(NB: As you can tell by the posting date, this blog was written offline and there was a bit of a delay in posting!)

The morning after the awards ceremony and I feel like I've drunk battery acid...Those pisco sours last night were surely acidic enough to strip paint! Time for the final recap on the end of the race...

For those of us fortunate enough to have finished the Long March on Friday night, Saturday was a rest day for recuperating and treating blisters ahead of the final leg back to town on Sunday.

By early Saturday morning, we were back to a full tent with Dan and Alex returning from a kip at the CP5, thoroughly tired but ever upbeat and desperate for a McGangBang (Double quarter pounder with a McChicken in the middle - serious). Unfortunately the freezing nights rapidly transition into scorching days, and it was soon too hot to catch up on any sleep in the tent.

We spent the day tiredly trying to stay entertained with our limited means, all courtesy of Team HSX; a deck of cards, a frisbee and endless farting which was always attributed to me (thanks Alan!). The consensus was that we'd all try to smash out the last stage and go out in a blaze of glory, as best our tired legs and blistered feet would allow.

We were broken up into three waves based on our race times in order for everyone to reach the finish in San Pedro at midday. The first wave left at 9.30, the next (including us) at 10.30 and the race leaders (including Team HSX) at 11.

The final stretch was 9.3km of offroad, technical terrain and gentle hills before hitting the streets of the town as we headed for the main square. In order to keep my overall standing and come in under the target 44 hour mark, I needed to complete the stage in 1h 17, so there was going to be a good bit of running.

In spite of a relaxing recovery day, I'd pretty soon found that the previous 240km left my legs quite spent and the run in was going to be hard work; frankly I hadn't run more than 45 minutes in training, so I just wasn't conditioned and couldn't pace myself with a pack.

Fortunately Ben had done plenty of pack running and pretty soon had set a manageable pace, running the downhills and keeping within a reasonable distance of the Chilean team ahead. We were joined by another Aussie, Sean, who was also keen to make good time to San Pedro to watch the pack leaders sprint in.  The first couple kilometers came as a bit of a surprise, with some fairly steep (though very short) climbs before we came to the more rolling hills that we would run across until we reached town. 

The outskirts of San Pedro came into view and, with no hills remaining, we started running alternating flags to keep our speed up without overdoing it and being forced into an embarassing walk to the finish line.  As we worked our way nearer and nearer to the heart of town Ben's VMO began catching up with him, and as a heel-striker with an inch deep chunk missing from the back of one of my shoes, I was also beginning to struggle. We managed to 'man it up' and pressed on.

Sean counted down the kilometers on his GPS watch (thanks mate!) and soon we'd hit the final 250m; rounding a corner, the finish line banner and flags came into view, the centre square packed with people.  For the first time in the race we had some spectators other than the staff and volunteers, and the cheers of the local kids were uplifting.  I'd like to say that, fuelled by their support, we floated up the slight uphill that marked the last 100m to the finish line, but the reality is that it hurt like hell!  Nevertheless, we pushed on and crossed together, there to recieve our medals and some hard earned pizza.  The town square was full of onlookers, most of whom had no idea who we were or what we were doing.  We explained the race to several tourists while we watched the remaining competitors cross the line.

The remainder of the day passed very quickly  - with our excellent hotel room at the Altiplanico (with both indoor and outdoor showers) allowing us to wash simultaneously, followed by some souvenier shopping, another lunch (!), yet another shower (!!), then off to the awards banquet. 

Ben had previosuly described to me with great enthusiasm the banquet following last years Kimberley event, so it was with high expectations that we went of to dinner.  Unfortunately, it failed to deliver - there were 18 beers in the fridge when the 150-strong crowd arrived, so all beers served thereafter were warm, the barbequed meat took forever to be served (nicely cooked if you like your steak 'blue'!) and the grated bowls of individual veggies for salad purposes; perhaps we were supposed to make a coleslaw with the provided materials?

Blessedly, the RTP staff and the good company managed to rescue the evening, with some good presentations/acceptance speeches and an excellent photo slideshow.  Generally, I believe an enjoyable night was had by all.  With a 7am bus pick-up the next morning, and 250k's in the legs, we said our goodbyes and made off around midnight, leaving some of the boys to party on until the wee hours of the morning.  

So, when all is said and done, would we do it again? Ben's said no, not until he's in his thirties. He trained to race hard, to go faster than he did in Australia, but his injury stopped him from getting the value out of his training. He's got other athletic goals on the horizon.

