THE ADVERT:
Why this IS the toughest footrace on Earth
It covers 243km/151 miles (in sections similar to 25, 34, 38, 82, 42, 22 km) run over 6 days (7 for some) - equivalent to 5 1/2 regular marathons. That's a speed of between 3 and 14 km an hour for competitors aged between 16 and 78). In addition to that, competitors have to carry everything they will need for the duration (apart from a tent) on their backs in a rucksack (food, clothes, medical kit, sleeping bag etc). Water is rationed and handed out at each checkpoint.
You will have to prepare all your own food throughout the race and I warn you that there is not a chain of Tesco stores or corner grocery shops dotted around the Sahara. You will experience mid-day temperatures of up to 120°F, of running or walking on uneven rocky, stony ground as well as 15 - 20% of the distance being in sand dunes.
The heat, distance and rubbing will trash your feet and may cause severe trauma if incorrect shoes and equipment are used. Mental stamina probably constitutes at least 50% of whether you will complete the distance or not. Physical fitness is important but don't underestimate the mental stress that you will need to endure. Even if you have run dozens of 26 mile marathons, this does not mean that you will automatically find the MdS easy - either way you will be planning to do lots of training prior to the MdS.
On the 4th day, you will set off across the barren wilderness to complete a 45 - 50 mile stage. Few people complete this before dark that evening and some will not come in till after dark the next night. This is followed by the 42km Marathon stage!! It’s tough, so don't say that nobody warned you in the strongest terms.
Welcome to the world of lunatics and masochists


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I’d tried dozens of different sports, from moto-cross to parachuting, stock car racing to rugby, and, in my forties had taken up running and completed a load of marathons. I saw this advert and watched several TV programmes about the event. It fascinated and thrilled me and eventually, when I learned that that posh twerp Ben Fogle had completed it, I decided to go for it. This was going to be my way of celebrating retiral from 30 years in the police and of my 50th birthday. I had the desire, I would have time for training and I knew that if I didn’t try it now I never would.
Family and friends all thought I was daft but I felt there was a bit of envy from some. I couldn’t, however, persuade anyone to do it with me.
By September 2004, I had built up the courage to post my £500 non-refundable deposit for the 2006 MDS. The fear and panic that built up as I stood at the pillar box was going to remain with me for the next 18 months. A few days later confirmation arrived and training began in earnest.
TRAINING


Several friends persuaded me that I should do this for a charity and I felt I could pick no better cause than the Marie Curie.

Training throughout 2005 consisted of regular long runs interspersed with as many half and full marathons as I could fit in. I did the London marathon in April and followed it 6 days later with Fort William marathon. I finished both in good times and this built up confidence in my recovery stamina.
In June, I did the fairly hilly Edinburgh marathon and got a PB of 3hrs 11min. In July I retired from the police and celebrated with a family holiday in South Africa where I managed to do a few runs in the heat.
August I completed my first ultra - the 35 mile two bridges race. This was a undulating mainly cross country route and was delighted to be able to run the whole thing under 5 hours and doing the first 26.2 miles in under 3hrs 30.

I attended a very useful MDS seminar in York in November.

I started driving a taxi and by doing this in the evenings I was left with the rest of the day for training.
After Christmas 2005 I concentrated on hill runs and began carrying the back pack gradually building up weight. I felt that steep hills would be similar to running up sand dunes. I also travelled down to the coast for the occasional run on the dunes.
I teamed up a few times with 2 other Scottish guys, Ron Logan, a farmer from Galashiels and Barry Duncan, an IT engineer from West Calder who were also entered for MDS. Both appeared impressively fit.

In February I entered the 54 mile Thames Meander which was billed as a training race for MDS. It was meant to replicate the long, day 4 stage as much as possible. We had to carry our packs for the race, mine weighing around 7kilos. The route started in Reading and basically followed the Thames into London. Somehow I managed to get a bit lost north of Maidenhead and ended up doing an extra three miles. (A tad concerning that if I couldn’t follow a path beside the Thames what chance would I have crossing the Sahara Desert). I managed to run for most of the first 40 miles but found the weight of the pack very tiring. I then went into a sort of run/walk for ten miles. By then it was dark, starting to rain and very demoralising. There was no way I could run another step and had to hobble the final 6 miles. There was only 6 weeks to go till MDS and I was terrified of causing an injury. Luckily I had teamed up with another guy and we managed to give each other a great deal of encouragement. I was pushing myself to finish in time for a few pints and a curry, but on reaching the school hall at the end I could only collapse on the floor and drink some soup. The following morning we attended a Sahara School with advice from previous MDS competitors. On leaving I had a great deal of difficulty in walking and realised that I had been using totally different muscles during the run/ walk carrying the weight as opposed to normal running. Overall though, the event had been a great confidence boost as I had completed it in just over 11 hours but felt I could have gone a bit faster. I realised that on the long day 4 stage I would be doing a lot of walking, particularly by the time that it got dark and that walking poles would be of great assistance in taking the pressure off your legs. I also discovered that it was very difficult to sleep on a hard floor when sober and that I would have to practice that before leaving for Morocco.

