The Marathon des Sables
Sahara Desert, Morocco
Spring, 1998

I was actually going back to the Sahara Desert for the third time. To the "toughest footrace on earth," a 140-mile running race across the torturous Sahara Desert of southern Morocco, a race known as "Marathon des Sables."

French for "Marathon of the Sands," the Marathon des Sables is week-long stage race in which runners must carry their food, sleeping bag, and compulsory survival gear in backpacks as they make their way to the finish line. Although the course changes every year and is kept secret until the day before the race, the six stages are roughly 15, 18, 22, 50, 26.2, and 9 miles.

Runners from all over the world enter, and everybody sleeps in open-air, co-ed tents with Berber carpets on the ground. The trick is to carry enough food to survive the week without letting your pack get too heavy. You need lots of energy to run, but too much weight slows you down. Strategy is everything.

Keeping the pack light means bringing freeze-dried food (yuck). No change of clothes. You don't get showers anyway so that alone saves a ton in shampoo, hairdryers, hairspray, makeup, and other toiletries. Pretty much the mandatory sleeping bag, flare, compass, map, snake bite kit, whistle, signaling mirror, salt tablets, and food are all anyone wants to carry.

It sounds so humanly impossible, I just hoped to finish the first year I ran. And somehow, I did. My other big concern was what I was going to look like after a week of running in the desert with no shower or shampoo. Everybody was filthy, though, so that part wasn't so bad. But after losing all the skin on my feet to dozens of painful blisters, I swore I would never do it again. A week after returning home that first time, I registered again. I had learned from my mistakes; I wanted another shot at doing better. "Just once more," I told my fiance.

I finished the second year, too, despite bringing the wrong running shoes. I hadn't tested them in sand, and the fine grains poured through the mesh uppers. I had to stop and empty my shoes so often it cost me hours of time. I decided I needed to go back just once more to run a faster time and get things right.

This was my third and final year. I finally had things figured out. Or so I thought.

After flying all night to get to Morocco, we got on busses in Marrakech for an 8-hour drive to this year's start near the ancient city of Tazzarine. Because I was one of the few returning U.S. competitors, everyone was asking my advice. "Don't worry about rain and dress for hot, hot weather," I advised. "You won't need tights or anything warm." The forty Americans surrendered all their warm clothing to lighten their loads and completed their final medical and equipment check-in.

That night it rained -- all night. And it was cold. Rain dripped through the Berber tents and we got soaked. I wasn't off to a good start with the others.

Day 1: 15 miles

The good thing about the rain was the mild temperature the following day. The course was even easy -- relatively flat with good footing -- and our pre-race jitters began to disappear. The landscape was mystical, dotted with occasional camels and a shimmer coming off the sand. It helped us forget about our wet night, and by the end of the day, I was back in good graces with my fellow runners.

Cathy Tibbetts and Ken Baker ... those backpacks carry everything they need for the week

Day 2: 22 miles Our sandy course took us over a series of dunes and then into a deep canyon, its steep walls lined with adobe huts. Water poured from irrigation pumps on the canyon floor, which teemed with vegetables. Villagers stood up from their work in the fields and stretched their backs as they waved to us. We passed donkey carts and excited children as we wound our way through the canyon, eventually taking a rocky path that lead away from the village. The rest of the course was rocky. Most people envision the Sahara Desert as nothing but dunes, but in reality there are more rocks than sand. The going was pretty slow that day and it finally got hot -- over 120 degrees. Eight runners dropped out on Day 2, from sprained ankles, dehydration, and heat exhaustion.

I was feeling pretty sick myself. My freeze-dried meal from the day before didn't agree with me, and I had spent the night before vomiting. Of all places to get sick on my own cooking! I was careful not to let race officials know, for fear of being pulled from the race. I knew that if I just made it though the day, I would start to feel better.

Day 3: 22 miles I still wasn't feeling great, and I had dropped from 5th place to 13th, but I was still in the race. And we were having so much fun in my tent, I didn't really care what rank I held. We were having a ball: short-sheeting people's sleeping bags, helping a rubber snake makes its rounds, and other summer camp-inspired practical jokes that maintain their timeless appeal to 40-year old doctors, lawyers, and Wall Street commodity brokers.

Ray Nyce and Blaise Supter bring their freeze-dried food back to life

Oh, yeah, the race. It was hot. Miserable. Lots of sand. Lots of rocks. Day 3 took us over a mountain so steep that a Spaniard passed out halfway up. Twenty-three runners called it quits that day. I got through it somehow and ran for a while with Joelle, a French midwife whom I had met my first year at the race. Like me, she was back for her third time, and was struggling.

"This is my last time to do this race," she told me. "I run in Paris for enjoyment, but this is too hard."

