Well - Stage 5 and I showed my conservative side. After spending Day 4 watching people passing out from the heat and seeing the huge drama of how the race doctors could not get to the competitors in trouble - I spent the night sweating out at least 4 litres of water (our water is rationed so this a lot!) and worrying about what would happen the next day. The only way to get the people with heat stroke out of the problem canyon on Day 4 was by camel and it took hours. One of the people in the worst shape is now in a coma in Urumqi. It literally took hours for the doctors to get to him and we were all watching what was happening - it was very uninspiring of confidence. So...surprising or not as this might be for people, I decided that I came out here to test my strength and endurance, not to potentially really hurt myself so I actually I opted out of Stage 5. I made the decision because the weather was supposed to be up above the heat we had in Day 4, and I had no confidence that we were being sent on trails that were accessible to emergency help if we needed it, which if the heat was the same or higher would be necessary. I have already almost died, and I do not want to do it again, especially on purpose. Of course, as my luck has it, as soon as I made this decision, the weather clouded over and most of the day was relatively cool! I disappointed a few of my tent mates quite a bit, and I hope I am not disappointing all of you as well, but I can tell you that I made the decision based on my confidence in the race organization - I still feel great physically -when I dropped out of the stage I was still in the top 10 women I think, but I felt that if Ran were in the position I was facing and he made the decision to continue after seeing what I saw at the end of Stage 4 - I would have been pretty angry and would feel that it was irresponsible. I like my life.
Rather than gong back to Urumqi and waiting for the other competitors to finish while I am in the comfort of a 5 star hotel, I am now in the final camp, fondly called the Oven in the middle of the sand dunes on the edge of the Turpan Basin. I have decided that I will finish the final stage - 22K over the sand dunes tomorrow, which ironically will probably turn out to be really difficult because the weather has now gone back to being extremely hot and sunny (yesterday was cloudy and 20C cooler than normal, so of course - yes, I should have done the stage!). I am struggling now with the decision. I will do my best tomorrow with the dune (my favourite - sand for 22k! in the desert heat!). Expect some drama!
Love to you all. I will be in Urumqi tomorrow at any rate and back in Hong Kong on Sunday night. Ran, I can not wait to see you.
 

Greetings from Gost Village (I think they mean they meant Ghost Village) at the end of Stage 4. First, I have been reading all your blog comments and the emails - thank you for both so much. To come in at the end of the day (especially days when I feel like quitting) and to read your encouragement inspires me to continue - whether this is a good thing or not is debatable though! I seriously questioned my sanity and everyone elses sanity for encouraging me to keep going today!

Anyway, Stage 4 is done. I did well in the first two parts of the stage - lots of running and some good competition with a couple guys who usually end up at the same place in the pack as me. However, then we headed up into the sandy hills to run to the Flaming Mountain and I started to have a really hard time. Note to self: remember  that you HATE running in the sand. I hate running in the sand. All these people I had run by earlier passed me on this first big hill, then when we started the final section of the race the volunteers reminded us that this last section would be difficult but we would be going through some beautiful gulleys and canyons - ha! That is if you actually looked around and appreciated the beauty. I did try - I took some pictures in the beginning, but this last section was terrible and a real ordeal for most of us. Though it was only 12k, I started it at 10am when the heat was already starting to build. The trail ran through 12k of never-ending sand gulleys - between two sand walls with a little path in the middle - full 35-40C heat, no wind and the path just wound on and on and on and on - no shade anywhere. I am not sure why I am so terrible at running in the sand (no experience?) but all I could do was trudge along in this never-ending gulley, occasionally stumbling to a run if there was any downhill, trying not to freak out at the intensity of the heat, the fact that I was alone, it was so so so hot and that this gulley really never ended. I was drinking a lot (and Dad, of COURSE I am using electrolytes, I would have been out of this race well before now if I was trying to do this on water alone), had eaten my regular two gel shots for energy, but I have to admit that probably my mind overcame my body and I was fighting with this irrational fear that I was not going to be able to finish the section - its funny what power your mind has over your body - both positive and negative: my mind was telling me I was going to die in the middle of this stupid gulley so my heart was pounding and my energy level did not seem high enough to continue, but another part of my mind was insisting that my feet had to keep moving as fast as I could to just get out of this pounding heat as quickly as possible so I wouldnt die! A funny little conundrum. It did not help that every once in a while I would come across other competitors collapsed on the ground, some throwing up, some pretty delirious, others just hiding from the sun in a little sliver of shade under a rock. I would try to check to see if they were ok - most of the time they would say they still had water and that I should just keep going. Of course, this made me want to try to get in all the more quickly but I was also freaked out by what was happening to everyone and did not want this to happen to me. Finally an Irish guy came up behind me (someone  still walking and  not passing out!) and I literally latched on to him so I wouldnt be alone in this gulley any longer. He was very helpful, telling me I was strong enough physically and mentally to finish this - and I was but I sure did not feel like it. I finally got into camp at around noon after 6 hours on the course. I let all the staff know about the people in trouble up in the gulley and now those of us who have finished have been waiting for those who can to stagger in - while for the past few hours teams of volunteers and doctors have been heading up to the gulley to give IVs and try to get those in trouble down. Lots of people have been able to make it in on their own - again, mind over body! No vehicles can drive up there so unless they wait for the camel to come to get them  at the end of the day, the only choice is to walk down.

