Getting there- Marathon des Sables 2003 diary by

Kevyn’s
Marathon Des Sables Adventure


Getting There


We arrive at Gatwick at 8.30am, John Hunt and myself. As we unload the bags from the car John says goodbye to his wife Carol, who very kindly drove us up.
I have a great feeling of nervous anticipation. I can’t quite believe that we are actually going to fly out to Morocco to take on the toughest foot race on earth!! It was nearly a year ago when I was running through Hockley woods with John; he mentioned his 60th birthday celebrations and asked me if I would like to be involved. I had imagined a marquee, champagne and dancing, you know a party!!! So I said to John I would love too. Good, said John, here’s the website address, we are running through the desert, the Sahara desert.

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I logged on the next day. As I started to read about the Marathon Des Sables, I could feel the colour draining from my face. A slight headache began after reading ‘150 miles’ and I had a low level panic attack after reading, ‘ cost includes the repatriation of your body to any UK airport of your choice’.
I found myself the next day reading a little more about the training required. After all, I was a fairly fit 29-year-old man with a few marathons and Ѕ marathons under my belt, but could I do the toughest foot race on earth? Did I have what it takes?
As I continued to read I remembered some words from T.S. Eliot,” Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.”

I had been training almost year for this event, getting a severe case of Achilles tendonitis in December after the Luton Marathon. This had put me off my training schedule for 5 weeks. The fear of not being fit enough to complete the MDS drove me to have painful sports massages every 3 days. 3 times a day I would submerge my leg into ice cold water for 20 minutes at a time, the pain was severe only for the first 4 minutes. This encouraged new blood to circulate around the damaged tendon and speed up repair. With help from Phil, Tye and Sarah, my physio’s, I was able to start training by the 2 week in January 2003. By this time I should have been up to 50 miles per week running with a light back pack but due to the injury setting me back, I was only running 15 miles per week without a pack. Time was running out.
I had 2 months of good training time left. The MDS was at the beginning of April.
Usually, you should not increase your training by any more than 10% on the previous week’s mileage. However, if I stuck to this I would have ended up by running no more that 30 miles per week with something like a 10lb pack. With that level of training I was certain that I would not be able to complete the MDS. Also, if my tendon was to give out, I was determined that it would give out in training and not in the desert. With good advice from Johny’Viagra’ Hunt and Phil physio I decided that training was the art of what you can get away with!

Jan week 2: 15miles no pack

Jan week 3: 20 miles 5 lb pack

Jan week 4: 20 miles no pack

Feb week 1: 30 miles 10lb pack

Feb week 2: 40 miles 20lb pack

Feb week 3: 45 miles 15lb pack

Feb week 4: 32 miles no pack

March week 1: 50 miles 25lb pack

March week 2: 60 miles 25 lb pack


Done it!!!

As I tapered my training for the last 2/3 weeks my energy levels came back up. The memory of my body letting out screams of pain during training subsided and my Achilles heel, wasn’t!!!

My family and friends had made allowances for me during this time. Dealing with somebody who is tired, irritable and scared cannot have been easy. Their support was key. I very much appreciate it. Thank you.


At The Airport


We got our first indication that this was not your normal holiday flight when the check in staff had to ask, “Quazazate. Which country is that in?”
After establishing the location of the Saharan airport and our baggage labelled correctly, we went through to meet some friends in departures.
I knew four people who were also doing the Marathon Des Sables (MDS). Louise ‘Networking LULU’ Port was the first to turn up. She had a unique training method. No matter which race she was entering she never ran more than 10 miles in any week. I had first met her at the Luton Marathon; she finished 10 minutes ahead of me. I asked about her infamous training technique. She confided that she had altered her training for the Luton Marathon by running only 5 miles per week!!! In comparison, I had done a couple of 20 mile runs before Luton and was regularly doing 25/30 miles a week.
Pierre’ Scrot Rot’ Molyneux was the next to surface. He retired at 38 from the stock market and bought a pub in his home village of Sherbourne in Dorset. Pierre is a good sub 3.20 min marathon runner, he is also the proud owner of a nuclear powered gob with the hilarious ability to say anything to anyone!!

We also met up with Charlotte and Luke Cunliffe, Neil and Paul aka Mulder & Scully, and Chris ‘Worldwide’ Webb.

