Reflections on MdS 2011

For me, MdS 2011 was a struggle. Don’t get me wrong – I loved being there, I loved the people, I loved the atmosphere, I loved my tent-mates, I loved the vast plains we crossed, I loved the black rocks and I loved the dunes. But I struggled.

This year when I finished I cried. I have experienced other races when I thought I would be so overwhelmed that I would cry, but I actually never have before. This time I cried because for once I felt that I had plumbed the depths of my resolve, into my heart and soul, to pull out this race finish.

If you are reading this, then you probably know that I had a baby last year. He had his first birthday on our first day on the bivouac.

Kees is my first child and I never imagined what a difference he would make to my outlook on life. I never imagined how much I would miss him and Byron (my husband) while I was away!

One of the reasons I wanted to run MdS again this year was because I felt like I was ‘just’ a stay-at-home mum and that I needed the chance to get out and be myself again. What I discovered was that ‘myself’ now isn’t the same ‘myself’ that I used to be.

To be fair – most of the new self is unchanged. What has changed is my focus, and so instead of being able to concentrate on myself throughout the race, I had to learn how to finish a tough 250k in the heat and sand, carrying all my own food and supplies for a week, while all the time thinking about what the ‘boys’ would be doing at home. That is much harder than it sounds.

It didn’t help that I wasn’t fit enough (reminder – next time, TRAIN) but I stayed within my capabilities and came out of the race in great shape.

Each day was an adventure. The stages were varied and we had an amazing array of terrain to cross. The second half of the week was really hot (you know it is hot when even I am saying it is hot). The ‘rest day’ after the long stage was BAKING. I was glad to be in my tent, but not so glad that the tent was a black blanket not very far above my head. All you could really do was stay lying down to stop your brain from cooking.

I found the long stage, well, long. 82km, and I really struggled mentally until CP3. I had convinced myself that CP3 was halfway (although it wasn’t really) and every step from the start until that point was difficult for me. It was also very hot. I remember approaching CP2 and thinking how nice it would be to change my hot water (that I had been carrying in the sun) with cooler water from the CP. I was VERY disappointed when I got my allocation and it was almost as hot as the stuff I had been carrying! Honestly, that water was hotter than I have a shower.

I made it to CP3 and from then on it was easier. I cruised in and out of the next 3 CPs (and 44k) with little difficulty, and my pace picked up. I found some old friends and made new ones in the dark that night – it was really great. My three bestest tent buddies (Jay, Ricky and James) and I had the tent to ourselves that night and there was much giggling over our adventures during the day.

The marathon stage was also tough – it was hot and there was a lot of flat sand (my nemesis). I think I must be about the only person who dreams of huge plains of black rock roasting in the sun – so much better than the sand!

Thankfully, I had wonderful tentmates that were hugely fun and entertaining. There were times that we were laughing so much we were keeping other tents awake at night. Ricky, the First Nation, French Canadian and his stories about his foot-in-mouth friend, James and his MdS gag ideas, Jay and his war stories from races like MdS and the Jungle Marathon. And on the other side of the pole, Gael, Ali, Antony and Adam – all too funny and wonderful companions. Thanks again to Ali and Adam for the hot water! Next time I will definitely carry a stove. Or at least some fuel tablets. No more relying on the sun to heat my dinner in a ziplock bag for me! Foul.

So all in all, it was great, but difficult. My achievement this year was very personal. I am only an average runner, middle of the pack, so it is never about winning for me, but rather about the journey. This year I was the proudest of myself that I have ever been.

But most of all, I want to thank my family for supporting me in my crazy adventures. Thank you Byron for being the most loving, supportive and encouraging partner I could ever ask for. You lift me up and enable me to achieve heights that I never imagined possible. Thanks to my parents who stepped into the childcare breech without complaint. And thanks to Kees for providing me with inspiration, motivation, and just for being the cutest baby in the world!

And thanks to everyone who followed my adventure, and particularly those who supported and encouraged me throughout the race – I couldn’t have done it without you!

Post-race festivities

Well, my 2 days in Ouarzazate were great before flying home. Proper food. Clean. Beds. A selection of clothing. What bliss!

On Saturday night I met up with the ‘crew’ for dinner, and then second dinner (like a hobbit) and then off to bed at a reasonable time.

On Sunday we had a leisurely breakfast, followed by a walk down to the hotel where the MdS Boutique was set up to shop and pick up my FINISHERS t-shirt and for the awards ceremony. Most of my buddies had to stop off at the Doc Trotters clinic to have their feet tended to again :)

The awards ceremony was fun, if mostly in French. After the ceremony, somehow was honoured to be invited back to Touda Didi’s home (2 x womens winner) for lunch. It was great – the Moroccan boys were there – Mohamad and Lahcen Ahansal, Samir and Lhoucine Akhdar and Rachid Elmorabity(this year’s winner). Touda Didi of course, as well as some Frenchies including Laurence Klein (this year’s womens winner) and Damien Vierdet (4th place). Jay-B was there (so I had at least one person to talk to in English) and we all enjoyed homemade Tagine and Couscous. Sooooo good.

Afterwards Samir took me shopping for my new, genuine, all-the-way-from-the-Ouarzazate-market Tagine, where we met up with some of my tent-mates and Samir provided a great haggling service for all our shopping needs.

Later that night we headed to the local Discotheque where we danced all night and only just made the bus to the airport in the morning! The disco is amazing - filled with runners and all their war wounds, race officials as well as a smattering of tourists, wondering who all the strange people are, dancing around on bandaged feet.

As usual, for me, the best part of any trip is experiencing the local culture, so my friendship with the Moroccans plays a big part in my highlights.