comes to the real thing. I dragged myself through the last couple of miles, much of which I did with one hand between my back and the pack to ease the pain, and made it home; 22 miles and 2000ft of ascent, mostly in the dark. I dropped my pack and got straight in the car, drove to the nearest shop and bought a few bottles of Luzozade sport to boost my ailing blood-sugar levels and give me the strength to cook the dinner my mother had kindly left for me. I ate as much as I could, tried a bath but just could not relax, so I went to bed about 10:30pm. I slept quite well and got up at 8:30.

This morning my ankles and knees are sore, but I am in better condition that I expected to be. Including the heat chamber sessions I have covered 76 miles this week, and today I am resting from training as planned. This is my last week of high mileage, so I just need to get through it. I'm working in Ireland for some of the week, so it's more early morning flights and disruption. I expect to feel equally terrible next weekend, but can then take my foot off the gas and taper.

As mentioned, I picked up my MDS shoes from the cobbler this week. The cobbler is a true old skool craftsman. He first glued the Velcro on (I gave him a speech about not using super glue when I dropped them off, so he hasn't). Then he has machine stitched the Velcro, in one piece, at the top AND bottom of the Velcro strip. He'd even managed to get it to stitch through the hard plastic at the back of the MDS1100 shoes. Only across the toe where big rubber toe- stub is has he used glue only. He's also gone all the way around the edges and sealed it with more resin-type glue. There is now way a grain of sand is getting in that way. The only way it will happen is if the gaiters rip, or it somehow gets in over the top (I doubt it because I will use ZO tape around my ankle). He charged me £25 (and was worried about the amount!). To be honest, if they hold up (and I'm sure they will) and I survive the event, I'll go back and give him another £25. If you are struggling to get yours done, get them to this guy! Ask me for his details if you need to.

ECG tomorrow. It should make for some entertainment when it shows up a load of heart defects that are attributable to endurance training. Should frighten the nurse anyway! Medical certificate and ECG sign off for it isn't until the 18th March. Who said you could get into see your doctor in 48 hours these days?

I'll have to change my plans for this Sunday. I can't make the Grindleford Gallop because I am staying in Manchester the night before and can't take my kit along. I'll still do the distance, just not the course.

Finally, a sobering thought. This was posted on the MDS organiser’s website this week. The route for 2008 is 245.3 Km long, making it the longest ever in the history of the MARATHON DES SABLES.

Have a good week.

Legend in my own breakfast time

2008-02-26T21:10:00.002Z

Well, I've made the transition from the printed word to the airwaves today. I got a call late yeserday afternoon asking if I would come in to BBC Radio Stoke for an interview on the Breakfast show. Of course I agreed, a golden opportunity to raise the profile of the sponsorship effort. The interview was only 6minutes long (it flew by and felt like less). I was a little nervy, but I think I just about carried it off ok.

So, here's what I sound like, in the unlikely event you've ever wondered! I hope this link works. Oh, don't ask me why I named it BBC Radio 1 interview when I saved it. I think it was a bit of wishful thinking!

I've got more news for you on the climate chamber, that I'll post up in the main weekly slot.

BBC Radio Stoke Interview link

Just need to make it onto TV now, for some serious coverage. Still working on that one.

Fixed and Happy

2008-02-24T20:33:00.006Z

Great week.

I worked in Ireland Monday to Wednesday. Monday I worked in Londonderry, then Tuesday and Wednesday in Belfast. On Tuesday night, instead of using the hotel gym treadmill, I decided I would see if I could find my way around the city centre and down to the river for my first run in almost 2 weeks. I managed to find the river and followed it for a while before hitting the docks and ending up in some industrial park. I carried on for a little while before returning by almost the same route, just tagging an extra section on the end. I didn't want to run too far, especially since the whole route was on concrete or tarmac (however totally flat). I capped it at 7 miles and felt fine. The calf didn't cause me any issues, despite there being a smallish residual knot (even now).

I did intend to run on Wednesday night but my flight home was delayed. I didn't get back home until 10pm.

On Thursday night I ran 9 miles. This time there were a few hills probably around 1000ft, but I had no choice due to lack of time to drive to somewhere flatter!

A change in plan meant that the climate chamber sessions were changed to Friday night, and also tomorrow and Tuesday nights. On Friday I did my usual gym session with no problems.

I'm really busy with work at the moment, so Friday was a rush. I finished work temporarily at 3:30pm and drove to the university where I was met by the three students and one lecturer (I'd better not mention names until I get permission, but they know who they are!). I wasn't sure what to expect and had brought all my MDS kit.

I had a few surprises in store. Firstly I handed over a urine sample taken that morning. I was a little dehydrated, but not too much, though I was told off a little and told to drink more in the day! Next they took a blood sample, which was the first surprise, but I think the scar will heal in time (finger prick)!

I had to fill in a medical questionnaire and disclaimer too. I went into change and gave them my naked body weight too. They told me for the first session I would not be wearing any shirt so they could attach wired temperature sensors to me. I then got a free body shave; well little squares in various places at least, and sensors were attached to my arms, legs, chest and back. The next surprise was that I would be having a rectal core body temperature sensor. It was certainly an unnatural experience [me] inserting I'd guess the final 5" of a wire. I also had a heart rate monitor strap attached too. I was clearly already agitated by all this with a HRM of 72 standing still!

The climate chamber had been heated to 40C with an approx humidity of 50 - 60%. I walked in and my famous last words were "Is this 40C? You know I thought it would be hotter." I did however add "I bet I won't be saying that in 10 minutes though". I'm glad I added that last bit, on reflection!

All of the temperature readings were logged at the start and I was told I would be asked to read from 3 charts in front with numbers from 1-20, 6-18 (I think) and finally "a cold to hot chart". I'll have to check what the first two charts meant specifically, but it was all around how comfortable I was feeling at any given moment.

Two of the students stayed in the chamber with me, slowly baking, whilst the third student and the lecturer sat the other side of the window. The treadmill was set to 8kph and I started to run. This is of course a leisurely pace, especially without a pack, and one that I could maintain for literally hours and hours and hours without effort under normal circumstances. I chatted to them for the first 10 minutes, as they took readings every 5 minutes and asked how I was feeling (from the charts). I chose the numbers which were generally "Very comfortable", "fairly easy", and always "Hot" though!

After 15 minutes I was getting hot, and my 'chart' answers were creeping up the board to "less comfortable" and "less easy". My heart rate climbed from an initial few minutes at 120 to 150, 160, then 168 was the last I remember hearing logged. My core temperature started at 37.4 I think and also started to rise.

From 20 minutes onwards I was feeling fairly uncomfortable, and the easy 8kph pace though not hard in itself, was just cooking me. I asked for the speed to be taken down slightly around 25 mins I think. By 30 minutes I was giving answers of "feeling very uncomfortable" and "quite hard". My arms and legs didn't feel particularly 'hot' though they were bathed in sweat. My head however by this time felt like a balloon, and I had touch of light-headedness. They called the lecturer in once my core temp reached 39.6 and then stopped the session, as that is the safety cut-off. I certainly wasn't about to argue as I was feeling fairly ropey at this point.

Stepping outside the chamber was blissful! Still I was feeling quite hot, so they sat me down and began cooling with a fan and a bucket of water to dip the wrist into, plus some towel down with cold water. It was a good fifteen minutes before I felt fine again. More blood was taken, and also initial estimates could put me at burning through 1.5litres of water an hour at the rate I was drinking, verus weight loss. However, it's too early to tell off one session, so that may change.

It was an interesting experience and I look forward to the next two, in which I may well be wearing my MDS kit and pack. What makes it so difficult is the chamber humidity. The desert will hopefully be less than 10% humidity. When there was 20-30% in the MDS in 2006 over 150 people retired from the race; 61 ended up on IVs, 2 ended up in comas, 1 person was medivac'd to France but survived. So here I am running at 40C in 50-60% humidity, which is way over and above what I can expect the conditions to be like (at least in terms of humidity). If I had been pulled out at 33 minutes on a low humidity then I would have been concerned, but as it stands I am not. There is no way to drop the humidity in the current chamber, though there are plans for a higher-tech chamber with all sorts of capabilities. In the meantime, I am experiencing overheating the likes of which I hope I won't face in the desert. It's all good practice!

Just as valuable was speaking to the lecturer and students afterwards and getting all of the technical knowledge around overheating, and hydration. Also on the way out one of the students pointed out the most useful piece of advice in that I must learn to recognise when I am starting to feel unwell and take appropriate action. That may sound obvious, must when you are fixed on the goal of the finish line I think it is easy to ignore your own well being. As much as I want to run as much of the MDS as possible, I have to know when to slow or even stop and sort myself out. In fact I don't want to even be in that position, so I must really keep on top of my hydration. I'm really grateful for the help from the Uni and students who are geniunely interested in my challenge.

I am toying with the idea of setting my watch to interval mode and on the alarm, say every 5 minutes, take a sip or two or water. This might drive me nuts, but it might also keep me alive. I have also been wondering about a wrist cooler. I realise that these take a quantity of water to activate but this does seem an effective method of lowering the core temperature. I might quiz the students about this tomorrow.

The session finished about 6:15, slightly later than anticipated, so I had to dash off and then drive to Stockport to work until midnight. I had to be up again early and back at Stockport on Saturday morning and worked until 1pm. I got back home and 2pm and went for a run along the canal (short drive away). The idea here was that I would do minimal climbing to easy my calf muscle back to work this week.

I had already clocked up 20 miles this week of a planned 35 miles. However, I decided I would do a little more mileage and also carry more weight instead of the 5kg planned (this was a recovery week in the program). I packed 10kg and did a steady 5.5mph for 5 miles, before turning on my heals and returning at 5.6mph. I can hand on heart say that I got back to the car and barely felt like I had been for a run. I wasn't the least bit out of breath or tired at all, despite the 10kg weight.

I decided that was too easy, so on Sunday I did the three elevens.
11 miles
11 kilos
1100ft of ascent

I ran around Swynnerton old forest, in between Newcastle-under-Lyme and the A51 Stone to Nantwich road. This time I of course ran a little slower, around 5.3mph, but still finished strong. 11kg is the biggest weight I have carried in training so far (discounting day 1 of the disaster in Tenerife in December). I had attached my sleeping bag and bed roll to the backpack for some extra realism.

I enjoyed the run and was glad to finish feeling fine again. I sit now with a very sore spot on my lower back though. The pack hasn't so much rubbed (there is no mark) but I think the bouncing action of the contents (lots of 1.5l water bottles) has bruised my spine. Sadly I can't actually see the area, being where it is on my back. I'll have to ask some random person tomorrow, to see what I've done to it! I don't think I’ll be carrying a pack for a few days though. Hopefully this is just due to the nature of the training pack content, and it won't trouble me 'on the day', but it is something to be aware of. So 41 miles covered, and well.

You know what; I'm feeling inexplicably happy at the moment. I can't quite put my finger on why? Yes I am pleased that my calf injury seems to have gone, and I don't seem to be worse for wear fitness-wise, but it's more than that? Oh well, whatever it is, its welcome!

Hopefully my training will go well this coming week. I am ramping up to full scheduled mileage (74 miles). I may have some disruption because my son's mother has gone to the States on holiday today, so I have my son for the whole of this week and not just the first couple of days like normal. I will just have to fit in my training around his nursery hours. I may have to run at lunch and work late if my workload allows. I am going to try and get in a weekly clinical sports massage to keep the calf and other injuries at bay.

Enjoy your week. :-)

Almost fixed (I hope)

2008-02-17T19:26:00.003Z

If you just check in here weekly, then I have made quite a few blog posts last week you may want to look over. The news of the week was that I had to pull out of the Thames Meander. I felt justified because on the morning of the event I knew the leg was not ready. It was a lovely day and I sure the event would have been fantastic, but it wasn't to be. My uncle very kindly came over to my house on his way back from a wedding and gave me some more treatment on my calf. The bunched fibres are gradually untangling, and are much improved but there is still a stubburn knot that is persisting and I feel tightness from my knee to my toe. My uncle confirmed that I would not have been wise to attempt the race as he treated the leg. It is sore at both ends of the muscle, as well as at this knot, so I did a pretty good job of 'pulling' it. I have been applying some Voltarol over the last few days to ease the soreness.

I did 35k on the bike on Friday, rested the leg on the Saturday after the treatment, but then did 2 hours in the gym today. I did an hour on the cross trainer, then 10 minutes on the rowing machine, followed by 45 minutes (28K)on the bike. None of that is a good replacement for a 54 mile run, but it is the best I can do right now.

I will try a short and slow run on Tuesday, and if that goes ok I will try a little further as the week progresses. On Thursday and Friday I have some sessions in an exercise climate chamber at the local campus of Manchester Met University. I'm looking forward to those; my first chance to sample 40C in full kit. I have a final session the Monday afterwards. My goal is to hopefully run 34-40 miles next week, and then back on schedule (70+) the week after. Right now, I don't know if that will be possible, I can only hope so.

Have a good week.

No Go - Thames Meander

2008-02-15T14:57:00.002Z

The calf is much improved, but it's not right. I'd say it's 80-85%. It needs a few more days (hopefully no more) to get back to normal. Everyone who has seen it this week says to do the event would be too risky.

I woke up this morning, moved around and it is still too tight down the back of the leg, and some of the fibres and still kotted up. It is still tender to touch in a few areas, so there is no way it will improve significantly in 24 hours.

It's heart-breaking because I want to do it so much, but 54 miles is serious mileage for being in perfect condition, let alone injured. I know I am doing the right thing though. I hope to resume running on Tuesday night, maybe Wednesday, albeit a shortish run. If that goes well I can rampt it back up fairly steeply I hope and resume a full 70+ miles the week after. I will target flatter routes to put as little stress on the calf as possible for a week or two. If I do this then I should make the MDS in first class condition, as long as I keep on top of the muscle-tightness.

I did an hour on the bike last night, which made me feel a little better for doing some cardio work at least. I will do more bike word on Saturday and Sunday too.

Wednesday treatment update

2008-02-13T19:13:00.003Z

Just come back from another treatment session. I had half an hour with the sports masseur, targetting two problem areas. Firstly my left Popliteus is acutely painful. I've complained about a 'twanging' at the back of my knee as I run, and this is what is causing it. If you have never had this massaged before, take along something to bite down on. The other area is the top of inside leg calf muscle (Gastrocnemius) which is knotted up beyond belief. His sports masseur was really good and worked the knotted areas. They have released a little, but are still not there. There is almost a visible ridge on my calf it is that knotted. I had 15 minutes on the interrential machine aftter the massage. My uncle saw me afterwards and repeated more of the same targetted massage, then did some chiropractic adjustments on my back too. After all the treatment I has hobbling, and still am now! Neither my uncle or the sports masseur think I will be able to do the Thames Meander. If that muscle were to tighten up further, I could pull it even worse than I have already an risk shredding the already damaged muscle.

No treatment tomorrow, but possibly some on Friday. If I actually need treatment on Friday then I can write off the Thames Meander. To be honest it's looking very unlikely. I haven't run this week and have been told not too. Possibly a swim tomorrow or see how I respond to cycling.

I'm playing the long game and the MDS is the goal here, not the Thames Meander. I'm prepared to throw that away if i'm not 95%+ on Friday.

Also I forgot to mention that I am using a exercise climate chamber two evenings next week, and also one evening the week after. This is courtesy of MMU, Alsager campus. I am working with students in their final year of study, and they needed an athlete to work with. I get to train in 40C and see what the desert heat might feel like. These sessions are not beneficial for acclimitisation, they are too far from the event itself, but they will help me mentally prepare and also try out my hydration strategy and my clothes too. So, I need to be in good condition to use the chamber, another good reason not to do the TM on Saturday.

I have just brought some Voltarol cream; my uncles recommendation. It's anti-inflamatory and apparently better than Ibuleve, which I don't find very good to be honest. I'll put some of that on now and try get this calf on the mend.

I'll update on Friday with my final decision.

Feb to March training plan, plus update

2008-02-13T09:20:00.004Z

Next four weeks plan above.

That first week isn't going to plan so far. My uncle took a look at my calf last night. Doesn't look like there is a tear, which I didn't think there was, but the fibres are knotted up good and proper. I mentioned something was twanging on the back of my knee when I ran. he found that. I'm sorry I can't remember the name of it, but if you were to push your finger into the back of your knee joint in between the two main tendons it's there. I had a half hour session with the clinical sports masseur, then some targeted deep tissue massage from another specialist, 15 minutes on the inferential machine, then my uncle set to work on me. It's was really painful as he worked the back of the knee and also the areas on the calf which are all knotted up. The back of the knee definitely improved and released, but even after all of the treatment the calf still needs more work. "It's not good, but at least we caught it before it got worse" my uncle said. He says as it stands I shouldn't do the Thames Meander, but he says I may be able to make a difference if I have more intensive sessions this week.

I am going back tonight and then again on Friday. Only on Friday will he make a judgement call on if I should do go. I didn't run the scheduled 9 or 10 miles last night, and it's unlikely I will run tonight. I may try a run on Thursday before the last session on Friday just as an indicator for how I am progressing.

This changes how I will run next week. This week was my peak mileage week, 85 miles. If I do manage the Thames Meander I will run higher mileage than the planned recovery week and still attempt my 85 mile week target. I will do a light weekend afterwards though. As you can see, I am still hoping that I will be in good enough shape for the Thames Meander, but if my uncle thinks no, then I won't and just do a normal week (no recovery) next week.

My number's up.

2008-02-10T20:58:00.000Z

The final payment instalment has gone through and the UK names submitted to the MDS organisers. This week I had notification that the race numbers had been released; here.

http://www.darbaroud.com/detail.php?pub=265&langue=en

I am number 857. You'll need that number when the race is on so you can send me messages of support every day throughout the event! The MDS website has a facility that allows you to 'write to a competitor'. That facility becomes live when the event itself is on. I'll post further details when I get them, but usually it is just a direct link from the http://www.marathondessables.com/index_uk.php homepage.

There look to be more entrants than usual. It used to be limited to around 750 but the race numbers appear to go up to at least 890 this year.

I have been featured in two local newspapers this week. Here are the articles. There are few innacuracies in the first one. Firstly, I don't actually work for BT, but I do contract work for them. Second, water is not ration to 1.5L a day in the MDS!!! Next, it was four years ago when I had the poor health check and couldn't run a mile, not two years ago. Finally, my mum still works at the school and has done for over 20 years, not 46! Apart from that it's not bad, and was almost a whole page.

That's the good news out of the way. It's all downhill from here.

This week was my scheduled recovery week. In my last blog post I said how much I thought I needed it. Turns out I would have had little choice in the matter anyway.

I went to visit my uncle, the chiropractor, on Tuesday. He looked me over briefly and said I was in such a state I would need to see his clinical sports massage therapist first. As it turned out, I was two of them before my uncle! My back was locked up as usual, but I didn't realise quite how bad my calf muscles were, until they set to work. They were hard as bullets and working them caused me quite a lot of discomfort. Even after 45 mins of work they were still tight, though better.

