MDS 2009 - James
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Job Done
Back in time for tea and medals...
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
The Last Post
Well this is it, my last blog before heading off to the desert.
The last few days have been spent scurrying around packing, weighing, unpacking, re-weighing, and repacking kit. Despite all the months of thought and preparation that I've put into my kit there are always a few last minute surprises and changes.
Keith will pick me up in under an hour before we collect Seamus and make tracks for the airport. Before we go I'd like to thank everyone who has donated to Maggie's, attended ceilidhs and quizzes, donated bits of kit and services, and for your general good will and support. The last two items are light to carry so I will take them to the desert with me and turn to them when times are hard.
In the words of John Denver:
All my bags are packed
I'm ready to go...
...'cause I'm leavin' on a jet plane
don't know when I'll be back again...
Monday, March 16, 2009
Taper Capers
With under two weeks to go until the 24th edition of MDS starts we are all well in to our tapers. For the unintiated that means doing a lot less training so that we are fully rested when the gun goes off.
Seamus and I walked from Perth to Dundee yesterday to get a last big distance in without too much stress or strain on our bodies. Unfortunately my back has had a bad reaction to the session and has tightened up to the extent that I'm in a fair bit of discomfort.
Just as well then that my taper involves a series of massages. Lesley Dawson at Heal Physiotherapy has the unfortunate task of ironing out all the lumps and bumps in my muscles. I know its doing me some good as it hurts like hell ;-)
The final aspect of my taper revolves around my diet. Out goes wholemeal bread, pasta, and fruit. In comes pizza, pies, burgers, and crisps. My reasoning is that I will crave junk-food in the desert so I'm eating as much as I can now to lessen the withdrawal symptoms. I'm sure that my logic will stand up to scrutiny!
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Cold Comfort
Training has been going really well recently. The miles have been building up and the waistline shrinking down. Up until two weeks ago I was full of confidence and looking forward to getting in a 100+ mile training week as a final blast before starting my taper towards the big race.
Unfortunately after an hour or so on a flight down to London I caught an absolute stinker of a cold. I woke up the other Friday feeling like my head was being squeezed in a vice while my lungs were pulled out through my nose. There ended all ambitions to run some big miles.
The cold cost me a whole week's training and I'm still not feeling 100%.
Sunday saw the last long training run of note when I ran 26 miles with an 8 kg rucksack. It was a painful experience. My heart rate was higher than normal due the lingering after effects of the cold and my legs were heavy and sluggish to the extent that I struggled to run the last few hundred yards.
It was also psychologically tough as the route I took involved running two laps from my house up through Auchterhouse. Not only are there a few serious hills on the route, the fact that I had to run past my house at the start of the second lap was tough. All I wanted to do was stop and lie down. I managed to push on though and finished in 4 hours 35 minutes.
I was totally exhausted and spent the next few hours crashed out on my bed. When I got up and moved around again it became obvious that I had aggravated an old injury. My quadriceps had felt quite tight during the run and sure enough my right quad had placed too much strain on the point where it attaches to the shin bone. The consequence was a painful lump. The good news is that with some stretching and mobility exercises it should be fine by the time I get to the desert.
So that's really the end of the training regime and all I'll be doing now is the occasional light run and speed session to hold my form.
Do I feel like I have done all the training I could have? No. I don't suppose that many athletes achieve this. Illness, injury, and life in general always manage to get in the way.
Do I feel like I have done enough training to finish the MDS. Yes. Well I hope so anyway. We'll all find out in less than a month's time!
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Testing Times
As part of our ongoing work with the University of Dundee's Institute of Sport and Exercise we find ourselves the subjects of two student projects this year. Fiona and Emilia are the two young ladies that have been putting us through our paces.
Fiona's project is based around heat acclimatisation and nutrition. As such we've been in lab running with the heating whacked up to produce an ambient air temperature of just over 30 degrees. The cosy feeling having just stepped in to the lab from the freezing winter weather is soon replaced by an increase in body temperature and a rapid sweat rate. My top was so soaked that I had trouble taking it off after the session!
