JMF fundraiser attempts the toughest foot race on earth

Friday, 15 April 2011 11:51

Wayne Metcalfe shares his experience participating in the toughest foot race in the world - a 250km multi day race across the Western Saharan Desert, Morocco

To compete in the legendary Marathon de Sables (MDS) or ‘Marathon of the Sands’ has been one of the most awesome experiences of my life. The 250km multi day race across the Western Saharan Desert, in Morocco, is considered to be the toughest foot race in the world. It did not disappoint. It is truly one of the greatest adventure races on the planet.

The race is divided into six stages over seven days with each day differing in distance and terrain. During the race all competitors must be self-sufficient carrying all their own supplies, including sleeping bags, mats and food. Salt tablets and 9 litres of water per day are strictly rationed out by the race organisation. Medical assistance is supplied throughout the event. Temperature variations are extreme, with daytime temperatures soaring above 50°C and night-time temps plunging to almost freezing.

Journey to the Start Line

The participants and race organisers initially met up in the city of Ouarzazate, also known as ‘the door of the desert’. We were herded onto Buses to travel 370km further out into the desert, to the site of the first Bivouac, for what was to be the first of 9 days in the desert. Once on the bus the race course was revealed. This year we would start in Dar Kaoua and finish in Tazzarine. We were given our ‘road book’ which detailed each and every stage of the race and included maps, course descriptions, stage distances and compass bearings. Prior to this the course and distances were a closely guarded secret. All we had been told was this was to be the longest MDS ever, at 250.7km.

The Bivouac (camp) is basically divided into two separate areas, the administrative and logistics and the 180 odd Berber tents utilised by the competitors. The competitors are grouped by nationality although the Aussies were billeted with the US, Canadian and Kiwis. Our tent comprised of 3 Aussies, 3 Canadians and 2 Americans. I was quick to claim it for Australia by hanging up the flag despite some mild protests by the others.

Day One [33km]

Dawn came. In what was to become a daily ritual, the local Berber tribesmen hired by the Organisers descend on the Bivouac en-masse and begin dismantling the tents. It made no difference whether you were still lying in your sleeping bag. Each tent came down in seconds. Competitors then made their own breakfast, prepared electrolyte drinks, and repacked their equipment into their backpacks, ready to carry.

At the start line an official stood atop of one of the many official support vehicles (land rovers) to deliver our race stage briefing, in French. These were then translated into English. With the noise of the news helicopter, accompanied by the pumping sounds of ACDC’s ‘Highway to Hell’, the large international field of competitors representing 44 countries moved off quickly into the distance.

Day one comprised of 33km including an initial 13km over rocky terrain followed by a 13km stretch through the Mezouga Dunes, the largest in the Western Sahara and Morocco. They were huge and absolutely breathtaking in their beauty, however cruel in their intent.

Luckily for the most part there was a lot of cloud cover keeping the temperature down. Full backpacks, and in my case a front pack as well, soon started to add to the pain with aching shoulders after hours of trekking through the dunes. I spent over 4 hours in the dunes alone. There were no checkpoints in the dunes so it is imperative that you carefully ration you water supplies to ensure you don’t run out. 5km from the end of the dunes I passed a British female competitor sitting down who had run out of water. I topped up my water bidons and gave her the rest of my water supplies which was over 1 ¼ litres enabling her too carry on. About an hour and half later, a small sandstorm hit as we were trekking through some high dunes and I saw the same competitor who was about 100 meters in front of me lose her Saharan cap which blew backwards across the dunes. I could see her glance backwards; shrug her shoulders as it continued to blow away. I managed to spike it with my pole. I returned it to her some 30 mins later. Turned out she was a British Army Officer (you would think they could ration their water in the desert J ). Eventually after completing the dunes and 7km of further rocky terrain I completed day one on dusk and shuffled into camp. Wow that was tough. I emailed my wife Christine and said I feel like I have just completed an Ironman Triathlon!

That night strong sandstorms buffeted the camp. Our tent collapsed on top of us, twice. I got no sleep and in the morning we were all covered with about ¼ inch of sand.

