Stage 5: A Marathon, A Hug And The Pepperami Dance

Friday 11th April 2014
Rich Merzoug to Igadoun Tarhbalt - 42.2 km
Allowed Time: 12 hours

Checkpoint Closures:
CP3: 8hours 30minutes

Under most circumstances, if someone says "it's just a marathon to go" you might be forgiven for freaking out. This is what we all would say to each other on the morning of the final official stage, as we tried to reassure one another that we were almost done. The reality is that a marathon is still 26.2 miles, or 42.2km, and it is still a tough challenge ever before you add in the 200km we had already covered that week not to mention the backpacks, the lack of food, the sore feet, the accumulation of salt on our clothing, the terrain and the temperatures.

It was to be a very early start this morning, as we were to leave the start line at 7am, as opposed to the usual 9am. This was to give people a chance to finish earlier, so that everyone would be around for the presentation that night and a short concert from some musicians from the Opéra de Paris. Patrick and Ian, courtesy of their superb performances all week, were sitting pretty in the top 200 and received the news the previous evening that they would be starting an hour and a half behind the rest of the field. I was sitting not so pretty in or around 380th and was determined to finish inside the top 400. The lesson at this stage was well and truly learned - don't expect anything - so I didn't. I knew it would take a lot of effort to complete the stage (just a marathon remember) in a good enough time to achieve that goal.

The day did not start well. I lulled myself into thinking I had more time than I actually had. Because of my lack of 'get up and go', I had taken a lot of time to get sorted. Just before 6am, with slightly over an hour to go, I began to think about breakfast. At that stage, it was too close to the start time to eat the last meal I had, which was an 800 calorie spaghetti bolognese. Given that I had no more 'real' food, I thought it might be better to have it later that day and so I settled on a cup of tea and a couple of power bars, both of which I struggled to swallow. My biggest fear was that this strategy might come back to haunt me and sure enough it would.

Runners Strung Out On The Final Stage

At 6.30am, people started to move to the start line. I was a long way from being ready, so I quickly went to the sac-a-caca filling station, threw out some equipment that I no longer needed or wanted to carry and repacked my bag. I had to change my tshirt as my luminous yellow Underarmour long sleeve was encrusted with salt, which would have caused serious chaffing, so I went with my navy Nike dri-fit as it was all I had. My shorts were also encrusted with salt (and other things too disgusting to mention), but I had no option with those. A quick application of Bodyglide to my nether regions and I was set and ready to go with a few minutes to spare. Quick team huddle and off we went to the briefing, having said good luck to the speedsters.

Patrick Bauer had already started as I arrived. I had agreed to run with Daniel for the day and we met near the giant inflated teapot before the off. He was in good spirits, whereas I on the other hand had a slightly off stomach. No doubt a side effect from my 'breakfast'. Patrick informed us that we were down to 926 competitors. The long stage did not take as many victims as I thought it might, but it made me think of Niall and I hoped he was feeling better.

It was now 7.10am. For the penultimate time we went through the countdown and both Daniel and I got away quickly off the start as ACDC played in our ears. My feet were sore initially but once I got going after a kilometer or so, you begin to ignore the pain. No finger socks for me this morning, they wouldn't fit over the taping on my foot, so I had no idea what would happen out there.



Flat Terrain On The Stage - CP1 In The Distance

The two Irish protestants (Daniel and I) made good progress in the early part of the stage. We stuck to a simple plan, which was to run on stony terrain and walk any sandy passages we encountered. The plan was almost too good, as there were few sandy passages and when we did come across them, they were short, giving us little rest. It was a good feeling to hit a sandy and stony oued just shy of 10km and to continue to jog through it. Lads 1 Oueds 0 (at least for that stage).  



Approaching CP1 - The Smile And Thumbs Up Hide My Stomach Issues

CP1 was a nice sight in the distance and as we approached we agreed to be as quick as we could. I was trying to mentally bolster myself by saying only 30km to go in my head, which is only 20 miles. My head was fighting back by telling me my stomach still wasn't great and 30km is still 30km. The mental struggle between what I was trying to think and what I was actually thinking would continue
for the rest of the stage.



Daniel And I Leaving CP1

 

Despite this, we pressed on and the next 11km were relatively straightforward. We ran a series of varying on and off times of running and walking across primarily flat, stony terrain as we pushed our way past several competitors on our way to CP2 at 23km. Before arriving there, it was obvious to me that I was running out of sugar and Daniel handed me half a packet of Fruit Pastilles, which gave me a major boost, even before I had eaten one.     