The other part of Fiona's project is nutrition and so we were asked to keep detailed food and exercise diaries for a week. It will be interesting to see the results of that :-)
Emilia is looking at our training plans which can mean only one thing - more lactate and VO2max tests. We all hate these tests. We spend the first half hour having blood samples taken while running at an increasing intensity. When that's finished the intensity is ramped up even more every minute until we can't take another step. All this time we have to wear a tight fitting rubber mask around our nose and mouth so that our oxygen consumption can be measured.
Whilst truly horrible to endure, these tests provide valuable data about how our bodies are responding to our training. The good news is that our scores improved across the board. We all now run more efficiently and produce less fatigue inducing toxins than previously. This means we should be able to run further without feeling the ill effects of lactic acid.
From the results of these tests Emilia has produced individual training plans for the three of us. They represent a real step up in intensity if not mileage. One of the things we have now realised is that it's not the amount of training that's important it's the quality. Having said that it looks like we'll be doing large amounts of quality training from now on.
To give an example I normally run 10 miles with a heart rate of around 150 bpm. The plan now calls for a rate of 165 bpm. On my first run at this pace I was 7 minutes quicker than before.
We'll all be back in the lab in January to see if the training plan has made an improvement in our performance. I can't wait...
Monday, September 8, 2008
Devil O' The Highlands
Falling only a couple of weeks after our Spanish training camp I was feeling pretty fit going into this 43 mile race across the West Highlands. I still felt a little nervous though. having previously walked this route as part of the West Highland Way I knew exactly how demanding the terrain would be. When we walked the route it took us two days to cover the distance between Tyndrum and Fort William. This time we would have a maximum of 12 hours to do the same.
We arrived in Tyndrum early on Friday evening to make sure that we had a relaxing pre-race build up. We were joined by our support crew of Andy and Kenney (the gingers) who were required as part of the race rules. A big thank you goes out to you guys. Without your help and support we could not have entered this race.
After a hearty meal Keith retired to the bunkhouse to get some kip. I stayed out with Seamus and the gingers for a few pints of Guinness and some games of pool. It also gave us a chance to relax and catch up with some runner friends.
Despite the black sedative I found sleep hard to come by and I felt that I lay awake for an eternity before finally falling asleep moments before our mobile phones all erupted into a cacophony of alarms.
I showered, had a light breakfast and woozily staggered across to the Green Welly Stop for the pre-race briefing. With the formalities over and the photos taken we were on the start line waiting for the gun.
I jokingly told Andy and Kenney that I'd see them at Bridge of Orchy in under an hour. We shared a round of good luck wishes with a couple of other 2009 MDS runners, Ivan, Rab, and Mike, and then we were off.
I decided that I was going to run my own race according to my heart rate and how I was feeling. To that end I plugged my iPod in straight away and shut myself away behind the music.
The trail to Bridge of Orchy is relatively flat and mostly good track. I found myself making steady progress and matched pace with a lady runner from Fife called Gail. Chatting with Gail helped pass the time and we went through Bridge of Orchy in around 55 minutes well under the hour that I'd joke about earlier. Perhaps this should have served as a wee warning sign.
Immediately after leaving the bridge there is a fairly steep climb through a midge infested pine forest. At this point Graham Kelly (ran the MDS this year) appeared out of the trees after taking a 'comfort break' The three of us made good progress and eventually hit the downhill into King's House and checkpoint 1.
I spotted our support team wrapped up against the driving rain and headed for them. I asked them for one of my bottles of pre-mixed Nuun electrolyte drink. They exchanged a glance and then admitted that they'd left it in the car - would plain water do instead? I grumpily took the water an pushed on. I shouldn't have been angry with the guys considering the sacrifices they were making but when your soaked to the skin having ran 10 miles with a further 33 to go you tend to be a bit selfish. Sorry guys!
Gail was in a much worse position. Her support team were not there yet and so she could not replenish her sports drink or food. I offered some of my kit but she decided to push on with what she had.