The three-hour flight raced by and we arrived at Quazazate. We had one night in the hotel were we met Beth Wright who was to become ‘Midget Gem’ and Will’Wedgie’ Gow ‘t’.

After a 5-hour coach ride we were deposited in the middle of the Sahara next to some cattle trucks. After a little bun fight John and I managed to get into the back of one. The main purpose of these trucks was to transport you to the main camp in the fastest possible time over unmade dirt tracks. Over any particularly large bump, you could hear the driver scream ‘infidels’ as we shot 4 foot into the air coming down like a well shuffled pack of cards.


Pierre, Louise, Mulder and Scully secured tent 62. By the time John and I got there we also had the pleasurable company of Chris, Will and Beth.

The next day saw the equipment checks and form filling. We had to account for every single item of food and its calorific value. Our packs were weighed and medical certificates checked. Every competitor had to have an ECG to prove we had no heart defects. A few years ago, a young man in his 20’s lined up to start the MDS perfectly healthy. After Ѕ a mile he collapsed, he had a massive heart attack and died. His congenital heart defect had never been spotted, hence the ECG requirement. We also had to submit our blood group and give details of the nearest airport to our homes so, should the worst happen, our bodies could be repatriated!!! Reassuringly this was included in the cost of the trip!!!

Once we had finished this, we had the rest of the day to contemplate tomorrow, the start of the race.

Basically the MDS is a 150-mile foot race across the Sahara. It is a self-supported race. You carry all you own food and the equipment i.e. sleeping bag, medical supplies and emergency flare etc. The organisers provide an open sided Berber tent to sleep under and water. By the way, water is strictly rationed to 9 litres per day per competitor. This means you would never have enough water to wash with. At least, that was the reason I had for not washing for 7 days! Should you become dehydrated you are allowed a saline IV drip, but only the once. If the medical team have to give you a second drip at any later stage you are taken out of the race. If you fail on demand to show any of the essential equipment (foil survival blanket, anti venom pump, head torch, etc) you are taken out of the race.
If you show any signs of weakness the medical team will take you out of the race. This may have been for the best, however I felt their approach was predatory.


We had all been issued road books. These gave us all the details of the next 7 days. The overall length of the stage, location of the water checkpoints, maps showing the route and terrain and compass bearings. At that point I decided that it would be a good idea to ask how a compass works!!


Day One :15 miles



At 6.00 am the Berbers (tent Nazis) started to take the tents down, they had completed this by 6.15am, many runners were still inside them at the time!!
The desert is surprisingly cold at night, temps down to freezing, and at 6.00am it is still brass monkeys. By the time we had arranged our packs and cooked our first freeze-dried breakfasts it was 7.00am.
Now, if the desert is cold at night and hot in the day, there must be a time when it is not too cold and not too hot. Yes, you are right. At precisely 7.30am and 7.30 pm it is a lovely comfortable temperature, this lasts for 3 Ѕ minutes, and then it is bloody hot and bloody cold respectively.
At 8.30am all the runners were asked to gather around the starting line so we could all make some sort of peace symbol. The race organisers were French! Now, trying to organise 660 runners from 32 different nations you might think is an impossible task, and you would be absolutely right! There were 15 Americans who chose not to take part in the mкlйe but were busy trying to sort out a ‘Bomb Iraq’ motif.

9.00 am start time. As a final cheese eating surrender monkey touch! Officials decided to release 10 doves of peace just before the start. Now, let’s think about this for a moment. We were at the start for the MDS, in one of the most inhospitable environments on earth. The only wildlife that can actually live in the desert are the ones that burrow into the sand to escape the extremes of temperature. Have you ever seen a dove burrow? No, I haven’t either! The cage was opened, a couple of doves flew out, a couple of doves stayed in the cage, but most decided to jump out of the cage and walk around on the sand. The sand directly in front of the start line! Now, the start of the MDS was timed to coincide with a live satellite link, so it could not be delayed.
The gun goes off! 660 competitors run across the line, sadly some of the doves do not get out of the way and were trampled to death, leaving the others to a more painful and lingering end. However good the intentions of the organisers, I felt that releasing the doves was a particularly short sighted and ultimately cruel gesture. 660 runners/walkers had come together to test themselves and many were raising money for charities. Linking this once in a lifetime adventure, however indirectly, to political events of the day was unwise. I felt this was not the time for political statement making.

