“But if you never try … you’ll never know … just what you’re worth” - Chris Martin, Coldplay

I have struggled with what to include in the details of this final posting.  I could write about the final stage (a mere recovery run / “sprint”– shortened at the penultimate hour by race officials from 22km down to 6km after the grueling approx. 110km distance the previous day).   I could scribe about the feeling of euphoria from crossing the line after 7 days and ~250km in the desert.   Or the taste of the local watermelon after not being able to stomach more than two cup s of tea for a day and a half.  I could carve out further images of additional members from the incredible field of competitors and their impressive accomplishments – some whom I’ve profiled (albeit ever-so-briefly) in previous entries.   I could wax lyrical of the morale turn-around from misery to ecstasy of how a meager spray nozzle lifted sprits when the temperature hit 110 degrees Farenheit inside (yes, inside) our tent yesterday (one of my tentmates remained in the tent for 12 hours without moving).  However, I don’t feel like telling those stories, because I am thinking about Nicholas Kruse, and yesterday’s tragedy.   

As context, on Day 1, all of the competitors are assigned to tents (about 9 people per tent).   I was assigned to Tent 3 – the “Han Clan”.   You may not run together with your tentmates (although some do), but you do spend most of the time after each stage recovering in your tent (resting your legs, escaping the heat and the wind), eating meals together, telling stories and learning about each other’s aspirations.    It’s part of the journey.   First, there is my good friend and running partner Brian Lang, an Executive at Mastercard (currently based in Prague, the Czech Republic) who has travelled with me for 10 years now running marathons around the world.  I’ve also written about Stan, the legendary 4 Deserts racer and Dentist / Entrepreneur from Western Canada .   Then there was Kristian - the young self-employed British aircraft engineer - who grew stronger by the day and more likable by the hour.   Steve and Brandon (a pair of firefighters from North Carolina ), and Danny (a Ranger) each carried confidence and an enviable spirit.   And finally, Nic, a mobile IT expert and Shanghai-based American national. 

Late on Day 3, we received word that Nic was struggling and still deep in the Canyons.  As I wrote in an earlier post, many others had difficulty navigating this cruel terrain given the temperatures.   Eventually a medical team was dispatched as someone had come across Nic seemingly unconscious.   Nic was suffering from severe dehydration and possibly sunstroke and was taken by car to the closest Urumqi hospital, accompanied by a Racing the Planet physician who remained with Nic throughout.  Official communications around Nic’s condition were sparse for the next 48 hours – although organizers did provide updates daily that Nic’s condition was stable.    On the eve of the final stage, we learned that Nic had been placed in a chemically-induced coma to stabilize him.  Last night, walking into the awards banquet, we learned that tragically, Nic died early yesterday morning.   

Some on the race never met Nic.  The boys from Tent 3 saw the child in Nic and his love for life and adventure.  We helped him pack his bag each morning.  We laughed at his jokes.  We waited for him to come in each day after the first two stages (as tentmates do).   We, like many, are now taking some time to digest the tragedy and to think about how to honor Nic in the right way.   In the meantime, our prayers and condolences go out to his family, his girlfriend and all those whose lives he touched.  

* FINAL RACE REFLECTIONS: 

You hope you made the right decisions, at the right time.   You hope that you might be able to stop asking yourself the “what if” questions about what you could have done differently.    I know that I gave it my all and I can walk away with that satisfaction.  You can never give too much in life, but you can always not give enough.   

We live in a world where change happens at such an accelerated pace that we see the present only as it’s disappearing.   Moments become shorter.   Memories fade.   Better to focus on the present than to worry about the future.  Ask yourself if you remember what you were worried about a year ago, or even a few months ago.   Was it really worth worrying about? 

During the course of my preparation for this race, a lot of people asked me, quite appropriately, “Why would you do that”?   To paraphrase a famous philosopher, the answer is never really the answer.  What’s really interesting is the mystery.   If you seek mystery instead of the answer, you’ll always be seeking (that’s the point).  Besides, no one ever really finds the answer.   If they think they have, well, then they would have to stop thinking.  But the goal is to seek mystery – evoke mystery – plant a seed in the garden in which strange plants grow and mysteries bloom.   The need for mystery is greater than the need for an answer.  At least it is for me.   And that’s why I run.  

- In honor and memory of Vincent James DiPede (1940-1985).  

[Thank you to all, once again, for your enoucragement, support, and donations].