My uncle then did some chiropractic adjustments on my back, as well as ankles and feet. He then put me on his interferential machine for 15 minutes. My back felt better afterwards, and the strain on my right ITB had gone, but the calf’s were still sore.

I took off Monday and Tuesday as rest days, but also added Wednesday as a rest day because I thought I needed it.

On Thursday I planned a 10k route. Because I had not run all week, I decided that I would try and run it faster than normal. I probably set off too fast, and because the route starts on a 3/4 mile long hill I think this tightened up my calf muscles again. I stopped and carried out a full stretch routine after 1 mile (as I do in every run), then carried on at a fairly quick pace. I didn't feel right at all. I was getting pain behind the right knee and right calf, and it felt as though something was 'twanging' with every stride; like a tendon snapping over something during the stride cycle. Both calf muscles tightened up further and then both Soleus muscles. The Soleus muscles becoming tighter were really painful. I had to stop and tried to stretch them, but couldn't. They were locked up good and tight. I carried on and then I started to get pins and needles in both feet, to the point of losing feeling almost totally from the shin down. I stopped again, took off my shoes and rubbed some feeling back into them, and also attempted to stretch out. The feeling returned albeit temporarily as I ran on. I made it home, but was unable to stretch my calf and Soleus because of the pain. Something clearly wasn't right. I did some self massage. The right calf responded well, but the left calf was very tender to the touch on the inside of the leg near the top. I thought it was just knotted and got my fingers in and worked it. This was very uncomfortable, but I figured it was doing me good. I finished and then got up to find I just barely hobble! I iced it and then went to bed. I was worried, but the following day it was back to just being tight, no extra pain.

On Friday I saw a local sports massage therapist. I was determined to try and get the calf and Soleus sorted out. I had a 45 minute session, which was agony; virtually the whole session on my calf muscles again. The right calf was much improved afterwards, but the left still very sore.

I did my usual gym session with no problems that day, and decided to run to make up for the extra rest day I had on the Wednesday. I decided to run very slow and steady to see if the fast start the previous day had been to blame. It hadn't. It felt better than the previous day initially, but I still felt the twanging and pain behind the left knee and calf. I stopped a couple of times to stretch it out, but it wasn't really working. That night I worked the left calf and Soleus again, with identical results. The pain afterwards was worse and I was hobbling during the night I noted too, when I got up to use the loo. I did ice it before bed again. In the morning it had subsided back to just being tight. I made a decision that I should not run on the Saturday or today, Sunday. The calf muscle on the inside of the leg, just to the right of the Tibia (near the top), is tender even to the lightest touch.

I can only assume it is a calf strain, doubtless bought on by the amount of hill work I do in every training session. This isn't good news at all, but I can only hope that it is not to severe. An actual tear would take months to heal. I've worn a compression sock all day today to promote healing, and am just going to do some alternate heat/ice therapy when I finish this post, plus some gentle stretching. If possible, I will go and see my uncle again for some advice and probably get some ultrasound done on it too. I am hoping that a few days rest will sort this out, because I can't afford for it to be any worse. At the moment next Saturday's (16th February) event, the 54 mile Thames Meander, is looking in serious jeopardy. I will just have to play this week by ear. I am due to be running on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday; each day about 10 miles. Naturally I am not stupid enough to run these just for the sake of it, if my calf is still not right.

I have a decision to make: If it is just minor, then I could take the next week off with not too much impact to my fitness and pick up where I left off and still finish the last few weeks of full training hopefully in perfect condition. Alternatively I could see how I feel this week and risk the Thames Meander. I have paid for the event (£35), plus all travelling costs (about £60), so If I am fit I want to do it, not least because it is the last chance to run 50 odd miles before the MDS. Doing the event would be a big psychological boost, knowing you can cover 50 miles with a full pack. However, I could just aggravate the injury and put myself out for a lot longer, possibly putting the MDS in peril. Logic says don't to the TM, but at the same time I want to!

Whatever happens I will have to stay off hills for a few weeks, which is difficult as it's all hills near me. My only option would be to drive to a local canal for each run, which I think is the most sensible approach to take. Injury worries this close to the MDS are my worst nightmare. Fingers crossed this goes away in a couple of days. I know at the moment it doesn't feel too serious, but I have read that with calf strains that they can get progressively worse if you try and run through the injury. Most runners will run with a calf strain assuming it is not too bad, which is what I have been doing, but then it becomes serious and can cost 1-4 months in recovery. I will just have to wait and see what each day brings, and take on some professional advice this week.

I need a rest

2008-02-03T20:34:00.000Z

Over 200 miles covered in the last 3 weeks and it's starting to take its toll.

On Tuesday I did a 12 mile trail run, once again armed with my head torch as I ran through local fields, hills and woods. There was around 1200ft of ascent in the route.

On Wednesday morning I had to be up at 4:30 to catch a flight to Belfast where I would travel to Londonderry to work for the next couple of days.

After work I then faced what I dreaded the most; having to run 12 miles on a treadmill. Given the choice I wouldn't run 1 mile on a treadmill, but in a strange city at night with no map I was forced to. The hotel was quite nice, but the gym was poorly equipped. There were three treadmills; two looked older than I did with frayed belts and notices that said "this machine must not exceed 8kph". 8kph? useless. The third machine was more modern but was in use. I had to use one of the old machines for 10 minutes whilst I waited for a girl to finish. I jumped on it and just set it to start; a nice steady pace of 10.5kph, but foing the last couple of k's at 12.5. I can't tell you what mental torture it is looking at the clock knowing that the best part of two hours would be spent in that one spot. Half way through I started to get a tight Illio-tibial-band (ITB) on my right side. I've felt this coming on for a few days now, but it started to get sharper. I thought to myself I'll stop at 18km, but when 18km eventually came I forced myself to stay on longer eventually clocking up 13 miles.

I'd only had one small cup of water, which obviously is not enough for 2 hours running. Also the gym was too warm so I had sweated a lot and had lost a fair bit of salt. I had a few more cups of water and then went back to the lift where there was a tray outside a hotel room, with the remains of someone’s dinner and also a salt pot. Much to the horror or passing guests I pulled off the top, emptied salt into the water and drank it. I felt better though not long afterwards. Me and a colleague then went into the town for an evening meal. We found a Weatherspoon’s pub, and I loaded up on pasta as usual.

On Thursday we finished work a little earlier than expected and took a slightly longer route back to the airport. We stopped off at the Giants Causeway as neither of us had seen it. I wasn't too bothered to be honest, but I was the driver, so I agreed. We arrived and it was literally blowing a gale. A bus takes you down to the causeway and we both got off the bus took a handful of photos and were back on 2 minutes later. I feel obliged to post these photos, despite having nothing to do with running, because I froze half to death taking them!

My flight was delayed because the pilot had to abort his landing, only just making his second attempt. He was going to give up and go back to Manchester. The take-off and first 15 minutes of the flight were pretty scary. It was only a small jet, just 3 seats in each row and only 20 rows so it got blown around all over the place. Thankfully the landing, though blustery, was not as bad. I drove home straight away but didn't arrive until after 9pm so I decided it was too late to run.

So, I did Thursdays run on Friday. I did 11.5 miles with around 1100ft of ascent on the trail. My ITB was aching, and my knees and hips a little sore too. I don't think running on the treadmill the day before had agreed with me.

Due to those work commitments I didn't do my usual two trips to the gym for strength and stability work this week.

The gales and severe weather hit on Friday, but we got off lightly with only a dusting of snow on Saturday morning.

I had a 14 mile run planned, but added an extra mile and did 15. I always carry my full backpack at weekends, and was wrapped up in a waterproof jacket, hat and gloves. This is what I wear for most runs at the moment. I took a couple of photo's during the route. Clear, crisp and cold would best describe the day. I took the opportunity to run with my buff over my mouth, as much to fend off the cold wind as to practice to see what it will be like running with one in the desert. When a sandstorm hits I will be wearing one, so I had better get used to it. Surprisingly it did take me about 5 or 6 miles to adjust. It's not very pleasant at first, so I recommend any other 2008 MDSers having a go to. Better to have trained with one on that to use one for the first time 'in anger' in the desert.

That white circle visible on the horizon in this second photo is the 250ft high Lovell radio telescope at Jodrell Bank.

There was around 1500ft of ascent in the run. I completed at a good pace, considering the full backpack weight; around 5.7mph. However, the extra weight did makes all the bits that ache, ache more! No sooner had I arrived home when a photographer from the local newspaper, The Evening Sentinel, arrived to take my photo for an MDS article that will be featured soon to help boost my sponsorship funds I hope. I looked a mess. I was just back from a run (literally!) and had not shaved for a couple of days. Still, all publicity is good publicity they say!

On Sunday I was forced to do my own route, after contacing the LDWA event I planned to do and told that it was full. So instead I did 20 miles with 1800ft of ascent, again with a full pack as planned. It was harder work today. I felt tired earlier, and was getting ITB pain and knee pain too. I was glad to finish the run, averaging 5.3mph for the route.

71.5 miles covered this week.

I am thankful that next week is my planned recovery week. My mileage was due to half; down to 35, but depending on how I feel I may even scale that back further. I have also booked a appointment to see my uncle, the chiropractor, on Tuesday evening. I know that my pelvis is twisted and rotated again, and that is the cause of the pains. The problem is that the muscles at the side of my spine tighten up so much that they pull my pelvis up and around, stretching all connecting muscles. This is typically why I get ITB pain. Usually I will see one of my uncle’s clinical sports massage therapists first who spend 20 minutes softening up those muscles so that my uncle can then make chiropractic adjustments to bring me back in line. I have not seen my uncle since early December, so I have lasted fairly well this time, despite the increased mileage. Other areas need attention too. I know my Plantar Fascia in both feet, but mainly my left is very tight. I do usually sort this out myself, but I know my uncle will look at it, and usually manipulate both feet and ankles. I must remember to take some leather to bite down on this time! Seriously though, I am so thankful for my uncles expertise. Yes sometimes it hurts, but its good hurt! That good old phrase - pain is just weakness leaving the body comes to mind.

I know that after the week’s lighter miles and treatment that I will be fixed, and better rested and ready for the week after when my training mileage peaks at 85 miles. This is mainly down to the Thames Meander 54 miler a week on Saturday. After that week I have a couple more weeks doing mid 70's miles, then my final taper for a couple of weeks before the big event.

Off to rest and recuperate. Enjoy your week.

That's Lyth 2008

2008-01-27T20:19:00.000Z

This week I was working in Ireland on Monday and Tuesday and so I was forced to use a treadmill at 6:45 on Tuesday morning. I only managed to get 6.5 miles in before I had to go and shower before breakfast and work.

On Wednesday I planned an 11 mile route but ended up doing 12.5 when I found part of my route had been closed (the site of Silverdale Colliery). I'd managed to find a way into the fenced-off site (initially not realising why the fences were there), but getting out was like escaping from Alcatraz. There was an 8ft perimeter fence all the way around, and a spiked fence the other side of it in places. Eventually I squeezed between a fence and down onto an abandoned railway line before getting back up the road. The detour added a further 1.5 miles onto the route which in part made up for only being able to do 6.5 the day before. There was 1200ft of ascent in the route.

On Thursday I did 11.5 miles, mostly trail, also at night; 1100ft of ascent. I am a head-torch veteran now! All the runs in the week I run at my endurance pace which is 9 minute miles. They are slow and steady, but effort is required to maintain the pace because of the climbing.

My gym session was on Friday. That went well, but I will have to miss next weeks due to working on Ireland for much of the week again.

I felt somewhat under the weather on Saturday and so decided to play safe and run a route but without my pack, knowing I would face a tough day on Sunday. I ran 12.5 miles again, but at my endurance pace rather than my slower pack-wearing pace.

I packed my rucksack on Saturday night with 9kg of weight, my heaviest event-weight so far (I have carried more in Tenerife before). I plotted out the route and transferred it onto my PDA, tested GPS function and ensured I was ready to leave the next morning. I got up at 5:30am, ate a porrage breakfast with some PSP22, and took along some PSP22 to top me up on the journey to Kendal in the Lake District to take part in the LDWA event That's Lyth. I did this event last year, as a runner, with only around 4kg of weight and it took me about 6:10. I was carrying an ankle injury and did stop for leisurely breaks at the checkpoints though. So, I wondered this time, if despite the 9kg pack I could beat my time.

I got to Kendal about 7:30, quickly registered and had about 15 minutes spare before the start. The event was oversubscribed as usual, and they had sent back some postal bookings I was told. There looked to be a good mix of runners and walkers in the 300-strong field, but I don't know the exact split. Both groups set off together at 8am.

Below is the route. The hill profile and my speed over the course are also shown, along with the 3 Checkpoint (CP) locations marked.

We set off and us runners went off ahead, me keeping my usual conservative pace at the start and letting most of the field stream ahead. 3/4 in we have to climb about 100 stone steps and then head up quite a steep path for the next mile. You rapidly heat up and you see lots of people taking off a layer or two of clothes half way up. I have made a decision to wear my medium-weight waterproof jacket zipped up for every single training run and event now, having done so for the last few weeks anyway. This inevitably means I get hot and uncomfortable, but I'd better get used to that feeling!

A short downhill follows then a long steady climb to just past the 3 mile point follows. I distinctly remember walking up this section that last, but I ran it this time. There is a pleasant descent on a good path for the next couple of miles afterwards followed by a climb up to the first checkpoint. This shot shows part of the route up to CP1. The weather was as shown for the whole day. No rain, not too cold, and only a little blustery on the hilltops.

I got to the first checkpoint with no intention of stopping. I just needed to top up my water bottle. I wasn't very happy when I found that I had to put disposable overshoes on to go into the building, just to fill up some water. A few jugs outside would be a good idea in future. So a couple of needless minutes wasted doing that. I decided to use my electrolyte at this point due to there only being three checkpoints in total.

I exited CP1 and headed 1/2 mile downhill taking this photo.

Next was the toughest climb of the day up to Whitbarrow scar (approx 2.5 miles). I'd love to tell you I ran the lot, but I walked about a good 1/2 mile section as the speed profile shows. The wind was very blustery here, as I remembered it was last year. People stopped and added their shedded layers back on in some cases. There is a small level section before the summit ascent proper and the cairn at the top from where I took this photo looking back, and the following one looking South.

The first part of the descent is fairly easy but then turns narrow and steep. The weather this year was dry which made it easier than last year. It was very slippy then and you had to be very cautious. Even so you can see my pace doesn't improve on the descent, and I was descending faster than most people around me. There is then a very steady ascent for about 2 miles followed by a welcome descent through woodland and good paths into Witherslack and checkpoint 2. This time outdoor shoes were allowed and I was in and out very fast after diluting my electrolyte drink with more water. I politely refused the offer of hot dogs at this checkpoint. As you may remember I banned myself from food at checkpoints for about the last 6 months now, eating only my MDS snacks; 100g salted cashew nuts which I graze on during the day. There is a fairly short but unpleasant hill not far after CP2 which leads onto a bridleway. I walked this short section and resumed my pace for the less steep section. What then follows is a descent into a flat-plain. The next 2 miles are absolutely dead flat as the elevation shows on the map. You can see how disciplined I am with my steady pacing in the speed profile. I think the brief dip in the speed profile was a loo break! I passed a guy who I had met on an event a few weeks ago, and he kept pace with me for a few minutes. He said that he found this section very demoralising because it is so flat. I told him that I had better get used to it, as I would be seeing plenty of similar lake beds or salt plains in Morocco.

In this terrain I think it's good to zone-out and not pay too much attention, just let the miles wash over you. At mile 18 the next ascent begins, but CP3 greets you almost straight away. Once again I filled up my water and finished off the rest of my nuts, knowing that the final 2 mile climb to Scout Scar is quite draining. I did a mixture of running and walking on the ascent as the speed profile shows. I wanted to ensure I saved enough energy to do the last couple of miles descent justice.

I took this photo from near the top looking back down into the valley from where I had come. You can see the flat-plain below and I had come from the base of that hill (it's actually the corner of Whitbarrow) on the right hand side of the picture.

I hit the summit and despite some tiredness now setting in I picked up the pace, winding it up even more the closer I got to the finish. The last couple of miles are mostly road, back down into Kendal and back to the start/finish. I was certainly more tired that the last event, The Hebden, which was an all over slower event due to poor terrain and more ascent. This route was longer though at 23.5 miles and had 3000ft of ascent overall. The main reason that I was more tired was that I ran it all, except the very steep sections. I could tell early on that I was going to easily beat last years dawdling time of 6:10. I finished in 4:52, almost 1 hour and 20 minutes faster, with a lot more weight!

I was very happy with my performance. It is the first time I have broken into the hour-4 territory, which is no mean feat for me when I am carrying such a heavy backpack.

Thanks to the organisers and volunteers of the event; superbly organised and friendly staff all day long. I had a bowl of soup and a roll, and also a jammy doughnut to replenish my sugar. I had brought along some SIS Rego which I washed it all down with before setting off home.

I have noticed that since I had got back from Tenerife my fitness has really improved. I don't know if this is solely down all the climbing and training at altitude there, or just because I am in 70-mile territory every week now. Whatever it is, it is very welcome and I am feeling well prepared for the MDS.

Two years ago I just wanted to finish the MDS. I still do, and that is my primary goal. However, now I have improved my fitness beyond recognition I am hoping I might be able to drag myself out of the back 200 finishers. This is probably a pretty tall order given the quality of the endurance athletes taking part from all over the world, but I can only try. This is slightly dangerous because it is setting the bar higher. I would hate to fail because I pushed myself beyond my ability in the hope of gaining a few places. I can't ruin two years training over that, so the goal to just finish must stay in focus.

I have taken a couple of other decisions. I will be using my New Balance 1100MDS trainers for the event, along with the Asics Kayano socks. I have used both for 2 years, and we know each other well.

I have chopped and changed my mind on this next one, numerous times, but I am not going to use walking poles. I have not used them for as long as I can remember. I think I have grown out of them. Early in my training I used them to supplement my lack of ability, and now I just don't want the hassle of carrying them around. They certainly have their place, and I know that they would come in really handy on ascents in the MDS (I will cast envious eyes at people as they stride past me on hills in the desert, I just know it!). Beyond that I would never used them, certainly not on flat plains. They would just be half a kilo of dead weight hanging off my backpack. I don't believe the MDS has enough meaningful climbs to make their use of any worth. If I was doing the UTMB in France then fair enough, but I'm not.

Another week over and more of the same next week. I have not yet entered the event I want to do next week, so I will have to phone and see if there are places left. If not I will do my own 22 or 24 mile run locally.

9 weeks to the start of the MDS.

Bigfoot

2008-01-20T19:00:00.000Z

Back to hard work this week after last weeks light mileage, and weekend distraction event at Cannock.

On Tuesday I did a 10.5 mile trail run with 1000ft of ascent. Instead of going to the Gym on Tuesday I put it back to Wednesday as I was due to work away from home and stay in a hotel.

So on Wednesday got up at the crack of dawn and did another 10.5 miles run, again with 1000ft if ascent. In the afternoon I set off for Newcastle-upon-Tyne and was 150 miles up the motorway (about 5:30pm at this point) when I got a call to say the following days meeting was cancelled. Needless to say I wasn't amused. I just turned the car around and drove back home getting back at 8pm, so no gym session.

