Today I finished the 3rd of my objectives. Namely finishing day 2 to add to day 1. Not dying is still a work in progress. So, 80km down and still mostly in one piece. That being said camp was a different place this morning. Yesterday's cheers and bravado were replaced by a lot of wincing faces and people walking gingerly. Today was supposedly and easy walk across farmland. Farmland that was liberally scattered with sharp rocks and ankle turning rocks and my new unfavourite phrase "rain gullies". After yesterday's early exuberance I decided to try pacing myself. Net result I came across the line an hour faster. That's the good news. The bad news is my ankles and knees are in pieces. And tomorrow is a mountain stage. Ah well. Tonight we're camping by an icy stream which was great for my ankles but so cold I could stay in it for more than 10 seconds. As I write this some folks have set up a really badly balanced PA system and are blasting out Gangnam Style. If this continues I suspect that 100+ angry people who are trying to sleep are going to limp angrily in their direction and have words in 15 different languages. If there was ever a group of people who weren't  going to embrace a random rave - this isn't it. I'm saving myself for my daily contemplation tomorrow - "Is this the day the Gobi is going to break me?". Guess we'll find out.

Ultra runners always travel single file to hide their true numbers

Day one. 42km (26.2 miles) and 1,192m of elevation gain. Piece of cake. Or perhaps not. The race started with some fanfare, liberal fist bumping and a potentially unhealthy dose of optimism. The course was split into 4 sections which were labeled as moderate, moderate, moderate and very difficult. Either way I figured that we were heading for a decent 6 hour time when we cruised through checkpoint one in 1h20. Especially since the section of ankle breaking loose shale was a distant memory. It’s at this point where the truth of the matter became apparent. The Gobi wants to kill me. But only after it’s made me suffer. One thing I neglected to mention was the 8am start temperature was 23 degrees Celsius. This rapidly climbed to 30 so we figured we’d make time before things got really hot. Now, one of the downsides of coming from Britain is that the weather really doesn’t complain and at this point we made a new friend who I shall call Mr Hyperthermia. Mr Hyperthermia is one of those conditions which end in coma and then death so when he comes a knockin’ you pay attention. The next 2 hours became a battle to stay cool. Water was poured over heads, wet rags were applied to necks and foreheads and our pace plummeted. Stage 2 was finished with the clock reading 3h10 but life had turned into a battle against the rising temperature. To add to the whole Tatooine vibe we then entered the Mysterious Valley which is something straight out of Star Wars. This meant that not only was I fighting against my new friend but I was on the lookout for Jawas and/or Sand People with no Old Ben to come to the rescue. Stage 3 was a gradual but unrelenting uphill section where we gained 500m in elevation. Checkpoint 3 arrived after an age with the clock on 5h. Then we got to ‘very difficult’ which consisted of an indeterminately large number of rickety steps up the side of a hill past a temple just to prove that monks the world over have a penchant for building in remote places. It also seemed like the whole region had come to gather and watch the foreigners suffering. And I won’t lie to you – it made for lots of suffering and great entertainment. After that a goat track which a goat would have sneered at and a joyous series of up and down over sharp rocks. At this point I was tempted to sit down for a good cry. After this Alex and I made a pact – “never again”. Still tomorrow is another day and the stage profile reads easy, easy, easy, moderate. How easy this will be for someone currently walking like John Wayne is another matter. Anyway – day one is complete. That at least makes me happy. Everything else will happen as it happens. Oh and the finishing time: circa 8h25. Part 4 really was a bitch and I’m heading off for a cry.

So here we are. First camp. 17 hours from Shanghai to Bole last night. Multiple bag packings, one nervous kit check and a police escort later we're out in the middle of nowhere. I'm sharing a tent with 7 other folks, 2 brits, a Kiwi, two Americans and a couple of Chinese. Spirits are high despite the first of many dehydrated meals. Due to weirdness with time zones in China (there's one big time zone for the whole country) it won't get dark here until about 10:30pm. Which means 2 more hours of relentless heat and then hoping it cools down enough to use my sleeping bag. Then up at 6, race briefing at 7:30 and off at 8am. Due to location on the border we have a small camp of Chinese soldiers discreetly around a hill from us to stop anyone straying and what I gleaned from the race briefing was - throw stones at dogs, avoid green vegetation and don't take photos of buildings with blue roofs. For extra fun I also signed up for the medical study into hyponatraemia in the hopes of getting a warning if my sodium levels become critical. Roll on tomorrow.

They say the second night of jet lag is the worst. I hope that's the case. Tomorrow is the final leg into Bole from Shanghai. Then one night, race briefing and the first night in camp before it all begins. I've made my goodbyes to everyone back home and I'm focused on that first goal. Checkpoint 1. If I think of this as 250km my mind is going struggle so time to repeat the mantra of setting small goals, make sure I take care of myself and see where it goes. An old mountaineer once told me there were two rules: "don't fall off and don't get sick". For this it's "listen to your body, don't get sick and deal with the terrain as it happens". I briefly considered target times but, in the end, I'd just be happy to cross the finish line. Or failing that - make it back relatively unscathed. Looking forwards to meeting everyone in Bole and getting this show started.

Well, this is it. In 7 days time it's time to get on a plane for the epic journey to northwestern China with my buddy, Alex. Six months ago I'd never run more than 10 miles in a single go and had no idea what I was getting myself into. Today I've run 50km+ multiple times and studied everything I could get my hands on regarding ultras, endurance, nutrition and training. And, I can honestly say I have no idea whether I'm ready. All I can do is show up. Take care of myself. And see what happens.

 

For the last couple of days excitement has been gnawing away at the edges of my awareness slowly demanding more of my attention. The last six months of training, setbacks, visas, forms and preparation are coming to their conclusion. Yesterday, I had a discussion with my boss over who gets to look after my team if I don't make it back - reminding me that this is as hard as it gets. Shortly after, I nearly broke my ankle playing table tennis so maybe it's time to wrap myself in cotton wool and avoid potential mishaps. Or at least stop playing table tennis on a wet floor...

 

Training has dropped from long range endurance to a combination of strength, core and flexibility. Now, all that's left is some patch sewing, last minute kit tweaks, getting my emergency iPod in shape and bag packing practice.

 

Alex has been practically bouncing off the walls for the last couple of weeks. Now I'm suddenly starting to get an idea why. Gobi March - here I come.

 

Also, a bit hat tip for my friends and colleagues. So far my fundraising has exceeded my wildest dreams. Thanks to everyone.