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Somewhere the hurting must stop." - Terry Fox
 
Terry Fox was a Canadian humanitarian, athlete and cancer treatment activist.  He was famous for the Marathon of Hope, a cross-Canada run to raise money for cancer research and is considered one of Canada's greatest heroes.   He is the first hero of mine when I was a kid.  Terry died at the age of 19 in 1981.   It was the memory of Terry's courage that got me through the 100 km stage yesterday and this morning.  
 
I woke yesterday with what I would characterize as "Marathon Fever".   The cumulative miles and the heat in particular now taking its toll.   If I had woken up feeling the way I did anywhere else I would have stayed in bed.    I had no choice but to start slowly, walking through the villages for the first 2 hours.   I couldn't eat which was a sign of trouble to come later in the day.  
 
Yesterday and today's mammoth stage took us across multiple river crossings for the first hour before weaving through Uigher and Han Clan villages for several hours.  It was a welcome change from the vast openness of the plains and canyons of recent days.   It was a tease to run by the shops selling cold Cokes and other wares having had nothing but water for five days.   The sun was somewhat forgiving during the first half of the day but the wind was not.   For several hours we trekked across the lowest point on the planet - the Salt Flats in the Turpan Basin.    You had to be careful at times not to step into ankle deep salt pools.   I was less successful in my navigation and the heat rash around my ankles and feet shows the result.
 
After 5 hours running / walking I was finding it harder to take in fluids and calories.   After 11 hours, and 66 km, the piercing sun came out and caught me exposed along a long, 14 km stretch of open prairie.   When I arrived at the checkpoint, two runners were already down and passed out on intravenous.   The doctor took one look at me and told me to take a seat.   Thank God he did.   Nausea turned to vomiting and I was placed on an intravenous.  I passed out and lay on the ground for 2 hours before asking the doctor if I could keep going.   He said no, and I was forced to wait it out another 2 hours.   It was now 11pm, and 1/3 of the course was still to be conquered, so it was decision time.   If I didn't leave then, I probably wouldn't leave at all.   I got the green light and decided to walk with Lucy, an experienced competitor (to say the least - she's attempting to become the first woman to run all 4 desert races in one year).  
 
Heading out into the blackness of the desert with headlamps on our head, we started the long walk to the next checkpoint.   After two hours, we came to an open plain with no direction.  No flags, no glow sticks, no where to go.   The feeling that you're lost in the desert at 1 am after being out for 16 hours is a scary one.   [We learned today that local children had taken flags and markers thinking the race was over and hoping they were worth money].   After circling we eventually got lucky and found the right path.   After 3 more hours we made it to the next checkpoint.   My fever was raging and I had to sleep it off.    Lucy, like Terry Fox, was a hero to me last night.   I learned that walking in the dark with a friend is better than walking in the light alone.  
 
I waited until sunrise and then headed out at 6 am to finish the last 34 km and the stage.  One of the other lead runners, Ricki, had just finished getting to IV drips and asked if would roll with him - to walk in together.   Walking through rolling crops and orchards as the sun was rising was magical.  We then hit the sand dunes which were unforgiving - blowing sand at 30km / hour and 50 foot dune, after dune, after dune.   We covered 6 km of pure sand dune before finally finishing just before the midday sun was cranking up.   All in, 28 hours. 
 
It's now nine hours later at 9pm and we are all tending to our battle wounds for the final, 22 km stage tomorrow through the sand dunes.   Our campsite is literally in "The Oven", on the sand, in the hottest place in China.  The temperature hit 50 degrees Celsius today.    We're hoping for an early start tomorrow before the heat.    One more day.   Almost there.  
 
One problem is it has become very difficult to eat.   The drinking water is boiling hot.   I can't wait for a cold Coke tomorrow night.   And a beer.   Until then, I can't stomach another gel, Gu, or package of freeze-dried food.   I just need to stay hydrated - priority one. 
 
Thanks to all of you for your messages.    I really appreciate your support!
- Ryan

"The best way to cheer yourself up is to cheer someone else up." - Mark Twain.
 
The heat is the enemy and today she came ready for battle.  Despite a 4am busride to get to a 6am start, the sun was already unforgiving by about 11am.   Today's stage began in Grape Valley, along a deserted road and down a long riverbed beneath 50 foot hills and then up into the heart of the Flaming Mountain.   The first 15km were reasonable but the long and steep gulley during sunrise  turned quickly to blistering heat on loose clay hills and eventually soft sand dunes.   The last two hours were difficult for most and unbearable for some, in the "Never Ending Canyon" (it's actual name).  Imagine a 10km long and wide labyrinth of sand dune surrounded by sand walls 20-30 feet high.  Knee-deep sand at times meant no protection for the feet for even the most prepared, and certain disaster for those less so.  The canyon was psychologically challenging as you snaked left and right up and down for nearly 2 hours.
 
