Stage 2

Some feedback from readers to date have said that I need to proof read my posts as the contain spelling mistakes and grammar errors. I know... :-( unfortunately I have been a detail man, as my Mathematics tutor from university can testify, but also it is nigh on impossible to correct mistakes in Google Blogs using an iPad so people will have bear with me till I get back to Dubai, when I will have access to a laptop...

Also, i have received some feedback from the good people of Tent 144 on the first handful of posts, and rather than appreciating me for, trying to, defend their good name, they are concerned that I am painting them in bad light. They think that I am going soft on them such that I should contain more of the good stuff..

so... By day two we had worked out the queue in the morning to ensure that we would be 'served' by the cute French bird when picking up your rations of water. We all made sure we were in her queue such that it became obvious to the other 'Watergirls' that we thought the had been hit by the ugly tree. Still, even on day two it was a well earned victory in the morning to see her cute face and piercing green eyes...

Also at this point I need to mention the excellent 'Princess Leia' and Tom; the Reps that work for Run Sahara whose job it is to make sure each British competitor maximises their experience in the desert.

Tom was the rep who was assigned to our tent so we saw a lot of him but we also saw a lot of Leia, especially as she was probably the first English person each of us saw as we went over the line.

Tom quite simply is a legend. Without him I don't know whether I would have completed the race. His instructions, given to us through the front of our tent, about the next day were a lifeline and he also doubled us as the postman, regularly handing out our emails from home.

I will always remember Leia. Mainly because she is hardcore. She has rowed solo across the Atlantic and is currently running a training camp in Lanzarote to fund her solo row across the Pacific. Secondly, and more importantly, it was how she introduced herself to Graham and I. The classic line of "hi I am Leia and I am not good at long term relationships" will live with me forever.

The long stage, stage 4, might have been the longest leg of the MDS but stage 2 was, in my opinion, the toughest. Dragging my sorry butt over three Jebels and multiple sand dunes to cover the 18 miles that day was torturous. Day one felt years ago and I knew then what competing in the MDS felt like.

Now Jebel I think means large hill in French but the word doesn't do justice to what we conquered. The first jebel was probably half the height of Canary Wharf and made entirely of sand. This took me over half hour to climb. Anyone that has used a Stepper machine in the gym will sympathise with what I am about to type. Each step was one step upwards and then 0.75 downwards, as you continuously slipped back in the sand...

On the second Jebel I felt like Frodo or Sam out of Lord of the Rings. This Jebel was probably again half the height of Canary Wharf with a 15% gradient but, unlike the first which was up and down, you were presented with a ridge when you got to the top. This ridge was probably 3-5k long with a shear drop either side.

The winner of the men's race said that the 2013 vintage of the MDS was the toughest he had done. When saying that I am sure that ridge was very much at the front of his mind. This ridge was never ending. You had to watch your footing, without sounding dramatic, as you could have plummeted to your death. I even had to climb over one competitor as she was suffering with vertigo. 

Still, half way through traversing the ridge I was passed by the French Fireman carrying the said wheelchair so I just 'manned' up and carried on.

After 'sand boarding' down the dune at the end of the ridge we were then faced with our first salt plane to get the checkpoint one. It was at this point that me and Bob got separated as he was covering the ground quicker than I was; such that he had to go on as I didn't want to slow him up.

Throughout the 3k across that salt plane all of us were gazing at the horizon and questioning whether the organisers were, seriously going to take us up what lay ahead; the biggest hill I have ever seen. As you got closer and closer you could make out a line of ants up this hill such that, then and only then, you knew you had to get up and over this to finish the day.

At this point I should mention a species of ants that live in the desert so you know how tough the MDS is. We mentioned these ants countless times in our tent. These ants have been selected and genetically modified over hundreds of million years through survival of the fittest to live in this most challenging of environments. These mutant ants who have outlasted their contemporaries only spend ten minutes at a time out in the saharan sun and the scamper under ground to cool of. We all were out in the midday sun and didn't have that luxury. Hardcore...

Once checkpoint two was over there was probably another 2k to the base of this 'mountain' by which time you could actually make out that these ants were in fact people. A quick referral with the race book said that one bit of the climb was 25% gradient and it was starting to get warm. I climbed this jebel at three in the afternoon and it was probably mid-30's in the sun.

Every couple of steps up this thing took minutes and after a handful of steps you had to sit down to catch your breath an collect your thoughts for the next bit. Surely it couldn't get any worse. However, the last bit of the climb was sand, was 25% gradient and directly in the sun. Thankfully the organisers had, kindly, provided a rope as I dragged myself up thIs in all fours.

Secretly, and I know they won't tell me, my fellow tent mates were concerned about me dropping out that day, especially as the final jebel almost broke even the fittest and toughest competitor. I even passed a couple of people who had bailed on this climb and were descending back down they way they had climbed.

I will remember the look, mainly in Graham's eyes, when I poked my head under the tent lip on arrival into camp. They knew that I had conquered that day and wouldn't give in lightly. I think at that point we looked at each other and realised that tent 144 had a good chance of having a 100% success rating, whereby we all would have completed the MDS.

I can't actually remember who got Dick of the Day that day. I think we all still stunned by Bob's admission on day one about his shorts that we felt he should still retain the 'honour'. However trust me there are some beauties to come, including Graham's "Dossard" comment. If you want to do some homework ahead of my post about stage 4 look up what Dossard means in a French-English dictionary to see if you can second guess what he did...

That night, after my recovery routine, I actually fell into a exhaustion induced deep sleep and had a good night sleep. Only to find out the next morning that I had probably kept up half the whole camp with my snoring...

TTFN...