There were 7 withdrawls from the race.

Day 2 [38km]

We started straight into the sandstorm and after a relatively short trek, more huge sand dunes. I was feeling OK but after several hours was starting to get seriously exhausted. I tried a slow running shuffle periodically but with a heavy pack found it pretty much impossible. I find it almost implausible how the Moroccan elite runners in the race can average 14kph - including the dunes, mountain passes and rocky terrain. Each checkpoint is utilised to top up our bidons, consume gels/bars/food and relieve the agony of the pack on our shoulders. Sporadic sand and dust storms continued throughout the whole day.

Checkpoint 2 was at the 22km mark. I tried to eat, however found that I couldn’t digest my bar. Therefore I just topped up on fluids and carried on. Shortly after this I saw an American competitor, who had his leg very heavily strapped, in the back of one of the vans with the Doctors. Not long after he was on his way and swinging his right leg in an arc. I found out later he had carried on with a broken leg!

I struggled through the last 10 or so kilometres with my body feeling more and more like I was entirely depleted of energy. I didn’t realise at the time but found out later that it was because I was running on a huge calorie deficit and had exhausted all my physical energy; almost to the point of collapse. A stupid rookie mistake. One which could and should have been avoided. After crossing the last few kilometres of dunes, I could see the Bivouac in the far distance, which in the desert can be very deceptive. With my water bottles in my front pack virtually empty, and thinking I was close, I continued on as it was already dusk. I crossed the line eventually on the 2nd day in a little over 10 hours, just outside the cut off time, barely able to shuffle. I virtually collapsed at the Administration tent looking for my water rations. They took me to the medical tent where I spent the next 1 ½ hours lying on a stretcher, being hydrated with fluids, and having my feet bandaged.

I was convinced that my feet were terribly blistered as I could feel hotspots and blistering all over my feet as they were so sore. It turns out they were severely bruised from all the sharp rocks we were forced to walk on for endless kilometres, with just a bit of blistering around the heels and sides of my feet. Anybody who assumes that the desert is all sand I’m here to tell you a large proportion of it is sharp rocks!

I got back to my tent very late with the Doctor, to find all my tent mates were extremely worried. They immediately boiled up some soup for me (Doctor’s orders), laid out my bed and fussed over me until we all went to sleep. They really were incredibly amazing people. Over the week I met so many fantastic people and made many solid friendships. Adversity really does build strong relationships.

Day 3 [38km]

Traditionally known as ‘Dune Day’ this stage consisted of 17km more of dunes, many more kilometres of stony terrain and the first of the Mountain passes. I decided to try and make some ground up during the day, by transitioning through the checkpoints faster.

At Checkpoint One, I didn’t remove my pack merely stopping to top up my water bottles and consume a gel sachet. A couple of minutes later I was on my way and had passed about 40 participant already. Feeling strong I approached the 2nd of the dune sections which was 10km in length at the 21 km mark after walking across a seemingly endless rocky plain. Some of the dunes look phenomenal. Rather than look up the steep climbs I found it easier, mentally, to look down and continue on putting one foot in front of the other, in the existing footprints. When it got steeper I pushed off with the poles. At about the 24km mark I was rapidly fading. It was somewhat akin to a switch being thrown. I went from feeling strong within a few hundred meters to struggling to place one foot in front of another.

I collapsed at Checkpoint 2 and was convinced I didn’t have the energy to continue. Once again the Doc Trotters were phenomenal and very supportive. After several questions they decided I was running on a calorie deficit, again. They forced cold soup down my throat followed by a disgusting ‘hot breakfast’ mix (drunk cold) that they had found in my ration pack. It was difficult to consume, but slowly I started to feel better. Unfortunately I lost a lot of time at this checkpoint. By the time I started out again I had been relegated to the rear of the field. This meant I was accompanied by the camels and Berber tribesmen who traditionally escort the last competitors home.