As I write this it is now past 6pm Beijing time, and 7 of the competitors have not yet completed today's stage after 12 hours.  Race organizers have added water as best they can to support athletes from suffering from dehydration and medical directors (and the "sweeper" - a man on his camel) are out on the course trying to pick people up.   Several notable incidents today - although not ones to take lightly.   Two of the top Chinese competitors were found by my running partner with 8km to go, passed out with no water or electroyltes.  Rumor has it that they blew by the last checkpoint without re-fueling.   That decision was the wrong one and was costly.   One of the Hong Kong men also came across 2 other men down during the last hour.  In an effort that I can only describe as heroic - and one I will never ever forget - he picked up the backpack of the man who was worst off and carried it in addition to his own (each weighs about 20lbs at this stage of the race).  He walked for about 90 minutes (I am guessing) with about 50lbs on his back.  The temperature was about 45 degrees. 
 
There are few words to describe how hot it is.  I also came across two of the top runners crashed on the ground in the canyon - with nohwere to hide.  Both were able to finish unaided, thankfully.  Although the majority of the field finished healthy and well, there are some still out there, and others that have had to withdraw.   I was fortunate.  I kept the pace strong and steady (thanks Terri!) from the beginning and managed to avoid the midday sun.  I managed 18th place today.  Still, rankings are really not what this race is about.   Each day you find yourself by looking a little deeper, for a little longer.   Today I had the pleasure of helping one of the top runners who wanted to quit during the last hour.  I won't mention his name to protect him (noting his sponsor wouldn't want to hear that either) but it was a rare moment that I ended up being in the position to "bring someone home".  I reminded him of how proud his two kids would be just for him finishing.   Of course, for those that have had to give up - giving up doesn't mean you're weak.  Sometimes it means you are strong enough to let go (and smarter than running passed a water station on empty).  However, today was not the day for this man to give up.   Today we finished together, solidly.   And I have to mention, my running partner Brian continues to be an inspiration - placing 10th again today - and seeing him do so well makes me very happy.  He deserves it!
 
After four days of wearing the same contacts, same running gear, not showering, and eating freeze dried foods, I am surprised at how little one needs to survive.  Out of clutter you find simplicity.  From discord, you find harmony.  And in the middle of difficulty lies opportunity.
 
Tonight we are spending the night at an Uigher ghost town.  It is a deserted, half-built Buddha temple / Disneyland theme park.  Yes, I am not hallucinating - there is a large sandstone Buddha about 50 feet high and an accompanying sandcastle in the middle of the desert.   Surreal.  it was originally meant to be for tourism (?) but was never finished.  We are sleeping "open style" - meaning 150 or so folks all lying on the floor head to toe.  Good times :)
 
As I spend more time together with fellow competitors the stories of how people arrived continue to amaze me.  Two couples are here on their honeymoon - good for them.  There is a Japanese woman whom I would not want to meet in a dark alley ... she's 61 .... and tough as nails.  Today she was out on the course in all black, from wrist to ankle.  Amazing.
 
Time to force down some calories.   It is getting tougher by the day to eat and drink but as to be done.
 
Tomorrow, and the next day for most, is "The Long March."  Beginning at 6am, the distance to be covered is a full 100km.   Tomorrow will be a memorable day - to day the least.   Given we will be running through the night, you won't hear from me for 2 days now. 
 
(Thanks to all for your blog comments and emails - I am reading them but reminding you I can't reply.  Please keep 'em coming!)
 
- Ryan
 

"If we are facing the right direction, all we have to do is keep walking."  - Buddha.
 
Unfortunately for a pair from India, they were not facing in the right direction yesterday and ended up straying off course for an hour and a half.   The course was well marked with pink flags, however they felt the direction straight up the mountain face must have been a mistake so they decided to stay on lower ground.  Eventually, one of the two circled back and found the course but it made for a long day for them.  Also of interest, one of the top Danish runners withdrew today after tearing her meniscus.  We all hope she recovers quickly. 
 
Today's stage was named "Never Ending Canyon".   Indeed.   This rocky dry riverbed went on for a stretch of 10km of pure loose rock.  Imagine running along the bottom of the ocean without any water.  Or perhaps Fred Flintstone's rock quarry.   The canyon had us start from the top of a cliff overlooking the canyon, down the ravine forcing us to cross six rivers with knee-deep water given heavy rain from the mountains.   The second phase of the route had us along long, loose sandy plains into a heaadwind.  Finally, dusty tracks turned into rolling clay mountain tops and hllls.   It was a fun day - sliding down huge clay mountains for the last hour (and of course, climbing back up). 
 
