The Marathon Des Sables - Admin Day

I fully intend to write a complete account of my MDS experience; however this will take a number of months and span many, many pages. I will try and write a slightly shorter account of the event for my blog for those that don’t want to wait or don’t want to waste too much of their life reading about my antics in the desert.

The first thing that struck me about the Marathon Des Sables is just how big it is. The official website describes it thus:

• 130 volunteers on the course itself,

• 450 support staff overall,

• 120 000 litres of mineral water,

• 300 Berber and Saharan tents,

• 120 all-terrain vehicles,

• 2 “Ecureuil” helicopter and 1 “Cessna” plane,

• 8 “MDS special” commercial planes,

• 25 buses,

• 4 camels,

• 1 incinerator lorry for burning waste,

• 4 quads to ensure environment and safety on race,

• 52 medical staff,

• 6.5 kms of Elastoplast, 2 700 Compeed, 19 000 compresses,

• 6 000 painkillers, 150 litres of disinfectant,

• 1 editing bus, 5 cameras, 1 satellite image station,

• 10 satellite telephones, 30 computers, fax and internet,

• A touch of madness...

The only figures there that I'm not sure about are the number of camels, I only saw two, and the ‘touch of madness’, I'm fairly sure it takes more than a touch to enter this event.

However even knowing all this before I went didn't prepare me for the size of the camp when we arrived. It did mean that we had quite a walk around the ring of tents before we found a vacant lot. The camp is arranged in the same way every day so tents near to the ‘entrance’ are at a premium as they will be nearest the finish. One of the many ‘amusing’ little points of the MDS is that after running 35 – 80km you are immediately given 3 bottles (4.5 litres) of water to stagger back to your tent with. If you complete day 4 (the long stage) after the morning water distribution for Day 5 (the ‘rest’ day) you may be lucky enough to be presented with 6 bottles to carry back with you.

One of the most, if not the most,  impressive parts of the whole event is the way the entire camp is dismantled, moved up to 80km and entirely rebuilt every day. The competitors sleep in what are called ‘Berber Tents’. These consist of a piece of thick black cloth held up by 2 poles at each side in the centre, with shorter poles and steel pegs creating low ‘walls’ at either end. The tents are open front and back, although it is possible to partly close them if you are brave enough to remove one of the central pole supports. On the floor is a carpet, red and black or yellow and black – it varies day to day. Eight people sleep in each tent, generally aligned front to back or vice-versa dependent (in our case) on which way we thought the wind would blow each night. The Berbers also don’t bother to wait for you to get up each morning; the tents are dismantled around you. They do however leave the carpet until everyone is off it, although if you are taking too long your final preparations will be done under the gaze of a couple of impatient Berbers. This is fair enough considering the vast logistical exercise of moving the camp, there is no time to allow a thousand people to slowly get up and get packed before the tents start to come down.

The eight people you share a tent with can have a huge effect on your MDS experience and I was lucky that I had already arranged to be part of a great group of six other guys and one very tolerant woman.

Admin Day Dawns…

In many ways I was more worried about Admin Day than actually running the MDS. The reason for this was simply that the MDS has a fairly extensive set of rules. However I think the British find them slightly difficult as many of them are not quantified – how big a knife? How much topical disinfectant? How do we prove we have the right number of calories per day? Then of course there was the whole issue of getting the medical certificate signed off and having an ECG signed and stamped exactly as required. Get any of this wrong and you could find yourself starting with a two hour time penalty. However…

The elite runners have specific times to go for their checks and will be fully scrutinised both at the start of the race and at the end of every stage. For those of us in the masses a full check is far less likely – although not impossible. Certainly for me the checks were minimal. I had signed a list of mandatory equipment to confirm I had it and listed my calories per day. The official asked to see my road book, inquired as to the weight of my pack (6.8kg – well it was when I packed it in the UK) and the weight of my food (3.8kg) and that was my equipment check. My form was counter signed and I went on to the medical check.

My medical check was similarly brief, I think if you can stand in the midday sun for 2 hours in the queue for the admin checks you are probably deemed fit to run. My medical consisted of a brief glance at my signed form and ECG followed by the questions ‘Have you done this before?’ Answer, ‘no’ and ‘but you are quite fit, yes?’ Answer, ‘yes.’ I was rewarded with another signature on my form and a small plastic bag of tablets that would have had me answering some very awkward questions if I was found with them at the V-Festival but were actually salt tablets. We were told to take two per bottle of water, going up to four after 5 hours of running. I took them fairly well as directed and had no hydration problems. Given the amount of salt that was encrusted in my running gear and pack by the end I suspect I would not have had such a good time if I had neglected to take the tablets.