For me, I think I will do another race. The hardest part of the race was not knowing whether I'd finish. The prospect of doing something close to my longest training march for four consecutive days, followed by the 75km epic, was rather daunting. In training I'd had to modify my program and spend time on the elliptical when my knee went bad, and I'd known much better athletes who'd not finished RTP: Australia, so I didn't think I stood a chance.  It really weighed me down for the first few stages, waiting for what I thought would be my inevitable demise... But by the time Stage 4 came around and I had half of the mileage completed, I realised I'd probably survive and started to really enjoy the race. It's a way to challenge yourself and see a unique part of the world... You meet some wonderful people and come away with great memories.

So, I've heard good things about the Gobi... :)

Stage 5 went off with quite a bang - we ran through camp and straight out onto the salt lake, with people pushing as hard as Stage 1 thanks to the flat, solid salt pan. There was probably 1.5km on good salt and everyone seemed determined to make the most of it, many people running who I hadnt seen running before. Naturally, the race coordinators had no intention on making the longest stage a cakewalk, so before long, we were back on the crusty salt-coral. Again, being light and relatively nimble helped and I made some good ground hopping across the salt formations. Jumping along the salt is a bit like playing minesweeper - everything seems a bit suspect and youre never sure whether youve made a good call and are going to land on something solid, or if itll give way and result in a face plant. No face-plants this time, fortunately!
 
After making our way off the salt lake, we skirted around the edge of the lake, through mixed crusty mud and grass, which was quite fast going. Surprisingly, in spite of the first checkpoint being 15km from camp it passed quite quickly. The stretch from CP1 to CP2 was rather unremarkable - aside from distintly Chilean mountains and volcanos in the distance, the terrain was the kind of flat, shrubby brush youd see anywhere in the Aussie outback. With no clouds in the sky the day was beginning to pack some substantial heat, and sunblock was offering little protection agains the impending heat rash. Pretty soon my legs became a blotchy, burning mess, which wasnt helped by the spikey shrubs scraping at my legs. Lesson learnt: wear longer boardies!
 
 CP2 to CP3 was more dark, pebbled sand dunes and crusty but soild mud. And yet more health issues, this time hyponatremia. Having double the usual carb drinks scheduled for the day, but no means to measure out the powder, Id made the drinks far too dilute and was flushing salt out of my system. Id been taking on far too much fluid, not enough salt and pretty soon started feeling a bit spaced out. The watery feeling in my stomach and pains in my sides made it pretty clear I needed to take in more salt. Doubling up on salt tablets and resisting the temptation to drink more in spite of the heat brought the situation back under control and I was feeling much more lucid by CP3.
 
 Only halfway from CP4 did the terrain get more interesting... The mud transitioned to sand, and the view to our left became hard-topped sandstone giving way to behemoth sand dunes. And there was definitely a massive sand dune on the menu for us before CP4; the kind the race coordinator described as 'having to dig your fingers in and crawl your way up' ... after picking our way along small dunes, people, seen at first dots in the distance became visible on a substantial dune. Most concerningly, as I headed towards them, their progress upwards was pretty limited. They were going nowhere fast.
 
Figuring the next checkpoint (importantly, one checkpoint closer to dinner) wasnt far from the dune, I packed away the last few loose items and gave it a red-hot go. Zig-zagging up the face and doing my best French pointing broke it down into a manageable challenge and pretty soon Id reached the top, giving an incredible view of of the surrounds - beautiful purple mountains with white snow caps, brilliant blue sky and golden sand. The iconic view of the Atacama!
 
The top of the ridge was very martian looking - save for some colourful pebbles in pale pinks, blues, purples and teals and a few coral-like outcroppings, it was a baked orange-red mud plain with salt crusting the edges of each mud plate, interspersed with tall outcroppings, so jaggered theyd clearly never seen the effects of water erosion. At the end of the ridge, CP4 could be seen at the bottom of a dune. One checkpoint to go for Beef Strog.
 
