Stage 6 was a bit weird. I have never had a medal round my neck and been told that I still had a leg to go. Technically, stage 6 wasn't part of the MDS and they said that it wasn't mandatory, especially as you had your medal. However, the organisers said that you wouldn't be able to get on the coaches back to our hotel if you didn't cover the 6k.
The morning was a sad day. We all had to say goodbye to a 6 foot by 18 foot rug, two masts and some old black fabric that had been our home for over a week. Goodbye tent 144. You will never been forgotten.
All of us were very melancholy. The obsession that had been our focus was about to end. The hours spent reading books, searching the Internet, testing kit and clothing, running miles in training, arranging fund raising and lying in bed, awake through the fear of failure was about to end. Honestly, if someone had given me two choices, do the 7k and get on a coach or run the miles back to the start I know which one I would have taken. I didn't want it to end.
Still the morning melancholy paled into significance against the general bemusement as what transpired last night...
When we had finished the cigar were staggered to the food tent. We were going to eat our first normal food in days and we were reliably informed that there would be beer. Happy days
We were faced with a long queue. The thousand competitors were joined by friends and family who had come out to see their loved ones finish the race. We had run hundreds of miles with all nationalities, sharing the adventure and the way they repaid us was by pushing in and queue jumping. I was astounded at the selfishness of some people...
During dinner I had my water card and medical card on my MDS key ring. During my desperation to get a second beer I, absent minded, threw this in the beer along with my plates and cutlery. I will mention more in my next post about the kindness of Big Dunc. Basically he gave me his...
After dinner we returned to our tent. About 200 metres from our tent a French-Canadian rock band, 'Ten Foot Pole' we running through their sound check. At this point, dusk they put on the big screen a first cut of the 2013 DVD covering the race. It was quite surreal and we all felt like it was an out of body experience. Was that me? Did I really complete the MDS? Even though it was only a matter of hours ago that we got our medals it felt like years ago.
At this point I had to use the 'toilet'. I think after days of eating freeze-dried food my stomach was struggling to digest normal food. Now I need to describe the 'toilets'. Basically they we like a commode such that you took a brown bag, nicknamed 'Bag De Crappe', put it inside the seat, done your business and then tied the top and chucked it in a bin. You were spared your modesty by sitting inside a tarpaulin shaped like a wind break. The hardest thing during the MDS was going to the toilet, at night during a sandstorm. The trick was to put a heavy stone inside the back to avoid splash back...
At the point that I was in the toilet the DVD ended such that hundreds of people were stampeding back to their tents passed one of the toilet area. My tent mates informed me, when I got back, that, because it was dark and people were wearing head torches, they could make out a silhouette of me wiping my bottom. Charming...
After laughing for a few minutes about the embarassment of nearly one thousand people seeing me on the toilet the band started their set. Not only were they terrible (I think they were only booked as they spoke French and English) the singer said a comment that will stay with me for ever. The singer, not knowing her audience, bemoaned the fact that she was wearing the wrong shoes and it was making her feet hurt. Still to this day I don't know whether it was a planned joke or whether it was a faus par.
The last thing to mention that night was the disbelief that, after the band finished 1am, that the roadies then spent the entire night dismantling the stage. I slept but I know a few of the lighter sleepers in our tent didn't sleep a wink all night...
After leaving our tent for the last time. We went to the start line to witness the presentations. Our Jo came second and was up on the podium. I would be fist pumping like mad and be making a general tit out of myself but Jo took everything in her stride and remained very modest.
After the presentation the last stage of the MDS commenced and, as it was untimed, pretty much everyone walked the stage with their tent mates. Mat was greated by his girfriend at the finish line in a touching moment and then we were all hearded onto a coach back to civilisation. The MDS was over.
The next post will focus on the journey back to normality; both physically and mentally.
MasaAalama...
The morning was a sad day. We all had to say goodbye to a 6 foot by 18 foot rug, two masts and some old black fabric that had been our home for over a week. Goodbye tent 144. You will never been forgotten.
All of us were very melancholy. The obsession that had been our focus was about to end. The hours spent reading books, searching the Internet, testing kit and clothing, running miles in training, arranging fund raising and lying in bed, awake through the fear of failure was about to end. Honestly, if someone had given me two choices, do the 7k and get on a coach or run the miles back to the start I know which one I would have taken. I didn't want it to end.
Still the morning melancholy paled into significance against the general bemusement as what transpired last night...
When we had finished the cigar were staggered to the food tent. We were going to eat our first normal food in days and we were reliably informed that there would be beer. Happy days
We were faced with a long queue. The thousand competitors were joined by friends and family who had come out to see their loved ones finish the race. We had run hundreds of miles with all nationalities, sharing the adventure and the way they repaid us was by pushing in and queue jumping. I was astounded at the selfishness of some people...
During dinner I had my water card and medical card on my MDS key ring. During my desperation to get a second beer I, absent minded, threw this in the beer along with my plates and cutlery. I will mention more in my next post about the kindness of Big Dunc. Basically he gave me his...
After dinner we returned to our tent. About 200 metres from our tent a French-Canadian rock band, 'Ten Foot Pole' we running through their sound check. At this point, dusk they put on the big screen a first cut of the 2013 DVD covering the race. It was quite surreal and we all felt like it was an out of body experience. Was that me? Did I really complete the MDS? Even though it was only a matter of hours ago that we got our medals it felt like years ago.
At this point I had to use the 'toilet'. I think after days of eating freeze-dried food my stomach was struggling to digest normal food. Now I need to describe the 'toilets'. Basically they we like a commode such that you took a brown bag, nicknamed 'Bag De Crappe', put it inside the seat, done your business and then tied the top and chucked it in a bin. You were spared your modesty by sitting inside a tarpaulin shaped like a wind break. The hardest thing during the MDS was going to the toilet, at night during a sandstorm. The trick was to put a heavy stone inside the back to avoid splash back...
At the point that I was in the toilet the DVD ended such that hundreds of people were stampeding back to their tents passed one of the toilet area. My tent mates informed me, when I got back, that, because it was dark and people were wearing head torches, they could make out a silhouette of me wiping my bottom. Charming...
After laughing for a few minutes about the embarassment of nearly one thousand people seeing me on the toilet the band started their set. Not only were they terrible (I think they were only booked as they spoke French and English) the singer said a comment that will stay with me for ever. The singer, not knowing her audience, bemoaned the fact that she was wearing the wrong shoes and it was making her feet hurt. Still to this day I don't know whether it was a planned joke or whether it was a faus par.
The last thing to mention that night was the disbelief that, after the band finished 1am, that the roadies then spent the entire night dismantling the stage. I slept but I know a few of the lighter sleepers in our tent didn't sleep a wink all night...
After leaving our tent for the last time. We went to the start line to witness the presentations. Our Jo came second and was up on the podium. I would be fist pumping like mad and be making a general tit out of myself but Jo took everything in her stride and remained very modest.
After the presentation the last stage of the MDS commenced and, as it was untimed, pretty much everyone walked the stage with their tent mates. Mat was greated by his girfriend at the finish line in a touching moment and then we were all hearded onto a coach back to civilisation. The MDS was over.
The next post will focus on the journey back to normality; both physically and mentally.
MasaAalama...
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