We were in and out of CP2 quickly and with the sweets, a new electrolyte tablet, a bit of Power Bar, a couple of salt tablets and some fresh water, I was feeling a lot better. Added to this I put on my earphones to give me some motivation (Feeder's "Just A Day" (see below) was the first song on - talk about getting you going), which did help, although I did feel that I was being a little rude to Daniel but he assured me he didn't mind as long as it kept us going. 

I felt I was winning the battle with my head as we headed onto a dirt road and continued to run on and off to cover the ground. The stage leaders, those who had started 1 hour and 20 minutes after us came sailing past. In first position was Abdelkader El Mouaziz, the former New York and London marathon winner, followed a few minutes later by rest of the top dogs one after another.

Daniel was running really well and seemed very strong. It wasn't too long before the sweets and the music had worn off and I began to feel miserable because of my stomach and my energy levels. We had covered close to 26km at that stage, so in my head I knew there was only 16km to go, which I tried to tell myself was doable.

Over the next kilometer or so, I began to fade. My stomach was really beginning to feel uncomfortable and despite Daniel's encouragement and assurance that he was not leaving me, I knew I was in trouble. We entered a narrow, sandy track that led up over a small jebel and I insisted on Daniel pushing on. After a short but friendly 'argument', he eventually did continue alone. I was glad for him because he had the potential to finish well and I really appreciated the fact that he was willing to stay with me until the end of the stage, even if I was going to hold him back.

As he moved off into the distance, we had to negotiate a relatively straightforward 3km section of tracks, dirt roads and trails before dropping down into a rocky gorge that led to a house with crops situated beside an oued. This was also where CP3 was, where we were given two bottles for the final 10km. I bumped into Linda, a Kerry woman based in Cork, who bizarrely had done a lot of her training in UCC's Farm, where I had also trained. "Just 4 loops of the pitches left" I said as she took off.

My stomach was not improving at all and to make things worse we had to deal with a 4.5km oued. By the look of other competitor's footprints ahead of me, this was going to be a joyless march for the best part of an hour. My internal compass kicked in a little here and I could see the other racers further up swinging around the corner to the left, so instead of following the herd, I cut a line straight for that corner. While I did not manage to find harder ground, it was much shorter and I caught up with the group ahead of me after a couple of kilometers. Thinking the oued was over was a major mistake because as I rounded the corner, I realised I was was barely halfway through the section. Lads 1 Oueds 1.

I plodded on trying to keep to what I thought was the most secure ground. In my quest for easier terrain, I again crossed the oued, followed closely and then passed by another Irish woman Claire Morrissey, who was absolutely flying with under 7km to go.

Claire was the Irish story of the race. She finished the first day down in 615th, 61st female overall. She followed this by finishing Stages 2 and 3 in 160th and 68th, good enough for 8th and 4th female respectively. She was 57th on the long stage, 2nd female. On the final day's stage, she had started with the elite group and was now the lead woman on the stage. She would go on to win the stage as 1st female home in 57th place, which would place her 7th in the overall female category, which I reckon is the highest ever finish by an Irish woman. It was an amazing feat considering she was ill on the first stage.



Scars Of Battle - Claire's Back After The Final Stage (The Pink Stuff Is Iodine)

Rachel Nolan and Linda O'Connor also had fantastic races, both finishing inside the top 15 women and Ann Marie, who is a serial marathon runner on her way to 100 marathon club, completed another two marathons (the long day and final stage) to add to her quest. Fantastic achievement by the female Irish contingent.

Eventually the oued came to an end. We were directed up a narrow path, which led to a stony plateau. By the time I got there, my body felt seriously low on fuel and knowing that we only had around 5km to go was not helping. I took salt tablets from one of the medical staff at the top of path and headed off across the plateau, carefully picking my way over the loose and somewhat sharp rocks, as my feet were starting to battle against my brain.

As we came over the top of the plateau, still with a little over 4km to go, we could see the finish line, off in the distance across some sand dunes. "Ah for f*ck sake" I grumbled to myself as I descended onto the sand from plateau. We were left with a series of low sandy ridges, from where the finish would disappear and re-appear as you moved through the undulating terrain.