I ran for a while today with a runner from Hong Kong - Devyn, who is running the Gobi as her first foray into ultrarunning.  In fact, Devyn has never run a marathon before.  She's running to save the sharks - because she wanted to make a statement to show her friends and family how important it was.  So many great stories - and more to come.  I was jealous of Devyn's trekking poles on the clay hills today as she sailed up and down with greater ease than I did. 
 
The heat cooperated early in the morning but reared it's ugly head in the afternoon.  For those still on the course it was a prelude for what is to come.   Tomorrow's stage has us running the famed "Flaming Mountain", where temeperatures early in the week were hitting 49 degrees Celsius.  
 
Last night I was hit by the bug going around the camp (flu, diarrhea, you get the idea).   Constant attention to hygiene is becoming uber important.   With little sleep, and several trips to the toilet tents in the night I was feeling less than 100% today.  After a slower but steady start I picked up the pace in the middle of the stage before starting to fade on the hills. I think it was wise to pull back today before the heat starts to hit.  To avoid some of the piercing sun, our breakfast (meaning, hot water turned on) is set for 2:45am tomorrow, so that all are ready with gear for a 1.5-2hr bus ride at 4am for a 6am race start.   Now I understand why so many people in pictures from prior races are often wearing long sleeves and tights; it's often better to cover up than to be exposed.  
 
I finished today as planned, strategically slower than yesterday's 15th place finish, within a small pack that came in within a couple of minutes of one another in the 25-29 range, still within the top 20 overall for the first three stages.   That being said, as the temperature increases, I am becoming less concerned about where I am in the ranking and more concerned about hydration and staying healthy.  A quick trip to the medical tent should sort out my nausea. I'm still trying to get used to the 10 flies constantly flying around me - on my feet, on my food bowl, etc. (Hopefully Brian and my other tentmates won't kick me too many times during the night to stop me snoring and I might get 4 hours of sleep). 
 
Thank you again to all of you that sent comments or emails - I am receiving them and reading them all and hope to see more.  If you have questions about anything - ask me and I can write a response in my blog (eg, what are people eating, why are other people here, etc).  I've been trying to write one or two interesting soundbytes per day but don't have a lot of time to write as we're limited for time on the computer.   Tomorrow, I plan on profiling a few more competitors I''ve met when I have more time. 
 
Until tomorrow.  CCC.
- Ryan
 
 
 
As an addendum to yesterday's entry, a short note that Day 2's blog may not have gone through on time due to a breakdown in satellite communications due to weather. 

"The man who removes a mountain begins by carrying small stones." - Chinese Proverb.
 
The Gobi desert is the windiest non-polar desert in the world.  I realized the implications of this at the first campsite last night when I had to wear alll the clothes I had in my pack to stay warm, including a toque.  Picture 8 burly gents (3 Canadians, 2 British and 3 Americans) with 25 lbs of gear and backpacks shoulder to shoulder in a 10' x 10' tent.  Suffice to say it's not the Four Seasons.  Add to that a local wedding celebration (rumoured to have been crashed by Team Red Bull) added to the difficulty in getting quality winks.  After a restless sleep we were up close to sunrise for breakfast, course and medical briefings.   The area selected for the race has been closely guarded by the Chinese Government due to its proximity to Beijing - there have been few outsiders allowed to freely explore the region.  There are about a dozen media outlets from as many countries and many local Chinese media following the event and interviewing racers each day.  (For those interested, the media are posting interviews and around 100 photos each day on the site).
 
The race officially kicked off at the local mosque and took us out the clearing on dusty roads into the hills and plains, down into vast valleys for 20 miles.  By relative standards today's stage was described by the course director as moderately difficult.  Although, I have a different interpretation of what was described as "a few undulating hills."  Most fell victim to the terrain and were forced to walk the better part of the latter half given the sheer scale and slope of the mountains (myself included).  Still, today was a good day.  There are 130 competitors from 29 countries racing this year.  Although I don't have a target finish time in mind, it felt good to squeak into the top 15% - crossing the line in 21st place.  Time will tell (very soon) if I went out too hard too early.  Sadly, if true, a couple racers are not sure if they will continue in the morning.
 