We ran together until we reached the foot of the Devil's Staircase - a steep climb up a mountainside towards the highest point on the route. The early pace was catching up with me now and I didn't have the energy or power to attack the climb. I had to be sensible and conserve my efforts so I slowed to a walk for the duration of the climb. Gail drove on and soon disappeared out of sight. Graham, who had taken longer at the CP also caught and passed me at this point.
I was relieved to finally reach the top of the climb and let my heart rate slow down to something a bit more sustainable. The next stage was quite a pleasant undulating rocky track. My spirits were raised further when I realised that I was catching an athlete ahead of me. When I finally did catch him he was clearly hobbling. I stopped to check on him and he was suffering after slipping on the wet rocks. I gave him a couple of super-strength pain killers and wished him good luck.
The stretch between the staircase and Kinlochleven is in my humble opinion the scenic highlight of the West Highland way. The view across the Maidens and the Nevis range is spectacular and the you are presented with a bird's eye view of the gorge leading towards Kinlochleven. Even the the most knackered runner must have been lifted by that.
Before the decent into Kinlochleven there is a section of solid rock which was treacherous in the wet conditions we were running through. Whilst traversing the rocks I caught sight of Gail again. Once clear of the rocks I passed the 'Penstock' a small facility that filters debris out of the water destined for the hydroelectric plant in the glen below. At this point the terrain turns quickly downwards into a serious downhill track with tight hairpin bends. The track is so steep that, with my headphones in I could hear the impact of each foot-fall slamming through my body. I did some damage to my right knee on this section.
Gail wasn't quite as quick on the downhill as she was on the up so I managed to catch up with her for the run in to Checkpoint 2 at Kinlochleven. I spotted Kenney and Andy and headed towards them. I thrust my rucksack at Andy and promptly departed to make use of the local pub's facilities. The bar staff were taking a smoking break outside the Tailrace Inn and gave me an up and down look that said 'no way sunshine'. I was clad in lycra and soaked to the skin - not exactly the ideal patron. After I promised to make a donation to their charity box the ladies relented and I was admitted. When I met up with the support crew again I fully intended to ask one of them to stick a fiver in the charity box but I forgot in the rush to get back on the course. Next time I'm up that way I'll make the donation!
Due to my toilet stop Gail was long gone by the time I hit the trail again. The next, and final, stage was 15 miles long and started on a long steep uphill section. In an effort to conserve some energy I walked all of the hill. Once at the top of the climb the terrain gave way to an undulating narrow rocky track that wove its way through Glen Nevis.
This section was mentally tough, the view was pleasant without being spectacular and the track seemed to go on for ever. I tried really hard to concentrate on the ground immediately in from of me an pushed thoughts of the finishing line to the back of my mind.
I passed lots of bewildered walkers labouring underneath huge rucksacks but I didn't see another runner for a long time. Eventually George Reid, whom I'd had the pleasure of running with before, caught and passed me. He his tactic was to start easy and finish strongly. He went on to finish well ahead of me with an impressive negative split (second half of the race quicker than the first).
After eight or nine miles the track enters a forested area and the track benefits from a cushion of pine needles. Physcologically reaching this point was a big boost after the tedium of the track. By now my legs were in real pain and I wasn't moving very quickly at all. I found myself walking even the most shallow hill and trotting the flats and downhills.
Finally the track settled into a long downhill section which signalled the final few miles into Fort William. I passed another runner on this section which lifted my spirits. I wasn't really racing for position but seeing someone in more pain than I was made me feel a little better about my own condition.
I longed to see the road that would carry me along the last mile of the race and eventually the track came to an end in a small car park. I was surprised and delighted to see Andy and Kenney waiting for me there. I had consumed all of my water a couple of miles back and was really thirsty. However, when I asked them for some water they exchanged a sheepish glance and then admitted that they hadn't though of bringing any! I shook my head and kept on moving. Fortunately another support crew were kind enough to share some of their water with me and, suitably quenched, I continued.
