Marathon Des Sables 2021 - Desert Dad Diary Day 4

Race Stage 2

How wrong can you be?!  What I hadn't anticipated during the dark night was a horrendous bout of diarrhoea, culminating in me trying to find a suitable ‘poo bag’.  Using my phone torch as a guide, (having misplaced my head torch) I make my way to the dreaded plastic tent of doom.  I can assure you that you don't want to be caught in the dark completely ill prepared as I was.  Shorts and boxers are ditched and I return to my tent feeling somewhat queasy.  A dreadful nights’ sleep ensued and I was awoken this time by Vivaldi which was strangely soothing; albeit my campmate appeared to still be in a world of his own, sleeping with his earbuds and eye mask.

Off we go again, all packed and prepared this time, we go for breakfast, consisting of the same as the previous day, scrambled egg and some vaguely sweet leavened bread.

My campmate requests a bowl of coffee to wake him up which I oblige him with.  I then have to inform him as to why I have had a change of clothing.  He seems unperturbed at my awkwardness at breakfast as my stomach was behaving in a very unnatural way.  He informs me that he is going to head off and work whilst I am left contemplating taking another Imodium to settle things.

Route plotted and miserly breakfast eaten, I trudge off to meet some competitors and friends in Tent 61 and the surrounding area.

We have had 25 drop out so far with varying conditions, including two that were placed on IV drips.  The Race is over for these unfortunate individuals and they prepare to leave the desert for the hotel and a return flight home, all at their own expense.

Now breakfast is complete and our driver is briefed, we head for the start of Stage 2 which involves 13km of sand dunes amongst many other atrocities.  I walk out to the Bivouacs to pass on my best wishes to Tents 51 thru 63, discussing how hot the weather was yesterday and how many had dropped out. 

Final last adjustments and tape administered to sore looking toes and then quick team and individual photos. 

Realising I am too close with my longer lens, I step back and mild disaster strikes, when I realise I have trodden on someones tiny, little stove heating water which was meant from breakfast rather than being clumsily spilled in the sand.  Horror runs through my veins that I may have potentially destroyed  not only his one form of eating but also that previous water.  Feeling guilty and with no alternative but to fess up I am told that all is not lost and in fact nothing has been wasted, I breathe a sigh of relief.  I do love the British ‘stiff upper lip’ in these adverse circumstances.

So the runners are now briefed and set off even earlier today amid a flurry of time changes causing mild panic amongst some racers.  The press are briefed for an 8am start, the runners are informed it is 8:30am, either way, there is strong breeze lulling them into a false sense of security.  It is still extremely hot!

Over to the start now and we only greet 638 or so competitors today as others withdraw or are withdrawn.  The countdown is on and the dulcet tones of AC/DC’s Highway to Hell are once again piped through but not before a rendition of ‘Into the desert on a horse with no name’ which blasts through the swirling sand.

The helicopter is up and the seconds countdown.  Excitement becomes realisation that there are 32km to cover but 15 of those are sand dunes.  I’m following the leader of the pack, requesting my driver to stop intermittently to enable me to take some nice photos.  

We arrive at CP1 and the vast dunes are stretched out before us.  I enter with gusto and then remember the old adage ‘you’re not as young as you used to be’.  Climbing dunes aged 57 and in appropriate footwear leads to the inevitable falls into lava like sand.  Once again I am feeling disorganised and inadequate which appears to be the trend of my whole experience so far.  I decide to remove myself from the dunes and return to the water station.  My ears prick as I hear “Jonny!” belted out from behind a desert hat and a pair of sunnies.  My entertainment for this part of the afternoon has now been found.

I’m informed that I have a space on the Helicopter in the afternoon so I arrange for my driver to return me to basecamp.  Sadly my excitement is short lived when I am told there is a technical issue with the radios and the Helicopter is not to be found on the ground at basecamp.  What will happen now, as a scurry of French and Belgians search frantically in the open desert for either a blue or white Heli?  It turns out it will not be my day for air travel as both Helis are being used for medical emergencies.  The heat is as intense as yesterday and competitors are dropping like flies.

Back to the media tent to make contact with the real world with another basic shower in store for me a little later when it has cooled down.

We are called to an emergency briefing and are wondering what is happening? The briefing is short and definitely not sweet.

We are informed that a competitor has sadly died out on the course today.  Everyone is shocked and extremely sombre.  It is a time now for everyone now to reflect on what has happened and I can see a number of competitors questioning both their mental and physical health, as the runner next to me broke down in tears, he was one of many.