In addition I was given a water card to be clipped when I took each ration of water, a transponder, a medical card, a ‘ski pass’ style holder for the water card and a flare. I was given them in that order, which meant by the time I collected the holder for the water card I’d already lost the card because I put it down when I attached the transponder to my ankle so it could be checked…

Anyway I seemed to pass all the checks and managed to hang on to all my kit for long enough to present my fully signed form to the officials giving out the all-important race numbers. The Marathon Des Sables isn't generally considered an educational event but in the course of getting my number (which also has the competitor’s first name on it) I learned that in France ‘Colin’ is both a champagne and a fish.

It was now all very real – I had handed in my travel bag so everything I had for the impending adventure across the Sahara was either in my pack or on my body. We would be served one more meal that evening before we had to be entirely self-sufficient the next day and head out into the biggest sand dunes in Morocco!

Time to go!

I started this blog nearly 10 months ago. Some of you have followed me from my first post, others I've picked up along the way. Hopefully you have all enjoyed being part of my journey, which is now reaching its final destination.

I've divided, weighed, labelled and packed - mostly in that order - all my food into packs for each day so that my heat addled brain won't have to work out complicated logic problems such as 'if it's Tuesday and I've run 27 miles, how many Peperamis can I have with my Spaghetti Bolognaise?' It even all fits in my pack - just. I finally bought a cigarette lighter - it's a compulsory kit item and one that is so easy to obtain I decided to wait until just before the shops shut on the day before I travel to buy one. My medical certificate and ECG are hopefully signed and dated to a standard that will satisfy the French race officials, a 200 Euro 'fine' and a 2 hour time penalty would not be a start to my MdS that I would chose.

I could go on for pages with details of all the other things I've been doing as part of my final preparation, and if this was normal blog entry I probably would. However the main reason for writing is to say thank you to all those of you that have travelled on this journey with me and to promise you that you will find out how it ends. I will certainly write some of it in my blog, I even have a vague idea that I might fill the void left by MdS planning by writing a book about it, who knows. The support I've had and the words of encouragement have undoubtedly made a difference and hopefully some of you will continue to support me in the desert. 'How can we do that?' I hear you ask. Well direct from the MdS website...

Go to the website and follow the instructions. 

http://www.marathondessables.com

section "write to competitors"

After 11 april, this email service will no longer be operational.

Only messages with surname (HARPER), first name (COLIN) and race ID number (641) will be transferred.

Do not send attachments (e.g. photos). This will cancel the message. Messages will be given to competitors on the bivouac every day. Note: AOI cannot transfer messages posted on Facebook, Twitter,...

Obviously I added my name and race number - if that was on the website I'd get everyone's messages which would be confusing and very time consuming to read. 

What it doesn't say is that the 'write to competitors' section probably won't be there until sometime Sunday so if you can't find it try again later. Any messages you send will be printed out and given to me each evening and much appreciated.

I always try and acknowledge those people that have supported me on races, be they event organisers, marshals or fellow competitors. However I'm going to save the last word before I go for the one person without whom I would never have made it this far.

Sharon, thanks for all you support, for the endless discussions about kit, food and strategy, for running with me, for arranging holidays around training, for washing endless running kit, for not complaining when I covered the kitchen in mud and most of all for just always being there no matter what - thank you, I love you.

Right, it really is time to go - bye!

The Final Countdown...

Before I go any further with this blog entry I will apologise in advance if its even less coherent than usual. Hopefully you will understand that with barely a week to go until I fly to Morocco I'm a bit preoccupied at the moment! however given the level of support I've had from some of the readers of my blog I feel it would be wrong to simply abandon you now - anyway I promised I'd tell you about Fuerteventura...

So what is there to tell about Fuerteventura? Well the journey there went fairly smoothly - apart from having to queue up twice to drop our bags off as we were 'too early' the first time! You can book an airport lounge for three hours but Easyjet won't take your bag until two and a half hours before the flight departs... Anyway as we'd been to Feurteventura before we knew exactly what we were doing and where we were going this time - which is why it only took two attempts to get out of the airport car park. We had asked the hotel for a room a near as possible to the same as the one we stayed in before - they obliged by giving us the room next door to the one we stayed in before. This was only slightly disconcerting as it was identical but a mirror image. However we coped and even more surprisingly didn't ever try and get in the wrong room.

As I like to be prepared for the 'worst case scenario' I decided I would try my full MdS kit on the sand dunes on day one. The reasoning being that if I injured myself, contracted the plague or got arrested and didn't run again then at least I would have fulfilled one aim of the trip (I'm not calling it a holiday - no matter how many cocktails I had). A 16 mile run over the dunes left me with no sand in my shoes and, whilst I still wasn't sure it was worth the money, the X-bionic clothing seemed to be comfortable and wicked sweat away very competently. I did get a blister on the arch of my foot due to my new shoes needing a little wearing in however it was annoying rather than debilitating so I still considered the test an unqualified success.