The competitors who had managed to run through the gulley earlier in  the morning luckily missed the worst of the heat - one of the many priviledges of being first - so I think there were still some  pretty good race times. The two fast runners in my tent - Denvy and Christian - did not seem to be too affected by the heat in the gulley. However, a lot of people were in pretty serious trouble in the heat today. My problem was mostly mental - my body was going, I was drinking, I am not dehydrated. I am pretty intimidated by the 99k run in the Turpan Basin that starts tomorrow morning. I just hope they do not stick the trail through another never-ending gulley from  hell - there will be a lot of problems if this happens, I think. The description is for us to complete 6 or 7 checkpoints for a total of 99k - from the camp to the first checkpoint is rated moderate/difficult and has us running down into the Turpan Basin for 12k - this will be at 6am though so wont be bad. The rest of the descriptions are for the trails between checkpoints to be moderate (which in the past has been ok). Its going  to be later in the day - after 11am until late afternoon - when the heat is supposed to be up to 40-45C that it might be bad. Once it gets dark, that will be fine for the temp, but remember it stays light until 10-11pm. Anyway, I have decided to do my best to finish Stage 5. My toenails are still hanging on - unbelievable! I drilled them again today to get some more liquid out from under them - they are pretty painful but if I can avoid infection,  they may just make it to the end of the race - considering they have been just hanging on since Day 1, this is amazing. My shoulders are now bruised as well as swollen because of the bag,  but to be honest I was not even thinking of this during the route today! I just wanted to get out of that stupid gulley without passing out. It will probably be the same thing tomorrow, for however long it takes me to complete the 99k.

On a more positive note, the place we are staying tonight - the Gost Village - is neat to look at.  I guess it is a replication of an old Buddhist temple complex/Uigur village. It is a strange hybrid of Muslim and Buddhist - the architecture looks Muslim (minarets) but there are huge Buddha statues all over the compound. The buildings are made of what they are describing as adobe brcks (this is the Chinese to English translation) so the beige buildings blend in with the sand all around us. We are all sleeping in a big open room tonight so the snoring and farting should be amazing. Luckily, once I eat one of my extra calorie dehydrated meals, take a sleeping pill and put in my earplugs, I am hoping that the fact that it is so hot means that I will be out like a light - no more shivering in my sleeping bag tonight!

Our start time tomorrow is 6am. We continue until we finish the 99k (however long that takes - 24hrs? 40hrs? People say different things and I guess it is really individual) so I probably will not be blogging until Friday because I will be out somewhere in the Turpan Basin - hopefully overcoming any irrational fears that crop up of the desert heat. We are now all trying to drink as much as possible right now to pre-hydrate for tomorrow. I think almost everyone is out blogging right now about our common enemy: the desert. I hope it all goes well and I can blog about my successful finish next time I write. If not: dear Stanley - dont worry, I leave all my many riches and possessions to you (just kidding Ran!). All very heartening! Dont worry, I will quit if I feel sick at all tomorrow.

Love to you all.

