The Marathon Des Sables.....
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| 30 Nov 2007 - 18:59 | |
| infadmin administrator  Joined: 24 Sep 2007 | The Marathon Des Sables Mark Hines (Personal Trainer and Exercise Scientist) recently completed the toughest footrace on Earth - the Marathon Des Sables. Each month we publish a few excerts from his new book : The Marathon Des Sables- Seven Days in the Sahara "The Marathon des Sables is billed as the toughest footrace on Earth. It consists of around 150 miles of running across scorching desert plains and peaks, in temperatures soaring above 40 degrees C. As if the distance, the heat and the terrain were not enough, the whole race must be completed carrying all the food and kit required for the seven days of the event. In this book, exercise scientist Mark Hines takes us through both his training and the competition itself, as he goes from non-running optimist to ultra-endurance athleteâ€Â. “Escape into a world outside of the ordinary. Leave the comfort of your workplace to cling onto rock faces in Snowdonia, to wake up on beaches in Christchurch, and to walk from sunrise to sunset across the baking Egyptian Sahara. All of this takes Mark from his mundane existence in London to his successful completion of the toughest footrace on Earth, the marathon of the sandsâ€Â. One key problem is specificity. If you want to get fitter for running then that is what you need to do. Cycling, rowing and swimming will all improve cardiovascular fitness, but they are not particularly useful for improving running-specific fitness. Treadmills require a slightly different running pattern to running over the ground. On a treadmill you do not need to push off your toes as much, nor stride as far forward. The breathing is also different if you are on a treadmill from when you are moving outside. On a treadmill the air is static and easy to take in, as opposed to when you are outside trying to gulp in air as it moves around your face; it is even more difficult if the wind is blowing any way other than straight in your mouth. So it is necessary to apply the programme to running outside. One thought keeps coming back to me though. It has been hours now since my last sighting of animal life. That was five hours from when I started, and it was a rabid dog, which was dead. The last sighting of anything alive, other than the sparse desert brush, was that crow, and he is still probably around somewhere, waiting for a chance to take a peck at the nice juicy fluid in my eyeballs. At 15:00 I take another twenty minutes. This time a mound has created some shade over to my right. The mound is dotted with holes, which I would guess belong to either scorpions or beetles. There is no sign of snakes or anything else, so scorpions are the biggest risk. Fortunately, because it is so hot, everything sensible is staying in its hole at the moment. When I take the rucksack off, I make a point of falling back against the mound as heavily as I can, just to confirm to anything at home that something outside weighs far too much to get out of bed to have a set-to with. I look out across the valley to the plateau on the far side. The lake is miles away on the other side of that, and I need to keep heading towards it until night falls. My original plan had been to give myself a cut-off time of 2 am. If I had not reached the lake by then, I would turn around and start heading back, anyway. The problem will be that when it gets dark I will not be able to see the tracks anymore, and I will be much harder to find if anything goes wrong. Author: Mark Hines Healthy Body Publishing http://www.thehealthybodyco.com Last edited by infadmin (21 Jan 2008 - 11:17) |
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| 21 Jan 2008 - 11:17 | |
| infadmin administrator Joined: 24 Sep 2007 | Marathon Des Sables - Part Deux Monday, 26th March 2007 Stage Two: 35 Km 00:00 Sandstorm The wind was up. I looked out across and towards the other side of the camp and I could not make out the tents there. The wind was blowing through the bivouac, and sand was getting everywhere. It was in the sleeping bag, in my clothing and the gritty feeling when I brought my teeth together told me that it was in my mouth. I woke up next to find my world was made up primarily of canvas. I could not tell if the bivouac had just come down on my part of the tent or if it had completely fallen down. At least I was not getting any more sand blasted across my face. Ten seconds later I was up, following on from Richard and Carl, who were also out of their sleeping bags and getting the poles shifted back into position. Once we were back in the comfort of a properly erect bivouac, the wind carried on howling through and trying its best to make the canvas into a sail. One of the ten-inch iron pegs was wrenched out of the ground and, because it was still attached to the canvas, was being chucked down around me with the force of the wind and a metallic clanging against the rocks. Sand was one annoyance, but having to pull an iron peg out of my face would really put the lid on it. I made a grab for the dancing peg and untied it from the line to the canvas. I gave a shout out to the others, because it looked as if some more were working their way free on the other side of the tent. ………………………….. Owen asks me if I am ready to get going, because he could use a wingman for the next part. Fair one; what we were all looking at from six kilometres away was the biggest climb in the whole race, a mountain consisting primarily of a face of soft sand. I have never seen sand reach that height before, and it had been a daunting prospect to me ever since it came into view just under an hour ago. If Owen could use a wingman then so could I. Up until this point in the race I was happy to just do my own thing, but I could imagine that if the going got really tough, then it would be nice to have somebody else there forcing the pace. I asked for a couple of minutes to polish off the Kendal mint cake and most of the water, and then we were good to go. We left the checkpoint together and were onto the soft sand almost immediately. Sand dunes are about a third air, and with the extra weight of the pack, each foot sinks a long way into the ground. When it is steep and you are walking as if climbing the stairs, then it does not help to have the foot sink a foot or so into the ground between steps. We had a tiring climb up the sand before it leveled out onto a ridge, although still only a third of the way up. We looked back to see the checkpoint a long way off behind and beneath us, with line of competitors making their way across the plain, whilst others in front made their way up the rest of the sand. We plunged onwards along the ridge, towards an area where the sand met the rocky side of the mountain face itself. I stuck close in behind Owen, almost matching him step for step, and he was putting in a lot of effort, meaning that it was not easygoing to keep up with him. But that was what we both wanted, to push ourselves and get it over with. I was grateful to reach the rocks, because they represented solid ground, and I was happy to climb up the rocks and be generally more efficient than I was when floundering around in the sand. …The key is to take your time, to let the person above move, and wait for any dislodged rocks to either stop moving or fall past you before moving yourself. Owen was consistently apologising for sending half the mountain in my general direction, but he was being careful and it was not as if he was kicking his feet back and trying to create problems for me. I told him not to worry about it. We were all hot and tired anyway, so accidents would happen regardless. We climbed up along the rocky path and were soon back on sand, sticking close to the rocky side of the mountain, whilst up ahead we would soon be traversing the top of the sand, using a rope that had been secured into the rocks. It was then that a shout went up from behind us: ‘Doctor!’ …I continued the call up to the top, but Owen was already on the case: ‘I’m a doctor. I’ll go.’ He stepped out onto the sand as he took his rucksack off. I told him I would take the rucksack and continue up to the top, and wait for him there. Owen ran down the sand away from the rest of us. Just as he neared a rock that obscured our view of the casualty, a flare went up to alert the support crew and helicopter. …The guy ahead of me, another Englishman, offered to help with the rucksack. I carried it for the first part of the climb, he carried it for a huge section of the climb after that, as well as the traverse, and then we both shared the load for the remaining climb to the top of the ridge by the summit. We fell forwards into the sand, the rucksack between us, and turned around to watch the others making their way up. Blake introduced himself, and I thanked him for his massive help with the rucksack, and let him know that he could carry on and that I would wait for Owen to come back up. …I was actually glad about all that had happened. I had wondered how I would react if somebody had an accident and needed help. I wondered if I would stop and help or if I would do the minimum possible and carry on with the race. Morally I had done the right thing, but I had not known that this would be the case until now... Copyright © 2007 Mark Hines info@thehealthybodyco.com Last edited by infadmin (21 Jan 2008 - 11:19) |
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