First off, thank you everyone for all the amazing comments, you all really have no idea how much it all means to me. every single one of your comments is a serious mental boost. it really helps to keep me going knowing that everyone is looking out for me and supporting me.

Stage 3 is finally over! It took well over 10.5 hours to finish and the pain was incredible. It took well over 2.5 hours for me to get over the most difficult hill today and I really thought my left leg was going to fall off. I cried all the way through the last 3km of today’s stage. The only thing that kept me going was this incredible need to see this through, which helped limit the pain until I hobbled over the finish line, as well as the company of another New Yorker, Michael, who walked with me the entire way from check point one to finish.

The hill though, that nearly did me in. 500 meters up with a 22 degree incline. I wanted to roll over and die right there, maybe let the cows trample me, but having support from another competitor really helped ease the mental pressure of it all. It was beautiful going up the hill as well, there was a river running through it and everything around was green. We had to climb over 3 cable bridges to get to there as well. I felt seasick on each one as they bounced around and it took everything I had in me to keep my head level.

The downhill did not make it much easier either. Gravel roads. I never want to see one again. They add so much pressure with every step and even with lots of padding in my hiking boots I could feel everything in my feet. Richard, I am not converting to barefoot running, not after this. Thankfully no new blisters, though I am completely numb at the moment. The volunteers had to rub the life back into my legs once I got over the finish line. I am sure there is lots of footage of my crying online now as well, screaming about how I couldn’t understand why I was doing this anymore, but I am done now.

Halfway there! At this point I have to finish. mentally, I just need to get this done, though I know that the pain is only going to get worse. At least today was meant to be the most difficult day and the medical team has given me lots of painkillers to deal with my leg.

I miss home, my loved ones and my simple creature comforts, but its all a process, and I will be home in less than a week at least.

Wish me luck for stage 4 tomorrow! Please keep the positivity flowing in, after today, I really really need it.

Lots of love!

Whoever said that today would be an easy day is full of it. Today was horrific, I can not bare to walk. It took me another 9.5 hrs to get through the day, and tomorrow is marked as ‘very difficult’ which makes me extremely nervous. Between the steep hills, the rock littered paths, the extreme winds and the rain, today was a nightmare.

I spent a good 20minutes of today, just after checkpoint bawling my eyes out. I genuinely did not think that I was going to finish the day. My left knee was on fire and the wind forced me to spend much time walking sideways. I was lucky enough to run into a Korean bloke at about 2km into the final section today to walk with. Neither of us knew any of what the other was saying but it was wonderful to have someone to stay next to, the pitter patter of our poles syncing up as we screamed our heads off.

Coming around the corner though to see the campsite in the end was wonderful. The two of us ran over the finish line together to the beating drum, signaling the end of the course. The camp is beautiful tonight. Its lush and green, with a river running through. I was able to take a quick dip, rinse my hair and wash my face. Unfortunately I have discovered two new blisters on my right foot. Nothing could have prepared me for these. I really thought all those years of running around barefoot would save me. Apparently a massive pack does not help anything. My shoulders have started chafing as well. I have had to tape both shoulders, they’re so sore from the weight..

Happily, the nightmares have abated, and I’ve gone back to my usual pattern of dreaming about kittens, fluffy clouds and ice cream with marshmallow sauce (yummm). Now that I’m starting the surprisingly long (and expensive) journey from Hong Kong to Bole in just two days time, I guess there isn’t much more that I can do or worry about (except having all my food confiscated at customs or losing my check-in baggage or not getting to Bole in time (intra-China flight delays)!!!). Instead I’m feeling pumped up and I’ve sent in my Madagascar deposit (something I told myself I wouldn’t do until after I survived the Gobi and decided I loved it, but I’ll deal with the consequences later) and been spending much of my time trying to decipher the course. So happy there won’t be any sand dunes!

My boyfriend has officially packed all my gear (Richards’s a self-proclaimed over packing pro. I dump, squash everything around and hope for the best) and I’ve finally gotten around to booking hotels for all the stopovers that will be made having to get to Bole and coming back home.