CP4 to CP5 was slow going, made a bit quicker by the appearance of two of the Team HSX boys - our British tent mates and a general riot to be around. The third member of their team had been suffering since Stage 3, with bouts of dry retching. It was a real shame to hear that theyd had to leave one of them at CP1, where they were trying to get an IV into him and he was struggling to to keep anything down. Such a pity as they were all incredibly strong runners and leading the team race. For their team honour they were were going to 'smash the back doors in' and planned to complete the stage in sub-12 hours and make up for their slow progress to CP1. Having spent the past week sharing a tent with the guys, youd find it hard to believe that a bunch of lads could have such incredible team dynamics, truly working as a unit, watching eachothers backs and keeping eachother going. They may have been out of the team race, but the guys still ran as a team. Before long they jogged off into the distance to make their sub-12 hour goal a reality.
 
 Things were going well and I was in good spirits at the thought of my Beef Strog only a short distance away, and my blistered feet had finally swollen enough to become one with my shoes, giving good relief from the pain of the earlier part of the day, so at CP5 I got some hot water to rehydrate my meal and pressed on, soon savouring my slightly-crunchy strog. The terrain had given way to a sand-and-rock plain and the route to CP6 was 10km of soft 4WD track. Things seemed to be going well, until I bonked quite hard halfway to CP 6  (last checkpoint before camp). Id thought that having a meal at CP5 would give me a boost for the last 20km home; turns out Beef Strog is a bit too much work for the digestive system, diverting valuable circulation away from the skeletal muscles and simply too slow burning to be decent race fuel. So I bonked hard. The muscles ran out of carbs, everything started to hurt and I began to slow down... Fortunately, as much as I didnt feel like it, there were still two serves of gatorade left so I mixed them up and started getting some much needed sugar back in the system. What a difference carbs make!
 
The strech from CP6 to home was harder than Id anticipated- from my understanding the last few checkpoints to camp on the long day should be easy, as many competitors will be doing them by the light of their headlamps. But it was far from easy. I think theyd even marked it on the notes as 'difficult'. Multiply that diffiuculty by the effects of serious fatigue, both mental and physical, and it becomes extremely difficult.
 
The last checkpoint started with a reasonable  climb up a hill, before heading off road into the Valley of the Moon. At first, I was quite thrilled to be hitting the valley at sunset; the point where we entered was a crater-like depression, surrounded by a craggy ring of hills; with the sun setting over the rim of the depression, I thought that if only Id had a camera I could pose for a cheesy flag planting pic with one of the Atacama Crossing pink flags. Alas, no camera, photo op missed...
 
Pretty soon I realised my delight at being in the valley, following the path of an old river through the canyon, at sunset was misplaced. Dusk is the worst time to be heading through technical terrain, as the natural and artifical light (from the headlamp) conspire to make it difficult to see the next glow-stick or flag. So with the carbs kicking in, I picked up the pace and tried to make it out before I ran into trouble. In a couple of locations, I found the line of sight from glow-stick to glow-stick wasnt happening, so I shifted a couple of sticks to make it easier on competitors heading through in the dark after me.
 
The canyon gave way to a road, and the road to an old riverbed... car headlights appeared in the distance, followed by the signature light-up flags and the sound of drum beats. The long day was done and dusted :D
 
I hadnt thought that I would make it this far, Id thought certainly my biomechanical unsondness would see me out early in the race, but somehow it never came to pass and I survived. Its a wonderful feeling!
 
Bens VMO issue wasnt good on the morning of the long day, so hed let me go very early on at the salt lake. I hadnt been able to find out from the checkpoints Id passed where Ben was on the course, but the Team HSX boys had said hed definitely made it past CP2, so I figured hed be soldiering on. Not too long after Id reached camp, Ben appeared at the finish line, carrying the sleeping pad Id accidentally left at CP5, such a sweetie. His VMO issue had meant hed limped the whole 75km in a fair bit of pain, but he was determined to finish so he wouldnt feel compelled to come back and do it again. He did incredibly well to finish in such good time in spite of the pain.
 
Fortunately today his VMO is (remarkably) feeling much better, but hes  been saying he probably wont be running for a couple of months after the race, and that hell be taking it easy. Well see. Hes said such things many times before and I think hell be running again in 2-3 weeks, its too much a part of his life.
 
So, its about midday here in Chile, and the camp is full of the walking wounded and happy chatter. Everyone is looking forward to the final 9.3km tomorrow and pizza and beer in San Pedro, showers and the awards banquet tomorrow night.
 
Thanks for your comments again, we hadnt heard about the earthquake, or the blister remedy, but we didnt succumb to our injuries and did make it to camp at a reasonable hour for sleep.

Ben had a rough day, seems his quad (VMO) injury is worsening a bit; hes afraid he wont be able to run tomorrow and dissappointed, naturally.
 