Andy and Kenney had left the car at the finish and so ran back with me. Scarily I managed to drop Andy despite having ran 42 miles already - sorry mate :-)
I put in a big effort to run the whole of the last mile and my body was racked with pain. I thought I still had a few more bends to run when unbelievably the finish line appeared before me. I had to pinch myself to be sure that I wasn't hallucinating. I dug deep again and put in a final glory sprint to the line.
As I crossed the finish line all the effort and toil of the day took its toll. I was almost immobile with pain. lactic acid filled every muscle and I was cramping all over. It was worth it though and I felt very emotional at having completed such a gruelling challenge.
I looked up at the clock and saw my time - 7:53:42. I was delighted at completing the distance in under eight hours. That gave me an overall placing of 25th, much higher than I thought possible at the start of the day. To put my time in perspective the winning time was an amazing 5:22:24 and the longest time was 10:57:56.
The guys helped to the car and I collapsed into the back seat. I took me an age to get out of the wet gear and changed into my dry kit. I then tries to keep mobile so that I didn't completely immobilise.
About an hour after I finished Seamus crossed the line along with Rab Lee and Ivan Kissane, another two 2009 MDSers. He told me that he had stuck with Keith until Kinlochleven where Keith abandoned. I was gutted that Keith had withdrawn. I know how much effort he had put into the race.
However, it soon transpired that Keith had quickly changed his mind and decided to push on. After an hour or so we decided that Kenney and Andy should drive up to an accessible part of the trail and have a look for him. They dropped Seamus and I off at the hotel first and headed off.
After a spot of miscommunication we realised that Keith was ok and had reached the finish. He's had a real tough time of it and had vomited a couple of times. He held on tight though and made it all the way to the line. His was not a fast race but if you ask me it was pretty damn courageous!
After a short nap and a shower we headed out into Fort William for a few pints and bite to eat. It was a good opportunity to meet up with some of the other guys racing across the desert next year and we all had a good time. The only tough part was having to stand up in the pub. My legs ached constantly and it was a great relief to finally turn in for the night and get some kip.
The Devil O' The Highlands lived up to it's reputation as a tough as hell race and I'm glad that we all made it through in one piece. I'm sure it will stand us in good stead for the MDS.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
MDS Training Camp Andalucia
I'm glad to report that we all made it back in one piece from our hot weather training in Anadalucia. I think that this week will, for all of us, prove to be a bit of a turning point in our preparation for the MDS. Training and racing in the UK are the bedrock of that preparation but they cannot possibly replicate the conditions, especially the heat, of the desert.
Despite a worrying back injury Keith passed a last minute check-up by the physio and was able to travel. Seamus and I did raise the question of the seriousness of this injury and whether it was actually a rouse to trick us into digging his garden!
After an uneventful flight we were greeted in Malaga by Paul and Fulvio, our hosts and guides for the week. It would not take too long for us to discover just what good hosts and fine athletes these guys are. After an hour's drive from the airport we arrived at our home for the week in rural Andalucia and met up with the fourth member of the training party, Rose, and Paul's partner Barbara. After a light meal and some conversation we retired to get some rest before
our first test in the heat.
Although first up the stairs, a position that would normally allow first dibs on the best bed, I conceded the larger bed and single room to Keith because of his bad back. I questioned this decision quite a lot during the night as struggled to fall asleep in the warmer twin room. As is usual in these circumstance I fell asleep just as it was time to rise. My lack of sleep did not make for a good mood and I started grumbling about the noisy nocturnal fauna which for the most part if not getting shagged was getting eaten!
Thankfully it was not easy to stay grumpy when the 8 o'clock sunshine was splitting the pavements.
The first run of the camp was around 12 miles long and featured a couple of longish climbs through olive groves. It felt good to be running freely after the cramped travelling conditions the previous day. Instantly the heat was very obvious, even at such an early hour. I didn't want to push too hard for fear of suffering later but thankfully I felt fine while holding a decent pace. As we started up the first hill I began to slow to a brisk walk but I soon felt Fulvio's hand gently push into my back. Clearly we were going to have to push a little harder and Seamus and I picked up the pace to a trot again. I was wearing my heart rate monitor and was keeping a close eye on it. Once my hear rate gets up to around 175 bpm I start to produce lactate acid quicker than it can be cleared out and that means a lot of pain.
