Marathon des Sables - Final Report!

The Race Finish of the Marathon des Sables had something of a carnival
atmosphere to it. The finish line itself was surrounded by photographers,
organisers, runners families and supporters and local townspeople, all
cheering the victorious runners home. Patrick Bauer, the Race Director,
makes it his duty each year to hug and congratulate each runner personally
as they arrive at their final destination. When I crossed the line I was
surprised at how emotional the poor guy was, clearly overwhelmed by the
spectacle of so many runners having accomplished this magnificent challenge
he had set. In my rusty French I thanked him for organising such a great
race and stumbled off towards the recovery tent, taking my last bottle of
water from a nearby marshal and having my water ration card punched for the
last time.

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The recovery tent was the size of a small marquee and was littered with
collapsed bodies of exhausted runners seeking shade from the now baking sun.
The temperature was similar to that of the previous two days, that is about
45+ degrees. Thinking there would be no room for me amongst the sprawled
runners I was offered some shade by a wall next to two young HAC soldiers,
Charlie and Adam, both of whom I had seen along the race route at various
times. I was relieved to see friendly faces and share mutual
congratulations. They had both had excellent finishes and seemed equally
elated to have finished.

Soon after, Charlie Myers, one of my tent mates, yelled at me from over by
the tent.. he had seen me and found a space on the floor in the tent with Al
Hay, Tom Lawley and Dan Truman, the other tent-mates who had already
arrived. We swapped stories of our finishes .. Dan and Tom had had a
desperate last minute 200 metre sprint home each trying to beat the other,
Tom swearing it was the fastest he had ever run. A few feet away I saw Neil
Price with whom I had done the 51 mile day sitting down with his tent-mates
Pierre Molyneux and Paul Scully, all of whom had done excellent times
throughout the week.

I was delighted to see Andy Peek, my Kiwi friend, who crossed the line a few
minutes later, his feet now severely blistered from his week's horrors. Ben
Williams, a personal training client of mine came in shortly afterwards
looking far too fresh and enthusiastic for someone who had just covered 150
miles of the Sahara. But he was grinning from ear to ear and understandably
delighted with his success. I was both pleased and relieved to see him
finish as I had to bear some of the responsibility for his being here. "Do
you really think I could do the Marathon des Sables?" he had asked me a year
ago. "Yeahhh..no problem" I had replied a bit too casually, not expecting
him to phone me a day later to tell me that that was it, he'd booked, paid
the deposit and was definitely going. He'd had several injury worries in
training, but his resolve and energy kept him on track so it was doubly
satisfying to see him in such good form.

Just as I was growing a little concerned at Charlotte's non-appearance, I
saw her in the distance, accompanying Mark Hanson, our other tent-mate, to
the end. Mark had suffered horribly with foot trauma, and looked in a very
rough way. But he had developed a habit of this over the last two days, and
I had come to know him as a man who would probably march until he dropped,
pick himself up again and keep on going regardless until the bitter end. He
would have crawled on his hands and knees to finish. His incredible effort
in the face of so much pain was awesome... I respected his courage and
determination enormously. Charlotte had gone with him to provide moral
support, despite her own chronic foot trauma and had exceeded even my own
high expectations of her. It was a truly magnificent performance and I
couldn't help being very very proud. I was also extremely relieved. As I
may have mentioned before, we have a family rule. If you don't finish a
race then you have to go back next year and do it properly. Harsh rule, but
quite an incentive to keep going to the very end. Charlotte's finishing
meant we wouldn't have to be back next year.

By now the day was nearing the hottest part and there were still several
runners not back. The last few kilometres would be mighty hard because of
the heat, so it was great to see some more friends approaching the finish
together, John Hunt, who was celebrating his 60th in style this year, Kevyn
Steel, a wedding magazine publisher from Essex, Beth Wright, Charlotte's
training partner, and Louise Port, who had been one of my tent mates in 1998
when I first ran the race. They had spent most of the week running/marching
together and the team spirit shone through.. it was inspiring to see them
all finish.

