I've been speaking with Best of Morocco today, who administer the British MdS contingent.
I'm at position 83 on the Wait-list. Broadly, if you're in the top-100 of the Wait-list when it closes you're very likely going to Morocco (so many drop out over time due to injury, lack of training or funds, or come to their senses) but a Confirmed-list slot is unlikely to come up until the 2011 MdS has been and gone. Which also means it's perhaps not a great idea to neglect the training build-up in the meantime.
Of the 230-or so Brits who do the MdS each year, only around 20 are doing it for the second time or more. That says something!
Thursday, 11 June 2009
Wednesday, 10 June 2009
Marathon des Sables: deposit paid and onto the Wait-list . . .
I've never been one to exercise or train for the sake of doing it and I need a challenge to get out of the door. To "lose weight" or "keep fit" is just too tenuous.
We've recently come back from a family holiday in the heat of Majorca. Sat sweating in the shade of mid-30Cs I recalled something about an extreme footrace held every year in the desert: the Marathon des Sables. I thought to myself: how do those people run that in heat such as this?
I'd read snippets about it in the past but always quickly dismissed it as falling in the "Beyond Comprehension" category: too hot and too difficult.
But is the Marathon des Sables the challenge I now need? Painting the fences today in a rare UK heatwave I found those three words in my head again.
Leaving the fences half-finished I took to the internet.
Reading various blogs and articles I began to appreciate the pure difficulty of training for, let alone completing, this event.
Importantly I could feel the signals I'd been looking for and hadn't felt for a long time: adrenalin, a sense that this was a challenge for which it might not actually be possible to reach the end of a training programme, let alone complete.
Dubbed "the toughest footrace on Earth", each year the Marathon des Sables allows 850 entrants from across the world to run, walk or crawl 150 miles (240km) across the Moroccan Sahara in 7 days in temperatures of between 30C and 50C during the day with night temperatures that can drop as low as 5C.
Days 1 to 3 are usually between 18 and 24 miles each, with day 4 being the dreaded 50-54 miler; day 5 might be a rest day if you're lucky enough to have the energy to finish 50-54 miles in one go and finish at some point in the dark of the early hours, or it's a hard slog to get back to the bivouac within the 34-hour time limit after a sleep in the desert; day 6 is a 26.2 mile marathon, with day 7 being a half-marathon sprint (!) to the finish . . . if you get that far.
The race is entirely self-sufficient: strict regulations state the compulsory equipment and personal belongings of each competitor (food, survival equipment, sleeping equipment and cooking utensils and fuel) should weigh between 6.5kg (1st) and 15kg (2st5lb), all of which must be carried across those 150 miles.
This weight does not include the water dispensed to each competitor each day; each competitor gets the same daily allowance of around 10 litres of water, dependent on the difficulty of that day's stage.
A tent without a back or front is each night's "accommodation", along with a stony desert floor . . . and scorpions who may take refuge in nice warm training shoes and sleeping bags (hence, I guess, the need for the obligatory anti-venom pump). Camel spiders might also present a problem: there's a lot of myth around camel spiders (but, even so, I don't particularly want to come across one in my sleeping bag!) and the facts about them can be seen at this link. If you're squeamish, don't pay a visit!
Amazingly the Confirmed-list places have already gone for 2010, 2011 and 2012 (they disappear within a day of the list opening) leaving only Wait-list places available for 2012. Apparently this is unusual: historically, the Wait-list places have gone within a month of the Confirmed-list having opened in February.
So what better way to address being 15st 4lb, having Achilles tendons that don't work and counteracting The Desk?
"Confirmation of Order": I have received an email confirming my Wait-list place on the Marathon des Sables for April 2012, a little under three years away.
That leaves plenty of time to worry about it!
I ran my first marathon in 1997 and the next five years saw me run another 11 marathon or longer distances, never having the short, slight runner's frame to keep doing it without injury. This period included running 81 miles around and around a 400 metre track for 24 hours, a few 6 hour track races and completing a couple of Ironman triathlons (2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, 26.2 mile marathon run) along the way.