 Whilst looking for running routes in Fuerteventura on the web, I had discovered that there was an allegedly well marked path from Corralejo (where we were staying) all the way down the island to Morro Jable in the south. It also passed through the volcanoes near Corralejo, which we hadn't got round to visiting on our previous trip. So for the day two  run a jog out to the volcanoes, a bit of a walk/jog around and up them, and around the general area for a bit of a sightseeing expedition all sounded like quite a nice idea. Sharon wisely decided she would go back to the hotel after this and leave me to improvise a slightly longer run. I followed GR131 (the path) to the next town, Lajares, and - rather than turn round and go back - I had this vague idea that I could run to the next town on the coast, El Cortillo, from where I had run to Corralejo on my previous trip. This was a fine idea except that El Cortillo was further away than I expected it to be and hence by the time I returned to the hotel I had run 33 miles since I'd left it that morning. As a result I decided that a quick 10 miles before breakfast would do for the next day and I'd have the rest of the day off.

The trip to the volcanoes and on to Lajares, had shown me that there was another way back to Corralejo round the other side of the volcanoes, which opened up the possibility of if not a circular route then at least one that wasn't simply there and back. By being a bit vague about how far it was and with the promise of a Coke when we got to Lajares I persuaded Sharon that we were going to run this together. I really enjoyed it, Sharon enjoyed the Coke and she didn't kill me so I think she was secretly very pleased to find she could run 17 miles in a day and actually enjoy at least some of it!

By now I had slightly revised my training plan and thought I was going to start reducing the mileage as the trip progressed, however I still had 3 fairly hard runs planned...

The first plan was to follow GR131 a bit further. As I'd run the section to Lajares a couple of times Sharon dropped me there and agreed to pick me up a few hours later at Tefia, around 18 miles further down the trail. Obviously I got lost but it wasn't entirely my fault - in my eyes anyway. I was very keen to avoid three large dogs that were barking at me noisily - so keen in fact that I didn't stop to wonder if the path they were on was the one I should have taken... 

Anyway after an unscheduled tour of Villa Verde I found the road to La Oliva where I was able to pick up GR131 again. The second detour doesn't count as lost because I knew I was going the wrong way, it was just that the arrow painted on the lamppost could be construed as pointing in any direction but the one I was meant to go. On my third trip back to said lamppost a helpful local pointed me in the right direction (and told me how to pronounce Tefia - Te-FEE-a, apparently).

From there on it was all fairly straightforward, I had some incredible open countryside between the mountains to run in, often without any sign (apart from the trail) of civilisation. I only had one dog incident on the way and met up with Sharon about half an hour later than I said I would in Tefia - which doesn't even appear to have a shop. Twenty miles for the day and one of the best days running I've had in a long while.

The next day was back to the dunes for the ultimate kit test! I had been running so far with my pack slightly weighted with two litres of water (which came in very handy on my 33 mile run!). Today I was going with 6 litres for a total pack weight of around 7kg plus a litre and a half of water in my drinking bottles. This was about what I expect my starting weight on Day One of the MdS to be. Full MdS clothing was worn and a 16 mile dune and beach run undertaken to really test out my equipment and get a feel for what I was in for on the MdS. The result of this run was that I may need to consider putting some tape on my back to avoid  rucksack rubbing - although better weight distribution may help - its hard to 'distribute' three bottles of water in a pack. It also made me more determined than ever that my pack will be as light as I can make it...

The last big 'effort' run would be a jog/stagger/walk to the top of Pico de la Zarza, the highest point on Fuerteventura. This was a challenging day, although the biggest challenge was finding the start of the path! Eventually we found our way to the start and set off up. The climb varied from 'joggable' to 'I'm going to walk this bit' and took a fairly long route to the summit through far more greenery than is found on the more northerly parts of Fuerteventura. All in all a nice climb - even if the top was in cloud and so we had no views. Predictably the trip down was quite a bit quicker and we had time to see the sights of Morro Jable before we went back to Corralejo. For anyone that remembers my blog post about my previous Fuerteventura trip, yes, some of those sights were German sausage!

My final runs were along the coast to El Cortillo and another early morning run so we could relax on our last day. In nine days I ran nearly 147 miles, got a sun tan and gained a lot of confidence in my kit.

Since then I've not run too much as I managed to bring a cold back with me - I still reckon its a better souvenir than a wicker donkey though. The last of my food should arrive tomorrow, I'm intending to pay a visit to the lovely people at Racekit over the weekend for a few last odds and ends and then I should be ready! My main preoccupation at the moment is heat acclimatisation - the general consensus is that  it is a very good thing. I don't have the time to go to a proper heat chamber, however a few heaters and an exercise bike have allowed me to turn the bathroom into a forty degree plus torture chamber that should serve the purpose and allow me to get nicely acclimatised.

