DEFINITION OF SUFFERING...WEBSTER DICTIONARY
n. 1. The bearing of pain, inconvenience, or loss; pain endured; distress, loss, or injury incurred; as, sufferings by pain or sorrow; sufferings by want or by wrongs.
a. 1. Being in pain or grief; having loss, injury, distress, etc.
SUFFERING...PART ONE....
Suffering to me is synonymous with the Marathon des Sables. (MDS) The Marathon des Sables is a legendary 150 mile (250 km) footrace held every year in the Moroccan Sahara. It was started back in 1986 by the charismatic Frenchman Patrick Bauer. It is held in 6 stages over 7 days. Competitors must be self-sufficient, carrying all of their food and supplies for the event on their backs. The only things organizers provide are water, tents and medical aid. Every year about 800 athletes from over 30 countries around the world gather in the Sahara to test themselves in the desert. The heat, the sand, and the wind test all who venture here.
I am the only woman from the Western Hemisphere to compete in this race 9 times. I am one of only 32 Canadian women to finish this race and, in fact, only 123 Canadians in total have crossed the finish line in this event. It is tough...it is named by many to be the toughest ultramarathon on the planet.
MDS was my First Ultramarathon! Back in 1999 I had competed in 5 marathons. (My first marathon was New York) I had just left my job as a National Television reporter and I was wondering what I was going to do with the next stage in my life. I was in a rut and wanted something more out of life. I loved my career, but it was time for a change. I was handed an article about two Canadian men competing in the Marathon des Sables, and I was intrigued. I had always loved to run, and I had always wanted to go to Africa. This combined both in an epic event.
I decided to follow the competition and see how they did. After all, they were training through a Canadian winter and heading over to compete in a desert race. They both finished!... and I immediately decided that if they could do it, then I could too. I tracked one of them down to see if I could get any more additional information.
That is when I met Zac Addorisio. He was more than helpful...and extremely gracious. Every month I would call him and he would tirelessly answer all of my questions about gear, food, footcare and more. He went on to be involved with Racing The Planet and now has his own business...Runners United. We are still in touch to this day. It was because of his kindness and generosity that I too, will help out any athlete who approaches me with questions about desert racing. It passes along the favor.
In 2000, I headed over to Morocco, Africa to take part in this race. I had trained through the entire winter. This was a race of Firsts for me...
* This was my First ultramarathon
* This was my First time travelling to another country alone.
* This was my First time camping...I had never before slept in a sleeping bag or in a pitched tent.
* This was my First time in the desert.
* This was my First time I would be self-sufficient in a race.
HERE IS WHERE THE SUFFERING SETS IN....TIMELINE...........
Have you ever had a love affair with a race? You keep going back because you love everything about it? Yet, that same race does not return the feelings...in fact, it is abusive and keeps beating you down and punishing you time after time after time? Well, that has been my experience with the Marathon des Sables...an event that has kicked my ass so many times that I think I am now afraid to go back. There are so many other desert ultramarathons that have been tough, but where I have had so much more luck and success. This one event has been my nemesis.
2000...MARATHON DES SABLES #1.....DNF.......PROBLEM.....DYSENTERY
I arrived in Moroco and when I stepped off the plane I realized I was home. I breathed in the desert air and knew that I had found my calling. It was here, in the Sahara. I love Morocco. I love the desert. I love the people here. I love the culture. I love the mint tea. I love the camels...I love it all.
I contracted Dysentery the night before I headed into the desert to set up camp at the race start. I had uncontrollable vomiting and diarrhea...sometimes both at the same time. It was awful. All my tentmates tried to convince me that I was too sick to start. But I had not travelled all this way, and spent all this time training, and spent all this money, to quit before the event even began.
I started the race. The days were long...endless. But I loved the desert...and I loved the new people I met...fellow "Desert Lovers." I was desperately sick but I always had a smile on my face. On day 4, however, the long stage, I knew I wasn't going to make the time cutoff. A jeep headed toward me and it was a race organizer asking me what I wanted to do.