On Thursday I did yet another 10.5 mile run, this time with 1300ft of ascent and working in some intervals in the last 5 miles. 10 miles is too far for an interval session, but just the last 5 miles is workable but still very tiring.

I felt strong on each of the runs and 10 miles doesn't really register as being a long run at all. I don't carry any water on these runs either, as it's not quite far enough and I'm not dehydrating as much, running in the cool of the night (not that I dehydrate much faster in the day in winter!).

On Friday I did my usual gym session, which went well as usual.

On Saturday I planned a 15 mile run, incorporating a local forest, then over fields, some greens lanes and finally a 4 mile section of road. The route had 1500ft of ascent. I carried at 8kg pack, including the front pack loaded with a half full 1.5l bottle of mineral water (for weight), plus an 800ml bottle of electrolyte. I've found that as long as I extend the straw on the Raidlight bottle it is comfortable to carry this in the side netting of the front pack. It is held securely in place because it rests against the bottom of the 1.5l mineral water bottle that is secured horizontally in the Raidlight front pack. This has worked so well, I might well ditch the shoulder strap holster for the bottle.

The first 1.5 miles of the route are on the road leading up to Swynnerton old forest. The path through the forest was muddy because of all the rain, coupled with the ascent in the first few miles meant that I only averaged 5.1mph. After mile 6 the rest of the routes ascents are less severe and I clawed back the time. The final few miles I planned on road deliberately to make my joints hurt, to simulate the hard rock and dried lakes I will face on the MDS. I am working more roads into these longer runs over the next few weeks, now I have build up a lot of ankle stability on the trails. I was surprised at just how strong I felt with the 8kg pack on, and pulled the average right back to 5.7mph for the distance (2:39). I was very happy with the time when I considered the elevation, terrain and stile-hopping involved.

On Sunday I repeated the route exactly but added some extended sections to include at extra 5 miles and more ascent (2000ft total). To make both days just that little bot harder, and more realistic I wore a medium weight waterproof jacket all the way round. I sweated buckets, and even got a rash under one arm, but anything to make the runs more torturous!

I don't think I was completely refuelled from the previous days effort but I still felt good. I ran the first 5 miles faster; a little too fast I think because my pace suffered later on. I used 1 litre of water during the course and 100g of salted cashews, but by the end was fairly tired. My average speed was slower at just over 5mph but I was still pleased with that.

66.5 miles covered with lots of ascent and tough terrain.

The other change I made at the beginning of the week was to move up to a larger size training shoe; the same size that I will use in the MDS to ensure a little more room for growth in the (almost inevitable) event of my feet swelling. They are only 1/2 size larger than I normally wear, but my normal size are probably 1/4 size too large anyway. Also, because I wear orthotics this increases the size of the shoe I must buy. So at the MDS, if I find that by day 4 or 5 my feet have swelled beyond the 1/2 size extra I could take out my orthotics for more room. Now, this would not be ideal and would certainly cause me some aches and pains, but I could suffer it for a day or two if necessary. I don't like the idea of taking shoes one or two sizes too big because at the beginning of the race this would cause me more problems that it would solve later in the week. The last thing I want are my feet sliding around a pair of shoes that are much too large. Blisters due to heat, and wear and tear from the distances are fair enough, but blisters caused by your own shoes being too big are your own silly fault!

I've got a busy few weeks with work coming up with some trips over to Northern Ireland. I may end up having to run on hotel gym treadmills, which I am not looking forward too. 3 miles on a treadmill is like torture to me, but 10 or 11?!

I'm off to the Lake District on Sunday morning for That's Lyth. I did this event last year in about 6:10. I probably won't make much of a dent in the time because I will be carrying 9kg this time, versus the 4kg or so I carried last time. However last time I did stop for a few tea breaks at checkpoints (I breeze straight through these days), so you never know!

Enjoy your week.

Training plan 2008 - January to February

2008-01-15T20:47:00.000Z

Above is my next 4-weeks training plan. My mileage is just building steadily now, only around 5% per week as I don't want to risk injury by going crazy so close to the MDS.

Two major events this month; That's Lyth (44 miles) and Rombald's Stride (22 miles). Both are fairly hilly with a few thousand feet of ascent in each, over some harsh moors in parts. Three solid distance runs in the week now, around 10-12 miles each day, and still mainting my two gym sessions, and a run of between 15 and 22 miles on Saturdays and Sundays. Week 4 will be my usual recovery week. I have halved the mileage in order to recover for the start of the following week of training where I will peak my training mileage at 85 miles as it includes the Thames Meander.

Cannock Chase Trig II

2008-01-13T19:40:00.001Z

More of that in a minute, first the rest of the week.

It's been a welcome recovery/consolidation week, so effectively half-mileage. Time for my body to strengthen after the last three weeks of effort.

On Tuesday I did a 6k run on the treadmill at a quick pace. Starting at 12.5kph and gradually building up to 14kph for the last few minutes. I guess this is around 7:30 minute miles or thereabouts. Following that I did a strength and stability session, which incorporates most of the major muscle groups strength-wise, and then ankle strength and core stability exercises too.

On Wednesday I did a 6.5 mile trail route, in the dark, around Apedale. My head torch and I are practically surgically attached these days. All good practice for the desert night running I guess.

On Thursday I did a little less, 5.5 miles, balancing out to the desired 12 miles for those two days. I have run these at a very steady pace, about 9 minute miles, and by the time you factor in the stretch session I do after the first mile, the whole session takes about an hour.

Friday was my usual gym session with Clive; more strength and stability, no problems there.

On Saturday, unusually for me, I did an 8 mile road run. My parents were babysitting my son, so I ran from their house and being late I decided to stick to the well lit road instead of tackling unfamiliar dark trails, in case I slipped and injured myself. Already I am starting to be a little cautious about the routes I choose. I cannot think of anything worse than injuring myself so close to the MDS! It started out as a nice 9mm endurance pace but four miles in I spotted another jogger about 1/2 mile ahead. Well, I think we've all been there, a little competitive spirit perks up and I push the hammer a little. It's not really a fair race, since only one of you knows they are competing! Of course I caught him up and passed him, holding the increased pace (about 7:30mm) for the next 2 miles to be sure he didn't catch me back up! I eased off in the last couple of miles, back down to the 9mm pace and then backed off even further in the last half mile, so by the time I finished I wasn't at all out of breath. It's funny now I think back two years. Eight miles isn't even a fun-run for me now, but it was further than I had ever run in my life two years ago.

So, Cannock Chase Trig race; I did the same race last year with disastrous results. I had done the New York marathon, still injured with ITB and then taken the next two months off to recover, literally running a few times in 8 weeks. I think I assume my fitness would just still be there; I know better now! Add to that my expectation of electrolyte and many drinks stations (still in NY marathon mode!); there was just a single drinks station visited on 5, then 10 miles serving water only! I didn't carry any drink bottle or camelback, hadn't eaten a decent enough breakfast and was probably dehydrated to start the race. After just 5 miles I was struggling. After 7 miles I was on the floor with the worst cramp I had ever had. I hobbled when I could, and walked when I couldn't, around the remainder of the course in a pitiful 3:07. I came 167 out of 177, oh the shame!

So today was all about redemption.

Bad news out of the way first, I lost one of my PDA's. I wasn't carrying a front-pack where I usually tether it in a Aquapac. Instead I had just a backpack containing only electrolyte (total weight not much more than 2kg). As a result I put the PDA in my waterproof coat pocket, obviously forgot to zip it up and lost it. I have left my details in case it gets handed in, I doubt it though. I do have another PDA spare, so it's not the end of the world.

Here is the route in Memory Map first.

An my actual route from Google Earth. Slight variances, but overall more or less the same.

Anyway, bad news aside, luckily I had run the course 2 weeks ago so I could remember it even without my PDA and hence a map. I'm not sure how many runners took part. I'm guessing about 160. I will alter this post when I find the actual results. Two weeks ago I ran it half an hour faster in 2:37. I didn't push too much though. Today I wanted to finish in under 2:30, average 10 minute miles. My GPS logged the route at 15.5 miles with 1500ft of ascent, so, not a huge amount of climbing but there are some draining inclines and one really quite steep hill at the half way point (the climb to 'Castle Ring'). I took up my customary position right at the back of the field and we set off at 11am. You can take any route to the 7 trig points, but there is a fairly clear route to take. A few people grab a few hundred metres with the odd forest-shortcut, but there isn't much to be gained. The route starts with a long slow climb up to the first Trig point at 1.75 miles. By this stage I had crept ahead of most of the backmarkers, and the field was already quite well strung out.

At this point, after all of the ascent in the first few miles I was just about making my 10 minute mile average. Next, a nice mile long steady downhill leads into checkpoint 2 (feeding station) at 5 miles. I had perhaps overtaken a couple more of people but not many. Remember I am not exactly at the front of the field here. I am just bimbling along near the back! After that CP comes the toughest section, which is first a long steady climb for 1.5 miles, then a killer climb (250ft gain in just over half a mile) to up 'Castle Ring'. Half way up the hill I made a decision to fast-walk the rest. Otherwise I was just going through the motion of running, but not really making a lot of ground. Walking was a good move; as I didn't lose any ground whatsoever on the people in front of behind. They got to the top pretty knackered, and I was well recovered. The trig point was at the top. We then turn 180 and get to run back down the same hill; fantastic! I had learned a lesson two weeks ago that running down as fast as I could possibly go was a bad idea. It actually tired me out quite a lot and I suffered with my pace later in the route. So, this time I strode out, but sensibly so, holding back a little.

There was then another gradual climb to the next trig on which I began to reel a few more runners in. The Castle-Ring climb really takes it out of you, and you can see that their pace had slowed dramatically. After the next Trig at 8.75 miles, you turn for the return leg, almost following the same route home. Just the last couple of miles are different. We had been given a SIS Go gel when we registered, and I took this just before the feeding station, knowing that there was a 1.5mile steady climb ahead. I made it up feeling pretty good and knowing only 3.5 miles remained checked my average speed. I was at 6.25mph. My target was 6mph, but since I was already ahead of that and feeling fine I stretched out a little to try and make 6.5mph average. The last few miles are more or less flat, except a nice steady downhill in the last mile. I reeled in a couple more people as I tried to pull the average speed up. I managed to do so, finishing 15.56 miles in 2:23. That is a 6.5 miles an hour, averaging 9:13 minute miles.

I was very happy with that. Never was going to be a problem beating a pathetic 3:07, but I also beat my time two weeks ago by 15 minutes. I have no idea what position I finished yet, but don't expect anything special. The winners will have been at home by then (they did 1:33 last year!). I would imagine that I will be my usual 2/3 of the way down the field. EDIT: results in, a much better placing that last year. Time 2:23:16. Position 103 out of 158. Not bad at all.

Although I had pushed in the last few miles, I wasn't that tired and recovered very quickly. No soreness or stiffness, and I don't expect any from just 15 miles these days.

I think I can say I redeemed myself today and get back on with my proper training next week. Only 40 miles covered in this recovery week. So, it’s back to the grindstone on Tuesday. I'll post my next 4 weeks training plan early next week.

I may well be doing some Sand Dunes training near Liverpool next weekend, so I'll let you know how that goes.

Have a good week.

Note to self: 320 miles on current pair of shoes.

The Hebden

2008-01-06T22:28:00.001Z

I got a terrible nights sleep on Friday night. It's psychological thing. I know I have an event and I have to be up very early (5:30am), so I struggle to drop off. Any other time and I drop off no problems. This was worse than usual. I dropped off after 2am, didn't sleep well but was woken by the alarm at 5:30. I had a porrage breakfast with bananas, and put all my pre-prepared gear in the car. I had packed just over 8kg in my rucksack. I drove to Mytholmroyd, just outside Hebden Bridge and parked in the very busy car park. I had only registered for the event the night before and it was wise I did, because they had overbooked and were actually turning people away who had turned up! I had arrived in plenty of time ensuring a stress free 45 mins before the race (lesson learned from previous events!). Rather than take it back to the car, I crammed a jumper I was wearing into my pack, so the pack will have been around 8.5kg. Just before the start a previous MDS finisher, Alan, recognised me and introduced me to another MDS vet James. I chatted to them as we all wandered outside. By the time I got out it appeared everyone was already off, and there were 300 people in front of me, a great deal of which were walkers.

The actual route is shown below, along with the hill profile, and my speed profile.

I had researched this route well. I knew where all the hills were, long many miles they lasted, and so basically knew when to walk or run and how quickly. I had even watched the route through on a 3D simulation in memory map, so I had good visual picture of the route in my mind. I knew that the first mile was more of less the only flat that there would be all day so I could have a good run at it. However, not knowing the actual terrain I had made an error. Firstly all 300 people had to filter down single file in two or three places to pass barriers to prevent bicycles through. All the runners had dashed off from the front and were well on their way. I just had to stand still and patiently wait my turn. Once over the bridge the mile long path was narrow and with walkers, many using sticks, it was hard to pass. I didn't make much ground when the flat was over and we turned and headed sharply up hill. The path was just as narrow, but muddy and slippy. Being quite steep anyway, I didn't overtake I just walked steadily up in single file like everyone else. All of this lost me quite a lot of time, and it wasn't until the path widened at the top of the hill that I could start to run and move past most of the walkers.

The paths and terrain were more or less what I expected, fairly muddy (very muddy in places) and slippy. A lot of the downhill sections were very slippy, littered with stones, so not a lot of time could be regained from that lost on the slow ascent. I could tell this was going to be a slow event already. The first checkpoint I simply gave in my number, and carried on (I didn't pause at any CP for more than 30 secs all day). I didn't need any water and I wasn't having any of the food. That CP was almost at the top of the second climb. It was followed by a welcome, but picky descent and a fairly level, but gently undulating section along a riverbank. I was getting stomach pain from the full 1.5l bottle in my front pack. I found that one of the clips was not fastened, securing it to my side. I fastened it and assumed that would resolve the issue. We crossed the river and doubled back on our bearing climbing steadily up the CP2 at slack. At this CP I filled my water and added my only electrolyte for the day. Admittedly I did have two jelly babies and a chunk of chocolate at this CP; they looked so good. Apart from that I had no other food at CPs.

To be honest I can't recall specifically where I took this photo, but you get the idea of the countryside. This was a nice path I had just come up I think.

I had not taken any photos early on in the route as it was wet and miserable, but thankfully cleared up and stayed dry for the rest of the day.

After CP2 there was another smaller climb and then a descent I had seen on the 3D run through. It looks like a good mile of steady descent, and opportunity to pick up the pace. It didn't really work out thought because the path was very narrow and fairly steep on one side, so you had to watch your footing. It got better towards the end though. I breezed through CP3 without stopping, still having plenty of water.

I knew that after CP3 there was the longest climb of the day ahead, roughly 3 miles long and gaining about 900ft in the process.

I took this shot just after CP3, looking back.

The long climb was up a reasonably good path for 90% of the way, only deteriorating in the last 1/4 mile as it headed onto moorland. I took this shot about half way up the climb looking across to the Stoodley Pike Monument, which our route passed by about 1/4 mile to its left side.

At the top the ground almost levelled out for a half mile (very gradual incline) on the open moorland, before a steady descent. Navigation was very tricky and I was using GPS. I would imagine quite a few people struggled on that section. Eventually I located the path that headed sharply down into woodland and then along a nice runnable path through to CP4. I was running on my own with no one in sight for quite a while now. All of the fast people were well ahead, and I had overtaken all of the walkers and passed some runners too. Just after CP4 there was another long climb. My stomach pain was getting worse and I realised why. The 1.5l mineral water bottle that I had across my front pack (I usually attach a smart tube and drink, but today I was just using it to weight the pack down) was full. I usually run with it half empty, with 750ml in the drink bottle on my shoulder strap. I emptied out 750ml and immediately this took away the pain. Important lesson learned for me there. Do not run with a full water bottle across the abdomen, it hurts!

Looking back to the moorland section where I had just descended from.

The path up the CP5 was in woodland and very muddy. I had long ago given up trying to walk around mud and puddles and just waded through the middle now. My feet were soaked through and rubbing in a few places, but nothing serious. I started to see a few runners ahead on the ascent and caught and passed a couple. I chatted to one chap and stayed with him to the CP. Once again I just passed straight through and said my goodbyes. I knew that I was now almost at the top of the final major climb. I was feeling very fresh and not tired at all. This was mainly down to me walking more than normal because of the steep climbs and weighty pack. I had also been topping up my calories with salted cashew nuts and staying well hydrated. I had topped up my water, diluting further what was left of the electrolyte.

I decided that I would really pick up the pace and try and get to the finish with 6 hours. If you look back at my speed profile you will see that from 17-22 miles is the fastest I ran all day. I really went quickly heading down the hills rapidly and overtaking a lot of tired runners in the process. I think I got past about 15 people in the last few miles. CP6 was just a guy in a car ticking off your number. I assume he was there to ensure no one short-cutted to the finish when I look back at the map now. The final 1.5 mile after that was again all downhill and I made good time. I came back into the town and caught up another 5 people just before the end. However, I stopped just behind the last guy deliberately and said "Nearly there!". He said "You are not going to overtake me after all that way are you?". "Of course not I said, I wouldn't be so cruel!". I wouldn't have either; I wouldn't have liked it happening to me! We all finished at the same time: 5 hours and 50 minutes. 22 miles and 4600ft of ascent [I did the event again in 2009 in exactly 5 hours, carrying a cartilage tear in my knee, so I'm clearly capable of a better time when fully fit]. I only managed a 3.7mph average but it was good training with all the hills and mud, which I equate to sand dunes! I came in 77 out of 207 starters, but some were walkers remember. It's not easy to tell from the results list because not all runners have "runner" next to their name. I know for a fact that virtually all the 15 people listed just after me (in the results list) were running but just 4 are listed as runners! In fact there are only 6 "runners" shown after my position. I think in reality this was more like 30! I guess it makes your "walking" time look impressive, sneaky beggars!

The catering at the checkpoints looked to have been excellent, even though I didn't have any. However, there was a bit of a delay with the meals at the end as they didn't have enough oven space to cook all the jacket potatoes! Oops. Still I enjoyed it when it arrived, and the apple crumble afterwards was superb. Well done organisers and helpers!

I set off home about 40 mins after finishing and arrived home just before 4pm. I had really enjoyed the event. I was expecting the hills and mud, so it held very few surprises; just the slow start and picky descents. I had a lot left in the tank at the end and it was the first time on an LDWA event where 20 odd miles just seemed normal now. Because I am training up to that distance every single weekend now, my body expects it I guess. I was pleased at how it went and knew I would be able to do the following days' planned 12 mile without issue.

Sunday however, didn't go entirely to plan. After taking my son out in the morning I turned up at my parents’ house unannounced just before 2pm expecting free babysitting for a few hours. No one was home and I didn't like to call them, so I just sat and waited inside. My mother arrived at 4pm which is when I was able to set off. I had planned a route which took me into Swynnerton old forest for 5 miles. This time of year it is getting dark by 4pm. I knew this and my mother thought I was nuts. How was I going to see where I was going? I'll be fine I said.