I read in several articles that you should try and acclimatise to the heat during the 6 weeks before. I managed to obtain sponsorship from Edinburgh Leisure who gave me the use of their sauna at Warrender swimming baths. I would run to the sauna and gradually build up my time as long as bearable before running home again. The theory being that your body would be used to sweating without losing vital salts. I think it worked in theory, but unfortunately in the race there wasn’t the water to replace lost fluid. The local newspaper picked up on this and published an article with pictures of me looking stupid, fully dressed in desert gear in the sauna. This generated a fair bit of sponsorship for my charity.

I had read every single article I could find on the event and everyone’s advice seemed different. Some said to harden the skin of your feet first yet others advised against this as the skin would crack when the feet began to swell. All said to get bigger sized shoes for the swelling. One size? 2 sizes? Cotton? Lycra? What sort of gaitors? Everybody had different views of what equipment and food to take. The more I read the more confused I became.

Various medical certificates had to be obtained and I had one minor panic when my ECG had to be referred for a second opinion as it was ‘abnormal’. I was later told that this was ‘athlete’s heart’ . I was assured it had no connection with athlete’s foot and was possibly due to my extra training! It sounded really impressive to me.


Six weeks before leaving I was devastated to discover that my mother was terminally ill with cancer, and it was not certain if she would survive over April. We had a heart to heart conversation and she convinced me to run no matter what as she was taking great pride in the race and would be supporting me every step of the way. It was uncanny that she would now be using the Marie Curie facilities herself. The day before leaving she assured me that she would see me finish and I promised her that I would be back with my finisher’s medal.
THE RACE

Wednesday 5th April 2006

Travelled down to Gatwick from Edinburgh with Ron where we met up with Barry and a Welshman, who spoke with a Scouse accent, Mark Thomas, along with numerous other competitors. Shared a room with Ron who discovered that he would have to purchase earplugs to kill my snoring

Thursday 6th April 2006

Made our way to the terminal and checked in. Ron bought his ear plugs. We all carried as much vital equipment in our packs as possible in fear of hold luggage getting lost. Numerous competitors were wearing their gaiters and running gear so all were easily spotted. Everyone I spoke to seemed to be highly experienced and had completed all sorts of crazy adventures. I was convinced that I was the only one who hadn’t completed at least an ironman or climbed Kilamanjaro. Last few pints of Guinness (It’s full of goodnesss) and we were on to the charter plane to Ouarzazate. Spectacular views of the Atlas Mountains and desert as we landed at the deserted airport. We were then taken by bus to a very nice hotel. Four of us had a walk round the town before returning to hotel to a few beers and an eat all you can buffet. Saw lots of other competitors on training runs about the town (dafties).


Friday 7th April 2006

Early eat all you can breakfast, thus stuffed with plenty calories, then pile on to coaches for a 220K journey over mountains, desert and oasis towns to the remote town of Ait Saadane. Handed our road books and quickly realised that the organisers were determined to maintain the reputation of the race as being the toughest of them all. There were a lot more mountain and dune stages than previous years and, although the long day was shortened to 72K, it looked like it had particularly difficult sections.
En route there were a couple of pee stops and then a lunch stop where we all de-bussed in the middle of the desert for a picnic in the searing heat. It was whilst sitting there I encountered my first scorpion crawling around the rocks. A handy reminder why we had to carry venom pumps. Dozens of children then appeared from nowhere and scrounged the remnants of our lunch. Back to the buses which took us to the road end and we were then loaded into the rear of army lorries to continue the journey into the unknown. Visions of the executions in The Great Escape sprung to mind. Eventually we arrived at our first bivouac. 100 sack type tarpaulins held up by sticks and laid out in a huge circle. We were allocated ‘tent’ areas by nationality. Mark, Barry, Ron and myself found four blokes in tent 87 who were happy to share. Phil Hampden-Smith, a Financial Director, from Singapore, Darren Schlosser a food importer from Kent, Neill Morgan, a drug dealer (medical) from Coventry, but adamant he is Welsh, and Guy Peters an IT Consultant, also from the West Midlands. To add a spot of luxury to the accommodation we cleared the ground/bedroom of the biggest rocks checking for scorpions and camel spiders. So this was it for the rest of the adventure. 3 Scotsmen, 2 Welshmen, and 3 Englishmen, one of whom lived overseas. The banter started straight away and rules were laid down about no talk of sheep, 1966 or the Ashes. The laughter continued until our plane home. Didn’t realise there would be so many flies out here. Perhaps they would go once we started to really smell.
Once we had checked our kit we were amazingly provided with an excellent 3 course meal, wine included. A very impressive achievement catering for around one thousand people in the middle of the desert. An uncomfortable night of farting and snoring ensued, with Neill providing me with fierce competition. The majority of the time, however, was spent marvelling at the stars and worrying about what lay ahead