Today started off with sand dunes, straight out the back of the camp. Weve decided well never do the Sahara, because sand is a right royal pain to walk on! After the sand came some more sandstone rocks, interspersed with sand, and some incredible dont-fall-in canyons :)
 
After climbing a few more dunes, we had a mad descent down an avalanching face of sand that flowed over hidden rocks, just waiting to catch you out and send you tumbling down into the valley below. Incredible fun... from the slippery sand dune we had to transition onto some trecharous rocks, clamber our way down through trees and bamboo to the little river below. From there we chopped back and forth through the undergrowth, hopping across stones from bank to bank before climbing back out of the valley and into a small town.
 
It was quite an interesting change to run through the town streets, following pink tape tied to power poles... traffic was pretty sparse so we could move through quite quickly. Before long, the town had ended and we were back on rocky, sandy terrain that stretched on endlessly... You could literally see a stream of tiny people off in the distance through the shimmering heat. CP2 was probably the furtherest apart wed encountered, and since it was  a hot, still day on the sand, quite a few people came unstuck. Fortunately for us, training in the Pilbara means we know our salt and fluid requirements quite well, so we didnt become victims. After topping up the full 2.5 litre capacity, they set us out on the infamous salt flats...
 
Fortunately, they werent as bad as wed heard, thanks almost solely to the thin track beaten into them by years of previous competitors. All up, the track only covered about half of the flats, so there were quite a few tricky bits between. Salt flats is definitely a misnomer; theyre far from flat! Frankly, theyre pretty trecharous terrain. As John had told us, its most like walking on coral. If youre not light and nible, you get slowed down and suffer quite a bit, particularly as the stretch from CP2-3 was another epic of 14km.
 
With Bens VMO playing up, he set me loose halfway across the flats on the way to CP3, which allowed me to make up some good ground. When I hit CP3, I heard I was around 27th overall, a considerable improvement over previous days, so with only the final 6km remaining I picked up the pace to a quick march and made for camp... constantly checking over my shoulder, expecting the quick pack behind me to see the flat road and sprint for the finish, but it never happened. Seems the long, hot day had done enough damage that nobody behind me had the energy or desire to gain a few places on the home stretch.
 
Ben wasnt far behind, of course; even with his VMO issues he came in only 17 minutes later, a bit on the sore side but otherwise fine. Still no significant blisters for him, so hes in a good position for tomorrow, particularly if his VMO starts to come good.
 
So, tomorrow is the long march - 75km, starting on the salt. Mentally its actually a relief; to have made it this far is usually a sign youll finish, one way or another! Hopefully well be in somewhere around 15 hours, all going well; worst case could see us out until the early hours of the morning...
 
Thanks very much for the comments, info on positions and times is really handy, as weve got a spreadsheet of results here but its usually not complete when we see it, and there are no age groups next to names, so we cant easily tell how were doing. Usually we just look around camp and see whos in...
 
Dont stress too much about how were doing, we've made it through some hard terrain and tough conditions, so well be safe. Usually a lot of the last day is on straight-forward terrain as people will be out into all hours of the morning, so well be fine. The competitors here are great people, they come to your aide when youre in trouble.
 
Please wish Taryn a happy 21st party and Id love to see some pics of the cupcakes!
 
Thanks for your support, by this time tomorrow we should be nearly done :)

(S) Short post today - theyre shutting down the tent in ten minutes...

Started out on the muddy, crusty salt flats by the lagoon today; coupled with long grass it was pretty hard going,with the grass hiding all manners of potential ankle-twisting lumps and bumps. Then it was onto salt flats - the nasty,soft kind you sink into, making progress devestatingly slow. From there it was more sand, more salt, more grass... Then we hit CP3 for yet more sand dunes, this time with some consolidated sandstone thrown in the mix; alternating between soft and boggy and rock hard, with stacks of trip hazards. That being said, it wasnt too bad. Ben made a break for it shortly after CP3, as he felt good enough to run, which was a great move - being a long, hard, technical day he took 23 places on his way to camp and came in 40 mins ahead of me. Hes getting stronger daily; tomorrow he might pick up the pace and do some running from much earlier on the course. Seems itll be a brilliant tactical move. Although hydration and heat held him back a couple of days, hes now heading into S4 and hopefully the long day quite strong.
 