Ok - Stage 3 finished, and again I finished it! I mixed up yesterday by saying that we were heading for the Flaming Mountains, when actually we were doing the Never-ending Canyon, then on to Peach Village (though I think they are apricots, not peaches in this village - just saying). Last night I thought we were going to have a huge rainstorm from the look of the black clouds on the peaks of the mountain across the valley from where we were camped, but actually the clouds just spat at us a bit, the wind came up and blew our tents around - but no major weather event occured. So, yesterday was a good day - I felt great, took photos and generally had a smile on my face - lucky me, I am in the Gobi Desert, look at how beautiful these mountains and valleys are, cool there are huge dogs and horses all over the place. Unfortunately, last night was hell - I did not sleep very much because I was so cold and I woke up with a bad belly.
Anyway, today started with me in the gross, disgusting toilet tent (a hole in  the ground filled with shit from all the racers, RTP staff and local workers). Stage 1 was 10k along a river bank full of rocks made for people with bad ankles like me - I fell on my face a bunch and twisted my ankles into pretzels but nothing broke so I kept swearing and kept going - lots of river crossings meant soaking shoes and socks but that was not a real problem - then Stage 2 was 11.5k along a really boring  road but I was able to shuffle along (my trick is to run 4 markers then walk 1, etc) - I had a guy in my sights who beat me  yesterday and I got in front of him and the sound of any footstep behind me kept me shuffling a little faster - I may not win this race but I am still competitive. Stage 3 was supposed to be another 11.5k but it was actually longer we realized as we struggled along in the supposed last 5k (actually 7 or 8!). I ran that too - I have no idea of my standing in terms of the stats in the race because actually this is a race against myself but I did come in in about 4hrs and 50min, so this was probably as good as yesterday. I dont know how many people were in front of me or behind me (though Denvy and Amanda are both in front - they are way more prepared than me obviously!). Considering I had the runs and felt like vomitting all day, I did better than I thought I would. The weather helped a lot - it rained on and off most of the day while I was running - I got in a bit before 1pm - though now the sun is out and so are the flys. Peach Village is a Uigher (sp?) village - all wattle and daub low houses with walls that are at least 3 feet thick. This is a little oasis in the middle of a dry, rocky, desolate desert - there are apricot trees all around and a couple streams that run through the middle.
We just found out that were (sorry cannot figure out the punctuation on this key board) going to kicked out of bed tomorrow morning at 2:45am, get our hot water for our disgusting dehydrated oatmeal breakfasts (I will never eat oatmeal again), then on to buses at 4am and driven so we can start Stage 4 (this time to the real Flaming Mountain) at 6am. I guess the organizers are quite worried about the heat tomorrow so want us out as early as possible. Tomorrow is supposed to be 36k.
In terms of my physical shape - my fitness is fine, I can shuffle along quite a long way, especially when I force myself to take gel shots (I can not eat any of my other snacks during the day, though I am  drinking - no more swolen hands and I actually peed on the course today - a first! Sorry if that was too  much information, but I am running by myself all day, fixated on my body and stuff like this so I may be losing it a bit). My problems are my toes and my shoulders. I still did not lose my toenails today, so more fluid just built up underneath them. One of the doctors forced me  to learn how to drill a hole in my toenails when I came in today so I could relieve the pressure and now supposedly I can do this myself on the trail (oh joy!). Anyway, these toes are really painful but so far it has all numbed a bit after I walk/run a bit - hopefully this will continue but the long day is in a couple days (99k) and supposedly all sorts of things can go wrong with your body on this long of a run - as I can imagine. My shoulder problems are due to the stupid pack and the hydration system I have that hangs from the front of my shoulders. There is quite a bit of swelling in the joint between both my clavicles and where the shoulder joins - they feel bruised but are just really swollen (no discoloration yet). Other than that, I have the regular aches and pains in muscles and knees, but during the day so far this has not bothered me. I am drinking a lot - I learned my lesson on Day 1. It is frustrating because the people in the front of the race do not have blisters, have great, light-weight gear and sleep like babies around me in their uber-sleeping bags and  pads (Denvy is doing really well - she is in my tent, and one of the top men who is battling for first is also in my tent - they annoy me with how healthy they still feel, their tiny, lightweight backpacks and how well they sleep  at night so they wake up refreshed - argh! Anyway, it takes all sorts of preparation to do well in this race, I am learning this lesson well.
Again, thank you so much for your messages and posts. I basically run (shuffle) by myself all day and when I am not concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other and wondering when the next bloody checkpoint will finally appear around the next corner - I think about my life.I have not come up with any epiphanies yet, I doubt - but thinking about each one of you and what you have said is really helpful. Each day I need to overcome the butterflies in my stomach before I start the course for the day because I have to admit I wonder each time if I can do it, and if I can do it well enough to feel ok with it. So far,  other than Day 1 (day of hell),  I have been ok. For anyone who wants to challenge themselves physically and mentally in a remote, beautiful part of the world, I really recommend this. I am taking it one day at a time - I finished three days so far and I really think I can do tomorrow. The 99k route is still not something I am dwelling on too much - it took some people who are fast in this race 24hrs the last time they did this stage so I guess I have to realize it could take me this long or maybe longer. Unfortunately my headlamps are not working well - I thought  we changed the batteries in these lamps Ran! If my headlamps are not working and I need to run through the desert at night by myself I am not sure what I will do. If I ask for help with batteries, I will be disqualified. I am hoping that if I take the batteries out and say some loving things to them, they will work. I will keep you posted. Basically I need to figure this out in the next day or so because the long stage in Day 5 and tomorrow is Day 4.
Ran, I love you. I hope you are feeling great. There is an older French couple who are doing this race together - they are the cutest thing. They go pretty slowly so I have not actually seen it, but rumor has it that they hold hands when they go up each hill. I am not saying we need to do this race together when we are in our 50s, but I am so glad we can do adventurous things together and are heading in this direction. BTW, why has Stanley not written me?
Ok, it is 5:25 and probably past my bedtime considering we are getting up at 2:45am for a long hot run, I should get my yummy meal together and try to go to sleep while it is still light out. Wish me and my toes luck tomorrow!