I took this photo just before going into the forest, so you can see how dark it was already. If you click on it and look closely you can just about make out a path heading into the trees. Sorry it's so blurry, but I couldn't hold it still enough for the slower shutter speed I guess!

My mother was of course right. The carrot-fairy had not in fact bestowed me with the gift of owl-like night vision, so a mile or so into the wood it was pitch black and I couldn't see much at all. I had to use peripheral vision just to be able to make out a path. I could not see obstacles, mud, water or anything else. This slowed me but I did manage to run. I had run this path about 10 times in the past, so I knew which paths to take when I reached a crossroads, but even I second-guessed myself a few times. After 5 miles I emerged from the wood onto the road. I had another 1/2 mile of wood which I was not concerned about, but afterwards were two 1/2 mile sections of very fast and busy road. I didn't have my reflective gear with me (I wear this in the week as I travel very short distances on road to reach trails). I decided it would be too dangerous to take the planned route and so started to head back along the dark country road towards the main road. I crossed over when cars came as I was wearing black, head to toe, and the pack only has small reflectors. Oh, I forgot to say I was wearing the same weight pack from the previous day. I had however not packed any food or electrolyte.

I got back to the lit main road and ran along the footpath. I had slowed for obstacles, but not had to walk (other than to skirt bogs and mud) so far but I was already nearing empty in fuel. My tummy was rumbling and I wasn't sure how far I had travelled exactly. I now had to decide whether to head home and probably only cover 7 or 8 miles, or make up a route on the fly sticking to the well lit footpaths and roads. Despite passing within 1/2 a mile of my parents’ house I knew I would be going out for longer. I had planned 12, so I would have to try and guess a route to take me to that. I knew that would mean that I would run out of energy and likely hit the wall. I had enough plain water to keep me going, but nothing of any calorific value. I headed down towards Trentham Gardens and then along the A34 into Newcastle-under-Lyme. I tried to use grass beside the footpath where available, but mostly it was tarmac, so hard underfoot with trail shoes on. I went into Lyme Valley, a park which runs parallel to the A34 into Newcastle. This meant grassy paths for a mile or so, but I did slip and hit the ground quite hard on an unlit section. I decided no damage done, and picked myself up and carried on.

It had been raining for the last few miles and getting heavier. I hadn't paid it much attention until my arms felt cold and wet. I had paired up my one remaining Windstopper glove (after the loss of the other in Tenerife) with another older model Windstopper gloves (whose twin I had lost a few months earlier). These as I know are not waterproof and were once again wet through, just as happened in Tenerife. This time however, I was prepared. I stopped under the shelter of a Homebase store in Newcastle and took off my waterproof jacket. It is no longer waterproof I now know as I was wet inside. I changed my gloves for my new Super-warm and waterproof Gore-Tex ones and put on my extra fleece I was carrying to warm back up. I phoned my mother and asked her to put me some dinner on, and have some sugar ready for me! I had hit empty and was feeling pretty rough as my body was switching over to burn off fat instead of sugar.

I put my hat back on, and my (not very) waterproof hood up and headed up the hill for the last 2 miles home. I still ran 95% of the route, despite feeling pretty terrible. I got back and my Mum was waiting by the door with a sugared-tea and a chocolate mini-roll, plus the added bonus of a waiting hot bath. I wolfed down the food and drink and had a bath. I was still feeling terrible though. I had a big Sunday roast meal, then some carrot-cake (still I can't say my night vision has improved in the last few hours) but if anything felt worse. I worked out the distance on Memory Map. I had done just over 14 miles in just under 3 hours. OK, no record time, but the same weight pack as yeserday, 1400ft of ascent and in the dark and rain. I had only drunk about 1 litre of plain water, so I must have been more dehydrated than I thought. I took on more liquid, salt and sugar and had a lie down for half an hour. My electrolyte balance restored and my head cleared. I headed home and put my fast asleep son to bed. I'm straight off to bed myself now too.

63 miles this week and plenty of tough miles amongst them. It's scaled back mileage for a recovery week next week, which I am looking forward to!

Have a good week!

Since I got home

2008-01-04T10:36:00.001Z

I got home from Tenerife on Christmas Eve. I rearranged a few runs to different days over the next week or so. I did 8.5 miles on Christmas Day. I ran about 9am, and it was still very foggy running over the fields. It was an enjoyable run; I met a few other walkers out and about so I guess I'm not the only one who minds going out on Christmas Day. The following day I did 9 miles. It goes without saying that all my routes are on trails with just the bare minimum of road used to get me to the trail. ON the Thursday I did just 4 miles, the distance I intended to do on Christmas day. I was a little fatigued, so I figured 4 miles would just be a nice easy distance to keep me ticking over.

I got back to the gym on the Friday and did my usual strength and stability session with Clive. On Saturday I decided to re-run the route of the Cannock Chase Trig point race that I had such a disastrous time with back in January 2007. The race is coming up again next weekend and I might take part. However, in case it doesn't sit well with my training (it is supposed to be a recovery week), I repeated it on my own. I had a small problem when I arrived and my PDA decided to lose the route, so I had to recall parts of it from memory and stop to study a map occasionally. This will have slowed me down a little, but overall I remembered the route quite well. Last year I ran out of water and hadn't had enough breakfast. I got the most terrible cramps even before the half way stage of this 15 mile fell run(it's barely a fell route really, no mountains! It has around 1600ft of ascent). I literally was on the floor rolling around in agony, never had cramps like that before. I managed to stagger and walk around the rest of the course in an abysmal 3:07. I'm pleased to say I had no such problems this time. I didn't push myself too hard, and despite the few navigational uncertainties did it over half an hour faster. The course has quite a few long draining climbs and one 1/4 mile very steep climb indeed.

I was happy enough with my performance, averaging about 10 min miles over the course and terrain. I only carried a fairly light backpack, no more than a couple of kilos.

On Sunday morning my heart rate was a few beats elevated, a sign that I have no recovered from the previous weeks efforts. I did pack my rucksack and was going to do another 15 miles, but on the way over to my parents came across my mother who had been in a road traffic accident. Despite having a whacking big bruise to the head she was thankfully ok. Stopping and sorting out the car lost over an hour, and I decided that this was another sign to tell me to have the day off. This proved to be a good move I think, as I am probably still recovering from Tenerife (and possibly the Round Rotherham 50 the week before that).

Monday is my scheduled day off, and on Tuesday and Wednesday I did 8.5 mile routes, and Thursday I did 10. I actually felt stronger as the week progressed and performed best on the 10 mile route. I think the extra recovery day really helped me, and understand more how important listening to your body is to training. Now, every run in the week is at night, so I am wrapped up in 3 layers including a waterproof jacket, but also gloves and hat. I also wear my head torch because I run over fields and through woods too. It has been bitingly cold with a minus temperature wind-chill and on the top of hills I still felt the chill on Wednesday. All of these runs have a minimum of 1000ft of ascent, and this will be my staple diet during the run up to the MDS. I will be doing three runs of 8-12 miles Tues - Thurs and my longer runs of 15 - 25 miles on Saturday and Sunday. No less than 60 miles each week (apart from recovery weeks), and up to 85 miles for my 'peak week' before a gradual taper for the MDS.

I'm off to the Gym again today, and then I will prepare my kit and route for tomorrows LDWA event: The Hebden, which looks tough. There is 4500ft of ascent and the elevation profile looks like a rollercoaster; lots of steep up and down with practically no flat running. It is about 22 miles, so I will still likely do another 12 miles on Sunday to cap the week off.

2007 was a success for me. I did get a few injuries, but none as serious as in 2006. I achieved all of my milestones, most importantly completing the Round Rotherham 50. If I can complete the Thames Meander 54 in February then I can go to the MDS with confidence of tackling the 'long day' on day 4/5. I have just eight weeks of full training remaining. I need to train hard but stay injury free, so I will adapt my schedule as I think necessary. It's now time to gather together any MDS kit I don't yet have and plan the finer details. Next week I am going to approach local press, to try and get some publicity for my challenge to raise money for Blackfriars Special School.

I will post up on Sunday evening, and let you know how I got on with The Hebden. Have a good weekend.

Tenerife Day 6: Facing down the demon

2008-01-02T15:45:00.000Z

I lounged in bed until almost 10am, savouring the day of rest. I eventually got up and had some Weetabix and a cup of tea, a nice change from the porrage oats, banana chips and dried milk powder, washed down with PSP22. I sat in front of the satellite TV watching something utterly unmemorable on BBC1 waiting for a call from my sister. This would be my call for the greatest challenge of the week, Christmas shopping. However I got a text message "sorry, I have to work today, I can meet you after 5pm".

Sure, I could have gone shopping on my own, but I was buying something for my sister, amongst others, so it seemed a little pointless. Besides, shopping isn't my favourite past time. I'd much rather be out training than............I wonder? I wondered for about 30 seconds, then loaded up my pack, got dressed into my running clothes (they now smelled well past their sell-by date) and got in the car.

I drove up to Vilaflor (Spain's highest located village), a really tedious drive of countless hairpin bends ascending up to 1400M. Driving up to Vilaflor I could see a lot of low cloud. I got the shudders after my nightmare day in the cloud, and also it had spooked me a couple of days later and made me descend. I'd obviously developed a fear of cloud! How stupid I thought, but it didn't seem so silly when I recalled the horror a few days earlier. I had to go out and train in this today and face this one down, or be scared of clouds on future events! I parked in a lay-by by a dirt road. The dirt road was closed by a barrier. I believe the road is undergoing major work to make it more accessible to tourists. As it stood I would have to continue on foot to start my intended route for the day, the Pasaje Lunar (Moon Walk). By this time it was after midday incidentally. The marked route is in blue. I added the bit shown in red, returning on the same path.

I strapped on my pack and set off running along the track. It undulated and weaved back and forth into ravines. The weather had cleared up a little and some blue sky was visible, maybe I wasn't going to face the demon cloud after all? Eventually I reached an actual footpath signpost, the first I had ever seen in Tenerife. I was so shocked I had to take a photo.

You probably can't read it; it says Lunar Pasaje pointing left and right; 3.7km on one, 3.3km on the other. Basically it's a circular route, but gaining about 400M in altitude, so it's no pushover despite this being eventually earmarked for more casual tourists. At some point there would be car parking at this stage, but as it was at the moment there was a 5 mile (8km) return trek, back to the main road where I had parked (2.5 mile each way). At this stage I slowed to a fast walk as the route. Although not steep, was sufficiently taxing to tire out a runner rapidly. To my delight the entire path was lined each side with stones. This was one path in Tenerife that it would be very hard to get lost one. It was obvious quite a lot of money was being spent to make this accessible and attractive. I set off upwards through the young pine forest really just admiring the view. From time to time there would be a crossroads of older paths, but the right way was clearly way marked. About half way up the path I met a crossroads that I would have met on day 1 of my original route. Form this point on I would be travelling my actual route on day 1; a route which would take me to my day 1 camp location, if I left the Lunar Pasaje path at a specific point.

After about 30 minutes I got my first glimpse of the rock formations which give the route it's name. I've not bothered posting any more shots of this rock, because you get the idea don't you? White smoothish ash/lava formations resembling moon rock.

I think all the climbing made the route seem much longer, and it felt like more than 3km when I reached the highest point in the walk. Cloud was once more coming down and giving me the jitters a little, but it was comforting to be on an marked route. In fact that was the problem, this was too comforting. I glanced at my PDA and GPS and saw that I was at the exact point where, if this was day 1, I would head due north for around 2 miles, gaining more altitude before pitching my tent for the night assuming I could find a suitable location.

I looked up and around at the descending cloud (still good visibility at this stage) and decided I would follow my original route and see if what I had planned would have been viable. On the map, about half way along the red line, you can see I turn right and the texture of the rock changes. That is where I took this photo.

The rock look very bizarre, and from a distance looks completely smooth. I went forward into that ravine and then turned right almost doubting back on myself to follow a cairn-marked path up on into the middle of the rock on the right of that photo. I made it made which good views, but glancing back this cloud was closing it. It really looks menacing as it tumbles over the trees and headed towards me.

That was behind me, the way I had come from. Ahead was still clear and more inviting, but taking me further off the set trail. At this point I would have been about a mile from the Lunar Pasaje trail, which itself is very remote. Imagine my surprise to see this ahead me. It stretched for a full mile to the end of this rock on which I walked. Someone had laid this and practically no tourist would ever see it. Incidentally, that's Mount Guajara in the background.

It's still quite a slog walking its length as it does rise steadily gaining altitude. Behind me the cloud was swallowing everything and closing in rapidly. I did get a little worried, but kept it in check. I made it to the end of the 'path' and just looked ahead and saw that I could well have made camp there on day 1, so my plan would have been sound. I turned to run back the way I had come, and a few seconds later this was that same path.

More than a little disconcerting isn't it? I ran back down, I think probably a little faster than I would normally, perhaps a slight edge of fear. When I realised that, I stopped and walked. It was just cloud. I couldn't see very much, but I strolled at a slow pace for a while just letting it wash over me. I reassured myself, I knew where I was, I could find my way back with or without GPS and well, it was just cloud! I decided I was ok with it, and once more picked up the pace eventually rejoining the Lunar Pasaje route at the half-way point. The cloud was still thick though, and all those photo's I used to illustrate my day 1 disaster were taken on this day in the next hour or so. I coped better this time though!

From time to time it would clear a little as shown below, but would remain until I rejoined the dirt road and made my way back to the car.

I got back to the car about 5pm and had clocked up 12 miles in total, which brought my weekly total to around 65 miles. Not a bad week’s effort, after the early disaster. That brought a close to my training. I did get to go shopping that evening, and again the following day before I flew home. So Santa did have presents for everyone in the end you will be pleased to hear. Sadly, Santa forgot gift tags, so recipient’s names were scrawled in between the pattern on the gift wrap!

My week has trained me as much mentally, as physically, which really is what I needed. I'm already strong enough to take the MDS distances, but add the heat and it will become a real mental battle. That is the real battle for me now with the MDS. It will be won by my mind beating the body into submission, and forcing me to continue despite being convinced I am dying. I need a healthy respect for the MDS, but I can't get scared, it is self-defeating. I won a couple of battles in Tenerife, albeit barely. I am hoping that in the MDS I will be better prepared this time.

Tenerife Day 5: We're gonna need a bigger boat

2007-12-28T21:29:00.000Z

I woke up a little later on day 5, maybe around 9am. I looked outside the apartment and it was crystal clear blue sky. I looked north and Teide's summit was clearly visible. I knew that a partial thaw had taken place the previous day, and I just hoped it was enough to make a summit attempt.

I ate my final MDS breakfast, checked my rucksack and drove up to the national park. I stopped in the same lay-by as the previous day and spoke to the same park ranger again. I asked her if it was possible to climb Teide. To my delight she said that the path to the Mountain Refuge (3250M) on Teide’s slope had ice and snow, but was passable with care. She looked down at my trainers and said, but to go higher I would need crampons. I knew she was being helpful, but that amused me a little. It was like she was saying my kit was inadequate - hence the Jaws the movie reference in the blog post title. I thanked her and drove around to the start of the path (2350M). Luck was with me as a car pulled out of a space and gave me the final parking spot. I say parking spot; it's just a dirt patch at the side of the road. I strapped on my pack. I was carrying 10kg again, including 3l of water, 1.5l of which was slung across my front pack and fitted with a smart tube.

I set off up the wide path, which park ranger pickup trucks and rescue vehicles frequently use.

The path was mostly covered with snow and ice, but some of it was avoidable. All around me some of the lower snow had melted, but higher I could see that very little appeared to have gone. The first 3 miles are a steady climb up this wide path, gaining almost 400M in altitude. The scenery is quite spectacular all around, with good views over some parts of the island already. About 2 miles into the climb you pass by Teide's eggs, which are actually lava bombs spat out by the volcano during an eruption.

Wouldn't fancy one of these landing on my head would you?

From one of those shots you can see already that I am past cloud level at this altitude of approx 2650M. There were some amazingly deep snow drifts on parts of the path, some well over my head, but fortunately avoidable. I had started walking with just a long sleeve Raidlight Winter top on, but had very soon added my water/windproof jacket on as a fierce and biting wind cut through me. I reached the start of the ascent proper at 2725M. At this point you have a choice. You can either turn left and take an easy stroll to the top of Montagne Blanca, Teide’s next-door neighbour, or take a right and start heading more steeply uphill onto Teide itself. I had passed a couple of people on the approach to this position, and looking up I could see quite a few more at various stages of the ascent. It had taken me an hour so far.

As I began the steeper ascent I got hot. This part of the ascent was out of the wind, so I stripped back down to just my long sleeve top and carried on. It was too warm for a hat, but the risk of sunburn was high so I wore my buff, pirate style. I climbed at a quick but steady pace. There were quite a lot of parties of people making the ascent that day. I must have passed more than 30 people in total. I noticed that they were all carrying walking poles with ice tips, they all had heavy boots on, many wore crampons, and some even had ice axes! I outdid them in the big rucksack stakes though, but was envious of their crampons at times. The whole path was snow covered. There was no avoiding this snow at all. It was at least 2-3 inches deep, and there were some much deeper drifts in places. After about 40 minutes climbing I reached a small plateau where some snow had melted in places. I took this photo where you can see the proportion of the lava bombs to the ice-pole-sporting climbers.

A few minutes later I took this self portrait looking back at the same area.

The bit of greenery on that plateau soon gave way to snow, and some really deep drifts. This drift was shoulder height and you had to squeeze in between it and that rock to get through.

My shoes were gripping quite well, but I did slip and slide a little. Inevitably my feet got a little wet but I was careful to try and stamp-off excess snow from the upper of the shoe. I took this nice photo, looking back down. You can see the Las Canadas mountain range in the background, and middle ground was the area from which the 3 mile approach to the main climb is formed. You can make out the snowy path in places that stretches for 3 miles out of sight and back to the road.

I had been passing a lot of people on the ascent. All of them kindly stepped aside as I went past. Most of these people were younger and better equipped than me, but looked to be struggling with the altitude more than I did. I don't recall having any issue with the altitude last time I attempted Teide in March. From time to time I would pause a take a few seconds, but that was due to the amount of ascent rather than the thinness of the air. Maybe I'm fairly fortunate in some genetic element and not too susceptible to altitude sickness or altitude affects. It would be nice, to counterbalance my utter lack of genetic running-ability genes! Still, Teide is just 3719M. I'm sure if you put me another 1000M up on top of Mont Blanc I'd have decidedly less to say on the matter!

One hour and 10 minutes (2:10 total) after starting the steeper ascent I made it to the Mountain Refuge at 3250M. There were two people working there and a handful of people resting. Some would end their climb there and return, others were heading up, and a couple heading down.