This wasn't too much of a worry though as we had to keep the group reasonably tight to make sure that nobody got lost and so there were regular rests as we waited for Keith and Rose to catch up.
The route ended with a very steep downhill section into Santa Cruz which was most welcome. So that was day 1's running complete and everyone had come through it without incident, a pretty good result.
That night after Barbara’s lovely dinner Fulvio gave us a talk on kit selection and walked us through every item that he took to the desert. It was a bit of an education. Although I thought that we had most of the items well understood Fulvio showed us a whole new level in managing kit. Some very valuable lessons were learned in that couple of hours. Keith was absolutely delighted when we eventually got one over on Fulvio: our 6g knife was lighter than his 8g knife!
Day 2, and the mileage went up to around 20 miles and the terrain got tougher. After a short flat section we were soon climbing a 1:10 ascent which called for far more walking than running. Once at checkpoint 1 at the top we were treated to a long downhill to loosen our tight legs. The relief was temporary though as the terrain once again turned upwards and did not relent. At checkpoint 2 we were surprised to find Paul, Fulvio, and Rose all waiting for us. Rose had sneaked into the back of the wagon to catch up. This wouldn't be the last episode of hitch hiking. Keith was already suffering with the heat and fortunately there was a spring for him to dunk his head in.
After CP2 I wanted to push on a bit and left Seamus and Keith until I had to stop at a junction and consult the map. I misinterpretation of my location meant that I choose the wrong fork and headed left. Seamus crested the brow of the hill behind me and foolishly followed me. Luckily he started to question the route choice and so we too another look at the map. We realised we had gone the wrong way and started to retreat back down the hill where we found Keith. He maintained that the original route was correct but was outvoted. I think his analysis had more to do with not wanting to lose all the hard gained height and distance than map reading.
The slope was unrelenting and there were very few opportunities to run this section. I was relieved to spot Paul off in the high distance which confirmed our final route selection. By this time Seamus and I had pulled out a bit of a lead on Keith and we cleared the CP before he arrived. The climbing kept going though and pressed on. After a while Paul passed us in the van and we saw a tired looking Keith sitting in the back. Seamus also started to feel fatigued and was suffering from trapped wind. As the gradient increased I noticed he was slowing significantly. I placed my hand on his back and gave him a light push. To my surprise he accepted the ssistance which meant he must have been hurting as he's normally single minded and doesn’t accept help easily. When we arrived at the final checkpoint Keith was already sitting in the shade of some almond trees recovering from the heat of the day. We joined him and took the chance to take on additional fluids and the guys ate there lunch. I had chosen not to bring lunch as such but to just graze on sweets throughout the day so as to avoid stomach cramps. This worked well for me but it's not everyone's choice. After a while Rose and Fulvio joined us just in time for Seamus' trapped wind to un-trap itself. This was a signal for the rest of the boys to follow suit. Sorry Rose, but you'll have to get used to that when you’re sharing a tent with seven in the desert! To add insult to injury as soon as Rose confessed an aversion to snakes I threw Keith's snake-like cooling aid at her. She made the yogic flyers look like amateurs with an impressive seated jump. Laugh? I nearly cried.
The checkpoint represented the highest point on the route so it was mostly downhill on the way back. However, we still didn't really hit top speed. Seamus was a bit wobbly and sought the brief shade of a lonely tree at every opportunity and Keith and Rose fell behind. As our destination, a small village, came into view Paul passed us in the van and again Keith had found refuge there. The stifling heat had taken its toll. When we arrived in the village the cold drinks and ice cream were most welcome.