So here we are! Barely a week to go until I leave. Hopefully I will have time to write one last short entry before I go but for now I'm off to decide how much toilet paper I will need....

St. Peter's Way Ultra

Those of you that have followed my journey since last October will know my first ultra-marathon was an epic two day affair around the coast of Essex, the Saltmarsh 75. It seemed appropriate then that my final ultra-marathon before the MdS would also be in Essex. The event was to be the St. Peter's Way Ultra (you might have guessed that from the title of the blog post), which finishes at St. Peter's Chapel near Bradwell-on-Sea. This was also nice too as the Saltmarsh 75 passed St. Peter's Chapel and it was at this point that I entered new territory in terms of running distance on the Saltmarsh as I went past 26.2 miles.

The St. Peter's Way Ultra would also be my longest ever single run, as it was claimed to be 45 miles. The main reason for me running this event was as a practice run for the MdS 'Long Day' and so I decided to do it as close to MdS style as possible, I took my own food based on my current MdS food list for Day 4 - including a sachet of the infamous 'Peronin' - and weighted my pack to 4.5kg, roughly what I would expect it to weigh by that point in the MdS. Of course there were some things I couldn't quite simulate - early March in Essex was always going to be colder than early April in the Sahara, and it wasn't quite as dry underfoot as I'm expecting in Morocco either. However on the plus side the mud would at least give my legs a good workout and help prepare them for trudging through the sand dunes.

Anyway Ian Brazier, who first appeared in my blog as the anonymous 'Tent Man' on Day One of the Saltmarsh 75, was 'tail running' for the event. For those that don't know it means it was his job - along with Darren Coates, who used to have a reputation as the most often lost ultra-runner in Essex until I took up ultras - to run at the back of the field to keep everyone inside the cut-off time and make sure that no one is unaccounted for. It's actually quite a tough job as you can't run at your pace and it was fairly certain they would finish well after dark. People like me that just go out and run ultras should be very grateful to people like Ian and Darren and all the checkpoint crews and marshals as they are usually volunteers that have given up their time so we can have a bit of fun - and I am, which is why I always try and give them a mention in my blogs. Ian had kindly agreed a to give me a lift to the start in Chipping Ongar and so at 6:30 on a Sunday morning I piled myself, my pack and some clean clothes for the end into his car and soon found myself in slightly damp car park next to Chipping Ongar library. I registered, put the tag on my drop bag and pinned my number on. At XNRG events I pin my number onto my pack but Challenge Running - the organisers of the SPW Ultra - prefer you to have your number on your front to make life a bit easier for the marshals as you come into checkpoints. My philosophy is simple, if you don't like the rules don't enter the event and so I had no problem with the concept of putting my number on my front. The practice was slightly more challenging... I didn't want to put pins through my waterproof obviously, I didn't want to pin it to my top because then I'd have to open my jacket at each checkpoint which would involve undoing my pack straps, so I went for the popular option of pinning it to my running tights. By the third attempt it was the right way up and not pinned to my leg so I decided to quit while I was ahead.

Earlier in the week I had had some communication via Facebook with a couple of fellow MdS'ers that would be at SPW. I decided to seek them out - quite easy as they had the 'official' MdS pack made by WAA. Ollie and Rory turned out to be a couple of students at Edinburgh University  but from the Essex/Suffolk area. They are really nice enthusiastic guys and very excited as this was their first ultra. They also had a combined age less than mine...

After a short briefing and pep talk we were off! After a little while I found myself running in a group of very entertaining people, none of whose names I caught apart from Ollie and Rory. Slightly ahead I spotted a man carrying a very full Raidlight pack with twin water bottles on the front. I caught up with him and, as my almost Sherlock Holmes-like powers of deduction had lead me to surmise, he confirmed he too was running MdS 2014 and he was called Scott. I should make it clear I had only deduced the MdS bit, Sherlock Holmes may have been able to work out he was called Scott but that's beyond me, I only do elementary deduction. We all trailed through the mud together and most of us mostly went the right way.

At Checkpoint Two, Rory and Ollie decided to have a five minute stop. I decided to break out the Peronin and see what that tasted like. With the help of one of the many very helpful marshals I managed to get it into my bottle and she even shook it up for me. As I was ready to leave I set out on my own - possibly a mistake as I was now entirely responsible for my own navigation and regular readers will know that's not a good thing... Actually I quite enjoyed having to find my own way and even stopped to photograph mud, a quick 'selfie' and a vineyard. Of course navigation was helped by the fact that Kevin, another great member of the ultra-running community, had sent me a link to the GPS file from his previous years run after I had failed to download the one provided by the organisers to my watch - a combination of my ineptitude and an old GPS device I think, nothing actually wrong with the organisers file. Anyway the main thing was that I now had no excuse for straying off course...