I took 10 minutes rest at this point. I ate all of my cashew nuts and my Peperami. I had been getting cold on the approach to the mountain refuge, so I put on a fleece over my top, put my jacket back on. I put the buff around my neck as a scarf and put on my hat, my big Gore-Tex gloves on, as well as pulling up my hood over the top. I managed enough Spanglish to ask if the cable car was working. The answer came back "no". I was a little gutted, as I knew that meant access to the final 160M ((the cone) of the summit was closed. Visitor numbers are carefully controlled, but I had a summit pass which I had applied for before leaving. It also meant that I would not get to use the easy way down, I would have to walk the way I came. In all honesty I doubt I would have got the cable car anyway, but it would have been a nice safety net if I became too tired. Once more I conjured up some Spanglish and asked if I would be able to make it any further with my New Balance trainers on, without crampons. Very difficult came back the reply. I did at this point agonise over continuing on or not. The last 100M of the climb had been more difficult. More snow had turned to ice and some sections were quite treacherous.

One guy headed off up and a couple of minutes later I decided I would at least take a look. I would just get as far as I could and then turn around. I set off, pulling my hood up tight around me as the wind-chill cut the temperature well below 0C.

I took the first photo just after the mountain refuge looking back, and the second photo about 10 minutes into the climb later.

I encountered deeper drifts which I had to go through. Luckily for me I was able to step in other peoples footsteps, as I was not the first to climb. It's not easy to see the depth, but you can just see the shadow that the lip of the drift casts on my leg. The depth was up to my thigh! This had ceased to be any kind of a training run/walk, this was like mountaineering!

I didn't take too many photo's looking up but this one illustrates perfectly what steepness and the conditions were like for the whole climb after 2725M (the end of the easy 3 mile part!).

As I gained more height all of the snow became ice. I began to seriously struggle in places with no traction whatsoever. There was no way whatsoever I would have been able to make it without the help of the cramp-on wearing people who had climbed before me. I was able to step in the footsteps and ice-holes that they had made and make continued albeit more slow progress. There were a few sections where you had to scramble on all fours, and some sections that were so icy that I'm not sure how I got up them. It was absolutely freezing cold now. My face was so cold than drips on my nose were freezing. I think the wind chill was up in the -teens. When I went in March the summit temp was -22, so I imagine that it was similar today.

Suddenly, I rounded a corner and it was there; the summit cone! I was at 3535M and to all intense purposes that day, the summit. OK, it was not the very very peak, but I would have easily strolled up the last section if it was open that day. I was very pleased to have done it, as the smile on my face shows.

I didn't hang around long. It had taken me 3 hours to reach the summit and it was 15:05. I doubted it would take me 3 hours to descend, but I had to assume such as so set off back down. The descent to the Mountain Refuge was very tricky. I fell on my arse countless times, but didn't injure myself. Going up was hard, but going down was impossible for me to stay upright for long. I resorted to sliding down sections on my bum where there were dangerous sections and small drops. I slipped, slided and bumped my way back down to the refuge, but gradually began to run and pickup speed afterwards. The ice gave way to snow on lower slopes and made it possible for me to run. There were sections where I was forced to walk, but for the most part I descended fast, sliding but then gripping with each footstep. The descent was actually less hard on my knees as a result and really very enjoyable.

I met an English family half way down. I told them it wasn't far to the refuge. They were staying there for the night and continuing in the morning. You can book in advance to stay the night at the Mountain Refuge if you ever fancy a go. They have a lovely fireplace, but I heard that they don't light it unless the temperature gets to -7, inside the refuge! I met a few other people ascending on both the steep, and the 3 mile path back to the car. I stopped to chat for a few seconds and ran on. I think most of them thought I was a little crazy running down a snowy mountain. I made it back to the car in just 1.5 hours. That was fast I thought. I wondered what I could do in dry conditions? I got back to the car a little after 16:30 and drove back down to the coast, arriving around 17:30. I had a lovely Italian meal in Los Cristianos with my sister and then went back to my apartment. Me and my sister were going to go Christmas shopping the following day. I was at last, going to take a day off training!!

Well, at least that's was the plan...

Tenerife Day 4: Montana De Guajara & Roque Del Conde

2007-12-28T10:26:00.000Z

I woke up and had one of my MDS camping breakfasts again, working on the assumption I could have a hard day ahead and hopefully climb Mount Teide itself. The weather up at the volcano looked fine. You could see the very tip of it from the apartment by the coast, just above the hills and mountains. I drove up to the national park through some low cloud and poor weather, but it cleared as I reached the plateau as I got above the clouds. However, as I reached the plateau I was shocked to see ice and snow all around me, some piled at the sides of the road. The mountains all around were tipped with ice and then Teide came into view.

This is the shot I took on Teide on day 1.

These I took that morning; note the snow.

The rain storm I had been caught in at 2000M had been a snow and ice-storm just a few hundred metres in altitude above me. I stopped at a viewpoint at the side of the road and told me ranger that I was thinking of climbing Teide, but was it possible? She told me that the path was closed, as it was completely covered in snow and ice. There was no one there to physically hold me back if I wanted to make an attempt, but obviously I wouldn't be trying. I was asking the locals and getting advice. So, it would appear that I do learn, even if it is only marginally faster than a pigeon.

I got back in the car and drove around to the foot of the mountain, stopping along the way to take a few photos. Although the sky was mostly clear, there were 'whiteouts' in some places and much reduced visibility. This photo was taken at the start of the Teide ascent path. Teide's tip is visible to the centre left.

This photo was taken a couple of hundred metres further down the road, looking out towards Las Canadas mountain range, which is of course not visible at all! It gives you a good idea of the conditions around the peak though.

So, I then started to drive back towards Las Canadas, which eventually emerged into view as I cleared one of these whiteouts. I'm not sure what meteorological phenomena was it play in this shot, but it looks pretty eh?

I stopped by the hotel that I been at two days earlier, The Parador (the only hotel in the national park), and asked if my items had been returned. They had not, and had not been before I left the island. I assume they are gone for ever. I took this photo of the hotel, with the highest mountain in Las Canadas in the background; Montana De Guajara.

Seeing this gave me an idea. The peak was around 2700M, one thousand metres less than Teide so there was less snow (at least from the angle of the photo). My guidebook showed two routes to the summit; a short one, almost going straight up, and one twice as long skirting around the left side and making a less steep approach. The authors had marked the short path as 'potentially dangerous', and that was without snow and ice. So, I thought I would try the long route. I set off alone the dirt road, which had a barrier across to prevent any cars going through.
My route is shown in red. The green cross is where I parked, the blue cross is the start of the ascent, the red cross is where I turned.

The dirt road wound it's way up and down, and around the mountain for 2.5 miles until the start of the easier summit path at that blue cross. I took a couple of photo's on the way round. This one shows the mountain above me in full sunlight and quite sheer so little snow shows.

This one just a rock formation, but shows some ice and snow on the dirt road. A definite thaw was taking place, but all the places in shadow were still quite frozen.

I reached the summit path, the difficulty level was shown as high, but it didn't in any way look technical just lengthy and steep in places. I was the first person that day (it was around midday at this stage) to attempt the path. I could tell because it was just fresh snow on the path, making it especially difficult to follow in places. I had to back track a number of times and no doubt confused the daylights out of people who followed later. The path zigzagged back and forth up he slope. After half an hours climbing I was around half way up the slope heading towards the first ridge when this bank of cloud came tumbling over the cliffs ahead and started bearing down on me.

This spooked me, after my experience on day 2, and I pretty quickly turned on my heels and descended. I pass a couple of German walkers on their way up behind me and they seemed not be at all bothered by it. By the time I reached the plateau again the cloud had cleared a little. Still I started walking back towards the car and then took the detour loop you see at the bottom of that map. I was intending to follow a set walk, but I forked left instead of right at one point, following someone’s footsteps. I assumed they knew where they were going, I was wrong. The person wandered aimlessly around obviously lost. I used my GPS to loop back round and back to the fork in the road. I could have then taken the right branch but instead I saw the cloud was much clearer over the mountain above, and I was convinced that the cloud I had seen was more or less just evaporation and not any kind of rain cloud so I headed back and set off up the ascent path again.

After 30 minutes I passed the point where I had turned and soon after approached the first ridge, but in doing so headed into deeper snow.

Once over the ridge I got a great vista of the Canadas range, and looked out accross a huge expanse of substantial but fairly harmless looking cloud that filled the valley the other side of the ridge.

The path skirted the valley and wound round towards the back of the mountain, positioning you to make a final summit approach from behind. In some places the snow had melted whilst in others it was still shaded and quite substantial.

I had set myself a time limit of stopping at 3pm and returning to ensure I made it back in daylight. I passed yet more German walkers who had also heard the warning about the ascent/descent on the other side of the mountain and were wisely returning the same route that I was using. They had decided to call it a day too. I weighed up my options and decided that I would walk until 2pm instead to be on the safe side (I was playing very cautious after my nightmare experience). I was up at 2500m at this stage and didn't want to get caught out up here. I turned sharp right and headed up the summit path. There were lots of snow drifts but mostly easy to skirt around. The climb was quite tiring even though I was down to under 10kg backpack weight now, but I pressed on until the stroke of 2pm. I judged that I still had at least another 30 minutes of climbing, maybe more, to summit and so stuck to my plan and turned heel to return. I was at around 2600M at this stage. I took a self portrait looking back the way I had come from.

I decided I would run all the way back where safe to do so. I found that my shoes offered quite a lot of grip in the snow surprisingly, and bounded down much quicker than I had anticipated. I ran back around to the top of the first ridge where I happened upon yet more German walkers, a younger couple this time. I got them to take a photo of me, with the volcano Teide as the backdrop.

This was a little lower at around 2500M. They spoke good English and asked if I was running. I said I walked up, but was running back down. "Respect!" the guy said. That made me quite happy. I said goodbye and trotted off back down the slope and headed down. I made much faster progress than I thought, descended in no time, ran back along the dirt road and was back at the car by 3pm! So, I had 3 hours of daylight left and still plenty of energy to waste. I headed down towards the coast on the Vilaflor road. I would usually avoid this road because it is winding and slow, opting for the faster road through Guia Des Isora. However, this was means to an end. I stopped near Vilaflor at the start of an official walk called the Pasaje Lunar (Moon Walk). I was told in the town that it would take anything between 4 and 8 hours to complete, so this was out for today but I put it on my list of things to do.

I headed further down towards the coast and stopped in Arona. There is a huge mountain that dominates the skyline on the Las Americas coast. It's called Roque Del Conde (Condor Rock), but known locally as Table Mountain.

I stopped off at a small car park and the sign on the board said 3.5km each way, 2 hours each way. By this time it was 4:30pm and the sun sets just after 6pm. There was a 450M net gain in altitude from 700 to 1150M, but the route actually drops into a ravine after the first kilometre before climbing back out, so probably more like 500M in total ascent. The approx route is shown below.

I had summit fever, and having missed the Guajara’s summit through self-caution, I felt I wanted to try for this one. Of course there was no way I would make it with a heavy backpack, so I took two small bottles of water and left my backpack in the car. I could now run properly at speed. The path after the ravine was the remains of a donkey trail used to farm agricultural terraces all over the slope. I took this shot of an old threshing circle just before main ascent.

The path was very rough and very steep in places, but with careful footwork, run-able. I ran up the mountain at a good pace, walking now and again for short times for recovery. I was against the clock and had given myself 45 minutes each way, meaning I should just make it back for 6pm. I pushed myself hard, scrambling on all fours in places and forced to walk in others where the path was just too tricky to run. I took a good shot of the path looking back, so you can see the kind of footwork required.

This shot was not in fact the summit, just a path past a large rock on the way, but it illustrates the angle of ascent. The donkey trail had vanished by now, and it was just a matter of scrambling and climbing to reach the summit.

Shortly before the summit I passed two people on the way down, German again. No surprise there! However these looked like random tourists. One had his shirt off, and the other looked like his dad. They said it was maybe 10 minutes to summit. I had just about enough minutes to spare I thought, if I was quick. I dashed past and ran or scrambled up the remaining area and hit the summit. Yay!

I literally took this one photo for proof and dashed straight back down. It had taken me 43 minutes exactly.

The descent was probably trickier than the ascent and I was certainly more tired after expending all my effort to reach the summit in time. The Germans were surprised to see me so soon "that was quick" one chirped. I left them to stroll down. There was no way they were making it before sunset. I ran down without incident, but took a few walking breaks meaning that the descent took me 38 minutes. Not a bad day’s work. After that summit I was tired and hungry and felt I had worked hard. I had another great meal that evening with my sister and went to bed, still with a vague hope of making an ascent on Teide before the week was out.

Tenerife Day 3: Re-plan and re-stock

2007-12-28T09:44:00.000Z

So, the day after the nightmare of the previous day

I woke up at my sisters house to the sound of heavy rain outside, much like the day before. I felt quite well rested, but from the sound of the weather knew I would be doing little that day. I stayed in, dried things out, and used the Internet at her house for much of the day.

Camping was now out of the plan. There was no point now. First, the weather was bad and secondly to reach the areas I wanted to train meant driving and there was little point camping next to my car each evening. I took out my tent, sleeping bag, roll-mat and a couple of other bits and pieces from my rucksack and left them out for the rest of the week; losing 2.5 kilos in the process, and quite a bit of the bulk. My New Balance MDS1100 shoes and the orthotics inside were still dripping wet. My Sister had lent me some trainers but they were two sizes too small. Once the rain stopped mid afternoon I went on a shopping trip. I bought a fairly cheap pair of trainers to use for getting around whilst my other dried. I also bought a cheap fleece to replace the one I lost. Finally I bought a big pair of Gore-Tex waterproof/windproof gloves; guaranteed to keep you dry they said. The skies cleared to blue in the afternoon, the sun came out and it warmed back up to 24C. You would hardly have even known that there had been a storm; unbelievable.

I went back to my sisters house. She was still at work. At about 6pm her boyfriend asked if I felt up to a short run with him. I did, so we ran from Adeje down to the beach at La Caleta, down a gradual 2.5 mile gradient, then returned by the same route. So, just a 5 mile run but with 250m of descent, then ascent. Somewhat less than the 20 miles I had planned, but better than nothing. I had to use the new trainers without orthotics, but I got away with it for such a short distance. We then all went out for a meal, after which I dropped them off at their house and drove back to the apartment. I decided that the following day I would drive up to Teide national park and see if I could make a summit attempt on the volcano.

Tenerife Day 2: What doesn't kill you...

2007-12-27T21:13:00.001Z

Where do I start with this one? Even now, just a week later, I struggle to recall all of the details of that day. I read somewhere once that the brain 'forgets' traumatic experiences. I think that happened here to some extent.

You are going to need to kick back and get comfortable, this is a fairly long post, sorry.

A few days before I flew out, as most people do, I checked the 5 day forecast. Tuesday and Wednesday were shown as cloudy, with a little rain. I was a little disappointed, but thought no big deal. I was going to be in Tenerife, it's hot all year round, I can survive a shower. I had packed in my rucksack: a waterproof jacket with hood, several layers of clothes (primarily to combat the cold I would experience on day 2 climbing the volcano Mount Teide), included full length running leggings, a warm Berghaus hat as well as my Raidlight desert cap, and some very expensive 'Windstopper' gloves. This was amongst all of the other kit I carried for the 3 day camping trip. My backpack weighed around 12kg, including 3 litres of water. I planned to top up with water at the half way (A place called Las Lajas: 10 mile) point that day, to provide sufficient to last out the first day, cook, and enough to see me through to a water stop the following day.

I got up at 6:30am and made breakfast in the apartment. I ate my MDS breakfast of Porrage oats, banana chips and powdered milk, all prepared with a pint of boiled water. I washed this down with 50g of PSP22; a carbohydrate-loader drink. This is a fairly big breakfast; around 900 calories. I had 100g of salted cashew nuts, 45g of SIS Go electrolyte and a Peperami to snack on as I ran/walked, and then a Mountain House 800 Kcalorie meal in the evening. This would be the same menu I would eat every day. This is around 2700 kcal total. I drove my hire car to Adeje in darkness; about a 20 minutes drive, and sat in a car park waiting about 15 minutes for dawn. I knew the path was rough, and despite having a head torch, it was not safe to travel the rough trails in darkness. Adeje sits about 250m (800ft) above sea level. My half way point would be the recreation area of Las Lajas that I visited the previous day. This would be after 10 miles, and at 2100M (7000ft). I always knew that this would be a hard day. That is a lot of altitude to gain in a short time, with a big pack, over very rough terrain. I had calculated I would need to cover 2 miles per hour over the day to enable me to reach camp (20 miles). Below is the route for the first 10 miles to Las Lajas.

The first 5 miles (shown in blue) is, for the want of a better phrase, an established footpath. It is reasonably easy to follow if you keep your eyes peeled. The second 5 miles (shown in red) is a path of my own design. In other words there is no path. I would be cutting cross country through a steep uphill pine forest for about 2.5 miles, but hopefully locating what looked like old dirt road on Google Earth, for the last 2.5 miles and following it as it zigzagged sharply up the mountain to Las Lajas. This section is shown below.

I had agonised about this route choice for many hours before I left. I knew it was risky, not following a path and just trekking through a forest, but there was no other realistic way of reaching the 2000M plateau in a single day if I stuck to paths or roads. I had Google Earth on constantly, zooming in, and altering the viewing angle to try and find a route. I eventually settled on the one you see. I hoped to gain a ridge top and walk it's entire length to Las Lajas as hopefully this angle illustrates.

The green cross is where I would leave the path after 5 miles of trekking; at 1040M. The red cross is Las Lajas where I would meet a road at 2100M; after 10 miles.

So, scene set, I'll get back to the story. Dawn eventually cast enough light for me to make out detail on the hills and cliffs above. I strapped on my pack and walked up the very steep road to a (closed) tourist information stand at the entrance of Tenerife’s most famous walk; Barranca Del Inferno (Hell's ravine). Here I took a sharp left, away from the Inferno walk, and then a right to join a rubble strewn path. I was on familiar territory here, having walked these first 5 miles back in March of this year as blogged here. I would be gaining 800m in just over 2 miles as I followed the zigzagging path to the cliffs above. The weather was a little overcast, but there was a little blue sky. I was dressed in a long sleeve Under Armour Metal HeatGear compression top, and Raidlight shorts. I knew I would be generating a lot of body heat on this day with the considerable ascent and was dressed for the part, but I had my extra layers either on top, or in the webbing of my rucksack.

I set off walking up the hill. I knew there was no possibility to run this steep bouldered path with the weight I was carrying (or even with no rucksack!). Glancing at my Timex speed/distance watch (GPS-driven) I was just about averaging 2mph. I climbed steadily resisting the temptation to push for a better pace, conscious that I had to cover 20 steep and tough miles that day. I reached the cliffs above (1100M) about an hour and 10 minutes later. It was here that I paused for 5 minutes. I first sent out my position to the tracking website to update my live-tracking blog post (click satellite view). I had the intention to update once per hour, but as it turned out the position you see was the first and only update I managed to send.

I took this photo at this point.

The wind was a little gusty up there, and you can see it was a little cloudy and I think it was drizzling slightly. I pressed on ahead, taking a wrong turn and having to cut back cross-country onto the right path. This lost me a little time and I hurried to catch up, managing to run parts of this section. The next 3 miles were undulating, gaining and loosing a couple of hundred metres but overall remaining around 1100M. The weather seemed to brighten up as these next two photo's show.

