After a day of acclimatization to the desert conditions, we are left with only the gear and clothes that we will run in. Many countries are represented, including a “remote controlled” runner from Japan, a 75 year old runner and a wheel chair entry from France. And let’s not forget Glen the train jumper…
We line up at the start. I see the Star of David in the middle of the starting line and know that it is there because of me. I hope that I don’t screw up.
Its mid-morning and the Chef de Course (otherwise known as the CSO: Chief Sadistic Officer) fires the starting shot. We’re off into the sand dunes. The line of runners stretches out for many kilometers. When climbing dunes, its two steps forward, one step back. “We’re churning sand,” I say to myself.
I judge my place in the group by the number of tracks I see ahead of me in the sand. I feel I’m in the top hundred, but barely. All around me is silence and sand. It’s a soul purifying experience. I try to unite with the tranquility and calmness of the desert. And after a few minutes of trying, I turn up ZZ Top in the CD to max volume. “Enough of that crap!” I say to myself. The calmness is nice, but I need something to take my mind off the pain.
At the end of each stage, we’re given our ration of water, which is worth its weight in gold in the desert. Here Ian from the UK clutches his precious water ration. Pure joy.