Heavy rain in the mountains meant cooler temperatures prevailed (woo hoo!) and trickling streams that are usually dry riverbeds.  The beauty of the landscape is majestic.  Never before - and who knows when again - have I been alone in the valley of a mountain range with no one in sight for miles and miles for nearly 2 hours. 
 
Like me, my tent mates all have a story as to why they are here.  Over the course of the week I will share some of their experiences because the details of how and why some people arrived in the Gobi are remarkable.  For example, fellow Canadian Stan Lee, also a tent mate, has the unique accomplishment of being one of only 4 people in the world attempting to run across all 5 deserts in the world - this year.  He's carrying canned (yes, canned) food and rice and his backpack weighs over 30 lbs.  Stan is a dentist from Victoria, B.C., and just turned 50 years of age this year.   Friendships develop easily in the desert.  (Stay tuned for more on the impressive commitments and background of the field).
 
A bit of housekeeping: For those that want to send a message, you can post a reply on the blog or you can send an email clicking on "email a competitor".  (Note, that the emails are not private and can be read by others). 
 
Time for dinner.  Despite the physical challenge of the day it's difficult to eat. (However I did have some peanut butter this afternoon and it was so satisfying I practically licked the bowl). :)) 
 
Until tomorrow. 
- Ryan

Day 0.   The two-day journey to the start line has been lengthy.  From New York to Beijing, Beijing to Urumqi (the far northwestern most point of China), to the long caravan ride by bus and jeep through the desert to the Tian Shan Mountain range.   Acclimatization included exploring Beijing (through The Forbidden City, Tian Men Square, etc) with my 10-year training partner and good friend Brian Lang (who is also blogging throughout).  Yesterday we made the westerly trip from Beijing to Urumqi, on the outsikirts of Mongolia. 
 
Urumqi means "beautiful pasture" in the local Mongolian language.  It has earned a place in the Guiness Book of Records as the most remote city from any sea in the world.  The Turpan Basin is the second lowest exposed point on the Earth's surface after the Dead Sea, covering 50,000m square.  Surrounded by mountain ranges it is a beautiful area of varied terrain.  Breathtaking in fact. 
 
Today's preparations (and anxiety for some, including me) began at 9am and are only winding down now 14 hours later.  At race check-in I was pleased to have my bag check weigh-in at "only" 22lbs. 
 
The long and winding road to the first campsite was met with what could only have been unforeseen roadworks and construction - unwelcomed by the bus driver(s).   Thrice each of the six busloads had to unload for fear the bus would 1) not make it up or down the hill, 2) not successfully make the river crossing or 3) not be able to make it through the boulder-sized gaps in the road.   Consequently, the estimated 2-hour ride to camp was extended to 5 hours.  Nonetheless spirits were high and the mutiple song and dance ceremonies from the local Wugher people created surprise entertainment that passed the time. 
 
The race begins at moderate altitude before descending into the Turpan Basin.  Temperatures have fallen 20 degrees or more in the last hour as cold sets in at nightfall.  As I write, I am looking out across vast plains towards the range of mountains as the sun is only now just setting at 10:30pm.   We are so far north that days are filled with nearly 18 hours of sunlight.  (This will be welcomed durng the difficult 54 mile stage on Day 5). 
 
As twilight turns to night, several lessons have already been learned and warnings forewarned.  First, the physicians (of which there are six on site and at each checkpoint each day) have informed us that it's wise to remember that the race cannot be won on the first day but it certainly can be lost.   Those that do not heed that warning will certainly remember it days later as the effect of the 250km+ starts to take its toll.   Second, hydration is critical.  Those that do not replace electrolytes as prescribed may suffer from dehydration and need an intravenous drip.  (One IV drip is ok, but two IV drips required and you're disqualified).  Note to self: more salt is better. 
 
The embers of the fire still burn but it's time for bed.   Tomorrow the race begins.  Thanks again to all for your support.  -Ryan

"I am always doing things I can't do; that's how I get to do them" - Pablo Picasso. 

T - 5 days to Race: 

With five days to go, there is nothing left to do.   
No more running, no more buying gear, no more packing (and unpacking, and repacking).  No more decisions about what to do, what to wear, what to eat or how to fit in 80-100 miles of running each week.  Just rest.  Time to think.  Time to reflect.  

I head to China this afternoon.  Stopping first in Beijing before heading to Urumqi Friday morning for registration, followed by "the last supper" before I leave with nothing but 25lbs of gear on my back and 255 km ahead of me.  

I will be posting here daily during the event so stay tuned. 

The waiting game begins.  

Ryan