Back to Marathon des Sables 2023, and how you can send me messages during the race

2017 was the first time I ventured into the Sahara Desert for this incredible adventure. Marathon des Sables (Marathon of the Sands) involves running 250km in 6 stages (the longest one over 80km) under some of the toughest conditions on the planet. The race is self-supported and I carried a 10kg backpack with my gear and provisions. And we were only given a limited amount of water for each stage. From that experience 6 years ago I remember the extreme heat, lots of sand dunes, and spending the nights under the stars. I also remember the feeling of accomplishing something great when I received my finisher medal at the end of the race.

Wanting to live that experience again, I signed up to run one more time in 2020 but the organizers cancelled the race due to COVID-19. I deferred my entry until the spring of 2022 when I hoped that everything would be closer to “normal”. When I committed myself to traveling to Morocco, I had no idea that Prarthana, my wife, would then be almost 9 months pregnant. Her due date would be just 3 weeks from the day I was scheduled to return from Marathon des Sables. For her peace of mind, and my own, my parents kindly offered us to travel and stay with her during that time. In case she went into labor while I was in the desert, there would be someone to help her out during those initial hours and to drive her to the hospital. During the race, I would be checking my satellite messages often, and I could be back home within 24 hours to be there for the birth of my son. It all looked great. In theory....

I travelled from Seattle to Paris on March 23rd, 2022. I landed at Charles de Gaulle airport the next day, and, on the morning of March 25th, I got on the charter flight to Errachidia, Morocco. After touching down, I checked my satellite messages. Everything was still okay back home. The organizer's busses picked us up and we travelled about three hours to the first bivouac (camp). I spent the afternoon getting to know the people that I would be sharing the jaima (tent) with. That afternoon, I enjoyed the Moroccan dinner provided by the organizers. Before sleeping, I checked my messages. Nothing but good news.

When I woke up the next morning, the first thing I did was to check my satellite messages. I had one and this is exactly what it said: "Emergency. Your dad needs surgery. Needs urgent surgery tomorrow. Broke his femur. Complicated surgery. Can you call by phone? Don't know what to do."

““Emergency. Your dad needs surgery. Needs urgent surgery tomorrow. Broke his femur. Complicated surgery. Can you call by phone? Don’t know what to do.””

I was able to call my wife, who was surprisingly calm and she explained the situation. My father, 72 years old at the time, had gone out on a bicycle ride. He had tried jumping over some railroad tracks and he had fallen hard. So hard that he broke his femur and he needed surgery. With nobody else around, my mother would have to be his caregiver. Nobody would be left to help my wife in case she went into labor. To make a very long story short, I decided right then to leave the bivouac and return home immediately. Not because there was anything for me to do for my father's surgery but because someone had to be there in case my wife went into labor. It was a decision that I don't regret.

I explained my situation to the race organizers and we worked out a strategy. They would get me on a Land Cruiser to get to the first small town out of the desert but after that, I was on my own. I barely had enough time to get my suitcase from the jaima before the journey back began.

Espresso machine on the back of a van, on the way to Casablanca.

My only chance to make it before the surgery was by flying to Europe via Casablanca that same afternoon. But it was an 8-hour drive. It would be very tight. With my limited French, was able to convince a taxi driver to take me to the Moroccan capital. He loaded up with a thermos of super strong coffee and we went off. We reached Casablanca in the afternoon, a few minutes before the flight to Paris departed. I was too late. Check-in was closed. The last international flight of the day was to Nantes, France. I took it. I arrived at Nantes at midnight and I was able to sleep for a few hours before catching a 5am flight to Paris. I had to rush to to take a COVID19 test at Charles de Gaulle airport. When it showed negative and I got my certificate, I ran to the counter to check-in for my flight to Seattle. I reached home in time, but just barely. It was the afternoon of Sunday, March 27th. The first thing the following day was to sign up for Marathon des Sables 2023.

Two surgeries later (one of them was a total hip replacement), my father is moving around very well. My son was born just a few days after my return from Morocco, well before the due date. For this year's race I trained hundreds of kilometers with him, pushing him on a stroller while I ran, wearing a 9kg (20lb) weight vest. My wife is still as supportive as ever, and I'm on my way to run Marathon des Sables once again! Most importantly, my father has promised not to get on the bike while I’m gone.

During Marathon des Sables 2017, one of the things that kept me going after every tough day was receiving messages from friends, family, and even strangers during the race. Every afternoon, the organizer’s staff would walk around the bivouac handing us printouts of messages that had been sent to us over the internet. Hearing from you during the race would make a big difference to me.

From 23rd to 29th April, you can send us messages through this link (the option for sending messages will only go live on the 23rd. It’s not active right now but it will be there during the running days):

https://live.marathondessables.com/en/

During those days you’ll be able to type my name and see my live position and ranking. Although I’ll not be able to write back during the race, I will carry all the messages with me until the end. I promise to reply to each of them once I'm back home, back from the Sahara Desert.

Ultreia Et Suseia