I made the toughest decision of all...I quit. He removed my race bib and I wanted to get sick, but it wasn't because of the dysentery. It was because I had given everything I had to this race, and in return, I was handed a label...quitter.
I was transported back to camp and I lay in the tent by myself. I had no strength. I had vomited and crapped out everything I had in my body. I looked up at the sky in misery and asked a losers question...."Why me?" And then it came to me. I would come back. I would come back next year and finish this race. I had been on a very steep learning curve and I knew that if I came back I could do this. I had simply ran into some bad luck.
2001...MARATHON DES SABLES #2...TIME...58:07:31...PLACE...44th ....PROBLEM....
.DYSENTERY........
In my second year at this race, I contracted Dysentery again. This time it hit me on the long stage, Day Four. In the middle of the night while racing, I began having stomach pains. I decided at the last checkpoint before camp that I would rest by the fire for a bit until I started to feel better. I could not get up. They dragged me to the Medical Tent and I began to vomit uncontrollably. I was in and out of consciousness. They could not find a vein to put the IV in me...I ended up needing 3 or 4 bags that night. In the morning I had uncontrollable diarrhea.
I got up at 6 am and began the 10 km walk or so into camp. I think it took me about 3 hours. I could not stop the diarrhea from running down my legs. I made it into camp and collapsed. It was a rest day. I was sick all day long. That night I couldn't sleep, because if I drifted off, the diarrhea would seep out of my body and into my sleeping bag. Everything about me stank. I'm sure my tentmates loved me. My diarrhea went from brown to green to rust to clear. Amazing.
I finished the event, but, of course, I wasn't happy about my performance. So far, I hadn't run across North Africa...I had crapped across North Africa. So I decided to go back again and RACE this event.
2002...MARATHON DES SABLES #3...TIME...39:01:33...PLACE...30th....PROBLEM.....
.IT BAND SYNDROME...
Over the following days I realized that I could run on the hard, flat stretches...but had to walk through the sand or it would aggravate my knee. I finished the race, but I had hobbled through half of it. I decided to go back again and give it another go.
2003...MARATHON DES SABLES #4...TIME...56:49:11...PLACE...44th ...PROBLEM
......WRONG SHOES..........
By Day Four, the long stage, my feet were destroyed. I couldn't understand it. There was no sand in my shoes this year, but for the first time ever it felt like my feet were swelling up. The shoes just felt like they were getting tighter and tighter. The entire layer of skin from the bottoms of my feet and from my toes was gone and my feet looked like raw hamburger. I had lost half my toenails. It was really ugly, and really painful.
It was night out, and I was sitting outside the Medical Tent at a checkpoint. In the light cast by my headlamp I began insanely stabbing at the insoles of my shoes with my knife. I am not sure exactly what I was thinking at the time. I can't remember if I was trying to kill my shoes, or just dismember them. All of a sudden I could see some sand. I had ripped a hole in the liner that was separating the mesh from my feet. I turned the shoe over and I swear a half-pound of sand poured out. I did the same thing to the other shoe with the same result. A half-pound of sand poured out, forming a mound in front of me. I could not believe it. The sand did not get in the shoe, but it could not get out either. It entered the mesh and got stored between the mesh and the liner and just began building up and squeezing my feet like a vice.
It was great to finally determine the problem, and relieve the pressure on my feet. But by this point, my race was over. I finished, but again, there was overwhelming disappointment when I crossed the finish line. When was I going to master this event?
2004....MARATHON DES SABLES #5...TIME...39:05:17...PLACE...25th...PROBLEM.
....BLISTERS....
Blisters are not a very serious problem in the big scheme of things. In the sport of ultramarathon running this is a given. But bear in mind that this was just my 5th ultramarathon and I was still learning how to build up my pain tolerance. I was still learning how to suffer AND perform. I swear I had the back of my heel peel off to the point where I think I wasn't missing a layer of skin but a chunk of flesh as well. I had my best placing so far...25th isin't bad, but it's not great either.