The Doctors also shadowed me and walked with me towards the 3rd checkpoint, at the 31km mark. This was at the base of the mountain I had been worried I would have to climb. Unfortunately I was right, but fortunately there was a stony pass that wound up the mountain between the peaks. It was not quite as steep as I thought, but tough all the same. I was accompanied by a British competitor and we were both filmed by a TV crew for some time climbing the rocky path. By the time I got to the summit the British guy was nowhere to be seen and I was alone. It was close to dark. I scrambled down the other side, even falling at one stage, wanting to get to the bottom before dark. One of the Doctors had also strapped on a backpack and made the climb with us. He would end up walking beside me for almost 10km. The Race Commissionaire was at the bottom of the mountain waiting. He said, “You should stop your race now as you do not have enough time to finish”. I was upset to say the least. He said “you can continue but you have only one hour to finish. As soon as your time runs out I will take you off the course”.

I just started walking (or hobbling is probably a better description). The camels walked behind me, I used my head torch to navigate in the dark. I was somewhat concerned as somewhere, a few kilometres ahead was another few kilometres of dunes I would have to navigate in the pitch black. Some of the race vehicles could be seen in the distance with emergency lights flashing. Those lights helped a lot. The ground was sandier, but still peppered with lots of sharp rocks. I could see the huge green laser light spearing up into the sky from the Bivouac far away still. The Doctor was walking in front of me constantly shouting “Hurry, Wayne, hurry. You must walk faster”. He must have repeated this dozens of times like a broken record. I tried running, but I just couldn’t do it for more than a few minutes. I could hear the Doctor and race officials constantly talking on the radio in French with the camp. The Doctor said to me “they are talking about you”. Eventually I reached the start of the last set of dunes about 3-4km from the finish. The Race Commissarie stepped in front of me and put his hand on my chest and said “you must stop now you have 5 mins left and another 4 km of dunes to go, you cannot finish”.

The Race Commissarie led me back to the 4WD support vehicle. I not ashamed to say a couple of silent tears rolled down my face. After all this effort I was physically depleted and emotionally drained. I felt so close to finishing that stage, that I could almost reach out and touch it. I was primed for the next stage. Unfortunately that was to be the end of my race. I had my race numbers removed and all my food taken from me, so I could not pass it on to other competitors.

To say that I was shattered to be withdrawn from the course is an understatement. I have lived and dreamed of this race for the last 18 months. However, I spent the next few days supporting my tent mates and fellow Australians. 3 Australians were unable to complete the event; however another 12 did complete the distance and can wear the MDS medal with pride. I loaned my trekking poles and shoes to a tent mate who could barely walk anymore and whose feet were so swollen he couldn’t fit in his shoes. He finished the race. My legs and feet were so swollen I had to cut my gaiters off my legs with scissors. I have never seen such courage as that displayed by the many dozens of competitors that continued on despite enormous pain and suffering. Many with feet shredded to pieces and completely bandaged up. It was very inspiring. I believe that I lost between 6 and 8 kilograms during the race. Unfortunately the weight is coming back up rapidly. Temperatures during the race exceeded 50 Celsius twice, with a peak of 51.4 Celsius on day 6. To watch some of the final competitors collapsing across the line after the two day stage showed incredible tenacity and courage and bought a lump to my throat. The fact that the final competitor was Japanese and was flying the Japanese flag seemed somehow appropriate this year.

To all the people that followed the race on the internet and sent me messages of support and in particular to those that made a donation along the way I sincerely thank you. I do hope to be able to return and complete this race as I have unfinished business in the Sahara now. Next time I hope to take a QLD Police Service Team to compete and share the pain and joy of this awesome experience.

Most of the MDS competitors race to raise money and awareness for a charity. I chose to raise funds for the John Maclean Foundation. The John Maclean Foundation provides financial assistance and inspiration to young Australians under the age of 18 who use wheelchairs. Through the provision of items such as new wheelchairs, medical assistance, vehicle and house modifications, computers and financial assistance JMF is helping to turn little Aussie lives around and improve the quality of life for Australian families. In particular I am hoping that these funds will go some way towards helping out a young four year old son of two QLD serving Police Officers and who is being helped by the John Maclean Foundation.

Anybody that wishes to make a donation can go to Wayne's fundraising site Click here .