Were off, all the training and hardship is suddenly very worthwhile. John and I agreed from the start that we would do the MDS together. This gave me a great deal of comfort, I knew John was a lot fitter and could have gone a lot faster then me. We began 4 minutes running 4 minutes walking, after about an hour I was finding this tough so we slowed it to 3 minutes running 3 minutes walking. By the time we got to the only check point of the day I was feeling the heat, 113 F, I told John that I had to walk the rest of the way.
After just over 4 Ѕ hours we arrived back at camp. I was feeling terrible. The terrain had been mostly flat hard ground, with only a few dunes. I rested for Ѕ hour, had something to eat and started to feel better.
Our other tent mates had done very well. Worldwide, Wedgie, Scrotrot, Mulder & Scully had done very fast times. Midget Gem was only a couple of minutes behind John and I.
We settled down for the evening, cooked our rations and tried to make ourselves as comfortable as possible.
Our open sided Berber tent provided no protection from the wind with only a tattered rug on the floor to comfort us from the uneven and stoney ground. I had taken a roll mat with me, which gave some comfort, but this was our third night under canvas and everybody’s hips were bruised due to the hard ground. You could not get into a comfortable sleeping position and so you could not get a good nights sleep. The sleep deprivation aspect of the MDS I had not considered. The distance of 150 miles is daunting, but add to that the heat, terrain and pushing your body on 3 to 4 hours sleep per night. We estimated that we could be burning up to 12,000 calories per day. As we were carrying our own food, due to the weight, most of us we only able to carry 2,000 to 3,000 calories per day.
The toughest foot race on earth seemed a lot tougher than I had anticipated, as I stretched out in my sleeping bag and looked up at the perfect night sky.



Day 2: 21 miles Dune Day!


There are 2 stages that have become legend within the MDS. The 50-mile through the night stage and Dune Day.
Dune day in previous years had accounted for 15% of the total field giving up or being taken out of the race. This was going to be a tough day. John and I had been joined by Beth (midget Gem).
Beth is 5 ft tall and a deeply lovely person (tough as old boots, and very single minded or is that pig headed!) hence her nickname.
Dune day started with 50 ft dunes, these became 100ft dunes. Every step you were either going up a dune or down one. By midday I was having problems with my pack. My shoulders were screaming with pain, the pack was rubbing the skin from the tops of my shoulder blades. I could not understand why, the pack was fine on all the training runs! Still, nothing you can do about it, apart from Nurofen. I was so glad that I had some walking poles; they reduced the strain on my legs and most importantly my Achilles heel.
Everything was going well. We had settled into a good pace as we were chatting and taking lots of photos.
We had covered about 15 miles, our confidence grew as we thought that all the big dunes were out of the way. About a mile from the last check point we went through a small hamlet and turned to our left. There it was, we could not believe it. Now, have you seen the film ‘Perfect Storm’? Remember the look on George Clooney’s face when he saw the killer wave? I imagine that is how I looked. I had never seen an 800ft sand dune before! At this point we had already been going for 6 hours. Nothing to do but grind out the last few miles over some very large dunes.
We were greeted by our tent mates at the finish line, a very kind gesture. It had taken John, Beth and I just over 9 hours to complete the stage.
Taking off my shoes back at the tent, I was starting to get blisters and foot trauma, mainly bruising. My feet had started to swell. We had been warned about this, that is why my shoes were 1Ѕ sizes too big.
Now, I had been told the best way to deal with blisters is to puncture the blister and squeeze out the fluid. Then get a syringe full of iodine and inject it into the blister. Cover the blister with tape and in the morning the blister will almost have dried up. You know what, it works! I would like to thank Jo and Sally for getting me these essential medical supplies. Also, I would like to thank them for not telling me how much it was going to hurt. Believe me, it does hurt!!!