By now I was quite enjoying myself, the weather was good, my feet couldn't get any more wet and muddy so that was OK, and even the Peronin wasn't too revolting - in fact the nutrition was working out fairly well.  By checkpoint 4 with over 30 miles done I was feeling quietly confident - I wasn't going to get a great time as 4.5kg on my back and an often slippery running surface (did I mention it was muddy?) would prevent that, but I was confident of finishing in fairly good order. I was even happier when I was told I only had 8.2 miles to go! After correcting for the section where I'd accidentally switched my watch off this meant that according to me I'd cover less than 43 miles - the first time I've ever done less than the advertised distance for an ultra. I was so impressed I tried to eat a bar to celebrate. Numb fingers and plastic wrappers don't really go together so once again I was grateful for the assistance of one of the marshals who kindly unwrapped said bar for me - at least cold fingers shouldn't be a problem on the MdS.

Of course I couldn't complete an ultra with no diversions, even with a GPS route, and this one was no exception. The instructions were to run across the field and go down the left hand side of the ditch. The GPS did tell me I was off course but I ignored it as obviously there is some leeway simply crossing a field - until you realise you have ended up at the other side very much on the right hand side of the ditch, which is also now in front of you. New instruction to self - run back following ditch until you can get onto the other side of it...

After that however even I couldn't get lost as it was a run down to the sea wall and a revisit of a very small part of the Saltmarsh 75 route up to St. Peter's Chapel and the finish. This part of the run was fantastic as I could see the finish and had a very strong tailwind pushing me along. I completed the event in 8 hours 50 minutes and ran 42.5 miles, which got me 37th place. I did it with my MdS pack fuelled by my MdS food,  and so all in all a good run and a good confidence boost. I was also very pleased to see Scott come in only 10 minutes behind me (and he had 7kg in his pack) followed by Ollie and Rory a further 20 minutes behind - a good day for all the 2014 MdS'ers I think!

As I said earlier I like to acknowledge the efforts of the organisers and the volunteers at these events so I'd like to say thanks to Lindley Chambers and all at Challenge Running plus the army of volunteers for a very well organised and extremely friendly event. Challenge Running specialise in events around Hertfordshire and Essex so I hope to run some more of their races after the MdS, speaking of which....

It's less than 5 weeks until I get onto the plane to Morocco! Am I ready? I think I am! I've got my kit, I'm in good shape and I've got 10 days in Fuerteventura to check everything out in some sand and hopefully start acclimatising. My next blog entry will tell you how I get on in Fuerteventura and may well be the last chapter of my journey...

The Pilgrims' Challenge - Day Two

At the end of my previous blog I had against all odds actually found the finish line and completed Day One successfully in a whisker under 7 hours, and a very small whisker at that - more of a gnat's eyebrow really. James, one of my tent mates for the MdS, was waiting for me at the finish. He had set off with the eight 'o' clock start group as he had a problem with his ankle and wanted to allow himself more time, unfortunately this wasn't enough to allow him to continue and he would be taking no further part in this years Pilgrims' Challenge. I had started Day One with my other two tent mates, Tom and Max, however we had separated at some point and, probably due to the fact I spent as much time going the wrong way as on the course, I didn't see them after the first few miles. Tom was having ITB problems and would, reluctantly but quite sensibly, also run no further.

The four of us grabbed a space in the school hall and set up camp. Having marked my pitch I went to try and wash the mud off me and my well splattered jacket and hat. I also went to find George, a fellow MdS competitor known to me via a friend's friend, who was the brother of the girlfriend of George. George had been on the elite start and calmly told me that his aspiration for the MdS was a top 40 place - I suspect he will get it. He also made me feel better about my navigation by recounting the story of a previous event where he was the certain winner until he confused a fete with the finish line...

I went back into the hall with my tent mates where we coveted various items of each others kit until it was time for dinner. After dinner I finally met Sue, another 2014 MdS entrant, with whom I had communicated on Facebook and even made her agree to teach me some of her dressage tricks (when Sue isn't running she makes horses walk sideways) on a camel to while away the long evenings in the desert.