My back-of-the-knee tendon is holding up okay, although each day is stressing it a bit more. The docs have said I cant do any terribly permanent damage, so Ill keep up the anti-inflammatories and keep going as long as I can. Blisters are still costing me time but are manageable, especially since theyre getting treated very early. Im hoping that with my feet taped up like your average Egyptian mummy, I might yet have a day with no preventative maintenance stops...
 
Highlight of today was running down a sand dune into an oasis with a deadly sharp turn 3/4 of the way down - options were to pull the turn off nicely, or face plant into mud and bushes at high speed. Truly awesome fun! :)  Scenery was a bit less pretty today, unless you like long grass, crusty mud and sand dunes, fortunately the snow-capped volcanos are still in the distance. Were truly camped out in the desert tonight, with an awsome view of Licancabur (I think), surrounded by sand dunes and some crusty sandstone cliffs. Nights are spectacular - high altitude and dry weather makes for a spectacular view of the Milky Way, and gives us our first view of the Southern Cross in ages...
 
Tomorrow is going to be hard - back on the salt flats for about half the stage, it seems, with two creek crossings and lots of sand thrown in to punish the blisters. To checkpoints 1 and 3 are marked 'extremely difficult'... Hoping to go reasonably easy to save some energy for the long day.
 
Chris, yes, we see the comments; we post blogs and read comments daily somewhere between 6pm and 8pm local time. Thanks for the updates! Check the video stream for an interview with Ben at CP3 today :) Ive been using nurofen and voltaren on the anti-inflamm front, they seem to work a treat.
 
Jorinda, yes, theyre legit doggy bags... trying not to use them! Ben read the comments first and said there was a pic of me up at work - I was hoping the photog hadnt immortalised me crouching in the bushes with a doggy bag...
 
Matt, if only we could fit two people in one bag wed be set... would try some dogs but most have rabies. Could end the race a bit prematurely, so we solved the issue with our bivy bags and space blankets. First night aside, weve been warm enough to sleep through the night. Fortunately its getting warmer each day.
 
Brady and Leanne - thanks for wishing us well! Hope youre setting more records :)
 
Thanks everyone for your comments and kind words!

(B) Today was another hard day, though more so for Seranica than for me.  One of her knees was playing up (though not the usual injury, tendons at the back of the knee this time), which slowed her down over the last few kilometers. Too few carbohydrates compounded the problem.  Ever the gentleman, I left her for dead with 5.5km ago to test the legs a bit by walking and running the last little bit.  The results were not the best, with a never before experienced pain in my left quad/knee - I cant explain the sudden onset (ie not tendonitis) or that it is sore at rest (not DOMS), but hopefully it will be gone by the morning!
A few lessons learned from yesterday - I overhydrated in the morning, which made me feel very ill and weak, so I drank only carb mix (no water) for the first 1.5 stages today.  I have also been more cautious in the application of crappy Canadian sunblock, being careful to put it nowhere near my eyes.  Thank goodness for my massive sunnies!
We both had a warm and excellent nights sleep last night, feeling much fresher this morning.  Strong winds late in the afternoon threatened to make it really cold, but died out just as we went to bed.  We have lucked out with our tent mates, who are all great value and a good laugh, and don't snore too loudly.  Hopefully we will all make it to the finish. 
The start of today's course was great and very reminiscent of the Kimberley - lots of water and rock hopping.  We were both positioned really well coming out of the gorge, though a little buggered.  The second leg saw us travel along the river and past some (would you believe) nice vegetation, with awesome craggy peaks in the back ground.  We changed our socks and skirted round these, then up a hill and along a ridge for a few k's, with a spectacular view all along.  The sock change was a godsend, with lots of people blistered today due to the water crossings.  Good thing Seranica removed the tape from her feet, as silt had accumulated under the flapping skin of yesterdays blister - a nasty show stopper for sure.  The descent from the ridge was the best of all, with a descent of a massive sand dune to CP2.  No idea how big it was, but my ears popped from the altitude change when we hit the bottom.  Good fun and, hopefully, good photos to follow.  The last twenty something kilometers were forgettable (regrettable?), with an interminable march across soft sand to CP3, then along a dead flat and dead boring stretch of scrub (think Nullabor plain) until we finally reached camp 2.  Frustratingly, there are two lakes right next to camp, but we dare not enter them as they are super salty and will only cause more discomfort in the days to come. 
 