Day 3: 23 mile Stage


Once again the tent Nazis had all the tents down by 6.15 am. By now we had become very good at getting up at 5.59am. First thing is treat your feet, cleaning them as best you can and use generous amounts of zinc oxide tape.
Reading the road book during my chocolate mousse breakfast (just add cold water! Lovely) I noticed the varied terrain that we would face. Sand, ideal for getting into blisters or aiding the growth of new ones. Stony ground, excellent for bruising feet, bursting newly formed blisters and twisting ankles. Today we also had lots of crevasses, ideal for falling down or breaking arms and legs. Although slightly tired I was looking forward to it!!
Networking Lulu also happily joined us. The four of us set off.
10 long hours later we had finished. Throughout the day we had a very strong head wind making a difficult stage even harder.
3 runners had to pull out even before the stage started, due to fatigue. 8 more pulled out during the day.
Back at the tent, feeling exhausted, I survey the damage to my feet. A few more blisters and bruises. I thought I had taken enough Nurofen for the week. Clearly not, my large packet was empty (Nurofen packet!!).
‘How many have you taken today?’ Beth asked me.
‘I am not sure’ I replied.
‘Not to worry, I have enough Volterol.’
‘What are those brightly coloured ones?’ I asked.
‘Morphine based pain killers.’
Beth had come well prepared!! I had offers of painkillers from all the other tent mates including Lulu giving me a load of 400mg ibuprofens. Tent mates, you can’t beat them.
Worldwide, Wedgie, Mulder, Scully and Scrot Rot were turning in some fantastic times for the stages, twice as fast as us.
The mantra around the camp was ‘get through the 50 mile stage and you have as good as done the MDS.’
The next day would be the toughest challenge that I had ever faced. At that time, there was no place on earth that I would rather have been; and no people I would rather have been with, in spite of the fear.
John, Beth and Lulu you are fantastic.

Day 4: 50 mile Through the Night Stage


Daybreak 5.30am. John had been severely sick during the night, throwing up several times. He looked pale and drawn. He had been unable to keep anything down, including water. John had picked up a stomach bug. The conditions in which we were living were very unhygienic. The desert is a dirty place. Fly’s spread germs at an alarming rate.
John knew that if he was unable to keep water down, he was out of the race. John sat quietly taking occasional sips of water. 7.00am John still felt bad. 8.00am John had managed to keep the water down. Good, he might just do this!! 8.30am John was helping me on with my pack, and then I assisted him. In John’s words, “Come on old son; let’s get to the start,”

9.00am start time.

Now, John had not been able to have breakfast or digest any food from last night. In fact, the last time John had a meal was the finish of day 2, 36 hours ago.
At the start line I wondered how long John’s body would be able to go on. In order to function the body needs food. What energy reserves would John have?
The four of us, John, Beth, Lulu and myself set off.

I am thankful I had no idea what was ahead of us!

John and Lulu set off at a good pace, I was more than happy going slightly slower with Beth, who was having a bad time. I was concerned for John, however. One lesson that I had learned from John; after being helped through countless training runs and marathons by him, was never leave your mates! Beth was very quickly over her temporary blip, the four of us continued on. During the heat of the day (120єF) we stopped and took time to rest at the checkpoints. The race organisers had allowed us 36 hours to complete this stage.
We reached checkpoint 3 around 5.30pm. John was still feeling bad but managing not to show it. We had been on the go for 9 Ѕ hours and covered 19 miles. We all had something to eat, apart from John who had ј of an oxo cube that must have contained 4 calories!!! Our meals had calorific values around 500 calories. I also had a desert, which had a value of 500 calories as well.
We got our road books out and compasses and set off into to the night.
It is easy to experience psychological problems in the night stage as the desert nights are so black and you only have your head torch to see were you are going. This means that you are focused on a small 2-foot square bit of light. You very quickly get the sensation of being on a treadmill running machine. You feel as if you are standing still, not very nice when you know you have another 30 miles to go. It is also difficult to judge distance. Are you going up hill? Or downhill? You start to plant your feet more firmly to avoid tripping, with each step the bruising gets worse.
Things were going ok, we were walking and chatting. The organisers had put luminous light sticks every Ѕ mile so all you had to do was follow the sticks. When we came to the dunes, they had projected a green laser beam through the night sky for us to follow 12 miles long.

Day 5: Continuing the 50 mile Stage

I started to get tired by midnight, as we all did. Unbelievably, John was still going strong. I had been expecting him to ‘hit the wall’ and collapse due to his lack of food, but he did not. This was an amazing effort.