On day 3 we were joined by Paul’s friend Tony who is considering doing the MDS next year. Today saw a drop in intensity as we trekked a route through a beautiful rugged canyon. At some stages the rocky canyon walls hugged the path so tightly that iron hand rails had been fastened to them to aid passage. Although the pace was lower the paths were steep and the canyon was a heat trap. I had decided to take Paul's advice and try out a full length compression top and tights. I found them to be very comfortable even when the mercury was climbing past 40 degrees. They held my sweat close to my body where it can be most effective and maximise the cooling effect.
Not so cool was Keith; by the time we reached the cafe at the top of the gorge he was overheating again. I thought he was going to lose it with the waiter who did not seem in any hurry to fetch Keith's order of cold drinks. However, the drinks eventually appeared and the waiter survived. Keith was given the option of waiting for a lift home or pushing on. He chose to push on.
The descent was just as spectacular as the climb had been. We wove our way down a dusty track the zig-zagged back and forward into the gorge below.
I took the opportunity with Seamus and Fulvio to open up a bit and run part of the way back. Counter-intuitively I felt cooler when I was running. Although I must have been generating more heat the breeze created by the greater speed more than compensated. While Seamus and I waited by a stream Fulvio ran back up the hill to meet the others. I guess he needed a harder workout than we were giving him. When Keith caught up with us it was obvious that he was struggling big time. His body language just screamed pain and his face had suffering written all over it. The acid test for just how bad he is to ask him. There was no reply. That means it was bad. With no other option but to finish under his own steam (and steam there was) it was important to get him cooled down. The most efficient method is the consumption of water but that was out of the question as his stomach couldn't handle it. I figured that I had more than enough water to get me to the end so I poured a whole bottle over Keith's head and neck. It seemed to do the trick and he battled on. By the time we got back to the van the temporary relief provided by the drenching had gone and Keith already nauseous started to vomit. We loaded into the van and headed back to the petrol station where we had picked Tony up earlier. Keith tried to intimate to Paul that he needed an ice lolly but he couldn't form the words. Funnily enough though he managed to find enough energy reserves to chastise us in the back for talking about food! Eventually we arrived at the petrol station and the ice lollies were devoured.
It had been a long day for all of us and we had seen some spectacular scenery but for Keith the heat had just been too much and he reluctantly took the decision to take a rest day before coming back for the long day two days hence. That wasn't an easy option considering the propensity amongst the boys to take the piss with helpful comments such as 'dry your eyes' and 'toughen up'. Fulvio wins the award for best put down of the week though.
Fulvio: Keith, you've invested a lot in the MDS yes?
Keith: Yes.
Fulvio: A lot of time and money and effort?
Keith: Yes.
Fulvio: So why not invest some more and lose some weight!
Everyone: Pissed ourselves laughing.
On Day 4 we tackled Hell's Path. For those of you familiar with the West Highland Way think of the Devil's Staircase on steroids. Once again it was hot, very hot, and as was becoming predictable with Paul's routes we started on an uphill section that just never seemed to stop. To begin with Paul stayed with Rose while Fulvio kept company with Seamus and me. This allowed us to push a bit harder and run all but the toughest uphill sections. It felt great to running hard again. Every so often we would stop to wait for Rose and Paul to catch up and make sure we were still heading in the correct direction. At one stop we found a natural spring with wonderfully clear pure and most importantly cool water. We took the opportunity to fill our water bottles with the cool water and we soaked our hats and neck coolers. Some park rangers stopped at our oasis to freshen up as well. They just laughed and looked at us like we were crazy when Fulvio told them what we were doing. We made a push to the top of Hell's Path and waited on Rose and Paul again. Paul appeared round the corner first and was closely followed by Rose. As they drew closer we could see that Paul was towing Rose on a bungee cord. He explained that this is a tactic used by adventure racing teams to aid a slower team member and increase the pace of the team as a whole. He recommended we try it out in training back home.