I certainly lost weight in this time, but never saw it below a consistent 13st4lb, and that was after a 27 mile run!
Working life got in the way and, having battered myself for 5 years, tight, tired tendons and muscles meant I did next to nothing after 2002.
In 2005 I came out of "retirement" to attempt and complete my third (and "Definitely my last!") Ironman triathlon in my slowest time: the result of being desk-bound, long commuting hours and a poor diet . . . A personal best 2.4 mile swim was followed by a slow 112 mile bike and 26.2 mile run: a one inch gash on my foot picked up from exiting the lake swim didn't help, creating a very bloody, squidgy mess around the rest of the course! I did not look pretty after finishing that marathon in the dark, hobbling along the closed dual carriageway in squidgy agony towards midnight and a fast approaching 17 hour cut-off time . . .
Still, I completed my third Ironman but after that exercise was pretty much non-existent. The weight came on, as did some chronic tightening of my Achilles, lower back pain, etc. etc!
Still, I completed my third Ironman but after that exercise was pretty much non-existent. The weight came on, as did some chronic tightening of my Achilles, lower back pain, etc. etc!
We've recently come back from a family holiday in the heat of Majorca. Sat sweating in the shade of mid-30Cs I recalled something about an extreme footrace held every year in the desert: the Marathon des Sables. I thought to myself: how do those people run that in heat such as this?
I'd read snippets about it in the past but always quickly dismissed it as falling in the "Beyond Comprehension" category: too hot and too difficult.
But is the Marathon des Sables the challenge I now need? Painting the fences today in a rare UK heatwave I found those three words in my head again.
Leaving the fences half-finished I took to the internet.
Reading various blogs and articles I began to appreciate the pure difficulty of training for, let alone completing, this event.
Importantly I could feel the signals I'd been looking for and hadn't felt for a long time: adrenalin, a sense that this was a challenge for which it might not actually be possible to reach the end of a training programme, let alone complete.
Dubbed "the toughest footrace on Earth", each year the Marathon des Sables allows 850 entrants from across the world to run, walk or crawl 150 miles (240km) across the Moroccan Sahara in 7 days in temperatures of between 30C and 50C during the day with night temperatures that can drop as low as 5C.
Days 1 to 3 are usually between 18 and 24 miles each, with day 4 being the dreaded 50-54 miler; day 5 might be a rest day if you're lucky enough to have the energy to finish 50-54 miles in one go and finish at some point in the dark of the early hours, or it's a hard slog to get back to the bivouac within the 34-hour time limit after a sleep in the desert; day 6 is a 26.2 mile marathon, with day 7 being a half-marathon sprint (!) to the finish . . . if you get that far.
The race is entirely self-sufficient: strict regulations state the compulsory equipment and personal belongings of each competitor (food, survival equipment, sleeping equipment and cooking utensils and fuel) should weigh between 6.5kg (1st) and 15kg (2st5lb), all of which must be carried across those 150 miles.
This weight does not include the water dispensed to each competitor each day; each competitor gets the same daily allowance of around 10 litres of water, dependent on the difficulty of that day's stage.
A tent without a back or front is each night's "accommodation", along with a stony desert floor . . . and scorpions who may take refuge in nice warm training shoes and sleeping bags (hence, I guess, the need for the obligatory anti-venom pump). Camel spiders might also present a problem: there's a lot of myth around camel spiders (but, even so, I don't particularly want to come across one in my sleeping bag!) and the facts about them can be seen at this link. If you're squeamish, don't pay a visit!
Amazingly the Confirmed-list places have already gone for 2010, 2011 and 2012 (they disappear within a day of the list opening) leaving only Wait-list places available for 2012. Apparently this is unusual: historically, the Wait-list places have gone within a month of the Confirmed-list having opened in February.
So what better way to address being 15st 4lb, having Achilles tendons that don't work and counteracting The Desk?
"Confirmation of Order": I have received an email confirming my Wait-list place on the Marathon des Sables for April 2012, a little under three years away.
That leaves plenty of time to worry about it!
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