As we approached checkpoint 5 at 3.00am, I was more tried than I had ever been. So, my memory of the events that happened is open to question.
For some time I had the excellent idea of trying to get some sleep while walking. I thought if I just close my eyes. As soon as I did that, I began to drift off and landed headlong into a sand dune.
So much for my Samurai training!!
We decided that we would rest for a bit at checkpoint 5. Beth and John were just in front of us, I was right behind Lulu. After getting my water I looked around for Lulu. There was no sign of her. No sign of John or Beth. There must have been 60+ competitors who were all resting around the checkpoint so, after looking around for 10 minutes I decided to get out my sleeping bag and get some rest. I had just got into my sleeping bag and closed my eyes when 120 seconds later John appeared, “ Come on old son, You’ve had your 30 minute nap. I’ll come back when the girls have got their shoes on.” I could not bloody well believe this!!!
Resigned to the fact I had to get up. You don’t want to mess with John, especially when he is wearing cycling shorts!!
So, in a very confused and grumpy state, I got my shoes on and joined John and the girls.
We needed to move quickly to do the maximum amount of distance during the cool night air. The daytime temperatures had been rising all week and today was to be no exception.
We set off from checkpoint 5 at 3.30am
Pain was a constant companion. At this point we had covered 74 miles in 4 days. I had 7/8 large blisters on each foot. Where I did not have a blister I had a bruise.
Due to the foot trauma my feet where 2 to 3 sizes larger than normal. I had allowed for my feet to grow 1-Ѕ sizes by selecting a size 11 shoe, rather than my usual 9 1/2s, as we had been warned about this problem. Even so, I could feel my trail shoes constricting the sides of my feet, adding to the problem of blisters and bruising. Every step was painful. I started to pop Beth’s Volterol and Lulu’s Ibuprofen hourly.
It is amazing when you consider that 4 days ago I had not met Beth and had only met Lulu once and now they were generously giving me painkillers, keeping me in the race. If I failed to mention it before, thank you both. Also, thank you to John, by this time I had already consumed most of his painkillers as well!!
The severe pain caused by my backpack rubbing unnecessary skin of my shoulders helped take my mind off the excruciating agony I felt each time I took a step.
This was one of my lowest points of the race. I have never been in such pain or so tired. Every one was feeling the same! You just had to grind out every step, telling yourself to just keep going, this was going to end. At some point this had to end!

I can’t remember any more of the night stage. I seem to recall Lulu saying that her feet hurt but I could not be sure!! She may have also stopped frequently, getting down on all 4’s to give momentary relief to her feet!!

At 8.00am we had arrived at the last checkpoint before the finish. At this point we had done 42 miles. We rested for 30 minutes and started the final leg home.
John was still going, and seemed a lot brighter. My body clock kicked in and I felt a lot better. Just 8 more miles to go, the worst 8 miles of my life!!!
The last leg was up a riverbed. Your feet sank 6 inches into the silt. I was forced to take baby steps as there was no ground to push off from. It became the hottest day so far, reaching 125F. The sides of the riverbed were raised so no wind could blow. The heat radiated off the sand. If you want to recreate the sensation get an old electric heater, the type with bars. Turn all 3 bars on and put your face 3 inches from the bars!!
You don’t notice yourself sweating in the desert. As your body secretes the sweat it dries on your skin, leaving a white salt mark.

It was at this stage John decided that I should learn all about the production of various metals and the workings of a ‘Bessemer’ converter. In addition to this I was being attacked by flies.

And finally!

26 hours 45 minutes after setting off, Beth, Lulu, John and myself had finished. It was midday and we were ecstatic, in an utterly fatigued way!

John’s achievement cannot be overstated. Starting the 50 miles section feeling as bad as he did cannot have been easy. By the finish John had not eaten for 3 days! It was an inspiring display of mental toughness with a high level of physical stamina.

Back at the tent the boys had again put in some brilliant times, and had been resting for many hours!!! The bastards!!!

We had the afternoon and evening to rest, eat, drink and be knackered in a smug way.
After I had some food, I got up and discovered that my hamstrings were incredibly tight and painful. I attempted some stretches, but not much was happening. The only way to get around was to walk with very small steps and sway from side to side. This earned me my nickname, Kevyn ‘The Tinman’ Steel.



Day 6: 26 Miles Marathon Day

Every one up at 5.59am and out of the tent by 6.00am. Tent taken down at 6.04am. God we are getting good at this!
My feet were not good. Started taking painkillers right after breakfast.
It took me about an hour to prepare my feet. Injecting iodine, taping bruises and applying liberal amounts of lubricant to my trouser furniture!
It was a struggle getting my shoes on. One of those grit your teeth and push moments.
There were people worse off than me. Enclosed with this document are some pictures, please refer to Beth’s Feet.