The next stretch was probably the most enjoyable of the week a long rolling trail shaded by tall trees that climbed to the next peak. I started to trot and then run and before long I had a good rhythm going. I found that I could maintain my pace on the uphills as well as the flats and it was a great relief to feel that strong after three days and a lot of miles. Seamus wasn't far behind and we settled down for lunch in the shade of some trees. When Paul and Rose caught up Paul told us that we had reached the outmost point of the trail and would be working our way back to Hell's Path. That meant two things: lots of downhills and easy to follow directions which allowed Seamus and me to press on at pace. In fact perhaps too much pace as Seamus took a nose dive on one of the loose rock sections. Fortunately not much damage was done. We did have a bigger incentive to descend quickly than normal: the spring that we had found earlier was just down the hill. It was even better the second time round. You can see from the photo that perhaps Seamus and I needn't have carried quite so much in the way of water reserves.
From there it was a short trot back to the van. Seamus and I rested under a tree not far from the van. Did I mention that he liked the shade? When Rose, being towed by Fulvio this time, arrived she looked pretty tired. Fulvio asked her for one final effort to run the last five kilometres. Rose drew herself up to her full 4' 11" (only kidding) and prepared to give it one last go. Her face was a picture when she took off only to see the van parked a hundred yards away.
We ended the day with another beautiful gorge walk. At some points we found ancient dwellings carved directly into the caves. Although they were all empty Paul assured us that they had been in full time use until quite recently. A few rounds of cold drinks and ice cream in the village at the end of the gorge nicely finished off a very satisfying day.
Day 5, the long day, this is what we faced: 50 kilometres over rough ground up and down, up and down. The temperature would hit 42 degrees and the humidity was higher than normal. Not quite the 70 Km that we'll face in the MDS but close enough for jazz.
Keith decided that the only way he would make it round was to walk the whole distance. No running. This was a bit of frustration for me to be honest. I would have preferred to move faster but there was little point in splitting the group. With Rose slower still I would not have been able to move too far ahead without having to stop and wait to catch up. So walking it was.
We set off at a brisk pace and soon a sizeable gap opened up between the three of us and Rose and Fulvio. We even managed a short run down to CP 1 where Paul welcomed us with cool bottles of water which were a great boost. Keith was starting to cook and what water he didn't drink went over his head. The next leg was pretty flat through farmland and a stud farm that looked like the kind of place a lottery winner with poor taste would build. They must have used up all the pink paint in Spain. The next checkpoint was in a small village and we waited at a bar for Rose. Keith demolished a vast quantity of Coca Cola and water. Seamus and I also took the opportunity to have some ice cold lemonade. Okay, so there won't be any tavernas in the desert but this was supposed to be a flavour of the MDS not a full on dress rehearsal and any relief from the heat was welcome. We were joined at our table by an ex-pat. To be honest I could have seen her far enough and couldn't believe it when she lit up a cigarette. Keith and I left Seamus to do the talking.
Rose and Fulvio arrived after half an hour or so an we waited a while before setting out. As we left the village the gap did not grow as much as before, especially when Fulvio showed Rose some 'more direct' routes. The temperature kept on rising and rising and our pace slowed in response. We had been on the go for about six or seven hours at this point and fatigue was an issue. Once again at CP 3 we sought shelter from the blazing sun in a bar. Keith headed straight for the spot directly underneath the air conditioning unit and once again copious amounts of cold drinks were consumed. Keith’s thirst was so great that he had to go to the bar to get a second round in. Seamus and I sat back and enjoyed the spectacle that was the Fat Lad struggling to order in Spanish.
As before we stayed a while once Rose and Fulvio caught up then headed out into the heat again. Fortunately time was marching on, even if we weren’t, which meant that the worst of the heat had just about passed.
Paul told us that we had a long slow climb ahead and I think this may have been praying on Keith’s mind. My mental approach to things was to move when Paul told me to move and stop when he told me to stop. Thinking about anything else wouldn’t improve the situation any. Seamus has always had this kind of attitude. He never wants to know how far there is left to go or for how long he’s been going. Keith on the other hand tends to study routes more thoroughly and plans times and speeds. I think over-planning creates an increased level of anxiety which can contribute to physical manifestations of fatigue. If you worry about being exhausted going up the big hill chances are you will be.