The pack, for something so small, is really freaking heavy. All those weekends of hauling 8 kilos of rice around Hong Kong may prove to not be enough. I’m not sure what I can take out to lighten the load. The only luxuries I’m taking with me are contacts solution, sleeping pills, and a portable charger for the sake of my Blackberry, which may or may not end up accidently squashed by a camel (KIDDING!!!).  Granted, I’m bringing about 2kilos worth of jelly beans to keep me sane, but at least I’ll end up eating those and my pack will get consistently lighter as I devour everything in sight. I still worry a bit as I’ve only really packed a little over 2000 calories a day (I’ve been made aware of a certain individual who WILL over pack on food, so I know who I’ll be circling like a vulture once I run out. – Thank you Mel and Charles!).

I’m sure that I should have and could have trained harder and better for this race, but it’s a struggle to balance training and the rest of my life. Under the premise that I’m “tapering,” I really haven’t done anything but swim the past two weeks. Regardless, I’m feeling confident that I’ll finish. I’m just planning on hanging around near the back of the pack, rolling around in muck like the happy little piggy I am and munch munch munching on jelly beans and potato chips, while making people laugh at my nonexistent dancing skills as I bounce up and down whatever hills the Gobi throws at us.

Being the highly rational (paranoid) person I am, the nightmares have officially started. The faces of claustrophobia, severe isolation, starvation, heat stroke, weight gain (this one is beyond me), and bodily harm are all building up in my sleeping mind, like a raging Hydra. I’ve started waking up in the middle of the night, ripping at my boyfriend’s arm because I’ve slept only to face one Gobi related disaster after another. (Last night was a “Survivor” styled episode where I was voted out of the tent and left to freeze to death outside).

I’ve done my research and my training and I feel like I’m as prepared as I’m going to be, but there is that lingering fear that I’ve done something wrong. Whether it be that I haven’t gathered the appropriate gear, that I’ve gotten my nutrition all wrong, that my childhood aversion to heat will become a factor or that I haven’t spent enough time going up and down mountains to train, the fear is building.

Fear is natural (I hope) before an adventure such as this and there is little doubt in my mind that I can do this and make it through what I hope will end up being a nice long stroll through the desert, but I really wish my head would quiet down. We’ve got 13 days left; there really isn’t all that much that I change or do anymore. I guess it’s really just to get out there and hope my fears will allay when we have the Gobi staring us in the face.

It’s almost here! I know I’m not ready and I’m beyond mentally drained and terrified as the big day draws closer, but I just want to get there already! Need to get to that damn starting line and get going!

I’m not ready and whatever crap I was spewing a few months ago about finishing high in the rankings just seems like overambitious nonsense to me now, where all I wanted was to convince myself that I was a superstar. Yeah, it’s not happening. I’m down to the point where I’ll be happy just finishing this thing and getting that medal at the end. Walk, run, crawl, it doesn’t matter. I just want to get through those 250kms, collapse gasping for air about 2 meters past the finish line and then crawl, tail between my legs, back home and into bed.

These past few weeks, I feel like I’ve been riding the most insane emotional rollercoaster, where I’ve had to let in the fact that I’m not super confident and I’m not the “rockstar” that my friend’s and their parents make me out to be. I’ve been having complete emotional breakdowns day after day after day and have had to get my ass kicked more than once back into line.

I have refused to train for this race with music and without it it’s been next to impossible to shut off that little voice in my head screaming that my legs are going to fall off if I go any further. So, having a group of people there to kick my ass, whether yelling at me to go faster up a hill or quite literally kicking my ass, or listening to me hysterically cry over the phone to them or giving me tips and advice as to how much to drink and when, and what to pack, has been amazing. If it wasn’t for people like them, forget making it through the entire race, I don’t know if I’d even make it through the first day.

So really, to people who have tolerated my incessant crap, from my training partners, and my best friends, and the “shifu” thank goodness for you.