Only a marathon today. Everyone was tried but relived at the same time. Dune day and the 50 mile stage were over, Tent 62 was intact.
The well practiced routine of helping each other on with the packs began. John was looking better but still not eating food, although he did have some Peronin (astronauts use it, a mix of carbs, proteins and minerals).

A few stories emerged from the 50 killer miles.
The last man in took 35 hrs 30 mins arriving at 10.30pm. The organisers lined up all the 60 Land Rovers either side of the finish; with lights flashing and horns sounding they cheered the last man home. It sounded great. Many competitors got out of their comfortable sleeping bags to add their support. I wanted to go and take part, but I was unable to move my legs.
Another competitor got to within 50 yards of the finish line, completely exhausted. He had pushed his body beyond its limits. Other competitors could only watch and encourage. So close to the officials they could not help him, that would mean instant disqualification.
Shuffle shuffle. Stop. Shuffle Shuffle. Stop. Shuffle shuffle. Stop. Shuffle Shu…..
He collapsed 48 yards from the finish line of the 50 mile stage. The Medical staff rushed to his aid and carried him into the hospital tent. Instant disqualification. The record will show him as a non-finisher; The MDS ‘Toughest foot race on earth’ for me took on another meaning. I felt enormous empathy for this guy. The pain his body must have been in does not bear thinking about, but the pain of failing so close to the finish would, for me, be gut wrenching. As I went to sleep that night I thought thank God that wasn’t me, thank God that wasn’t any of us (tent 62).





8.30am start due to the heat.

Off we went the inseparable 4 musketeers. I can’t remember much about this day, it must have hurt though!
It took us 10 hours 12 minutes.

At the tent the mood was buoyant. We performed the regular duties of cooking, laughing, insulting and encouraging each other.
Lulu had developed the habit of talking to everyone, and I do mean that. There were 661 competitors; ‘Networking Lulu’ seemed to know all of them. Including an incredibly annoying ‘Management motivator’ who crowbared himself into our tent, after we had all gone to sleep. He told ‘Networking Lulu’ to imagine the sand is like ‘Olay’ moisturising your feet with every step. And think of your pack back as being a big helium filled balloon lifting the weight off your back. The sand had made mincemeat of my feet and my back pack was giving me large sores on my shoulders and this type of non sensical mumbo jumbo started pissing us all off. Needless to say he did not last long in the tent!




Day 7: 13 Miles The Final Stage

A buzz in the air, I got up and started walking around like a robot on speed!
We cooked our breakfast for the last time. The thought of the hotel, a bath, beer, coke (the drink!), crisps, ice cream, beer, clean clothes, a shave, did I mention beer? Oh yes, and completing the MDS.
I had so much adrenaline coursing around my veins I had the brilliant idea of putting my shoes on without taking painkillers beforehand. John had cut away the built in gators so I could open the shoe up fully, so it should have been easy. After 2 seconds of trying to put my shoe on I had the brilliant idea of taking a load of painkillers and waiting half an hour!!

Every one was excited. If you made it this far, you were not going to drop out. We had started to know each other quite well as Scrot Rot demonstrated.
Scrot Rot leant over and said to Mulder ‘What is that?’, pointing in the direction of Mulders cycling shorts. Before Mulder has a chance to react Scrot had copped hold of Mulder’s Willy!!! Subsequently Mammoth was added to Mulder, as he was a very big boy!! Scrot Rot’s explanation was that it had been staring at him all week!!

Since the start of the race, a certain tent populated by our American cousins, every morning performed this entirely unnecessary and idiotic chant. ‘Hey hey baby, I want to know if you’ll be my girl’ Whooooo Harrrr’ etc.
And today was to be no exception. As this tent began its windup. ‘Will Wedgie’ was getting his morning ration of water from the centre of the camp. A strange silence fell on the camp. A lone, imperious and well spoken voice was then heard,”Shut up you Wankers”. Yes it was our very own Will. There was a loud collective cheer from all the other competitors. The Americans had been stunned by the incisive aggression of Will’s comment. They sang no more!

9.00am start we set off at a good pace. Yes the pain was still there. My feet and shoulders once again screamed under the effort. The pain was kept in check by the constant supply of ‘sweeties’ from Beth and Lulu.

The terrain was once again brutal. Walking through fields of rock debris was the most painful. By this time I had blisters on top of blisters.


