Running the Sahara

WEST AGUENOUN N'OUMERHIOUT

to

RICH MBIRIKA

STAGE TWO

STRING OF PEARLS

El Otfal.

Right after we were handed the roadbook on the bus ride from Ouarzazate to the desert, it was clear that the second day would give us one of the most impressive moments of the race: Jebel El Otfal, the famed mountain with an unbelievably steep and exhausting ascent and an equally steep descent on the back through deep sand and boulders. My Swiss colleague and tentmate Markus Stöcklin had almost prayed at the hotel in Ouarzazate - where we had spent three nights together before the race - that we would climb Jebel El Otfal, and what a loud cheer he let out on the bus when he opened the roadbook. We would even pass the mountain again on the third day from the other side. The organizers made a bonus for us runners when they mapped the course.

We had set out from the bivouac at 8:30 in the morning, and I reached the first checkpoint at kilometer 12.8 in 1 hour and 28 minutes (I'm not superstitious, but 12.8 and 1:28 mean something positive to someone, I would hope, and hope is powerful).

It's 10 in the morning, and the sky is almost lapis lazuli, a deep blue that tells us that the sun will show no mercy today. We are now like a string of pearls stretching over several kilometers, and long stretches of sand await, challenging terrain that will alternate between small dunes and sandy hills. Only about 20%of the Sahara is covered with sand. The vast majority of the desert is stony and rocky, called hammada, and the gravel part of the desert is known as serir. The Sahara is nearly as big as the continental United States and is the largest desert in the world. It is seven and a half times bigger than the Gobi Desert, which is the second largest. The Arabs also call the Sahara bhar bila ma, which roughly translates to "sea without water."

Only trudging over hard ground and stubbing our toes on rocks wouldn't be as romantic, would it? It would not be the Marathon des Sables, the epic race through the desert sands that most people picture in their minds. The organizers made sure that the course crosses long stretches of sand to fit the picture that most of us have of the desert. As for sand, a grain weighs approximately 200 micrograms, which is around fifty times the weight of an ovum, a human egg cell. To reach the weight of the Eiffel Tower, you need 36.5 trillion grains of sand. Large numbers have always impressed me, a fact that seems to be rooted in my attraction to mathematics.

I arrive at Checkpoint 2 after 3 hours and 12 minutes. I have covered 25.5 kilometers, and the heat is already beating down ruthlessly with another 13.5 kilometers to go, including the steep climb and descent of El Otfal. I line up for water - everything is very well organized, with lanes divided by bib numbers. It is always the same ritual: getting my water card punched, taking the ration of 1.5 or 3 liters of water, and then the desperate hunt for some shade by one of the escort vehicles. The water card is important: you must always have it with you and have it punched at each and every checkpoint. Missing punch holes in your water card are not only sanctioned with time penalties, but if you miss too many, you get disqualified. There is zero tolerance when it comes to safety, and that is a good thing. Everyone who has felt the heat of the desert would agree.

I have a short break of a few minutes at each checkpoint, and the plan going into the race was to eat at a middle checkpoint during a long stage, like today. It turned out to be a smart decision. After I find my shady spot at the side of an off-roadvehicle, I lean against the side door, relax my mind, and prepare to feed my body the fuel it will need to see me over and down the mountain.

I am prepared. I am a planner. I have Peronin and Datrex bars, and I had repeatedly tested each in conditions that were as close as possible to what I believed were racing conditions. As I usually do, I had minimized as many risks as I possibly could.

Peronin is a meal replacement developed for endurance athletes, and with 448 kilocalories per 100 grams of powder, it is a real energy bomb (one kilocalorie equals the amount of energy needed to heat one kilogram of water by one degree Celsius).

I opted for Peronin with cocoa flavor, as I admit to having a sweet tooth on occasion. I am Swiss. Chocolate. It makes sense, doesn't it?

You dissolve the powder in water and drink it. Child's play.

