We're in the Sahara and yet my phone has got signal!
It's a day of two halves. Cool and windy start and I'm wearing a windproof over my running gear. I probably take it off too late as I'm sweating profusely. Ran halftime to Checkpoint 1 (CP1), then walked from there to CP2 getting slower as I arrive.
At CP2 I load up with "Peronin" and water and a slowly saunter with a full stomach being overtaken left right and centre until we hit the dunes. I speed up a little, and overtake a few other runners before we hit a dreaded jebel. Then something strange happens. We climb through rocks and suddenly my turbocharger kicks in and now it's me overtaking people like a mountain goat. I lost count of how many, but it must have been over fifty. At the top a marshal asks how I'm feeling; "I'm fine but the chicken is suffering!" It's a partial rope assisted descent in deep sand, and CP3 awaits at the base, just 4km from the finish.
From there it's a final fast walk with an occasional burst of running to use a different set of muscles. I know I have blisters, but I'm too afraid to take my socks off.
The heat and loose terrain have taken their toll on my feet and I head to the Doc Trotters medi-tent to have my three blisters looked at - donning surgical gloves the nurse lances them with a hypodermic needle. Ouch! I almost hit the roof, there's blood everywhere. Except it's not blood, it's the antiseptic fluid they use to wash out and dry the blister, what a wuss!
The nurse, one of many volunteers supporting the event, wraps my toes to help them heal. I now have the Doc Trotters waddle in my plastic slippers.
It's a day of two halves. Cool and windy start and I'm wearing a windproof over my running gear. I probably take it off too late as I'm sweating profusely. Ran halftime to Checkpoint 1 (CP1), then walked from there to CP2 getting slower as I arrive.
At CP2 I load up with "Peronin" and water and a slowly saunter with a full stomach being overtaken left right and centre until we hit the dunes. I speed up a little, and overtake a few other runners before we hit a dreaded jebel. Then something strange happens. We climb through rocks and suddenly my turbocharger kicks in and now it's me overtaking people like a mountain goat. I lost count of how many, but it must have been over fifty. At the top a marshal asks how I'm feeling; "I'm fine but the chicken is suffering!" It's a partial rope assisted descent in deep sand, and CP3 awaits at the base, just 4km from the finish.
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| A welcome sight (photo: Paul Colledge) |
The heat and loose terrain have taken their toll on my feet and I head to the Doc Trotters medi-tent to have my three blisters looked at - donning surgical gloves the nurse lances them with a hypodermic needle. Ouch! I almost hit the roof, there's blood everywhere. Except it's not blood, it's the antiseptic fluid they use to wash out and dry the blister, what a wuss!
The nurse, one of many volunteers supporting the event, wraps my toes to help them heal. I now have the Doc Trotters waddle in my plastic slippers.
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