After about 3 hours of walking we had hit the outskirts of the town, Tazzarine. It felt good to be walking on flat dirt tracks. There were one-story dwellings springing up by the side of the road. As the tracks became flatter the buildings began to grow in size, 2 and then 3 stories high. We were definitely heading back into civilisation.


As we were approaching Tazzarine, the town where the final finish line was, we were accosted by lots of children wanting bonbon or chocolate. This at first was amusing, then by the time you had replied ‘No’ for the 400th hundred time it became annoying.
John discovered an excellent tactic. John would wait till a small group of children had crowded round him then he would bellow ‘No’. The Children would leap back and then run away in terror. This became an excellent game and kept us amused for a few hours.

The markings that had been so good in the desert disappeared. For a time we wondered if we were heading in the right direction. We asked some medics who were parked up in their Land Rover how much further it was, sadly they did not know! We then walked another 5 minutes, turned a corner and there it was. 6 Ѕ days, 150 miles we were 200 yards from the finish. Beth, Lulu, John and myself had all agreed to run when we saw the finish. I cannot describe the mixture of emotions that I went through as we ran the last few steps. The memory of crossing that finish line and the joy that I felt has been burned so deeply on my memory I will never forget it.
John, Beth, Lulu and I had done it!! 4 hours and 39 minutes.

The organiser of the MDS, Patrick Bauer, was at the finish line giving every competitor a medal and a very large hug. We lined up for our medals and when it came to my turn I squeezed him for all he was worth!!

We saw Luke and Charlotte Cunliffe and congratulated one another. It was Luke who had done the MDS before. During a lovely dinner at John & Carol’s Luke said to me ‘Kevyn this will be the hardest thing that you have done’. And you know what! He was right!

Get me to the hotel!


The rest of tent 62 had once again done some great times. I think it is fair to say that the boys completed their 150 miles twice as fast as us. But who had more fun?


We saw Mulder at the finish. He very kindly got us our first taste of coke and fanta in 8 days.
We all took a space in the rest tent and collapsed.
After something to eat with not a freeze dried meal in sight, we boarded the coach for a hair razing coach ride over the Atlas Mountains. 5 hours later we arrived at our hotel. By this time my hamstrings had frozen up and I could barely walk let alone carry my case. John booked us in and I made very slow progress to the room. John let me have first dibs on the bath. By this time John had not eaten for 3 or was it 4 days.
‘I am off to the supermarket’ John said.
30 minutes later I was having my second bath, and boy did I need it, when John came in and furnished me with a large bottle of coke and a numerous amount of crisps, chocolate and ice cream, fantastic.

Feeling human again, I left John to bath while Beth and I went to the medical team to see about our feet. The doctors dealt with my blisters quickly. Cutting off the dead skin then applying liberal amounts of iodine. At this point I was no longer taking any painkillers. However, as an Englishman I felt I had a reputation to up hold. I managed to get through without wincing or showing any signs of pain, emotional control. Something that the Italian man next to me clearly did not know the meaning of!!
So what if I was the only person there with his teddy bear!! I hobbled over to see how Beth was doing.
Now, bear in mind that Beth had not once mentioned her feet or complained about anything, apart from an incident where she was clobbered by a tent pole! I could not believe the site that greeted me. (see www.tent62.com) Beth’s feet had been in that terrible state since the Wednesday, before the 50-mile stage.

The doctors did not know what had happened. They worked on Beth for a couple of hours. Even so she still had to go back the next day and have 4 more hours of treatment and several mainline morphine drips (Cool eh!).
If my feet had been that bad I am not sure that I would have been able to complete the MDS. While Beth’s feet were in this condition she did not complain or moan once, and was very supportive to all other tent mates. Well done Beth.



Summing up


Is there anything left to be said? Well frankly yes!

Back at the hotel I had never laughed so much. My sides began hurting more than my feet.
As I write this, I am looking forward to this weekend and the tent reunion.

Saying goodbye to my tent mates at the airport was difficult. As glad as I was to be home I knew I would miss them terribly.

I went to bed early. At 4.00am I woke up and started to panic. We must push on, we are running out of time. Where is John? Where is Lulu and Beth? I got my back pack out of my wardrobe (I know, there was a clue in there somewhere!). I got my head torch out and looked around. What!!!!! Someone has moved my bedroom into the Sahara!!! Then I remembered. I sit down on my bed; looked out onto the night sky, feeling very sad that the adventure is over, I realise that we have finished.

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