Well, sometimes things turn out a little differently than planned. During my intensive training phase, I had stopped during my long runs and mixed a bottle of Peronin, and it had worked great, really giving me an extra kick for the last part of my runs. The training phase was in winter, though, and that is where I had miscalculated. Drinking Peronin with cold water is fine, but I am choking and gagging with every swallow at the side of the vehicle. I raise my hand to let some runners know that I am okay. Peronin is not the same when the water is 35 degrees Celsius. I eventually get it down because I have to. These extra calories are going to be essential.

Next up is one of the two Datrex bars I took with me. Developed for the United States Coast Guard, Datrex is a true high-tech food packed with energy. The bars immediately crumble as I try to remove them from the wrapper, and if that is not challenging enough, the dusty bits that I put in my mouth suck out all the moisture. It is almost like chewing on paste, like putting flour in your mouth. I get the bars down, but this little pit stop has not gone as I had imagined it would, but such is an ultra. No matter how well prepared you believe you are, the unexpected happens. I have to laugh. It has been a miserable pit stop, but my body feels good and has the energy it needs. You live, and you learn, and that is what racing and life are about; celebration too, because if everything in life always fell into place with certainty, and our journey mapped and marked to the finest detail, why would we ever feel like dancing? There wouldn't be space for joy.

Before leaving my spot of shade, I take a quick look at the roadbook to get an idea of the expected terrain. I rise from the ground, shake my legs out, and head out toward the mountain.

Shortly before Jebel El Otfal, Ricarda and Jens Witzel join me, two of my five tentmates and a long-time couple. They both have already completed an incredible number of ultras, numbering over 100, including the 135-mile Badwater Ultramarathon in 2017 that they ran together in California's Death Valley, the hottest place on earth. I got to know Ricarda while running my second Swissalpine Marathon in 2006 when we ran together for the last 15 kilometers through the beautiful Dischma, the alpine valley southeast from Davos, to the finish. When I heard that Ricarda had also signed up for the Marathon des Sables 2017, a circle seemed to close.

One thing that makes the Marathon des Sables special is the sometimes clear view of the upcoming route. And today, it is pronounced: the peak of Jebel El Otfal looms before me.

I reach the summit of the Jebel El Otfal at around kilometer 34, and the beauty of the panorama leaves me nearly breathless. The climb was challenging, but I had no problems getting up it. I am more worried about getting down.

I'm enjoying standing on top of Jebel El Otfal, an approximately 15-kilometer long range of hills and the continuation of Jebel Maharch. I have been on much higher peaks in my life - not surprising for a person born in Switzerland - but the view from up here is undoubtedly one of the most beautiful I have ever had. You can smell the desert, and the light breeze is very welcome. Far off, the horizon blurs and flickers, and this flickering occurs when rays of light are bent when passing through air layers of different temperatures.

As I remember from school, the flickering is known as a Fata Morgana and may result in seeing an oasis when there is, in fact, not one. The name Fata Morgana is rooted in Italian and attributed to a fairy figure from the Arthurian legend. Morgana lived on the island of Avalon, which was inaccessible to mortals. When Italians "discovered" a non-existent island in the Strait of Messina, they associated it with Avalon and called the phenomenon Fata Morgana.

The roadbook warns of the high technical demands of the descent from Jebel El Otfal, which at times has a gradient of more than 20 percent. I begin descending on sand, and the feeling of flying almost elicits a veritable primal scream. The following stony passages require my utmost attention, for the danger of tumbling down is real, and I want to avoid that. For the first time, the hours of foot exercises that were part of my training should pay off. My coach, Timon, had put together a very efficient exercise program that I had strictly followed - I did specific foot exercises once or twice a week. The increased flexibility of the tendons and ligaments in my feet is a blessing, and they readily absorb a slight buckling or twist.

Finishing the descent, I already have the bivouac in my sights. It is only a few kilometers off, but it is noon now, and the heat has climbed and is cooking our bodies. I am making sure to drink some water every 5 minutes. I am applying the highest discipline to drinking.

At kilometer 35.6, I reach the last checkpoint at just under 5 hours and 34 minutes. I make a short break after receiving my water ration and then move on to tackle the finish at kilometer 39.

It is a real increase in distance from the first day's 30.3...