Anyway the title of this blog entry is 'The Pilgrims' Challenge Day Two' so I'd better get on with it and move on to the said Day Two. The day started with porridge, packing and the pre-race briefing, where Neil assured us we weren't all disqualified despite the fact we had all crossed the A24. I planned to run Day Two with someone with a sense of direction and clock up a few less bonus miles. I was intending this person to be Max, at least to start with, although I suspected he would be somewhat quicker than me. Unfortunately he went back to put his bag on the van and so when we started I didn't know if he was in front or behind me. After a couple of miles I met up with Steve who was in the B&B on Friday night. He looked somewhat confused when I asked him how many times he'd gone wrong on Day One and replied 'none'. Perfect! We seemed well matched in pace and he also seemed to have an endless supply of glucose tablets which he kindly shared with me. At least that was what he told me they were - they certainly kept me moving.

My main impression of Day Two was that it all seemed to be 'up'. This was odd as Day One certainly hadn't all seemed to be all 'down', and from the route information there wasn't a whole lot of height difference between the two ends. Of course Box Hill appeared somewhat sooner from this direction and did contribute some significant 'down', however if anything going down the steep side was harder than going up it. When we arrived at the bottom we were told the underpass was no longer flooded and would be our route across the A24 today. The underpass betrayed no evidence of its previous role as a swimming pool, being barely damp. I'm still amazed that so much water can arrive and leave so quickly.

My left knee was putting in the odd formal complaint about the ridiculous angles it was being forced to traverse and left me limping ever so slightly as I came to Checkpoint Two. The medic spotted this and had a quiet word to make sure I was OK. After making sure I knew how far it was to the next checkpoint, that I had enough painkillers and that I was happy to continue, he wished me luck and let me carry on. I appreciated this approach and hence if I was ever told I should pull out of a future event by the XNRG medical team I would at least consider their advice before continuing. As I suspected the twinges were mainly caused by Box Hill and didn't cause me too many problems from there on.

As you might expect from a pilgrimage route there are numerous churches on the way. What might be less expected is the number of World War Two pill boxes on White Downs Lease, hulking brick structures on the hillside and in the woods. I would have liked to investigate them but whilst stopping for food and drink at checkpoints is an encouraged and indeed almost compulsory activity, I felt archaeological investigations  should wait for another day.

Although the River Mole had subsided, the River Wey definitely had not. On Day One you may remember I mentioned that the bridge no longer quite crossed the river, well by Day Two it wasn't even close. Once again the XNRG team had to quickly come up with a diversion and communicate it to the runners as we came through. The diversion took us further upstream (or possibly down, I'm not sure, it was definitely one of the two), across a bridge that actually spanned the river and back along the footpath on the opposite side. Even then the footpath was over ankle deep in water in places and some care was needed to avoid running straight into the river.

A few miles from the finish Steve started to fall slightly behind me and we gradually drifted apart. Its surprising how fast you can lose sight of all other runners on an ultra and so for significant parts of the final few miles I was alone and hence slightly worried as I really, really didn't want to go wrong at this point! Fortunately the organisers had put plenty of signs out and so I was able to finish strongly in 6 hours 46 minutes and 20 seconds, faster than Day One but also about two and a quarter miles less at 33.2 miles - and no bonus miles!

I met up with Max who had been behind me but had overtaken me at about half way, proving my theory that he was significantly faster than me. Fortunately it didn't go to his head and he very kindly took me to the station to get my train home.

All in all it was a very successful weekend from my point of view. Yes, I did cover more miles than probably anyone else but as the event was, for me, all about training for the MdS that didn't really matter, the important thing was I completed it in a reasonable time with no significant injuries. I have quite a few twinges - but I'm old, what do I expect? My mobile phone didn't do quite as well, it got a bit damp and now won't switch off, doesn't know which way up it is and goes flat rather quickly - but its old, what do I expect?

Once again Neil and his XNRG team triumphed. It can't have been easy, having to come up with two diversions after the race had started but they showed the level of professionalism I've come to expect and kept us safe and moving. I would give them nine and a half out of ten for the weekend. Why only nine and a half? Well after the Druids' Challenge I did point out that we needed cocktail sausages at every checkpoint. We had them at more on Pilgrims' but some checkpoints were still sausageless - if you want a perfect ten guys you know what to do!

I've now got a few weeks of what looks like very wet training before my final event before the big one, a 45 mile single day event along Saint Peters Way in Essex. I'm intending to use it to try out my strategies for the long day on the MdS - in which case I should stop writing and start developing a strategy or two.... 

The Pilgrims' Challenge - Day One

Everything about the MdS is getting very real now, of course its always been real but I now have my flight details and am starting to panic about gaiters, sleeping bag, food... Strangely the one thing I'm not panicking about is my fitness. Those of you that read this blog regularly really should get out more. You will also know my training runs rarely go to plan. However it doesn't matter because I accumulate the miles, usually more than I intended, and the results are really showing. I'm not fast, but that was never the plan, I can run for hours at a time, day after day and keep going, which is really what the MdS is all about, for me at least.