My body felt completely devoid of sugar and not even the knowledge that I was close to finishing the MDS was driving me onward. Eoin came running past and handed me a boiled sweet, which gave me a little boost and then a nice Frenchman offered me some flapjack, which also helped. Just as I was getting going again, Ian came thundering past. He seemed like a man on a mission and I decided that it was the way to go, so the head went down and I followed him in, albeit at a slower pace.

To my surprise, the finish line came a lot quicker than I expected and as I struggled across the last few hundred meters of sand, the physical tiredness, mental fatigue and emotional strain of the MDS came knocking on my door all at once. I crossed the line in 6 hours 20 minutes.

There were no arms held aloft in triumph, no wild celebrations, no collapsing onto my knees. Instead a brief, quiet moment to myself to reflect and a few tears shed as I thought about the previous days and right back to the beginning of this adventure. It was an intense moment and a great feeling. I smiled when I remembered the day I was horrified when I lost the bet I made to myself as I walked into Waterstones in Cork only to find a book on the MDS (see the post: Marathon Des Sables - What Am I Thinking?).

It was also short-lived because almost as soon as you had gathered your thoughts you were ushered into this snaking queue to receive your medal and a hug from Patrick Bauer. There was probably about 40 people ahead of me waiting for their hug, each getting at least 30 seconds of praise from the Race Director. It gave me time to congratulate and hug it out with Ian and Eoin who were ahead in the queue, and with Paul who came in behind me as well. Patrick was not far behind him either.

The closer I got to Patrick Bauer, the more emotional I became. Part of this was the magnitude of the situation but it was also Bauer's genuine love for what the MDS is and what it means to those who take part in it. In short, he is the MDS and he seems honoured to have been the facilitator for so many to come and experience what he had found back in 1984, when he crossed the desert alone. He takes great pride not only in the event, but also in the MDS experience.

All this weighed heavily on my mind as I finally got round to shaking his hand for the second time. He congratulated me and told me we would have a drink together on Sunday night, alluding to the 'IRL' on my race number. I laughed through the tears that were now rolling down my face, a common sight for him no doubt. He placed the medal around my neck and then came the traditional hug. I'm not sure if he hugged me or I hugged him, but either way it was a fitting end to a tough week. Just enough time for a quick photo before being led on to have an official photo from the organisers.



Patrick Bauer Presenting Me With My Medal

Hug Time!

All Smiles!



MDS Complete - A Proud Moment

With the formalities out of the way, I got a photograph with the man named 'Fadi', who had completed the event in a pair of light sandals, with the exception of the long stage where he wore a pair of Vibram Five Fingers. What a legend.



Fadi - Check Out His (Lack Of) Footwear

Just as I finished with that, Nikki Kimball came bouncing through the finish area, so I grabbed a quick snap with her too. She was only too happy to oblige. Another legend.

Hanging around the finish line was a good bit of craic. Niall was there with his wife Sinead. He was in good spirits. We saw Ann Marie come in as well as Anj and Sian, as they all joined the growing queue for the hug and the medal.

The Irish contingent, which were now at the full compliment of thirteen, were due to have a photograph together at the bivouac. Eventually we all met up and did the necessary posing to capture some good memories. As we were finishing up, the MDS media woman came and brought us all over to the middle of the bivouac where we were encouraged to do something in front of a camera. Riverdance was out of the question given our physical states, so led by Paul, we sang "Ole, Ole" as none of us could think of anything better to do. Paul finished it off with "Potatoes" in his best culchie accent. As you can see from this video - http://www.tubechop.com/watch/2937022 - the whole experience was a bit of a cringe-fest.

After the shenanigans, the realisation that I only had a spaghetti bolognese to last me from then until the following afternoon hit home. My stomach had eased but the feeling was replaced by hunger and craving and in particular a craving for salt. The best things I had eaten all week were Pepperamis and all I wanted there and then were Pepperamis. Tent140, who were now all together again after Alex and Rich made it home, were out of Pepperamis, so I thought I would earn some.



Team Eire - BR: Phil, Stefan, Daniel, Patrick, Daniel, Paul, Niall, Eoin, Niall. FR: Claire, Rachel, Linda, Ann Marie

"Irishman will dance for Pepperami, Irishman will dance for Pepperami" was my call on my way back to my tent. It got a few laughs, but then I heard, "Oi, Irishman, I got a Pepperami". A pleasant British man looked up from his rug brandishing a Pepperami, to which I dutifully laid down my patented dance moves (all two of them), to be rewarded with said meaty snack. Well worth it!