(S) Thanks for the comments guys - the slow pass through CP2 was due to the aforementioned sock change. We mustve lost 15-20 minutes, but Ben's sound logic is that a few minutes today will save hours in the days to come. Psychologically, it's quite hard to bite the bullet and watch competitors stream past while you tend to your feet (we lost some places that we couldnt make up), but nonetheless, my feet seem no worse today, in spite of the multiple river crossings, so its worthwhile long term.
 
The stage one result wasnt a gentlemanly gesture - Ben was having a hard day and I was running in a bit quicker to the finish. No doubt thatll be the last time I beat him in! He's done well today, sneaking up a few places by running the last 5km.
 
As for the less-than-impressed photo from the pre-race, its probably capturing my response to the rule that we have to carry doggy-bags for toilet paper on the course... I appreciate the leave no trace philosophy, its really hard to stay on top of your hygiene here and that particular rule doesnt help! r
 
In one word, today was brutal. The first stage, weaving across the banks of the river running through the canyon, was gorgeous. Quite hard work, as its technical terrain, but great fun. After CP1, it started to get hard. The slow going to CP1 made for a long day, and since my carbs are based on hours on the course, and I hadnt planned for 8 hour days, I ran out of carbs and hit the wall. Several times! At the best of times, sand is hard to make good pace on, but when youre low on fuel, its hell. It certainly was a relief to see the yellow camp flag appear in the distance this afternoon...
 
Its a beautiful camp tonight - beside a lagoon with some greenery, snow-capped volcanos in the distance; picturesque!
 
Hopefully the knee holds up for a few more stages... my quads are quite shot from two days of rough hills, but its been such a gorgeous course at times that I wouldnt want to miss it.
 
Thanks again for your comments!

...yet another dust storm rolls through the camp threatening to take the cybertent away... Someone yells, 'dust storm!' and we all turn our heads and hang on. Hope we're more sheltered at the next camp!
 
Thanks for the emails and comments, we've been reading them! Don't think Viagra is standard issue in the doc's med kits, but we can always ask :) Fortunately the altitude hasn't really hampered our efforts, we've acclimatised quite well.
 
Would someone be able to help out with some splits for the age groups?
 
Ben completed today's stage with me, as he'd planned, to have a nice conservative starting stage; we got through the 35.2km in just under 6 hours. It's a bit slower than we'd like, but it's early days. Made a few rookie mistakes today, like forgetting to tape one of my feet. Inevitably I ended up stopping part way through the stage to tape up, only after I'd acquired a decent blister on the arch of my left foot. It'll get a bit more interesting tomorrow when the stage starts with 500m through water...hopefully it's clean enough not to cause any nasty infections. That aside, the knee's not too bad, but it'll take until tomorrow to see the full toll the day has taken. Just at first pass, I'm not expecting I'll make it through the whole race. Time will tell... what I'd give to be biomechanically sound!
 
Ben suffered a bit today, which we weren't expecting. Haven't pinned down down what the cause was yet; his stomach started playing up halfway to CP3 and kept him from running the final stretch home today. We're figuring it was either the carb powder or adjustment to the heat.He's planning to take tomorrow easy to be on the safe side.
 
Unfortunately it's quite cold at night; neither of our sleeping bags managed to keep us warm enough to sleep through the night and tonight probably won't be much better. Here's to hoping it gets warmer!
 
Our tentmates are a good bunch - Team HSX, the British mountain runners, a gun Italian runner who did Tour de Mont Blanc in 30 odd hours, an english med student and Dan from New York. All pretty quick, our tent was complete only 20 minutes after we arrived.
 
...and another dust storm. I'd better run and check that my shirt hasn't blown away...
 
I'll update again tomorrow, provided I'm still in the race! If not, Ben should be able to keep y'all posted.
 
Thanks again for wishing us well!

...there was a fountain! A magic fountain...

Well, we´ve made it to San Pedro, part way up a volcano and now through check-in. In under an hour we´ll be catching the bus out to Camp 0 for our first night in the desert.

The trip in went quite smoothly, save for our camera inconveniently dissapearing somewhere between Santiago and Calama. 

In an attempt to acclimatise, we went for a trip up Cerre Toco yesterday. Not very far up it, but far enough for epic altitude headaches! For a moment there I thought we might not make it to the start line. 5400m with little acclimatisation will certainly take its toll. Hopefully it´ll turn out to be enough to allow us to get through the first 35.2km day at 3263m... With the town of San Pedro somewhere around 2400m, we only need a little bit of a boost to get through comfortably.