So why was my usual nervous self sat on a train to Farnham for the Pilgrims' Challenge? Well in my defence I wasn't as nervous as I was before the Druids' Challenge. I am now an ultra runner, I and I felt had every right to be on the start line for the Pilgrims' Challenge. I simply have a healthy respect for the unknown, and in the case of the Pilgrims' Challenge plenty of respect for the known. What I knew was that it hadn't stopped raining in any meaningful way since my last blog about two weeks ago, so mud was a certainty, and that the route profile would surely mean ropes and a harness would be compulsory kit. XNRG helpfully confirmed the mud and warned that a waterproof and warm extra layer may be required equipment. There was no mention in the email of climbing gear but then there was no mention of a snorkel and wetsuit either...

As it didn't appear feasible to get to Farnham early enough for a 9 'o' clock start I booked myself into a very nice and reasonably priced bed and breakfast. Should you wish to stay in Farnham at any time I can thoroughly recommend 1 Park Row if you are looking for a freindly value for money place to stay, just don't stay there on the Friday before the 2015 Pilgrims' Challenge in case I decide to run again next year. I'm sure Farnham is a lovely place but pouring rain and the Friday rush hour meant I didn't see it at its best, nor did I linger to appreciate its charms.

Many people like the thought of meeting new people at their accommodation, I'm afraid I'm just normally hoping they won't be noisy. However shortly after checking in and going to my room I heard some other guests arrive. The words 'run tomorrow' in the hall outside my room caused me to nosily stick my head out of the door where I was told 'I recognise you from Druids!'. Alison, Wendy and Steve had all run the Druids' Challenge and after a bit of thought I remembered seeing them too. This was good in a number of ways, first they kindly invited me to eat with them so I wouldn't be Billy No-mates in the local Italian Restaurant. Secondly they offered me a lift to the start so no hike back to the station for me and of course thirdly they would be going to bed early.

Saturday morning dawned and the big shock was... it had stopped raining! We set off to the start of the race and collected our numbers. I met up with a couple of my tent mates, Max and Tom, and we went outside to listen to the pre-race briefing and welcome from Neil. A dry day was forecast and so the only compulsory kit was the usual mobile phone, switched on, not on silent. We were also told that we were on no account to cross the A24 but to use the underpass. Anyone caught crossing the dual carriageway would be disqualified. We were also warned about fallen trees and mud, there was a lot of mud we were told.

Right from the start the rain had caused problems for the organisers. The first mile or so of the route was flooded so we had to detour along the road and pick up the North Downs Way further on. At least at this point I was going the right way and, once we had left the start, there was no mud. Mud arrived first, closely followed by the days first magical mystery tour just over 5 miles into the run. In my defence about 20 of us went the wrong way, including someone who had run the event 5 times before. One of the fallen trees caused us to miss a fork in the path and lead us to a point alongside the A3 instead of the underpass we were expecting. 

When we got to Guildford I found the bridge over the River Wey didn't exactly reach right over it any more and so had a little paddle to complete the crossing.  I managed to run in the right direction for almost 15 miles before getting it wrong again, fortunately it was only a short detour and I quickly righted myself.

Did I mention the mud? I think I did, so I suppose should mention my attempt at giving myself an impromptu full body mud pack. Not only were there a lot of fallen trees, there were, not surprisingly, a lot of fallen branches too. Some of these branches were submerged in thick mud. If you step on one end the other end pops up and catches your foot...

After that everything went swimmingly until the A24, where the only way to get through the underpass was to go swimmingly... The river Mole had burst its banks, flooded the underpass and cut off access to the North Downs Way. As usual XNRG had everything under control, marshals were at the dual carriageway to help us cross safely and then to point us to the detour. The next part of the route was the infamous Box Hill, which was used as part of the 2012 Olympic road cycle race course. If anything the detour was steeper and higher than the North Downs Way so no one felt in any way cheated.

I rejoined the North Downs Way on the other side of Box Hill and ran fairly directly to the days final checkpoint. By now I had run 31 miles and was flagging a bit which lead to my final navigational error. I used the time spent retracing my steps wisely and ate a couple of bars to rebuild my energy levels and finally found the golf course that lead into Merstham.

I had no idea where I was going in Merstham but was just following the signs. I realised that despite all the incidences of geographical challenge a time of under 7 hours might be possible. I used my final burst of energy to run faster and faster  until I was virtually sprinting up the school driveway to finish in 6 hours, 59 minutes and 22 seconds - oh yes!

And so I completed Day One, wet footed, mud coated but very satisfied to have still made a reasonable pace and in a reasonable condition for day Two. The evening of Day One and a complete description of the events of Day Two (those that I can remember, I'm fairly sure there will be mud - and more water) will form my next blog entry...