As the tent gradually filled up with more runners, I noticed a few more
familiar faces. Aki, the young Bristol medical student, hobbled in to the
finish and collapsed, exhausted and suffering on to a cushion in the tent,
surrounded by tent-mates and other supportive runners. Despite his
increasingly shocking foot trauma he had survived and had succeeded in
raising thousands for his charity. Kat Birtwistle, who had been very strong
all week, had suffered an ankle injury during the marathon day the day
before. A doctor from the Doc Trotter team told her he would have pulled her
out of the race if it hadn't been the last day. Again, in acute pain, she
bravely marched on to a good finish. Nathan Leslie, another injured runner
with a damaged knee completed the course with his brother, Cameron. Their
brotherly support had been evident all week and was heartening to witness.
Despite the odds they had always managed to remain cheerful and positive,
attributes I am sure contributed greatly to their success.

Charlotte, Mark, Andy and I headed to the buses to return to Ouarzazate and
the luxurious five star Berbere Palace Hotel. After 8 days without washing,
showers would be as welcome to us as to anyone within whiffing distance of
us.

The remainder of the weekend was spent at the hotel recovering, eating fine
food, sleeping, sitting at tables around the pool, or chatting in the bar.
It was a good wind-down before returning to the UK. Personally I am more in
favour of a quick exit after a race, preferring to get home as soon as
possible. But this was part of the package so I made the most of my time at
the hotel. On Monday we departed early for our 3 and a half hour flight
back to London.

Reflecting on the MdS two days later I find myself attempting to work out
why we all do it. The ultra thing. There is no single answer, and I am
sure most runners would provide a variety of reasons. There is one thing I
am fairly sure of. We are not masochists. Nor do I believe we subject
ourselves to this race as a form of punishment.

Some will cite charitable fundraising as a principal reason and to those
runners I have the utmost respect. True, in the past I have raised money for
charity or helped others to do that. But that?s not my primary motivator.

Some value the competitive aspect, relishing the prospect of testing their
stamina, strength and fitness against those of others. Unfortunately I?m
too lazy and too slow to categorise myself amongst those.

Many will offer by way of explanation the sense of achievement. And I doubt
any finisher would ever deny they felt they had accomplished something truly
amazing.

For me there are elements of some of the above, but these reasons don't
adequately answer my own question to myself which is...Why do I keep doing
these races?... During the MdS this time I became aware of what other runners
were experiencing, not just myself. It seems to me that every runner who
competes faces enormous challenges, physically, mentally and
environmentally. The environmental challenges speak for themselves, the
harshest terrain imaginable coupled with extremes of temperature and
extremely basic living conditions. Physically, the race takes a severe
toll, whether it be through foot trauma, acute blistering, aching muscles,
injured joints and tendons or exhaustion. And last, mentally the challenge
seems to get progressively harder through the week. Initial enthusiasm and
determination can give way all too soon to renewed assessment of the
challenge, disillusionment, anguish, apprehension, fear, low morale,
humiliation and loss of dignity. I know I have experienced all of these at
some point in the past during races. But it is in facing these difficulties
and finding the resources in themselves with which to confront and overcome
them that competitors seem to discover something which is so incredibly
admirable; courage, resolve, toughness, emotional strength, humour and
compassion for others around them, and probably in greater quantities than
they have experienced in years, if ever. What inspires me is having the
privilege of being in their company. It's quite intoxicating. And I think
this is what draws me back time after time and I hope it will continue to do
so for the foreseeable future.

I would like to thank all those runners who so generously gave me their time
during the race and who shared with me their stories, blisters, humour and
courage. It was a real privilege to meet you all and one I will remember
for a long time to come. Until our paths cross again, I wish you the best
of luck and thank you all?.

Runners: When I was logging into my Father's web pages honoring him and his friends the French Legionnaires I saw
your faces...and it was about a Marathon
in the Sands of the Sahara Dessert.

You are right...that is a horrible place.

Ask any Legionnaire about their training....and they will tell you that they too get pushed to the limits of human fitness.

When you want to take a break take a look at Father's site and leave a message on the My Guest Book...and let me know that way how you are for that day in the Sahara.

Have a successful day.

Celine