By now I knew the race very well. I knew Patrick Bauer, the owner. He is a handsome, funny, charismatic guy who seems to have more energy and enthusiasm than almost anyone I can think of. He truly loves the Desert, and loves Morocco. I knew all of the returning Doctors very well. At the end of every race I would tell them I never wanted to see them again, but I would always show up the following year on their doorstep at the Medical Tent. I knew many of the veteran runners. I especially related to the French runners. God, they sure know how to have fun at a race! They gave me the nickname that I have kept to this day, "Lagazelle". Lahcen Ahansal and I were working on a 3 month camel trek to Tombouctou, but unfortunately, that never came to fruition.
By now, coming to this race was like a reunion with long lost friends. It was like coming back to my second home. It had become more than an event...it had become my passion.
2005...MARATHON DES SABLES #6...TIME...43:05:57...PLACE....29th ...PROBLEM..
...THERE WASN'T ONE...
Was I losing my desire to do well at this event? By now I felt like I could place in the Top Ten women at MDS...but my results were less than stellar. I cannot even remember why I didn't do that well...I just don't think I went into this race with any hunger. I needed something to spark my enthusiasm again.
I decided to attempt a World Record. I wanted to complete 6 Desert Ultramarathons in less than a year. It had never been attempted before by anybody. Here is what my schedule looked like.
Guinness World Record Schedule...................
1. 2006...Marathon des Sables...Sahara Desert...Morocco, Africa...150 miles
2. 2006...Gobi March...Gobi Desert...China....150 miles
3. 2006...Atacama Crossing...Atacama Desert...Chile, South America...150 miles
4. 2006...Sahara Race...Sahara Desert...Egypt, Africa...150 miles
5. 2007...Raid Sahara...Sahara Desert...Mauritania, Africa...140 miles
6. 2007...Libyan Challenge...Sahara Desert...Libya, Africa...120 miles
The World Record would begin in the country where I fell in love with the desert, Morocco.
2006......MARATHON DES SABLES #7....DNF......PROBLEM......VIRUS
The first race in the Guinness World Record attempt would be the Marathon des Sables. What was I thinking?!
At the first CP on Day Two I was hooked up to an IV at a medical tent. I had been vomiting uncontrollably. In fact, runners all over camp were getting sick. There was a huge dropout rate. Patrick said it was because of the humidity this year, and that athletes were dehydrating. I am still convinced to this day that there was some kind of virus going around. I lay there wondering what I was going to do. I had seen this story play out before. I had been this sick, and I knew It was going to be nearly impossible to recover from this and finish the race. Was the World Record Attempt over before it even began?
Then I had it. I would simply start the World Record with the next race in my schedule, The Gobi March. I decided to quit this MDS, and save my strength for the next event in China, which was only a month away. Instead of starting the World Record at MDS...I would end the World Record at MDS.
2007...MARATHON DES SABLES #8...TIME..36:19:01...PLACE...18th...PROBLEM..
SPRAIN/FRACTURE....
I had completed 5 Desert Ultramarathons and was on the verge of accomplishing my goal...a Guinness World Record. In fact, I had been on the podium in 3 of the 5 races so far! All I had to do was finish the Marathon des Sables and the record was mine.
I had just finished the Libyan Challenge, a 120 mile nonstop event. I had walked the entire course. I was tired from all the racing I had done, but not overly beat up I don't think. I had been away from home for over a month. I had travelled from Canada to Paris. I spent a few days in Paris and then went on to Libya. I did the race and then flew back to Paris and then to Marrakesh, Morocco. I was going to hang out there for a week or so and recover before doing MDS.