Heavy going

The big day is getting ever closer, just over ten weeks until we fly out, spend a day standing in queues (the one part of the event the British always come first in) and then start our cruel and unusual punishment, sorry, I mean the 2014 MdS of course.

There are many facets to preparing for the MdS as those of you that have been following my blog will know. The most obvious is training, I've been running a lot to prepare for this event and still have a lot more running planned. The one thing that is reasonably certain is that running in the UK climate isn't going to entirely prepare me for running in the desert. However training must continue regardless of weather so I've been trying to use it to my best advantage. I know I have some readers from outside the UK so for those I will mention that the weather here has consisted largely of rain up until the last week and many parts of the country have been flooded. Fortunately where I live has simply been very wet and floods have been restricted to fairly small areas and sections of road. The result of this has been that many of my favourite foot paths have been reduced to what, in horse racing parlance, could be referred to as 'heavy going' - in other words thick mud.

Up to a point I've tried to embrace the mud. I feel the slipping and sliding  actually helps my training as a sand dune isn't exactly likely to provide the most stable, grippy surface to run on. At least this was what I told myself when I decided to spend an entire Friday afternoon running up and down the same muddy hill trying to pretend it was a sand dune. Many people recommend doing additional gym work to strength the legs. This is probably good advice but when each step feels like you've stepped on a small child who is now hanging on to your trainer and trying to pull it off as you lift your foot up, it may not be so necessary.

The mud got thicker, then deeper, then thinner as it turned into knee deep ooze. I'll give anything a go but when I'm getting ready for a run and seriously choosing between running gear and my wetsuit its time to give up on trail running and had to go back to the roads and pavements, for me anyway. I'm aware cross-country and fell runners are reading this with a look of disgust on their faces - sorry.

So the next great experiment would take place on the roads - rain would still play a part as some of my runs took a slight detour - when a road is flooded and I can't see the end of the flood water I decide discretion is the better part of staying dry and go round. Once again, apologies to those that feel I'm giving in too easily. Anyway the next experiment was to try running with a 'Day One' weight pack. As I've said in a previous blog I'm determined to minimise weight and so 'Day One' should be 6.5kg of pack plus 1.5l (i.e. 1.5kg) of water, 8kg in all. In order to make things a bit more interesting I decided it was time to try freeze dried food with lukewarm water too, so the plan was for three runs of fifteen miles with an 8kg pack on consecutive days. Two days would be pure MdS rations, after the third run I would be allowed real food in the evening.

My days rations consisted of granola (with added powdered milk), a freeze dried meal, a Peperami (of course!), 25g of peanuts, an oatmeal bar and half a dozen Clif-bloks - a sort of expensive jelly baby for those that have never heard of them.The granola was breakfast, the freeze dried meal my 'main meal' and everything else snacks for the day. I was also allowed a recovery drink after each run.

So how did I get on? Well much better than I thought I would! The pack was energy sapping but manageable. It has left me more convinced than ever that minimum weight is essential (apart from the camera of course). On the event my pack will lose around 500 - 600g a day as I eat the food so three days at maximum weight was more than I will have to do, but Day One will be longer, hotter, more sandy... so three days training with it was good. The food didn't leave me permanently hungry as I thought it might. The first day was a slight challenge but day two was fine and actually I didn't eat until the evening of day three even though my run ended before lunchtime. I also didn't get uncontrollable wind as I (and even more so Sharon) feared I might. The freeze dried meals were edible with lukewarm water and hopefully might be even a little hotter in the desert sun so all in all a successful experiment! At some point I will have to try it for longer of course...

As my loyal followers will know the next great adventure is the Pilgrims' Challenge, two days of 33 miles per day on the North Downs Way. Apparently its only flooded in one place at the moment but there's still two weeks to go, so that could go either way. That was also supposed to be my last great adventure apart from 10 days of sand and heat training in Fuerteventura, however...

...The man that brought us the Festive Frolic, Ian, posted a link on Facebook to a series of races he is involved in which includes a 45 mile romp along St Peters Way. One thing that is missing from my training plan is a 'long day' simulation so as this is reasonably local, and Ian has promised me a lift to the start, it seemed too good to miss. Ian is also going to be the tail runner so if I don't get a move on he will be shouting 'encouragement' in my ear all the way along the course. This will also give me a chance to try out my Peronin strategy for the long day. Peronin is something entirely different to Peroni for those that were wondering. (Peronin is liquid food whereas Peroni is lager, which is also liquid food in some peoples' eyes, so maybe not as different as I first thought.)

So with ten weeks to go the plans are all coming together. The race shoes are purchased, just need the gaiters, I've nearly decided on my sleeping bag and the food plan is in good shape. hopefully you will all stay with me as we head into the home straight...