Surprisingly, we´ve had few issues with the heat. Frankly, it´s just not that hot. It´s cool enough that I wouldn´t even consider hopping in a pool until after midday. The sun has some bite, but we´ve brought enough SPF45 for a small army of albinos.

There´s some seriously stiff competition out here today; the field seems to contain a few more eltite athletes than usual, which will no doubt affect the overall rankings and make for an interesting race. Nevertheless, I´ll be happy just to finish.

We´ve had our packs weighed, Ben´s at 15lb and mine´s 13, so we´re doing well on the weight front. If I hadn´t accidentally killed my Polar last night, we´d be spot on for equipment.

Time to head out into the desert!

(Ben) Seranica said I had to write something for mum.  Hi mum,  I have packed plenty of jocks and toilet paper (if I use inside out and fold twice).  Love you. 

Ben likes to say he's a serial victim of my terrible ideas. I like to think I take on Top Gear's "how hard can it be" philosophy. Sometimes it yields great results. And sometimes means finding out exactly how much you've underestimated everything, in painful detail. 

I'm hoping the Atacama turns out to be an incredible adventure. So far, given the training to date, the odds seem to be in Ben's favour, but I remain optimistic that by the end of the race he'll be glad to have entered... 

The biggest hurdles are now behind us - the long marches are done. Unfortunately, the Weather Network's promised balmy -15oC didn't arrive quite the way we'd envisaged on the weekend. Waking up to 8 and 11 hour marches to find the temperature at -28, excluding wind chill, left us less than impressed at the prospects of an entire day spent on the treadmill. 

Fortunately, training in the cold has worked our suck-it-up muscles quite nicely and it wasn't half as bad as you'd expect. It's orders of magnitude better than frostbite, at least!

It's hard to believe exactly how close the race is, but assembling my gear last night really made it sink in. The Atacama is now just two short weeks away. 

On the topic of the gear, it appears my dry weight (minus water) should be around 6.5kg, which is not too shabby... 61% of the total weight is food! Unsurprising given how much I enjoy eating. Of the remainder, the heaviest single item is the pack itself, at 422 grams. Of the non-edibles, the next heaviest is the sleeping bag, sleeping mat and ... tissues, of all things. A pack a day at 17g begins to add up!  

With the ample time spent on the treadmill, I thought about the likely causes of my early demise on the course. Here’s what I think could be the top 4:

1. Knee issues (...the reason why Ben ended up on his own in RTP: Australia 2010. General issues with 'knee dynamics')

 2. Blisters... (seemingly innocous, but given 250km of irritation, blisters can easily take you out. Bad infections to the point of septicemia are a very serious possibility)

 3. Electrolyte issues... in the heat, you lose a lot of fluids. And salts. Getting your salt intake right is crucial, get it wrong and you may just pass out between checkpoints.  The hard part - knowing your salt requirements for a new location is difficult. Knowing it coming from a cold cllimate is almost impossible. Ben almost had to withdraw from RTP Aus because salt requirements in the Pilbara and Kimberley were drastically different. So we're planning for worst-case-scenarios for salt consumption.

 4. Going too hard – heat exhaustion, dehydration, injury… an easy way to end up in a lot of trouble

Least likely (I certainly hope) –

 99. Getting lost – I have no sense of direction. It took a month to navigate my way out of our apartment block without taking a wrong turn!

 100. Falling into the camp short-drop toilets and withdrawing for the sake of a shower... A fate I wouldn’t wish on anyone! 

Here's hoping the next two weeks of training go smoothly and all of our flights connect in time so we can see what the Atacama has in store for us.

 

 

 

 

 

While living in Australia, the Atacama made sense as the perfect event to enter. The Pilbara and the Atacama had a bit in common; both were in the southern hemisphere, so we'd go from summer to summer, both were dry, deserted and brutally hot. 

Then we moved to Canada. 

Now our training grounds are more similar to Antarctica than any of the other races - we've seen up to 70 degrees below the Chilean daytime maximum and are more at risk of frostbite than sunburn. Our favourite walking trail circles a frozen lake and when we're not shaking the ice out of our water bottles we're giving way ('yielding') to teams of sled dogs.

There's definitely an upside to training here - with the UV index barely breaking 0, I've managed to become uniformly pasty. For the first time in years I can't track the past week's training outfits in tan lines... Makes for a nice change!