'Happy To Be Finished' Selfie - Claire, Paul, Phil, Eoin

The afternoon was rounded off with some 'spag-bol soup a la roof de tent', the delivery of emails and one last round of self-administered first aid, a la Dr. Phil. All that was left to do was relax and wait for the prize-giving ceremony and the much anticipated Opéra de Paris.




With Women's Winner Nikki Kimball (USA)

As we were waiting for this, the final results came through and I had finished in 395th, just inside the top 400. Considering I had come to finish the race, I was delighted. Patrick had finished as top Irishman in 119th, an incredible achievement, particularly given the state of his feet towards the latter end of the race.

Once darkness fell, most of the bivouac made their way very slowly down to ceremony stage, where they were showing a video of the race. It was amazing to think they had already managed to edit it into something that was actually really good and a nice way to relive the last week. The actual ceremony itself was less than impressive and seemed to drag on for ages, which was made worse by the fact that we had to sit on the stony ground. The highlight for me was seeing Hicham El Gourrouj, who was going to lead the charity stage. He is the current 1,500m world record holder and a double Olympic gold medallist. A hero of mine.    

Once the many prizes were given out, Rich and I stayed on for the Opéra de Paris, which consisted of about eight musicians and a singer, all impeccably dressed. It was a juxtaposition of neatly dressed, clean and well rested musical talent with a bunch of sweaty, salty, unshaven and downright dirty runners, who were all in their own small world of pain.

The music was beautiful once they got going. The only issue was that it was now very late, people were tired and sore and the rough ground was not helping matters. Along with half of the people there, Rich and I headed back to the tent with some reluctance and we felt bad leaving in the middle of their performance. We were at least able to listed from the comfort of the sleeping bags! It was a little surreal listening to live opera in the middle of the desert.

There was a good hour of banter in Tent140 before we all prepared to sleep, safe in the knowledge that the following morning there would be no need to panic about race strategy, check points or food for the day. Rich calculated that if everyone in the bivouac chipped in their deposit money (€200 you must carry throughout the race), we could get a Chinook helicopter to deliver chips to us all out there in the desert. Expensive but worth it!

There was a slight sense of sadness in the tent as we knew it would be our last night together in that setting but we all knew we were better for the shared experience and that once we had a beer in our hands the following night, the real celebrations could begin. It was a nice way to drift off to sleep. MDS complete.

Road Book for Stage 5:

Maximum authorized time: 12 hours

1st group departs: 07H00
2nd group departs: 08H30
CP3 closure: + 08H30
 
Km 0 : Go West (course 269°) until km 9.9. Flat terrain, slightly stony with a few sandy passages.
Km 9,9 : Cross a sandy, stony oued.
Km 10,6 : Hill to the left. Go S/W (course 234°) until CP1. Slightly stony plain.
Km 12,2 : CP1 in a leafy valley. Go W/SW (course 246°). Plain with small stones.
Km 17,7 : Small valley. General course 271° to CP2. Go West (course 266°) until km 21.7. Slightly stony.
Km 21,7 : End of crops on the right. Go West (course 277°). Leafy valley.
Km 23 : CP2 on the banks of a small oued. Go West (course 264°) to avoid very stony ground.
Km 26,3 : Stony terrain. Follow general direction W/SW (course 240°) until pass.
Km 27, 5 : Follow track which goes up towards Asderm Jebel pass.
Km 28,2 : Leave the track and follow the small path direction S/W (course 216°).
Km 29,2 : Junction with large track. Follow the track then turn left.
Km 30,4 : Start of rocky descent into the gorge that leads to Tarhbalt Oued.
Km 31,7 : Small house beside the track. Follow small path through crops.
Km 32,2 : CP3 in Tarhbalt Oued. Follow general direction West (course 255°) following oued
in bottom of gorge. Crops on either side of oued (especially cumin).
Km 36,7 : Exit oued on the right. Follow small path.
Km 36,9 : Small house. Turn right into small gorge to climb on to plateau.
Km 37,6 : Summit of gorge. Follow general direction W/NW (course 298°) until B6.
Cross stony plateau.
Km 39,3 : Stony sandy hill.
Km 40 : Sandy terrain.
Km 42,2 : B5 finish line after some dunes.