Those were the last photos my lovely ultra-lightweight doomed Casio Exilim S3 would ever take. I was going down into a ravine on the left side, and then climbing up and back out of the ravine on the right side. You can see the nice inverted V shape on the first Google Earth view of my route. As I climbed out of the ravine it started to rain. I wasn't sure if it was a shower or not, but I took off my rucksack and got out my waterproof jacket and put it on. The temperature was a little cooler now, but my legs were warm from the effort, so I left my shorts on and continued. Shortly afterwards I emerged from heavy forest, into lighter but still covered forest, near a small village called Ifonche. There are signs of agriculture all around and I saw a few farms and knew that a road was but a few hundred metres away.

I had reached the point on my map where the blue line ends, and I was to go cross country and make my own path up the mountain for 5 miles. The rain had a got a little heavier, and I think I briefly considered heading for Ifonche and seeking shelter and safety. However, I had no reason to suspect that the rain would not just stop any minute so I looked down at my PDA/GPS which was showing a Google Earth screenshot and a flashing dot with my location on it. It had a faint red line showing my planned path, so I headed off vaguely northerly back into the heavier forest. My path was initially in a shallow ravine, wide enough to drive a car up, and to my surprise there were small cairns now and again way marking the path. This was comforting, knowing that maybe I wasn't the only person to have attempted this route. The climb became steeper as I reached the source of the ravine and climbed up to my ridgeline. The wide path vanished but small cairns still persisted from time to time even though any kind of path had gone. I was perhaps 1 mile up the mountain when I came across an old narrow (8 inch wide) aqueduct going in the same direction that I was heading. Again this was comforting; it was like following a little road.

It got colder, the rain got heavier and visibility got poorer as I headed into low cloud. It was at his stage that I first got concerned. I weighed up my options of turning on my heels and going back down the mountain to Ifonche, continuing, or even pitching camp then and there. However the hill was steep and boulder strewn and besides I thought I was just being silly. I mean, imagine pitching camp because of a bit of rain? I compromised, took off my rucksack again, and put on a North Face fleece on top of my compression top, then put my waterproof jacket back on and pulled the hood up. I put on my Windstopper gloves and fastened my jacket sleeves over the top of the base of them, to keep out the cold. My legs were getting wet but I wasn't really feeling any cold on them because of the workload and heat they produced.

I continued on, but the aqueduct started to veer off to the left as though to contour a particularly steep hill ahead. Comforted by its presence I decided to follow it. I did this for perhaps half a mile, before glancing down at my PDA and seeing that it really was not going in the right direction. I was forced to backtrack on my route exactly and then head up the very steep section. It was getting hazier but I still had reasonable visibility. To illustrate the terrain and visibility at this stage I have this photo which I took with a disposable camera a few days later. I encountered similar cloud conditions, but no rain. So you will have to use your imagination here. Terrain the same, but add heavy rain.

Now, the next couple of hours are hazy. I don't remember every detail. I may have to keep coming back and adding more if I remember any, but this is where things got bad.

The rain got worse. Imagine the heaviest rain you have ever been in, or driven in, and this as it. I had my hood up, so this amplified the sound and was really demoralising. The cloud got thicker, but I was clinging onto some stupid hope that I would gain so much altitude that I would emerge through the top and into fine weather. These shots show the poorer visibility and rock strewn ground quite well.

Because of trees, rocks and large boulders it was impossible to follow a straight path. I constantly had to weave left and right to contour obstacles as I headed upwards. Visibility became so poor I only had 10M at the most. It was like walking in thick, but more tangible, fog. A little while afterwards I found myself walking downhill. I looked at my PDA/GPS and it seemed think I was still going in the right direction. But that couldn't be right I thought; My route is all uphill, and steep uphill at that? I veered off to one side a for a while to see how this would affect my illustrated course. Then the GPS said I was walking back the way I had come? I got very worried very quickly. I had a real concern that the cloud and terrain was affecting the GPS signal, as I read it can, and I was getting 'bounces' sending me off in the wrong direction. In fact I could already be well off course and lost. I literally walked around in circles trying to get the GPS to show me which way to go, but which ever way I walked always seemed to be the wrong direction. I began to panic now. I was lost and in the middle of nowhere. There was thick forest and ravines all around me for miles in every direction. I stood still in the heavy rain and wind, my mind in overdrive panic. I looked around in every direction at this kind of scene, but with the heavy rain on top.

I thought I should pitch camp here and now and briefly scanned the forest floor. It was useless, there were boulders everywhere and I was getting colder as I stood still. I had only pitched the tent once and what If I could not get it up in time and lost too much body heat? No one was going to find me in this remote location, especially not in this weather. I remembered my compass and that I was heading almost exactly due north. I took it out but in my confusion and panic I realised that I needed a more precise bearing or I could just miss the road and head miles into the forest. I put it away and fear gripped me. I was cold, my legs were wet and red from the lashing rain and wind, and I had no idea which direction out of 360 degrees I should go in. I don't know for how long this persisted, but at some stage I began to fear for my life. You realise just how insignificant you are under the power of Mother Nature. I was not under; I was right in the middle of a storm cloud. I could not see anything, I was cold and scared. I had visions of my body being found weeks later, or worse never been found at all because of the remoteness of my location. It's not a nice feeling more or less being convinced you are going to die. I remember taking down my hood to ease the drumming sound from the rain to try and clear my thoughts. Then I put it back on to stay warm and dry. I must have done this dozens of times in the next couple of hours in my confused state of mind. My heart was racing as I panicked and I knew I had to calm down.

I crouched down, resting one hand on the ground and took a few deep breaths. bizarrely then I remembered a phrase from the book/film 'Dune'- "Fear is the mind-killer." How right that was. I had no clarity, I was scared and panicked and had no idea what to do. I repeated that line in my head a few times, taking deep breaths, and some semblance of calm returned. I had to start moving and get warmer, or probably eventually die. I needed to get to a road. I had no path to follow the way I had come from, and was probably exactly in between my start and destination. I had one chance and that was to put all of my faith in the PDA/GPS. I didn't think about this until afterwards, but a past training incident had made me buy a piece of kit that proved crucial. My PDA (I had two PDA's; another spare in my rucksack) was in an Aquapac, a waterproof bag. If it had not been in that bag, the PDA would have been destroyed over the next hour or two along with my other electronics that met that fate. Several times over the next couple of hours I pondered just dropping my 12kg backpack and enabling myself to move faster, but my better sense stopped me. All my water (probably not an issue given the weather!) clothes and provisions were in there. All the time I had been scanning for cover; a cave, anything, but there was none.

I stood up and just walked in a random direction, correcting my course until the GPS indicated I was headed back towards my red line and due north. I was hard to keep my head down looking at the GPS and move through the terrain. I tried to took ahead and make visual markers. I would think "yes, I'll head towards that tree". Of course I was in a forest and I would glance away momentarily, look back up and all the pines trees looked the same! How stupid I was. A couple more times I seemed to be veering off the wrong way and doubled back. More panic, followed by crouching and deep breaths and I would try again. I started to head steeply upwards again. This must be right I thought.

Mother Nature lent me a helping hand. I was glancing around and the cloud thinned out for a few seconds off to my left. The other side of a small ravine I thought I caught site of the dirt road I was looking for. I headed west towards it, dropping down into the ravine and climbed up the other side on all fours. I emerged at the top on my hands and knees with a dirt road in front of me. I think I experienced 2 or 3 seconds of relief, before I realised that I was still in trouble. Firstly I had no idea if this was the right dirt road, but I didn't remember seeing another on Google Earth, and secondly this was still only half way to Las Lajas.

At least I knew which way to head on the dirt road as it headed sharply upwards. The road could probably accommodate a 4x4 vehicle but was very rough. Worse though for me; it had practically turned into a river. I frequently just waded up to my ankles in rainwater. All around new mini waterfalls have sprung up as water gushed down from the higher ground. I was cold but now moving at a better pace on a better walking surface my body stayed warm enough. The dirt road zigged and zagged and seemed to go on for ever. I questioned many times if it was the right road, or right direction, still very scared indeed.

I don't know for how long it was happening but my back and arms were getting colder. I had a habit of hooking my thumbs under my rucksack shoulder straps when ascending, as do many people, and this proved to be a terrible error. My very expensive Windstopper gloves were not of course waterproof. Sure they could fend off a light shower, but this was no light shower. They had been patiently soaking up rain for some hours, reached there fill-point and were now draining water inside my waterproof jacket (I had fastened my jacked over the gloves base remember) down my arms and because of the angle I was walking up at, down my body, back and hips. At the time, because of my state of mind, I didn't fully realise this and just assumed my waterproofing on the jacket had eventually failed. I knew my hands were soaking wet and cold, but I did not make a connection. So, I continued on getting colder now. I increased my pace to try and compensate. I kept checking the GPS and did not seem to be getting closer because of the zigzag road. It always seemed like 'just half a mile now', but 10 minutes later it looked like it was still half a mile to go.

I hoped I was getting close and imagined myself coming into view of the restaurant at Las Lajas. I would stumble in, half frozen; drop my pack to the ground to a look of horror from the owner who I had met the previous day. He would then rush round his counter, and help me get out of my soaked clothes, ply me with towels and coffee, and sit me in front of the log fire. I replayed this scenario in my head, resting all my hopes on it and then I suddenly thought "what if it is closed?". Worry came over me again, but I knew it was dangerous to assume the place would be open. In fact I had to assume that it would be closed because of the storm. I made another plan. I would get to the road and phone my sister. She would panic of course, but even she would take an hour to reach me. I knew that as soon as I stopped moving my body temperature would drop even further. I remembered reading (or TV) about an experienced SAS operative training in either the Brecon Beacons or Dartmoor. Late in his career, he was by then in a desk-bound role but decided to take part in an exercise with potential new recruits. To cut a long story short he pressed on in a blizzard whilst others stopped and sheltered. He made a long ascent and was warm, but when it plateau’d his body temperature dropped too much and he just slowed, stopped and died.

I knew I was in this situation now. I was carrying a lot of weight, had gained plenty of altitude and managed to stay warm. But, I was wet. When I stopped I would be in big trouble. I was not sure my sister would get to me in time, but it was the best plan I had right then. After what seemed an eternity I rounded a corner and saw a red pickup truck leaving the recreation area. My first sign of civilization; it brought immense relief to me, but it vanished out of view and away. I prepared my mind for the restaurant being shut. It was, and shut up so tight with heavy log doors I could not have barged my way in if I wanted to!

I walked on and stopped by the road. I unzipped my rucksack pocket and took out my phone. It was off? It wouldn't switch on. It was destroyed along with all of my other electronics. However, I had another phone, my new one. It was in a light plastic case to stop it getting scratched, and was better protected I hoped. I hoped to swap the SIM card between the phones. I took off my gloves to give me better dexterity and looked in horror at my hands. They were waxy-looking; blotchy - big patches of yellow and blue all over. I peeled back my sleeve and my whole arm was the same, as was the other. They didn't even look like parts of my body. I could only imagine what the rest of me looked like. One word came to my confused and panicked mind; hypothermia. I looked down at my legs, they were no longer red, but pale, but not as cold as my arms. I dropped my pack and opened it to find that the contents were wet. A long sleeve Helly Hansen top soaked, spare socks wet through. I reached down to the bottom and found my Raidlight winter leggings. They were more or less dry at least. I quickly put them on, anxious to keep what warmth I had left in then. My hands were so cold I could only get the SIM out of the broken phone, but not into the other one. I managed to push the SIM card into my leggings pocket and put the phone away. I started to shiver more now.

Even if I could have got hold of my sister, she would not arrive in time. I needed help fast, I needed help now. A few cars came past on the road going either up towards the volcano Teide, or back down towards the coast. I thought I should thumb a lift from a car going down to the coast, and in the direction of my sister. I help out my arm to passing cars going down, but none stopped. It was pouring with rain, I must have looked terrible but they just flew by. I got colder and more scared, thinking of the state of my skin and what that meant. I was now desperate. A car came up the hill, going the wrong way for me. By now I just wanted to get in a car, any car, and feel warmth. I literally jumped in front of the car and waved my arms. I stepped back and it passed by, but pulled over on the road. I ran over to the car. Inside was a man and woman (in their late fifties or early sixties), they were German. I speak a little French and Spanish, but no German. I indicated that I was freezing cold and wanted to get in the car. The man understood and got out. He tried to open to boot of his hire car but was unfamiliar with how. Odd the detail I remember, but I remember it was a Seat car, because I just instinctively lifted the S badge on the boot and opened it (I drive a lot of rental cars!). I put my rucksack inside and also my water-soaked jacket and glove(s) (I lost one at some point, I don't know where).

I got in the back of the car and he set off saying he was going up towards Teide. I didn't care, I just wanted to be inside. I indicated for the heater to be turned on, which he did, although I didn't feel it. I took off my wet fleece and compression shirt, stripping down to my bare torso. I wasn't sure what was best, wet clothes or no clothes? By now I was shivering badly and chattering uncontrollably. I put the fleece back on, and then a few minutes later took it off. The man reached into his back and miraculously pulled out a towel and said 'make rub' indicating I should rub myself. I did just that. I rubbed so hard on my arms and body that it probably would have hurt if I would had had more feeling. I rubbed frantically, like someone crazed, all the time shivering as my body tried to generate warmth.

While this was going on the scene outside the car was like the scene from Dante’s Peak where a car is escaping an exploding volcano and rocks fall all around. The road up to Teide is steep and winding. The heavy rain had caused some pretty substantial rock falls and the German driver was not only unfamiliar with the roads, but also in poor visibility and having to dodge large rocks. He misjudged some hairpin corners, weaving onto the other side of the road and giving his poor wife heart failure. Fate conspired to spare us from a head-on crash on this 10 mile journey. There were accidents to avoid and park rangers were desperately trying to clear debris from the road to prevent further accidents. All this seemed unimportant to me though, as I tried to get warm. I was in a state of shock at my state by now, shivering badly, but still trying to rub my skin warm in the back seat. The occupants of the car hadn't registered quite how bad I was and pulled over in a lay-by to take photos of a famous rock! He went to take the keys out of the car, and I said no please leave them in for the heater. I was shivering violently and uncontrollably now, and they realised I was in a poorly state. I then remembered the geography of the national park and looked through the rear window and a building I could just see a few hundred metres away.

Hotel, I said, pointing at it. Please take me to the hotel. He understood and drove around to it. I got out of the car thinking 'hot shower'. I had my leggings and trainers on, and just a towel wrapped around me. He opened the boot, but I was beyond concern for my possessions and just headed for the door. He indicated he would bring my stuff. I pushed my way into what turned out to be a kind of canteen which was fairly full of walkers, or coach party members all sheltering from the weather. The looked at me in horror as I stood shivering violently and chattering (ff ff ff ff ff, you get the idea). I stood by the counter, dazed and confused. I didn't know what to do. I looked at people buying coffee, but could not bring my mind to step forward and push into the queue. I just froze, totally confused. The German man then came and guided me through a staff door and through to the hotel reception where I approached the counter. The receptionist was there with the manager as it turned out. I said please I need a hot shower. The manager took one look at me and just grabbed a door key. He guided me upstairs into a hotel room and into the bathroom.

I was beyond any body shyness and simply took everything off, pulled on the tap and set it to maximum heat. I didn’t notice, but the manager gathered up the clothes there and took them away leaving me alone. I stood with the water running over my head and body at first. I didn't even feel it being hot for quite some time. I've since read that hot water reduces shock, and it certainly did. It calmed me down fairly quickly. I think the towel that the German gave me to 'make rub' was absolutely critical to my recovery. I have since read that it's not a good idea to let anyone with suspected hypothermia to get it a shower because it can cause the cold blood in the limbs to go to the heart and cause cardiac arrest (It's called after drop. So please no one follow my example here. I was lucky and got away with it, but what I did was dangerous!). I think just maybe I had heated myself up enough with towel in the car, and also not warmed up my arms first in the shower, giving my body chance to heat up. Then again, maybe I would have been fine anyway, getting straight in? I just don’t know, I’m not a doctor. From reading the symptoms I'm sure I had the onset of hypothermia. The fact I was still shivering was good though, because you can actually stop shivering if you get too cold. I stayed in the shower for a long time. I'm not sure, maybe half an hour?

I warmed up, but was still very shaky and confused. I took this to be low blood sugar. The manager came back to check on me and I asked for something with lots of sugar; Coke maybe. He sent up a porter with a teapot full of hot chocolate; perfect. I put all the sugars in the first cup and drank it down. I poured two more cups, emptying the pot, and maybe 15 minutes later started to feel a little better. It was only at this point that I was sure I was going to be ok. The German guy came up to the room and dropped off my hat. I thanked him profusely, I'm sure he got the gist. I'm sure that if he would not have stopped and aided me how he did, I could have died.

I just lay down and rested for a while. The manager came back. He had dried my leggings and bought he a T-Shirt to use. Sadly the UK SIM card in the leggings pocket was lost to the washing machine. I dressed and went downstairs. My rucksack was behind reception and I checked into the hotel with my soaked (but still usable) passport. They were not even going to charge me for the room, but I figured I owed them and booked a night anyway. My sister’s boyfriend had given me his business card, and I had it with me for some reason. I called him, and then he got my sister to phone the hotel.

I relayed my story to her, and she said that she had not seen the weather forecast either the night before. However at work that day, colleagues had told her that an 'Orange Alert' had been issued to the Canary Islands; one state down from the worst. The worst storm in 2 years had hit Tenerife. All schools were closed (and stayed closed the next day) and there was flooding down by the coast. It turned out that this was the same storm front that caused the recent ice-storms in the USA. She had tried to warn me but could not get through to me, and was worrying because I had been out of contact. I told her I was OK and would stay at the hotel that night. I went back into the canteen and had a meal; Canarian potatoes and rabbit stew. Can't say as though I would normally pick rabbit stew, but wow it tasted amazing.

Afterwards, I went back to my room and fairly quickly fell asleep. Sometime later, I was woken by the phone. My sister and her boyfriend had braved the weather and awful drive up to Teide, to come and see me. The hotel receptionist told them that there was a local Red Cross centre that was dealing with a hypothermia case nearby apparently. If I would have known there was a Red Cross centre I would have gone there. As it turned out, it all worked out ok, by some mix of luck and judgement.

My sister convinced me to come back and stay at their house, so I checked out of the hotel (I did pay anyway). I tried to give the manager some money as well, but he would not have it. I realised I had dropped items on the floor of the German peoples car. I left a letter there, written in Spanish (by my sister’s boyfriend) asking if the items were returned to call. I checked a few days later and nothing, so I think they are gone. I just thanked everyone and went back to Adeje.

I left in their car:
A Windstopper glove (good riddance)
Under Armour Metal long sleeve compression shirt
North Face fleece
Raidlight desert cap
Timex Bodylink watch and GPS unit

Destroyed by the rain:
Nokia N70 mobile phone
Casio Exilim S3 Camera

Lost in the wash at the hotel
UK SIM card

Big pound value in losses, but frankly I don't care as I survived.

I will no doubt dissect this day further in a later post, but I have been writing it about 4 hours and it's late now.