Our pace slowed as we climbed the hill. By now Keith was in his non-responsive mood. From experience there is nothing we can say or do to change this so we just have to let him work it out on his own and keep an eye on him. We arrived at the final checkpoint without further incident and stocked up on our final ration of water for the last 10 kilometres.
The pace was slow but steady and we just kept moving. Keith was hurting but he was also fighting.
I had felt some discomfort in my feet a while back and it was getting worse now. My fingers had also started to swell to the extent that I could not make a fist. The consumption of all the drinks at the rest stops was coming back to bite me. I had clearly taken on too much fluid and insufficient salt and was experiencing the early signs of hyponatraemia. I took a couple of salt tablets and a few Enduralyte capsules. These, I hoped, would restore the electrolyte balance in my body. When they did I would be pissing like a race horse.
Keith managed to grind out the final few kilometres and arrived at our Bedouin style tent not long after Seamus and me. He collapsed into the tent and almost immediately started shaking and hyperventilating. I tried to calm him down and get him to control his breathing but he clearly wasn’t listening to me. Fortunately Ray, an ex-fireman who acts as Paul’s medical officer, was on the scene and Keith seemed to react to his voice. We stripped Keith of his shirt and dowsed it in water then placed it on top of him. Ray then continued to add more cool water every so often. Thankfully Keith started to respond to the treatment and his breathing returned to normal. Ray then sped of in his van to return with a handful of ice-poles. Just what the doctor ordered. Before long Keith was showing no symptoms of heat exhaustion and was sitting up in the tent and our moment of worry passed. About 40 minutes or so later an exhausted Rose arrived with Fulvio. Everyone had managed to finish the long day – success.
The support team left us to fend for ourselves overnight. We had a similar amount of water as we will receive at the MDS and we used the same kit that we’d carried all day. The super-lightweight Ezbit stoves worked a treat and we soon had water boiling for our Expedition foods. I used these on the British Ultra and really liked them. Luckily they were just as tasty in the heat.
After cleaning up I plugged in my I Pod and got my head down for a kip. I got my best night’s sleep of the week due to the cool air. I was using my Marmot Atom sleeping bag with a cut down Thermarest Ridgerest mat. I didn’t even have to get into the bag until the small hours of the morning and it kept me more than warm enough. I had worried that I had cut back my sleeping mat too aggressively (it ran from my shoulder to my hip) but it proved to be more than adequate.
The next morning I decided to try another main meal for breakfast. This allowed me to carry more calories for less weight – not important here but in the MDS could be a big bonus. I had seen Tatty Mackenzie Clarke do this on the British Ultra and it seemed to work for her. I was pleasantly surprised how palatable rehydrated chilli con carne was at 7 am.
At 9 am Paul and Fulvio arrived to dismantle the tent and start the last day’s run. They were much more civilized than the MDS berbers and allowed us to vacate the tent before they commenced.
The run was cut shorter than planned to accommodate a visit to the Arab baths and we trotted out about 8 kilometres. The baths were a wonderful place to spend a couple of hours after such a tough week, and it got better. On our return to the apartments Barbara had arranged for us to have full body massages. Mine lasted almost two hours. Paul and Fulvio’s camp had left a lot for the masseuse to work on.
We enjoyed one final round of Barbara’s wonderful home cooking and then allowed ourselves the luxury of a couple of beers. Ray must have been still been worried that we were overheating as a couple became a few and then the brandy came out. Now that I come to think about it this was my best night’s sleep.
I’d like to thank Paul, Fulvio, Barbara, and Ray for being such wonderful hosts. Not only was the training side of things meticulously planned and executed but I truly enjoyed their company as well.
We arrived in Spain keen to test ourselves and our kit against the intense heat and rugged terrain in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada. We found knowledge of running in extreme temperatures and the stress that puts on one's body and a new found understanding from deep inside ourselves. We left with many questions answered but some new ones to think about as well.
Fulvio gave us with a couple of thoughts:
To succeed at the MDS you must know yourself very well.
You must conquer the desert or the desert will conquer you. Treat it with respect but not fear.
I for one will hold onto these.
