April 12: Runners share thoughts on pain, fear, luck, and relief
By Dan Morrison

Clive Saffery

"It's only about 27 miles today," observed British runner Clive Saffery. "I think I'll pick up the pace a bit."

This after having already run nearly 100 miles in the last four days — not to mention doing so while carrying food for a week, not bathing the entire time, and catching only a few hours of sleep each night under black burlap while lying on the ground.

Or perhaps Saffery, who runs 15 kilometers each day and full marathons each Saturday and Sunday while training for the race season, simply isn't intimidated by this event.

For others, however, stage 5 of this race would be a test of their will to finish. With most of the outer layer of skin missing on their feet, as well as many if not all of their toenails long since removed, some would be attempting to run for several hours in rough terrain on what are essentially raw, bleeding wounds that resemble feet.

And, just as in the last four stages, today's run would offer the drama of a race within a race, with Russian Andrei Derksen attempting to overcome staggering odds to close the gap and win the Marathon des Sables for the fourth consecutive year.

Frontrunner Lahcen Ahansal from Morocco, beginning this stage with a nearly insurmountable one-hour, six-minute cumulative time lead over Derksen, was being pushed hard by the champion.

If Derksen couldn't hope to win the coveted first-place position, he seemed determined to at least make the tough Moroccan earn the award every single step of the way.

Saffery, Menard, and Nagle

Their respective positions remained fixed until the finish line on a broad expanse of rocky soil near the cultivated fields of the nearby village of Ignaoun.

Ahansal. Derksen. Corredor.

But in fact, Derksen is essentially out of the race.

Tomorrow's final leg of the event is a mere 19 kilometers, nowhere near enough time for Derksen to close even the 20-minute gap between himself and Italian Mario Olmo, who with a cumulative time of 16:41:54 has moved into third place.

Barring some disaster, this race is over. All that is left to be determined is whether second-place runner Jesus Corredor from Spain can maintain his slim one-minute lead over Olmo.

Ignoring the small pack of cameras hovering just inches from their faces, the Moroccan walked over and shook hands with the champion he appears destined to dethrone. The two men smiled at each other, and then, as he does at the end of each stage, Derksen quickly escaped the media crowd without posing or attempting to answer questions, and lay down in a tent, alone with his thoughts.

Speaking through an interpreter, Derksen summed up his feelings about this year's race.

"It takes a tremendous amount of physical ability, but it also takes a certain amount of luck," he said.

Derksen got lost at least once during every stage of this race, for various reasons. And even when not lost, at one point during the 50-mile section he had an "unexplainable and irrational fear of being lost." He started weaving, and lost a lot of time.

The language barrier also worked against the Russian, who speaks no French. During today's run, each competitor was informed at checkpoint #1 that checkpoint #2 had been moved and was no longer where the map showed it. Unable to understand, Derksen ran to the original site, another costly mistake.

"Luck just wasn't with me this year," he said.

Just a few meters away, the other runners continued to sprint, stumble, stagger, or walk across the finish line, driving themselves forward in the desert heat to meet personal and perhaps private goals.

Robert Nagle crossed under the arch in 3:21:02 to be the first to finish among those running with the American team.

Perhaps the most common subject of conversation among the competitors is how this race compares to the other events in which they have participated. It is probably comparing apples to oranges, but the comparisons are offered just the same.

The Marathon des Sables is called the toughest footrace in the world, yet not everyone agrees with that.

Bill Menard, who holds the record in the Badwater 100, a race through Death Valley, considers that race "three times harder."

Ultramarathoner Saffery agrees with Menard.

"It's been hard," he said while relaxing under the tent after completing stage 5. "But it's different than running 100-milers. When you're running 100 miles, it's constant. You're pushing yourself through the night, and the pain level is much higher."

"There no stopping," added Menard, "no time to recuperate. You run to the end."

This race offers plenty of pain for most, though. Late in the day 37-year-old housewife Stephanie Power of Ireland crossed under the arch at the finish line. She looked absolutely exhausted, yet oddly happy with her performance today and with the race in general. She has never raced before this event.

"The race in general is beyond belief," Power said while picking up her afternoon rations of water. "It's such extremes. The relief when you get in in the evening. The welcome you get from everybody. When it's tough out there, it's very tough. But everybody is so good, and everybody helps, and everybody encourages you on the run. I'm pleased. It's an incredible event. Unbelievable, actually."

Meeting new friends is important, of course, and the social ambiance of these events is a draw to some. But when the cost of the entry fee and the airfare are considered, this event costs each participant about $400 a day for the right to run in 125-degree heat for a week while their feet decompose and they tempt sun stroke.

Italian Mario Olmo sums up the rationale this way: "Running the Marathon des Sables is not the thing of a madman. It is the thing for people well prepared physically, which love the desert."

Dan Morrison is a freelance writer-photographer based in Austin, Texas.