The obvious big lesson is to watch the local weather forecast or ask a local. I was well prepared for cold or a normal rain shower, but ill prepared for what hit me.

Stay calm (easy to say I know).

Always have an exact compass bearing to use as a backup.

Waterproof liner for rucksack.

I can thank my fitness; any less fit and I may now have made it to the road.

Perhaps most crucial was my Aquapac. A waterproof bag that my PDA/GPS was in. It enabled me to use the PDA with GPS and get myself to safety. All my other electronics were destroyed by the rain, only the kit in the Aquapac survived. Highly recomended.

No doubt there are other lessons I learned, but it's late and I’m tired.

I'll post up the rest of the weeks story tomorrow, and over the next couple of days. There are more tales to tell.

Tenerife Day 1: Preparation day

2007-12-26T21:41:00.000Z

I arrived on the island on Sunday evening, picked up a rental car, and my sister met me and showed me the way to the apartment. I did little more than go straight to bed. The following day I first gathered a few necessary supplies; cooking fuel tablets and a lighter, plus two 1.5l bottles of water. I tried out my live tracking with my phone and GPS. It worked, but was temperamental connecting to Vodafone back home. Despite my best attempts I was unable to get my uk phone unlocked for a Spanish SIM in time for the trip. So, I would be stuck with using my UK SIM.

Next I made a trip up to the centre of the Island to Teide National Park. It's about a 50km drive from sea level at the coast, to the plateau just over 2000M. The weather was fine; not a cloud in the sky, but at that altitude it was of course much cooler than on the coast (where it was 24C). I stopped off firstly at the foot of the Veijo volcano, which is half way down West side of the Teide Volcano. This would be my descent on day 2 and I was keen to see what the terrain was like. It struck me as much steeper than Google Earth shows, but I almost expected it I think. Google Earth never seems to show just how steep a slope is. I asked a park ranger about the area and she told me than climbing Veijo was one of the toughest climbs on the island. Less than Teide with approx 1000M gain, but it was steep and the path wasn't great. I asked about a descent form Teide. She estimated 7-8 hours because of what she called 'badlands'; a difficult surface to walk on, very rocky and broken up. Before arriving I had estimated 4 hours for the descent, so this would perhaps have changed my plans. That said, I would have been running (where possible) and not walking, so maybe 4 hours would have been realistic. I've marked the placed I stopped on this map; STOP1.

I got back in the car and drove down from the Teide plateau about 10km to a recreation and camping areas called Las Lajas. It is on one of the main roads coming up from the coast, way past the towns of Arona and Vilaflor for those who know the island a little. I've marked this STOP2 on the map. I had read that this recreation area had a restaurant, and was surprised to find that it was open, even in winter. Las Lajas would be my half-way stage on day 1. I stopped and had a coffee and then decided to hedge my bets about it being open the following day and so bought 4 x 250ml bottles of water and a snickers bar (as a treat!) and then ran about half a mile up the nearby Mountain de Las Lajas and there secreted them away and marked the location on my PDA (GPS on). So, at least I would have some fresh water the next day even if the place was closed. I ran back down the mountain to the car and literally drove round the corner and parked again. On the map you will see a thick blue line near STOP2. This was the route (there and back) that I was going to reccie that afternoon. I was concerned about a description in a guide book about a narrow shelf hovering over a thousand foot drop, and wanted to see if I dared tackle it the following day, or change my route for that section.

I strapped on my backpack, which I only packed with essentials, plus waterproof jacket, gloves and hat etc, as well as plenty of water. It was only perhaps 5kg, the lightest pack I would sport all week. The route is shown below. Green x is the car, red x is where I stopped and returned. The yellow markers are the 'dangerous' section.

Part of the route from another angle.

The return route was a little over 5 miles, but gained 350M (1150ft), so it would be a taxing reccie, and not a gentle stroll! The start of the route was virtually invisible. A single white arrow chalked on a rock about 10M off the road. If you did not know it was there (or lacked GPS) you would never find it. I should at this point state that this is typical for Tenerife. Unlike the UK, where there are signposts on every footpath way marks and stiles etc, there are practically none in Tenerife. There are a handful of easy tourist trails that are well signposted, but that is it. For the rest, you are relying on past trekkers having left little chalk marks, or painted white or green spots on rocks, or maybe little cairns (a pyramid of 3 of 4 little rocks in Tenerife) to mark the footpath. It is all too easy to get lost and you frequently backtrack to pick up the right path in some places. As it happened the past trekkers on this route had done a good job, and the route was well way-marked with these 'signs'. I had no trouble following the path. This photo I took illustrating the easy path to follow.

All the paths are rough in Tenerife; just different grades of rough. What you see above is almost the best it ever gets. Everything else is much rougher; bigger rocks, boulders etc. What struck me as I walked, quite steeply up at times, through the pine trees was that the bottom 3 or 4 metres was burned. My sister had told me (and it was on international news) that forest fires had swept through the island. This area had got off reasonably lightly, but practically every tree was scorched.

Eventually I made my way past the huge round mountain called 'the Sombrero' on that Google Earth shot and up onto the ridge of Las Canadas mountain range. The north face of the ridge is steep to sheer cliff, whereas the south side is just very steep to less steep. This photo was taken from that ridgeline. If you look closely (near the bottom of the shot) you can make out a road than runs horizontally, a thousand feet below.

Dominating that photo is of course the Volcano Teide. The volcano Veijo is the bulge half way down the left hand side, 600M lower than the summit. What is funny is that the Volcano doesn't look steep from that angle. You'll just have to take my word for it that it is!

I ran and walked along the ridgeline at intervals, depending on the terrain keeping an eye on my GPS as I approached the feared 'dangerous section'. Abruptly the path vanished into an almost sheer wall of rock. At the top of the rock was an arrow pointing up through a narrow gap. To the left was the sheer drop straight down.

To try and give some perspective here is a shot of the whole ridgeline I took a few days later. This section was about half way along it (top to bottom; a thousand feet remember)

Now I understood and immediately didn't like the look at it and scanned around for a way around on the south side of the ridge. It appeared I wasn't the first the think it as someone had way marked a path, at least for 30M or so, past this section. The route meant descending off the ridge on a very picky boulder strewn path, through some thick undergrowth. Abruptly the way marks vanished and I was left to find my own way back up. This meant climbing on all fours, carefully at times, and eventually emerging perhaps 100m past the dangerous section back at the top of the ridgeline. This was quite an exhausting and lengthy detour to pass such as small section, but I understood why now. I ran on for another 1/4 mile before deciding that was far enough, and I had met my objective for that section.

I made my way back, but as I reached the area where I would detour down bravado got the better of me and I thought I would just take a close look at the dangerous section, from the return direction. I made my way forward and was on a narrow ridgeline. The drop to the south: maybe on 5M sheer, but an awful lot longer on the north (my right). It certainly was not 1000ft straight down, as the guidebook authors had made out (that was the drop to the canyon floor where the road is), but it was certainly a drop that would seriously injure or kill, and certainly one that it would be impossible to climb back up from. After about 50M I got to the hard section. As described in the book, you had to step out and down onto a narrow (6 inch) shelf and edge along it about 6ft, before climbing back up and over the rocks, then climbing down that almost sheer wall that I had faced on the approach. Now I was there it didn't look quite as bad as I expected, and the sheer drop was not visible as you lowered yourself down on the shelf. You would have to look behind you and down to see it. I'm not rock climber, but even I fancied this section if nothing else than to face down a fear of heights. Sporting the backpack was somewhat of a hindrance, but I figured I would manage it.

I remembered watching TV about rock climbing and one of the golden rules is that you always have 3 points of contact with the rock, moving only one limb at a time. I followed it to the letter as you can imagine. I lowered myself down onto the shelf, clinging to the rock on my left. I didn't once look down (in case I got struck with vertigo), and edged across without any issue and climbed back up. I managed to lower myself back down the face on the other side, using a slightly different and safer route than the one suggested. I was pleased with myself for tackling it, but wondered if the following day with a pack weighing in at almost 12kilos at 3 times the bulk if I would do the same, or play safe? I had proved to myself I could do it, but a big wide pack would counter-balance me more, and would increase the risk factor massively. I pondered on it as I ran along the ridgeline and headed back to the car. It had taken me about an hour and a half to get to the half way stage that day, but barely 40 minutes to run back down to the car. I managed to get the car almost stuck in a ditch (no nice lay-by to park in), and had to use some ingenuity to stop the wheels spinning in the dust and eventually get it back on the road. I was driving a dinky little Hyundai Getz; a few horse power less than I am used to!

I next drove to what would be my campsite for day 2; the day of the Teide ascent/descent (via Veijo). This time the recreation area had no restaurant, no facilities (apart from BBQ stands!). It did have a few water taps, which I had confirmed from my sister were no good from drinking from. This was a blow, and would mean I would have to stock up and carry more water on the ascent to Teide, to ensure sufficient for that night and into the following afternoon. I had one small water bottle that I stowed behind a rock, and cursed that I had not brought more with me in case of this eventuality. Still, it was not a major hurdle.

I made my way back down to the coast and the apartment. I packed my 30l Raidlight rucksack, and 5l front pack (my new Raidlight Evolution pack was not even close to getting a look in here; far too tiny!). It was absolutely cram-packed full once my tent and sleeping bag/roll-may were inside, as well as my extra clothes, waterproofs, cooking equipment and provisions for 3 days (inc 3 litres of water for first day). It was so crammed full I was forced to store some items in the webbing on the outside of the rucksack (Helly Hansen top, hat, gloves etc). The Raidlight pack was bursting at the zips. I put it on. Wow, was it heavy. I had never carried, let alone trained with, a pack of this weight before. I knew I would be at least 11 kilos when I was advance-planning, but this was more. I don't have a precise weight, but I'm sure it was 12k at least. Not only the weight, but the bulk meant that it was twice my little body-frames' width. I must have looked stupid carrying it! I did take a photo of it, but the pic was sadly lost as you will read later. I timed sunset that evening. It was 18:15, not 17:05 like a website had told me. Serves me right for believing what I read. However, it said sunrise was at 06:45. It was actually at 07:45. So, right amount of daylight, just time-shifted one hour.

I laid out my clothes for the following day, and set my alarm clock an hour later. At least I would get an extra hour in bed! I then went out for a meal with my Sister and her boyfriend at a lovely Italian (always thinking carbs me) in La Caleta, near Adeje. I got to bed around midnight. Before I drifted of I thought the day had gone well; the reccie was a success. It looked like all my hard work and meticulous planning was going to pay off. I had no idea that the following day would almost very nearly be my last.

Rich vs the volcano

2007-12-21T20:40:00.000Z

It happened today. Find out who came off worst when I get back home on Monday!

Tenerife update

2007-12-20T22:35:00.000Z

The storm has meant that the camping part of my trip is over. The first day was my springboard to the centre of the island where the highest altitude routes are found. Now in order to reach them, I have to drive. I don´t see any point pitching my tent next to my car, so I am settling for day trips.

Very briefly, today I went to see if I could attempt the Volcano Summit. As I aproached it becameobvious that this was going to be unlikely. The rain storm I was in at 2000M was an ice and snow storm higher. The Volcano and peaks are all covered in snow. I picked up a disposable camera and took shots, I´ll post when I get home. The park rangers told me not to climb Teide becuase the north face wa covered in snow and ice. As if to make a point, the rescue helipcopter was heading up there. Summit access has impossible anyway, as the cable car was closed, so none of the workers would be up there. The snow and ice looks like it´s there for the season now, so I am gutted to have missed the opportunity by a couple of days, but am thankful I wasn´t on the ascent when the ice storm came.

I did two peaks today instead, one at 2700M in the Las Canadas moutain range. There was lots of snow underfoot but manageable. I walked up and ran down, with full pack. Then I drove back down to the coast and did a 1000M peak (400M gain). I was short of daylight, so I did the last peak without my pack, running there and back to ensure I made it back to the car before sunset. All gone well today, really good training. I feel tired and have demolished a huge meal at a restaurant this evening. Tomorrow I am planning another full day with plenty of ascent. Here are a couple of photos from the digital camera that got destroyed. The memory card was ok, but I only took a few photos before the rain started. Enjoy them. and compare them to the shots I will post back homeform today. Here you see no snow, the ones I took today, just one day later and it´s a whole different picture. Taken from the top of the mountain range (2500M) opposite the Volcano, the day before the storm.

A very good path hereon the way up to that mountain range. Very few are this easy to follow. The last photo my camera took. Taken from the point on the live-tracking map where it will be forever frozen. This is a little deceptive. It looks cloudy but this was not the actual storm front that hit me about 2 hours later.

Finally, a video I took on my reccie day, from the same spot as the first photo.

Into a storm

2007-12-19T09:48:00.000Z

Live blogging is over I´m afraid.

I did say that if my icon on the map below didn´t move, or I didn´t update at least once a day that was probably bad. It was. Unknown to me an ´Orange, Severe weather warning´ ( Which appears to mean 30L of water per square metre expected, according to a report a couple of months ago) was given out the night before I set off. Today I found out that this was the same storm-front that caused the recent ice-storm havoc in the USA. Anyway, I knew none of this, setting off blissfully unaware.

I´ll post the story when I got back. After 2 hours of fine weather the Island experienced the worst weather in 2 years and I was in the centre at 2000M in the middle, not underneath, of the raincloud. Waterproofing eventually failed, I got very cold, turned around in almost zero visibility. Through a combination of fitness, determination, good judgement, and luck, I got to my half way stage; a road. I eventually managed to flag down a passing car of 2 old German tourists. After that by some luck, half-remembered knowledge, and the help of several strangers exactly the right sequence of events took place to sort me out.

Counting the cost:
1 Mobile phone - Destroyed
Enlish SIM - Lost
1 PDA - Destroyed
Camera - Destroyed
Timex Watch - Lost
Timex GPS - Lost
Compression Top - Lost
Noth Face fleece - Lost
Windstopper Glove - Lost

I´m underselling the story deliberately so my family don´t stress. They know I´m safe and in perfect health. My Sister, who lives here, picked me up. I´m at her house now. I´ll give you the full details when I get back.

The weather is as bad again today, the rest of the week looks ok. Some of the items listed as lost may get returned to me (dropped on floor of German peoples hire car I hope). If they do I may be able to pick up my training schedule, with some modifications. No more live updates as that equipment is destroyed. I´ll post up again when I get home, it´ll be worth a read.

Tenerife Live: December 18th - 22nd 2007.

2007-12-16T00:19:00.000Z

map loading...

Assuming the Spanish mobile network plays nice I am hoping to live blog my trip. I suggest you choose 'Satellite' view of the map above, because I will be in wilderness most of the time whilst in Tenerife. You can click on the man icon for timestamp/speed information. I will probably set my phone to update my no more than once per hour, starting at dawn on the 18th December. The reason for this is that mobile internet usage abroad costs £10 per Mb; likely to be minimum 50p per update! If at all possible I will send some photos too, but they may be fairly low resolution! At worst I'll try and send a text update just to let you and family know that I am fine and well. I know for certain that some areas have no mobile coverage whatsoever; namely on Mount Teide itself, which I climb on Wednesday. I expect to be in a total comms blackout from 10am to possible 4pm. It's possible I could get an update out in between, but no promises. I should be able to update at the end of the day worst case scenario, because I should be in an area with mobile coverage. If there is no update, that's probably not good. I am doing this totally alone, and because of the altitude and routes, there are risks of course. I'm pretty sensible so I won't do anything too stupid! I'm a runner not a climber after all.

I am hoping to 'reccie' some of the route and potential campsites the day before I set off. I hope this will confirm water availability, mobile phone coverage and in one case if I should pick a totally different route for part of the first day, due to one small section being excessively dangerous.

My previous blog post has the week's itinerary, in addition to the rest of the month, so you can see which days I should be active.

Training Plan December 07 to January 08

2007-12-16T00:08:00.000Z

Above is my next 4 weeks training plan, seeing me through into the New Year. My first week, as you can see, is spent training in Tenerife (I get on the plane tomorrow). It's a heavy mileage and heavy packweight week. I then get a couple of lighter weeks, with an LDWA event on the 5th January; The Hebden. It's 22 miles with around 4000ft of ascent. However, I'm hoping that will feel like a walk in the park after the Tenerife training where I will be doing more ascent than than in the first 10k of the first day!

I've not yet entered it, but the week after is a 15 mile trig point race at Cannock (no fixed route; point to point). I entered last year, not knowing what to expect. I arrived late, unfit after 2 months off through injury, didn't realise the only checkpoint only carried water, and basically hit the wall before half way around. I crawled around the second half of the route, ending up taking a little over 3 hours. Ihad to beg water off passers by, ended on the floor with the most severe cramping I have ever experienced, and generally did very badly! I feel I should revisit it and redeem myself this year, but I'll see how I feel during that week.

After I get back from Tenerife I'll post up a summary of the year and how it has gone for me.

Tenerife training preview

2007-12-10T22:39:00.000Z

I'm still getting over the aches from Saturdays Round Rotherham event, but this Sunday I fly to Tenerife for a weeks solo training. I arrive on Sunday night, and will spend Monday making final preparations and collecting essential items such as solid fuel cooking tablets for the trip (banned from planes of course).

I then plan to do a 3 day, 2 night camping expedition from Adeje near the coast, at 200M above sea level, eventually up to the Volcano, Mount Teide at 3714 (the highest mountain in Spain), and then make the return trip. I have applied for, and received a 'summit permit', allowing me to go to the very peak of the volcano. Such permits are tightly controlled, limited to a certain amount per day and you must show your passport as well as the pass. Most make the initial 3550M of the ascent (the last 160M is on foot) by the cable car of course.

I have heavily researched as much of the route as I can, but there are a lot of unknown factors. The temperature on the coast will be probably mid 20's in the day, but on the crater plateau at 2000M above sea level (where I will camp), the daytime temperature will be at best 15C (probably less) and about 5C at night. If that wasn't bad enough, the temperature on top of Mount Teide will be around -20 with wind chill. So, I am looking at a massive temperature range to deal with and pack for.

The best maps that exist are 50,000k, so they are not very detailed. Practically no footpaths have signs, and you pick your way through the terrain, occasionally happening upon a chalked arrow or a little pile of stacked rocks (cairn) to indicate the path, but more often that not there is very little to help guide you. You are simply following a faint trail. It's easy to go wrong and I did frequently on my last trip there in March. Last time I stuck to established routes that were still hard to follow. This time I am making my own paths in some sections; completely cross country, hopefully guided by sat nav or compass as a backup.

On day 1 I will start from Adeje and ascend on a path that I used during my last visit. About 5 miles into the route I will then strike due north following no path, until I hit a road about 5 miles later. That first leg of day 1 sounds straightforward doesn't it? Well, in those first 10 miles I gain 2000M (6500ft) in elevation. That should lead me to a recreation area where I hope to top up my water before heading East, gaining a further 500M and walking the ridgeline of a spectacular range of mountains called Las Canadas (actually an ancient volcano crater rim)for about 3 miles.

This is a shot of Las Canadas, in the background.

http://flickr.com/photos/curreyuk/1798518603/

I will be walking along the very top, left to right. I'm more than a little apprehensive about this ridge walk. It does appear on maps, but this is an extract from one author's guidebook about the scariest section of the route.

