THE MARATHON DE SABLES
A tale of Endurance, stubbornness and a whole new different way of life!

Where to start when such an epic journey is to be told!

The journey began a long time ago really, the seed was planted after reading a book by an Ultramarathon legend.  I then set about a series of challenges to find out if anyone could do these amazing things or if you needed to be an elite athlete.  What I soon realised was it is in us all to achieve great accomplishments and amazing feats of endurance, you just need to believe you can and want it more than anything or anyone.  Our bodies can go through extreme levels of pain and can endure such levels of exhaustion.  My challenge began with distance, I wanted to be able to show that an ordinary person i.e. me can complete a 100 mile endurance race.  This soon developed into even greater challenges testing not only fitness levels but having the challenge of differing environments with the elements adding even greater difficulty.  So, The Marathon de Sables it was to be!

On Thursday April 6th 2017, I set off from York Station, duffel bag and MdS rucksack in tow.  Standing waiting for the train, excitement and apprehension written all over my face.  Whats going through my mind as I'm about to set off on this journey of a lifetime, a little bit of fear for the unknown, apprehension and wondering if I'm in too deep and can I actually do this, excitement for the forth coming adventure, and yes of course constantly going through my mental kit checklist.  Have I got everything, what have I left behind, what if I haven't thought of every eventuality!  I waved goodbye to my slightly worried parents and that was it, this was what I have been planning for, training for and getting mentally prepared for, 3 years in the planning and we're off!

My first great challenge, and to be honest I had more worries about this than the MdS and this was crossing London and not missing my trains.  The underground was going to be my greatest challenge yet but I was ready for it ha ha!  After being picked up and driven back to my sisters home by her fiancée Justin I was able to relax and yes you guessed it I went through my kit again.  Oh how I will be glad when I don't have to check my kit any more lol! With the prospect of getting up at 3am so we could be off to Gatwick airport on time meant for an early night, would I be able to sleep, that's right, no chance!!!

Arriving at the airport was fun I was actually excited now, seeing other people being dropped off by loved ones and carrying there yellow and black MdS packs made it all good fun we were like cattle gathering.  I checked in and got rid of my bag before saying my goodbyes, then wandered through to the departure lounge where all the other mds'ers were hovering and buzzing round.  This was is it, I was really there, I couldn't quite believe it I think.  It didn't seem real, but it was it was happening there and then.

The idea had been to try and meet up with a couple of the other lads before I headed off, I managed to bump into Matt who I'd met at Leeds Uni whilst doing the heat chamber training but the other boys were on the later flight so I was just getting random messages like 'which airport are we going from?' or 'ooops I've forgotten my hairdryer!' etc etc.  Very amusing and made it all a little less daunting.  So straight from the departure lounge to boarding, my number had been called so on I went, not much time to meet anyone to be fair.  Perfect, I got the aisle seat!  I ended up with two other lads who seemed good quality, we had a bit of a laugh and got all the normally apprehensive jokes out of the way.  I was keen to see if I would see them both by the end of the week, one lad for sure as was a squaddie but seemed to have his head screwed on about it where as the other lad seemed to be winging it a little bit too much.  One of his comments was regarding his Velcro for his gaiters, his words were 'yep, did mine last night at a mates and just used glue but did it myself!' in my eyes this did not bode well but I hope he finished he seemed a nice guy.

From Ouazarate airport we were bundled on to coaches that were to take us to the bivouac, I already knew this was going to be a long journey, it was in the travel documents saying around 6 hours aaarrrggghhh!  My knee was already playing up from the plane so this wasn't going to be much fun.  I sat with Matt and got shuffed in next to the window, an incredibly squashed position the seats seemed so close to each other.  The coach trip was apart from quite painful, also quite an eye opener, a nice little introduction to Morocco before the desert descended upon us.  During the trip we were given a few bits of vital kit and information regarding camp and tents.  They were trying to get us all sorted into groups of 8 for the tent but I wasn't with my friends or the people I had arranged to be with so I just kept quiet.  We were given our first quota of 'bag de kakka' of which there was two.  Without going into too much detail these were for toilet needs (you'll have to use your imagination'.  After a couple of hours we stopped for a quick toilet break, being British I thought there might be some kind of rule like 'women to the left and men to the right' but no, this was my first eye opener.

It was very random and pretty much just go wherever you want and in full view of everyone lol!  The next stop was for food, we were each given what looked like a shoe box full of dates, but it actually turned out to be a build your own sandwich with meat and salad, some fruit and biscuits and a carton drink.  To be fair I thought it was fine more than adequate and did the job.  We were already getting into the habit of anti-bacing our hands at all opportunities as this became more and more important the more we became isolated, self sufficient and vulnerable to picking up germs.

It wasn't long, well I mean about 6 hours lol, before we arrived at the Bivouac, we all departed the coaches grabbing our kit bags and a bottle of water.  The idea now was to register yourself and tent mates and be designated a tent number.  Mmm this could be interesting as I was on my own, the other lads were on the next coach and I couldn't see Joe any where.  So my turn, in my best mixed up francais/anglais I blagged a tent for my buddies and me so off I trotted.  If only it had been that easy!  I still couldn't find Joe and his mate so after going backwards and forwards a few times covering a couple of kilometres already I decided that enough was enough.  I bagged a tent, plonked all my kit and decided I was just going to go and tell them I'm in tent '126' and I was waiting for my mates.  I quickly grabbed Paul and Tim who brought along John and we went to the tent.  Only to find another group had been assigned to 126, but I soon fought for our tent and moved them on.  I was already in protective battle mode, 'don't mess!!' Tim and Paul were shell shocked, a little taken back by my protectiveness but if they'd  walked back and forewards with all there kit as many times as I did they too would have been the same I'd like to think.  We all collapsed and sprawled out in our tent expecting others to join us.  They didn't come, the tent was ours!