Linda Churchfield and Cathy formed an alliance that helped them both triumph over 47 sun-and-sand-and-rock-gilled miles.

Days 4 & 5: 47 miles This stage strikes fear into the heart of even the most accomplished runners. The distance alone is unimaginable, and most go through it hungry, exhausted, blistered, carrying a pack, and worrying about getting lost. I did not want to be in the middle of the Sahara Desert alone after dark and neither did my friend Lynda, so we decided to face the 47 miles together. Suffocating hours passed as we trudged across vast plains of cracked dried mud, expanses of rocks, and rollercoasters of dunes. It was too hot to run.

At midday we saw a sparkling blue lake -- a mirage. When the sun set, the temperature still didn't cool, but we broke into a trot whenever our footing allowed. We sang songs to pass the time and exchanged pleasantries with runners along the way.

Race rules forbid helping others, but everyone does. It's a big desert, and runners are only penalized if they're caught. Despite language barriers, communication is pretty clear. If somebody motions that they are out of water, someone else gives them some. Rarely does a person pull out some food without sharing.

That night when I was feeling the worst, a passing Frenchman shared his trail mix with us. And when he saw me devour it, he offered us more. I wished I could managed more than "Merci."

Lynda, a 47-year-old homemaker from Lake Charles, Louisiana, had never run any farther than a marathon -- 26.2 miles. She had no idea what to expect from 47 miles. We finished together in 13 hours, 55 minutes, placing 4th among the Americans. Having running partner to pull me through the rough spots had made all the difference. We were so excited when we got back to the tent we chattered for hours, until some Brits in the next tent asked us to shut up so they could sleep.

With 2 days allotted for the 47-mile stage, many runners stopped along the way and slept. Day 5 was the hottest yet, and competitors stumbled across the finish line throughout the second day.

Day 6: 26.2 miles

I remember how obsessed I used to be about doing just the right thing before a marathon. I'd fret over how soon to start tapering, exactly how many days before the race to do the last long run, how much to eat, when to eat, what to eat, to hydrate or not to hydrate, and constantly checked the color of my urine. It all seems so ridiculous out in the desert.

We had all just run 47 miles. Runners smart enough to bring sleeping pills maybe got a few hours of sleep. There were scant few carbos to load; I was down to my last PowerBar and ate that for breakfast. We gingerly squeezed our blistered and bandaged feet back into our running shoes and sauntered over to the starting line. At that point, 26.2 miles just didn't seem like any big deal. Not that it isn't difficult, but it's only 26.2 miles. We were seeing distances from a whole new perspective.

Day 7: 9 miles At long last, the finish line was only 9 miles away. After a few kilometers of dunettes, we bid the sand adieu and turned onto a dirt road that meandered through the outskirts of Rissani. Dirt soon turned to pavement, adobe huts gave way to large buildings, and peasants in rags began to blend with men in suits and uniforms. I ran with Herbert, a German friend who was also running for his third and last time. We triumphantly crossed the finish line holding hands and hugged for a long time afterward.

The finish line

My tentmates and I spent the next two days eating and shopping. We sat at the pool. We took lots of baths and tended our swollen feet. We spent leisurely dinners discussing what other easier races we might try next year. We exchanged email addresses and agreed to keep in touch.

It took exactly one week, just as it had the three years before. And exactly seven days after walking through my front door, I found myself looking at the registration form for next year. Inexplicably, I filled it out and sent it in. I am going back.

The next day I called Blaise, another woman from my tent. She is returning, as is her brother who was also a tentmate. Tentmates Keith and Fred informed me they anted up, and Lynda hasn't ruled it out either.

I wonder if Herbert and Joelle will be there.

Five-hundred competitors from about 30 countries on six continents participated in the Marathon des Sables last year, traversing nearly 150 miles across the Sahara Desert. The 14th Marathon des Sables is scheduled to take place from 4th April - 10th April in the vicinity of Ouarzazate, Morocco. For more information, visit the Marathon des Sables web site.

Thanks Cathy Tibbetts for sharing your report with us !

Have you got a human interest story about a runner you know or a race report to share ? OTR is happy to share stories like this with our readers. Send us your stories, your expierences!

Visit other areas of ontherunevents.com here!.
Select area : What's New On the Run Events Book Store Forums Runners Clinic Event Calendar Marathons News & Stories Entry Forms Race Results Photo Gallery Scrap Books Run Clubs Regular Runs Runners F.A.Q. Runners Expo Links Guestbook Runners Software Add event to the Calendar essay contest Runner Survey Public Email list Contact Us Pace Chart

LinkExchange Member

please visit

Contact us today for details on how we can help get your event or product On-line