I actually had a pretty good race this year! I was having fun! And then it happened. It was during Day Four, the by now infamous Long Stage. I was running in a really sandy section where a jeep had left some really deep tracks in the sand. A line of runners had just left the checkpoint and were following each other in a train down one of the tracks. I jumped out along the side of the track to pass them and when I landed I heard a crack...like a pop. I fell over and held my ankle. Oh my God, did it hurt. One of the runners stopped and came back to me and asked if I wanted a pain killer. I didn't even ask him what it was. I gratefully took it and popped it in my mouth.
By the time I hobbled into camp I was delirious. The pain was so bad I thought I was going to faint at any given moment. During the rest day I hobbled over to the Medical Tent. The diagnosis...Third Degree sprain and possible Fracture. (In fact, X Rays taken back in Canada after the event showed a chip of bone missing in my left ankle.)
How was I going to finish this race...and accomplish my goal? I was going to crawl if I had to. I grabbed two sticks that served as tent poles and headed out for the second last stage. It was 42 kms. If I could finish this marathon, then I only had another 20 kms on the last day and I would have the World Record.
The doctors had pumped me up full of drugs. One of them told me that what they gave me was like morphine. That sounded good! And in fact it was! I ended up throwing away the sticks, and having one of the best days of my life at MDS. I felt like I literally floated through that stage. I was passing people as I ran! I ran across the finish line and was hugging and kissing everyone I knew who happened to be there. God, Life was Great! I wish I knew what they had given me that day...because whatever it was...it was a miracle drug!
I managed to get through the last day and crossed the finish line. The World Record was mine. I could not believe that on a Third Degree sprained ankle and fracture, I had my best time and placing ever...and this was after 5 other races of 150 miles that same year. 18th Place. This is why I knew I could place in the Top Ten for Women. So I decided to go back again the following year and nail it!
2008....MARATHON DES SABLES....TIME...61:39:59...PLACE...68th ....PROBLEM.....
DESTROYED FEET..........
I entered the race...but I really don't think my head was in it. There were other things going on in my life at the time that took away from my training. Life had gotten in the way...and although the desire to place was still there...the effort wasn't.
I destroyed my feet this time. I can only think that the shoes I wore to the race were too old and had too many miles on them. I should have broken in new shoes. My feet were so badly damaged from the sand and the shoes that Doctors treating me were taking pictures of themselves with my feet. These Doctors have seen it all, but they like to have evidence of their "worst cases". There was a camera crew there from Wide World of Sports I think it was...that hung around for awhile getting footage. The female reporter said she had never seen anything like it before. She thought I was out of the race...and was shocked when she saw me back out on the course the following day.
This was the Long Stage where I wrote my previous blog on Hallucinations. I actually hallucinated, or was in a delirium, where I could see myself being found dead in the desert the following morning after a night of agony.
I had the worst placing in my nine years of doing this race. I was done. I threw in the towel. That was back in 2008. Most athletes want to have a perfect 10 if they do an event numerous times. I stopped at 9...and don't know if there will be 10. Would you go back? It has been 4 years since I have been to Morocco. I miss it. I miss it alot. But I still do not have the desire yet to make it MDS #10. Maybe one day.
But there are so many Desert Races out there right now. I am actually the new representative for an exciting new race starting up in 2013 in Oman....ULTRARABIA. It is a 300 km race through the Empty Quarter!
I have also had better luck at all my other Desert Races. I am the only Canadian woman to have won a Desert Ultra. I have been lucky enough to be on the podium at numerous Desert Races now. I am also the only woman in the world to have run the most distance at Desert Ultramarathons around the world. I have run 3,799 kilometres in desert competition. There is so much to do and so little time.
CONCLUSION....
I have experienced suffering. I have learned how to suffer. I have learned how to suffer the hard way. But I think I am getting better at it. People tell me I will suffer at my next race...the Tor des Geants. It is a mountain race in the Italian Alps. A 200 mile nonstop mountain race...the toughest mountain ultra in the world. I know deserts, I don't know mountains. But I know suffering. I can suffer with the best of them. But why suffer? Why do ultramarathon runners do this? I don't know about others, I can only speak for myself. I will explain in my next blog.