"David suffers a little vertigo moment. To reach the waymark involves lowering yourself onto a narrow rock shelf than overhangs the drop into the crater, edging across the shelf and then backup up onto the rim. We look at it, then pick our way amongst boulders trying to find an easier way, which there isn't. The thought of giving up and returning is only marginally less appealing than dangling over a thousand foot drop." -Taken from Walk Tenerife by Ros and David Brawn.

Now, I'm not good with heights at all. I'm the kind of person who would edge to a cliff on their stomach if forced to look over. I would then descend to sea level and hug the ground. Why on earth I have picked this route I don't know. Well, I do know, it's all about facing your fears, but travelling alone I wonder if I may be biting off more than I can chew with that section. All I can do is take a look and if I don't fancy it, backtrack and take an extended detour (big mileage). The weather could also decide it, if there is a significant wind. However, I'm not quitting without looking because I don't like failing at anything.
Here's a Google earth shot of the ridgeline you can click to enlarge, which obviously does it no justice in terms of scale. Use it in conjunction with that web link above and imagine high and steep.

Assume I manage to traverse the ridgeline I then cut south and join a well established path called the Lunar Passage due to the nature of the geology. If you have never been you'll love the photo's I promise you. I then head north a few more miles and make camp anywhere I deem suitable for the night. I should cover about 20 miles. An easy distance in the UK, but factor in over 3000M of ascent and it should have me on my knees by the end of the day.

I should mention also that the sun rises about 7am and sets at 5pm, so I don't have a lot of daylight to play with. I will realistically need to be making camp at 4pm. Only 9 hours each day and at times I know I will average less than 1mph due to the steepness of the climbs. I hope I can pick up the pace when on the flat.

I will set off at dawn on Day 2. I would love to set off before dawn but it is just too dangerous. I first head north again, over the Las Canadas ridge at 2500M and straight down following a very steep zigzag path to the crater plateau at 2200M. From there I head along an established path in the direction of Teide itself. I will stop off at the cable car station and refill my water, before then heading to the East of the Volcano and join the path to the summit. I made an attempt at the summit with my father in March , but lack of time and snow meant we called a halt at the mountain refuge hut at 3250M, rested, then returned. The route goes up the east side of the mountain past a smaller mountain called Montagne Blanca before suddenly becomming very steep on the approach to (and beyond) the mountain refuge. This section will be very slow indeed.

I didn't suffer from any altitude sickness last time, up to 3250M; in fact I can’t say I even noticed the difference in the oxygen level. This time however, I will be going all the way to the cable car station around 3550M then using my Summit pass and walking up the final 160M to the very top. Here the oxygen level is 50% of sea level and it will be very cold indeed, so I won't stay long. By this stage I will have travelled around 14 miles and gained around 2000M in total. By summit pass is from valid from 1pm to 3pm, but I must try and arrive much earlier and hope they allow me through. After the summit I then plan to descent by the West slope, past the Veijo volcano crater which is supposed to be better than Teide's, but little visited. This descent is another real unknown for me. I have no idea how long it will take me to descend the 7 miles to the plateau, and then onwards a further 4 miles to my Camp 2 (an actual campsite). You are not allowed to camp on the Volcano, and who would be stupid enough to anyway? It's -20 and there are sulphurous gasses seeping out all over the place. So, I must hope to make the summit before midday I guess, then make the next 11 miles in descent in 4 hours in time before darkness.

That day is my most ambitious. Hikers usually take the cable car up and walk down via the refuge, or walk up and cable car down. I may be being foolish to think I can cover 24 miles including the 3700M summit and descent in a single day. I can only play it by ear. If the ascent takes longer that expected with no possibility of me making a decent in daylight I would have to ride the cable car down and probably make a random camp for the night somewhere.

Assuming day 2 goes to plan, I will be at a campsite with water and set off at dawn for a 20 mile return route to Adeje. The final sting in the tail is a part of the route which the authors title "Wow Spectacular to Adeje". The route is down a narrow donkey trail that borders Barranca Del Inferno and Barranca Del Fuente, two very deep ravines. I happened upon one by taking a wrong turn in March. You can see from this youtube video I took that I'm not keen on heights. It's a 1000ft down off that edge. This time I will be on the opposite side of the ravine, on a path that no longer exists. The original path has fallen away. All maps have removed the route, but the authors of this book I have say that it is possible to pass using a "section of the narrow old canal where a protruding rock threatens to tip you over the abyss". The more I read that, the less I like the sounds of it. They go on to say "We quite understand if you turn back at this point", and suggest returning by what would have been my starting route on day 1 of this trip. Here is another Google Earth shot of that small section. The ravines shown are 1000ft deep and the blue line is my GPS plotted route.

So, I do have a get-out, but it would mean more mileage on top of the 20 planned for day 3. It is all descent that day of course, so this could be a tough day on my legs as well. That tricky section is but a few miles off the finish, so if I am tired or the light is failing then it may not be worth the risk. But you know I will have a look don't you?

Assuming that’s all a success I am back to sleeping in the apartment. I will take the next day off, and then do a 20 mile session along those similar Adeje Mountain trails the day after. The final day, 23rd December, will be spent Christmas shopping. Apparently people still expect presents off me, despite this MDS training schedule? I think everyone might be getting volcanic rock for Christmas this year.

I arrive home just after midnight on Christmas Eve. I'm giving myself Christmas Eve off, but treating myself to a Christmas Day run, because would you believe it the gym is closed ;-) ?

I hope to live blog my trip, but I can't promise it because I'm not sure if the mobile phone network will support what I need it to, or indeed if I will get any signal in some of these areas. I know you can't get a signal climbing Teide; I remember from last time. I will try and post an update via my mobile to let you know I am alive and well. If I do get the live tracking up and running I will only set it to update my location every now and again (hourly perhaps, if I get a signal) because Vodafone tell me GPRS use there is £10 a megabyte!

My pack is going to be n0 less than 10kg incidentally, including tent and water etc. I have a feeling, given the climbing, I will be doing a lot of walking and not so much running. That said with 9 hours of available daylight I will have to be moving quite fast.

I will post up my story over the Christmas period. I’m looking forward to this, but nervous at the same time.

EDIT: I'll try and post up before I go away (Saturday more than likely) with a few details from this week, and hopefully a live-blog link for the trip.

The Round Rotherham

2007-12-09T22:23:00.001Z

Subtitle: Saved by the Godfather.

If you read my previous blog post you'll know that I decided to turn this event into a full dress rehearsal for the MDS long day. In the end, by the time I had added walking poles (which I didn't use at all), my PDA's, phone (these are not going to the MDS of course) and a few other bits and pieces, the pack was just short of 7kg. I drove to Sheffield on Friday night and stayed at my uncle's house. I got up at 5:30am and ate my MDS breakfast, which was not far off 1000Kcal. I drove to Wath upon Dearne and registered ready for the 7am start. There were a lot of runners there, and the walkers had set off an hour earlier. I won't know the actual number of starters sure until they post the full results, but they had around 280 people registered and 15 dropped out in advance. It's probably reasonably safe to assume somewhere in the region of 250 started I guess. I said hello to a couple of friends from La Trans Aq in June; Anne and Vaughan. Both superb runners, who were looking for a sub 9 hour finish this year (they did in 8:55, well done you two!).

I had seen the weather forecast (wet and cold) and was wearing my Raidlight winter gear; thick, lined, runner tights and long sleeve top with polar neck. I wore a warm hat, but had decided on my woollen running gloves instead of my big heavy wind stopper ones. The reason for this is that my hands usually warm up fast and I lack dexterity to use my PDA/GPS with big gloves on. I wore a Pertex ultra-lightweight windproof jacket over the top. I had a waterproof jacket packed in my rucksack, but decided against taking an extra fleece and additional thermal base layer, thinking what I was wearing was already over the top (you can see the punch line coming already can't you).

Can I just apologise for there being no photos. You will know by now my event reports are usually littered with pictures. I took a couple; one of which was a nice shot of dawn, but it didn't come out. The other picture just wasn't interesting enough to post. The weather wasn't camera-phone friendly.

The route is shown below along with the hill profile. You can see it's not that hilly, varying between 50ft and 480ft. Memory Map indicates it has 3140ft of ascent, someone on the Fell Runners Association website says his Garmin logged it at 52 miles (I think that is too much; maybe 51 at the most) and 8500ft of climbing, which I assume means around 4250ft of ascent. I suspect the actual amount is somewhere in between, but either way, no serious steep hills, just long drawn out gradients at times.

We set off in the dark at 7am, head torches lit. Everyone dashed off like scalded cats, leaving me running on my own after just 100yrds. A guy was filming the start a few hundred metres away, and he had stopped filming what he thought was the last person by the time I went past! I ran at what I felt was my most efficient pace with that weight pack, which when I checked my GPS was around 4.8mph. I can just gauge now what pace I will be able to maintain, almost running with the most minimal effort to conserve energy. I was after all not exactly a competitor with my pack, complete with sleeping bag and roll mat slung underneath!

Within a few minutes I had lost sight of everyone, leaving me alone in the darkness pondering the 50 miles ahead. For the first 10 miles, up to checkpoint 1, the route was either on good quality paths, or pavement beside the road. I guess it would have been about 8 or 9 miles in when I started to catch a few people up. It's hard to tell who is a runner and who is a walker as in winter most are dressed the same. Just on approach to CP1 I caught up 4 people who were actually running; two of which were wearing Raidlight gear, and one of whom had a Raidlight pack. At the CP one of them introduced himself to me a member of the www.themds.co.uk forum. The chap with the Raidlight pack was his friend and a veteran of the 2007 MDS. I ran with these people for the next 5 or 6 miles, chatting away about the MDS. We all were being sensible and walking any ascent. We all knew the importance of running our own race and so we drifted apart in various directions on the way to checkpoint 2, around mile 17.

It was already getting colder, but the rain started and by the time I reached CP2 my windproof jacket was wet and crying out to be changed before the rain soaked through. I took it off and put on my full waterproof jacket, and pulled up the hood over my hat; just my eyes exposed. Up to that point my pace had been steady and sensible and averaged about 4.7mph. Rather annoyingly, at the CP, the brand new batteries I bought for my speed/distance Timex GPS had run out, just 3.5 hours old; Thanks for that Ever Ready; serves me right for not buying Duracell (12 hours life usually)! So I was now without the ability to know how many miles I had done, or how fast I was going. Not knowing how far I had gone was probably a blessing in disguise, so I wasn't slowly watching the miles tick up, but not knowing how fast I was going was very annoying and screwed with my game plan. I would just have to be extra careful to ensure I took it easy. I had not spent much time at CP1, perhaps 5 minutes, and not much more at CP2, so it was all going well and on track for what I hoped would be a 4mph average 12.5 hour finish.

The Yorkshire weather had other plans for me though. The rain at CP2 got worse and the wind picked up, giving a sub zero wind-chill. The forecast had said -2, but it felt colder to everyone out there. After CP2 the terrain got more difficult, made more challenging by the rain plus wet weather over the last few days. We crossed lots of ploughed fields with footpaths through the middle. This kind of mud cakes to my feet and gives me lead boots. You have to get to the other side of the fields, stop, and wipe it all off. All of the open farmland meant that the wind cut right through you and I felt seriously cold, chilled to the bone. I needed more layers but had none. I wasn't sure I could continue without more clothes. I arrived at checkpoint 3, at 25 miles, which was mercifully an indoor checkpoint (the last two were outdoor). It was overcrowded and people were quitting there and then because of the cold. Some were woefully under prepared with no waterproof or even windproof clothes. One young guy was in a T-Shirt and tracksuit trousers; needless to say he quit.

I sat down trying to get some warmth back inside me. My woollen gloves were soaked through, and even though I had then started running with them inside the sleeves of my waterproof jacket, my hands were frozen. I had to get one of the helpers at the checkpoint to unclip my rucksack as my hands would not work! My feet had been wet for miles and damage was starting. I tried to apply tape but it would not stick to my wet feet. I managed to get some to stay, but not enough in the areas I really needed it. I had eaten just my Peperami until then, around 15 miles, and was only at 25 beginning to feel hungry. So, I guess my 1000kcal breakfast worked well. I ate 100g (half) of my cashew nuts. Physically I felt fine, no tiredness, just cold. I spent about 20 minutes at that CP sorting myself out and heating myself up. By the time I left my leg muscles had cooled down and this made me feel even colder as I began the next leg of the race, to CP4.

The weather didn't let up; if anything it got worse. Everyone was cold, wet and miserable. I caught two of the 'Raidlight people' and soon after was caught up by a chap called Jamie who I had passed walking with a group of his friends at mile 14. His friends had all abandoned at CP3, leaving him alone. He is in training for The Bob Graham Round next year. Google it, if you don't know what it is, and be impressed. We both ran together to CP4, at mile 30. I did not realise, but CP4 was the 'drop bag location' where everyone had a bag ready which could include anything; a change of clothes, socks, shoes and waterproofs, food etc. I had not read about this, but in truth would not have made use of the facility anyway. There are no drop bags in the sand dunes in Morocco! So, the lucky ones put on new clothes and I looked on enviously.

I got a phone call from my uncle whilst at the CP. He happened to be fairly nearby on his way back from work and said he'd drop and give me some moral support. I gave him directions and waited for his arrival. I had said before the event I wanted only to eat the food I packed. However, I was so cold, I had already resigned myself to some hot tea and extra food to offset the calories required for me to heat myself. My uncle arrived and produced a hot chocolate! I didn't last very long, and went down very well indeed. He had also bought me a sandwich which I ate as well.

I explained how cold I was and that I doubted if I could manage without more clothes. He said he thought he had a fleece in his boot. The word 'Fleece' sounded like 'you've won an all expenses trip to the Seychelles' at this point in time. He went to his car and retrieved it. He had to take off my rucksack due to my useless hands'. In fact he basically dressed me because I could not grip a zip either. I looked at my gloves and said 'I think I have some gloves in the car too', which sounded like 'Oh, and you get £1000 spending money in the Seychelles too' to my ears. He came back with a full on, big thick pair of ski gloves and helped me into them. It must have been like dressing a doll with my useless fingers. Jamie joked that he could do with wiping my nose for me as well. I was too grateful to feel silly.

Now, I felt like I was dressed for the next 20 miles. I could not thank my Uncle enough. He's my Godfather incidentally, in case you wondered about the blog post subtitle.

I had spent about half an hour at that CP in total; so already an hour lost at CP's, mainly getting warm. My average speed plan was in tatters, but in the end I just wanted to finish.

Me and Jamie set off from CP4 and soon turned into yet another endless muddy field crossing. I swear If I never see another muddy field again it will be too soon. We ran, walked, waded, slipped and slided our way across these fields at all sorts of paces; mostly slowly! After a couple of miles I got indigestion, due to running after the sandwiches (serves me right!) and was forced to walk for a while, Jamie ran off ahead. I caught up to a 67 year old guy who was walking in his 16th Round Rotherham, and a veteran of nineteen 100 milers. Hats off to him, hope I am capable of the same at that age. I walked with his group until CP 5(he obviously knew the way well of course, so I could ease off my navigation). At CP5 (about 35 miles maybe) I had to swap my PDA battery for a fresh one and as a result spent 10 minutes there; once again left on my own as the others left.

It was dark by now, so I fitted my head torch on again and set off. You guessed it over another extended field crossing. Physically I felt good, but the water bottle across my chest had started to give me some abdominal pain around the 35 mile mark. I could live with it for the time being (but ended up moving the bottle to my backpack at 40 miles), so I set off at a run and caught up the veteran walker and his party. I passed them and soon after caught up Jamie and the two people he was now with, Ian and Michelle, just before CP6 at 40 miles. By this stage the weather had improved. The rain had stopped, the wind was lower and it felt much warmer. I was still feeling remarkably good at this point. Yes things were aching, and I knew I had blisters, but I felt as though the end was in sight. We all made a very brief stop at the CP for refreshment, a few minutes maybe, then headed straight off. All 4 of us were first timers to the RR50. Initially we ran/walked in our pairs (me and Jamie, Ian and Michelle), leap-frogging each other every mile until about the 45 mile stage where I think we all decided we'd just get each other through the race and stick together. It was dark, and four people navigation and giving moral support was excellent. The terrain was still grim; just more muddy fields, which none of us were happy about. Muddy fields in the dark aren’t easy to run or walk on, even with head torches. By this stage there was very little in the way of running going on anyway.

We all arrived together at the final CP, 7, at 47 miles and had a welcome cup of hot tea. We maybe spent almost 10 minutes there and set off walking. Could I have mustered a run? At a push, probably, but there was nothing to be gained at this stage. I was more than happy to walk with these three nice people I'd met and chat the final few miles away. I was tired and I wondered if my feet lay in ruins within my sodden wet shoes. Despite the promise of 'good paths' for the last 3 miles, by the people at CP, they were still fairly muddy! We all got to the finish and thanked each other for the support. It had taken me well over an hour outside my estimate, taking me 13:45 in total. I've now found out 254 people started. I came in 156. In total 209 people finished, and 45 people abandonded.

I dropped my rucksack to the ground and sat on a chair gratefully. I took off my shoes, but not my socks fearing the worst. I hobbled over and got a tray of shepherds pie, mushy peas and gravy which I shovelled into my mouth at pace. Big thanks to all the organisers and caterers for the event. Everyone at the checkpoints deserves big thanks, especially the outdoor ones!

I sat and chatted to a few people for about half an hour, picked up my gear and hobbled over to the car, got changed and drove home arriving about 11pm. I took off my socks, fearing the worst, but my feet looked in remarkably good condition. I have two very small blisters on the side of toes on my left foot, and none whatsoever on my right foot. Underneath the ball of my left foot is sore where I had tried to apply tape. I think some dirt had stuck to the residue of the tape and rubbed it by the looks of it; that's what was causing me a lot of discomfort in that foot. My right ankle had been painful for the last 8 miles and it was not much of a surprise to see that there was some swelling there. I filed and moisturised my feet, as has become an almost nightly routine for me now.

I had seized up during the drive home and thought I would never be able to walk the following day. I took an ibuprofen and went to bed. I slept for 10.5 hours. Today, well I'm not up to running, but I can walk. I have a few aches a pains, and my quads are a little stiff. My ankle really isn't too bad now either. I got off pretty easy I think.

The event and my performance: It was another 'character builder'. You have highs and lows in long events. You feel rough as anything one mile, then perfectly fine a mile later. You feel like quitting but you keep putting one foot in front of the other and carry on. Eventually the finish line finds you. I have now done the 'MDS long day' distance with the same pack weight I will have for the evnt itself. I suffered with the cold here, I will suffer with the heat there. I slipped, slided and cursed through mud here, and I will do the same through sand there. I hope today was an accurate comparison, in terms of the mental determination, required to finish the MDS long stage.

Now the best punch line: Here I am cursing the weather and terrain for my performance. The overall winner completed in 6:17, just 4 seconds off the all-time course record, and over an hour ahead of everyone else.

I am a Liliputian, looking up at Brobdingnagians.