I awoke on Day Two feeling in reasonable condition considering the effort expended on Day One. I would like to think this was down to the amount of preparation I had put into the event, certainly my body was fairly used to running long distances for several days in succession. Alternatively some kind of desert induced delirium was setting in, which was probably equally likely. Anyway the day started with another battle with 150g of granola, after which I taped the sorer parts of my feet and got my shoes and socks on.
I wasn’t expecting to finish as highly placed on Day Two as I had on Day One. This wasn’t just due to my natural caution about my ability but down to the fact that although longer (41km), Stage 2 appeared to favour faster runners. I'm a good steady plodder but speed work had been almost entirely absent from my training for several months.
Day Two started in a similar fashion to Day One. We didn't have to form a giant ‘29’ but ‘Happy Birthday’. ‘Happy’ and the course briefing were much the same. The highlight was the reading out of the Top 10 from Day One. Danny Kendall was in an incredible 5th place and received by far the loudest cheer of the morning. Danny is not only a great British athlete he is also an absolutely top bloke who has gave me much useful advice during my preparation and totally deserves the respect and affection of his fellow runners.
We set off to Patrick’s countdown, ‘Highway to Hell’, and the low flying helicopter, across a plateau and into some ‘dunettes’. I think as far as most competitors were concerned by now sand was sand, and suggesting we were crossing dunettes rather than full blown dunes wasn't really helping.
A plateau gave way to an area of camel grass and ‘sand mounds’ (how many ways can you avoid saying ‘dune’?) which mercifully only lasted for a few hundred metres up to Checkpoint One. CP1 to CP2 took us along dirt tracks and across stony plateaus – and of course a few ‘sandy valleys’ and ‘dunettes’. CP2 to CP3 was a similar story. At CP3 Patrick Bauer was waiting to greet us. Whether you like it or not (and not everyone does) Patrick is the MDS. Personally, whilst I could have lived without some of his longer speeches and the ‘Happy’ dance every day, I think the MDS benefits massively from his very visible presence, it gives the event personality and uniqueness. He was more than happy to pose with me for a quick selfie (is it still a ‘selfie’ if there are two of you in the picture?) before I set off again.
‘Setting off again’ wasn't quite the rapid, dynamic event I would have liked it to have been due to the fact that El Abeth Jebel was immediately behind CP3. It was only a 15% gradient but the slope was composed of stones and predominantly - you guessed - sand. However once at the top things got much better since, as well as a great view, the descent was through soft sand that could be run/jumped down with little effort and much enjoyment. Surprisingly some people were very cautious on sandy descents and spent quite a lot of time and effort descending. Quite possibly they were right and I was risking injury but I felt, rightly or wrongly, that the worst that was likely to happen was a loss of dignity if I ended up sliding down a slope on my backside.
After that the terrain was increasingly stony but for once not sandy. A slightly hilly area led to the bivouac, which as Day One could be seen from several kilometres out. The terrain became less stony on the run into the bivouac and so I was determined to keep running all the way to the finish line. It was at this point my head and body began having an argument:
HEAD: ‘We’re running to the finish’
BODY: ‘We don’t feel well’
HEAD: ‘Shut up, we are running’
BODY: ‘If you don’t stop running we’ll poo ourselves’
HEAD: ‘Tough, keep running’
As a result when I crossed the line and got my cup of mint tea I couldn't decide whether to find some shade and drink my tea (no shade to be found), go to the toilet (I didn't have a poo bag) or get my water (my hands were full with my cup of tea). As a result I spent several minutes walking round in circles heading to the toilet, then the water point, then back towards the finish until I had drunk my tea, my stomach had settled and I was in a position to collect my water ration and go back to the tent.
As I said previously, I wasn’t expecting to do as well on Day Two; however I completed the 41km in 6 hours 4 minutes and 47 seconds to finish in 231st place on the day, moving me up to 227th overall! This was particularly pleasing as it proved I could at least hold my own on the faster stages and I hadn't burnt myself out on Day One. I couldn't be too complacent though as there were still three more days of competitive running and we had covered less than one third of the total race distance.
So how was Day Two? To me it felt harder than Day One. It was less sandy, certainly there were no dune climbs anything like those of Day One, but it felt hotter. It was definitely further and I ran faster. The fact I finished higher suggests I may well have expended more energy; it was the only day where I finished feeling less than 100% and with a slight degree of confusion. I felt much better very quickly after I stopped but it’s an indication that I was probably pushing myself very hard.
My feet were starting to suffer, especially the left one. Two days of running across sloping sand was causing the skin to shear apart. Possibly I should have gone to Doc Trotters but I felt I wanted to be in control of how my feet were treated so I cleaned, disinfected and taped them myself. This is no slight on the abilities of the doctors and nurses of the Doc Trotters organisation, they did an excellent job on some of my tent mates’ feet, I simply felt that while I could deal with my problems I should - and I couldn't be bothered to queue. OK, it was mainly the queuing thing.
According to the road book, dunes (dunettes, mounds, sandy valleys) would make up most of tomorrow’s stage - how would my feet like that?
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