CROSSING THE DIVIDE...FROM RACING IN DESERTS AROUND THE WORLD, TO TAKING ON THE ITALIAN ALPS.
There are certain things in life I just love. I love food....I Thank God I was born to run so that I can eat. I love ice cubes in my drinks...anything from milk to beer. I love hot showers. After a race I can stand under a hot shower forever and savor every second. And I love to sleep.
I am a master sleeper. Since I was a child I have loved to sleep. I used to be able to control my dreams. My favorite thing to do was visualize a map and I would pick out a country and literally fly there in my dreams. I have the gift of being able to fall asleep within seconds...and nothing wakes me up. With all the training I do I need my 8 hours or I am not 100 percent.
This is why I think I will suffer in this upcoming 200 mile non-stop race in Italy. It is the longest race I will have done to date. It is going to be a very tough race. My main goal is to finish the thing under the cutoff time of 150 hours. That is just short of 6 days. To finish...I have to keep moving because I am not fast in the mountains. This means I have to get by on as little sleep as possible...and yet get enough sleep to function. I am fully expecting to have hallucinations.
I know I will have hallucinations because I have experienced them in the past when I have become deathly tired. Let me share a couple of them with you.
HALLUCINATION #1
The first major hallucination I experienced was at the 2002 Marathon des Sables. It was my third time doing this event. I was suffering from an IT band inflammation and I had slowed down considerably by day four...which was always the long day of approximately 80 kilometers.
We woke up in our tents on Day Four and there was a major sandstorm brewing. The wind was whipping the sand around and people's tents were collapsing around them. Organizers were trying to decide what to do. Hold the stage as usual...delay the stage...or cancel the stage. It was decided that we should push ahead. As it turns out...this was the first time that the long stage would be held through the sand dunes. We were heading into trouble.
The winds raged all day long. It was a long slow day that slowly turned to dusk. As night settled in athletes were being given safety instructions as they headed back into the storm. We were given information on what to do should we get lost and were advised to only head out in groups. As luck would have it I hooked up with a group of burly British guys, some of whom were soldiers. One guy was the designated navigator. He knew the compass like the back of his hand. He led the way, and the rest of us followed in a line.
As we came to a huge dune, he would decide if we were going to go around it or climb up it. Climbing it was hard. I would get 3/4's of the way up and then the wind would knock me down. I would crawl on my hands and knees to the lip of the dune. As my head crested the top I would get blasted in the face by the wind and sand. It felt like staring into a blowdryer while someone was throwing a bucket of sand at you. The sand was like a million needles pricking the body and stinging the flesh. At the top we would get up and we would do a head count to make sure we hadn't left anyone behind. This had gone on for hours and hours.
It was early morning darkness...the witching hours. We had made it out of the dunes and had a few miles to go before getting to camp. After awhile we could see the lights off in the distance. They were so close, and yet so far away. I was completely physically and mentally exhausted. I was power walking behind a guy who kept me moving. He was using poles and in the shadows thrown by my headlamp, it looked like his fists were really huge and the sticks were really short, kind of like both hands holding daggers. Each time he planted a pole in the ground, it looked like a stabbing motion.
The old movie, "The Shining" leapt into my mind. I could hear the words being chanted from that horror film saying "REDRUM...REDRUM" which is murder said backwards. I kept whipping my head around to see who was behind me trying to stab me in the back. Part of my mind was telling me there was nothing there...and yet the other half of my brain was saying "Look out...someone is trying to kill you" Let me tell you...it sounds ridiculous, and yet to me it was very real. It scared the hell out of me.
We made it across the finish line that night and immediately made our way to our tents and collapsed. I fell asleep as soon as I hit the ground. In the morning I shared my hallucinations with the guy I was with. He confided to me that he too had hallucinated. It looked like he was so confident leading the way. But as it turns out...he said he was just following the fish that were swimming up ahead of him in the sand.
HALLUCINATION #2
This too was at the Marathon des Sables. It was in 2008, my 9th consecutive year participating in my favorite race to date. I have always loved this event, but for some reason I always have had bad luck here. I have never had a good race at MDS...I have always had better luck at every other competition I have done.
This year my feet were destroyed. I mean they were literally torn up by the sand and looked like raw hamburger meat. I have no idea how this happened. None. I felt like I had done everything the same as I had always done...and yet for some reason this happened. By the long stage I was in severe pain. It was Day Four and I was heading out yet again into the night.
I didn't know it, but I was dead last. I was in agony putting one foot in front of the other. It felt like my feet were literally on fire. I would actually hesitate before setting each foot down because I dreaded the ensuing pain. I had tears in my eyes, but I wasn't crying. I came to a rocky field and my feet screamed at the pain of molding to the uneven ground beneath. And then it came. Relief.
I began to hallucinate or envision that I was taking off all of my clothing and gear. This was completely an involuntary state-of-being. I stood naked in the moonlight and lay down on the rocks, but felt no pain. I placed my pack over my privates and crossed my arms over my chest. I knew this would be how I was found in the morning. I saw my energy form leave my body. I watched the glowing energy particles rise like a fog in the darkness...hovering and then slowly making its way into the night. I let myself go. It was all over.
I don't know if that lasted one second, or minutes or hours. But the next thing I knew is that I was aware... and that the camels were upon me. The last person in the race is always accompanied by two camels and their handlers. People in camp called them "Camels of the Apocalypse". They had caught up to me after watching me weave for hours. I was beginning to go off course. They were there to help me reach camp. They couldn't understand much English...and I couldn't speak their language, but we managed to get by with hand signals, a few words and gestures. They knew I was in pain and I felt they were there to comfort me and help me.
At last I could see the finish line. All the organizers had come out to greet me and they were yelling and encouraging me forward. A competitor that was still up came running out to get me and help me in. I crossed the finish line and Patrick Bauer came forward and gave me a big kiss and a hug. I love that man. He is so great. He was always so cheerful and full of energy. I asked him if I had made it in under the cutoff time. He didn't answer my question directly. He just looked at me and said not to worry...if I wanted to continue in the race...if I was able to continue...I could go on. I thanked him, and I thanked everyone around me. I looked back and smiled at the camel handlers and waved. And then the competitor (I wish I knew who it was) helped me to my tent. I collapsed and fell asleep.
CONCLUSION...
So, now you know why I am expecting hallucinations during this next race. I know I am going to be tired...and I know I am going be physically spent. I have heard of people getting so exhausted during the Tor des Geants that they fall asleep during midstride. There are stories galore of people collapsing and getting broken and bruised and scraped up. I just hope that I have worked out a strategy that will have me getting enough sleep that I can continue to compete, but not oversleep that I can't make it to the cutoff points and get disqualified. It is all strategy Baby! Here is hoping I get it right!
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