27th of October – 38 km / 23.8 miles
Compelled by nothing more than the excitement of the people around me and the overriding desire to get some miles behind me before the heat settled in, I once again leapt out of the starting box. 8 am this time, and the heat already ticking up degree by degree from the morning cool. The course briefing had warned of a difficult first stage with undulating terrain and soft sand followed by moderate later ones, but the rabbit in me was to come out no matter what. Today, I opted to go for music, I brought along two ipods, the old one would only last a few hours and I’d save the new one (meant to give 24 hours of sound) for the final misery of 100.2 km. The music was in me and the first 10 km stage was a whir of excitement. I felt free – free of the long night, free of the low back, free of the fetters of email and cell phone – and no I was not listening to Free Fallin’.
Just before the end of the stage, I noticed that we had gone off path, seeing the little pink flags down below and to the right, I ignored the footprints in front that directed me straight ahead and chose to dive back down the hill and catch the “real” path. It was hard to do, but I thought that even a little bit off-course will only rob me of the full experience. The guy I was running with didn’t see the point in diverting from the straightest path so I made a point of catching up and passing him just before the checkpoint on a very steep hill. Somehow, it was worth every wolfy huff and puff.
By the end of stage one I was in 12th place, but my blisters were hot and twanging from the sliding so I stopped at the tent to get help with blister application. This took a while and then I opted to cool off with some spray and a rest, snacked a bit and was off. For some reason I was joyful, even delirious, pulling out my camera and taking pictures as I ran.
In stage two, I came upon two great pillars of stone, it was here that I recalled the tale of Ozymandias as the sun blazed down on me to the tune of some 45C (113F). I could not remember the whole poem, but those two lines repeated in my mind. "My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!" Then that wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command. I felt for a moment his greatness, and then the fleeting nature of his strength in his frailness – his humanity. I held back to ask an Italian to take my picture between two great pillars of stone that stood towering above us, then raced to catch him and retrieve my camera. I thought of the Romans and what other armies of men had passed through those immense pillars, but sped off despite the urge to rest and reflect.
Then I imagined Shakespeare and the line about food for worms – are there worms here? No it’s dust to dust, I suppose with the help of some local fox, whose tracks were easy to spot in the sand, with no wind to wish away their existence. Would my existence be profound? Would I be left trunkless in my desert stand? Would my life mean something to those who followed? Or would my existence be swept away with the wind as my footprints soon would? The hope came and left as the heat closed in on me. “Beat the heat,” I chanted to myself, “beat the heat.”
By the second station I was in 17th place, but I was beginning to end. The end of stage brought an extra joy, and I started off in decent form, but within minutes, was agonizing as the plantar fasciitis had returned with full force, every step heated and hurting. The afternoon cook had begun in earnest – feeling as a firewalker on a sandy blaze. Just 18 km left.
About 2 km into the stage, I found a cardboard box, half buried in the sand. I felt an urge so I trudged back, grabbed a pen out of my pack and picked it up. On it I wrote: “Swimming Pool 18 km” and included an arrow in the direction of the path. 18 km to see if anyone was willing to go the extra two km after the finish. I posted it next to a pink flag, set in the sand so it could not be blown away. No one mentioned the joke, though I hope it gave someone a boost. I plodded along to the end of the stage, cursing every step as the pain in my foot made me limp and wince.
I caught up with Andreas again and continued along with him. His energy and talk kept me going (as he did again and again in the race – his passion for his family and the race was infectious). He made a video message to his family and I followed suit. “25 km in” I said, “and I wonder why am I here?!”
I finally arrived at the third checkpoint, a little bitter, but not too bad and sat to massage my feet. A few short minutes and I was able to work out some of the kinks. Onward! I rose and marched along. Soon we were joined by Alex and Lee. The four of us crossed the finish line together. The last kilometers tolling away slow in the heat – we finished in 28th to 31st positions (5:35:47). Today was our day.
At camp, I stretched and gave massages (in the end I had given some 30 short massages to other aching competitors and volunteers). Jung ha, my constant friend and sometime course companion, worked on my back. (Thanks Hyung – you did Wonders!)
Today, I talked with Anna and Alex – the photographer. And though darkness descended, the talk was bright and beautiful. Again, I stepped lightly into the tent over the near dead bodies of sound sleeping runners in recovery. The back again an issue, today I opted for a sleeping pill, then lay in my sleeping bag on the sand late into the night working the tension out with two pair of rolled up socks. Sometime near midnight, I finally managed to ease the muscle spasms enough to adjust the sacral iliac. The smile stretched across my face. I knew it would ache for another day or two, but the pain would finally subside.
At last, I slept a stretch!