Stage 2 complete, and a much much better day today! I think it's a bit psychological actually - yesterday was so bad that I figured it probably wouldn't be much worse on Day 2 and I had already survived Day 1 - today I drank a lot, shuffled (kind of ran) at anything that resembled a downhill and improved my time by more than two hours (of course today was a shorter course, but I still only came in an hour or so behind the leaders). My toes are not cooperating - I didn't lose the toenail I wanted to today - it's still hanging in there and building up more liquid behind the nail and another nail on the other foot is now doing the same thing. I went to the medical tent and the doctors did their thing on the toes, but I think I'll lose the nails tomorrow in the middle of the course rather than in a nice sterile medical tent.
The scenery was again spectacular - I took a few more photos today (yesterday none because I was miserable). We are heading into the 'Flaming Mountains' tomorrow and it will be a longer day that will end with a long uphill/downhill section. Unfortunately right now the weather is definitely threatening rain and we can hear thunder. We're on a plateau above a huge river valley and I think this plateau will probably flood (not a great choice for a campsite!). I'm going to get some hot water for my dehydrated Chicken Tikka pouch meal and retreat into the tent. We're just feeling the first drops of the rain now - oh no!
Ok, I love you all - thank you for the messages. I'll be doing my best tomorrow - toenails or not.

Greetings from Kazak Valley at the foot of the Kazak Mountains. Stage 1 is finished - and I finished it! This race is probably what childbirth is like - it's painful and exhausting but once it's done you forget all the blood, sweat and tears and just remember that you accomplished an amazing thing. Well...I don't know if I've actually forgotten all those blood, sweat and tears, but once I finally arrived in camp all my promises to myself to quit the race faded into the background.
First: the difficulties. Today was not a walk on Lantau. I think because of my shoulder problems in the last month with the result that I couldn't carry my full pack on many long runs/walks - my backback (and all that stuff I'm carrying) really dragged me down. I started the race as one of the last people out of the camp, stuffing everything in my bag, yanking on my gaiters and hat and a bit intimidated by all the racers around me, so I promised myself that I wouldn't push myself too much today - and beyond the fact that I finished instead of collapsing in a heap at the foot of a couple downhills and crying for Ran to come pick me up - I didn't run very much. There were three checkpoints today - the first two were pretty easy (8k approx. each), and though I discovered that my hands swell up like balloons if I don't drink enough water in the desert, I was feeling pretty strong. Then the last stage started with what the volunteers were euphemistically were calling 'rolling hills' - and these continued forever...Coming from Hong Kong and BC, uphills are not a huge problem, but the scree-covered drops that were the downhills were awful. My toes blistered and I'll probably lose a first toenail tomorrow and my stupid heavy backback bruised my problem shoulder and chafed my hips (I'm trying to wear all my weight on my hips, but I think I tightened everything up too much!). I need to drink a lot more (though I was drinking every 5 minutes), because I realized that my swollen hands tell a different story. And finally, maybe it's the altitude and a reaction from the tumultuous weeks before I left, but I burst into tears for no apparent reason a couple of points in the route - so, this is really testing all sorts of things for my, I guess. The last time it happened, I just decided to run instead of cry for no reason and this actually helped! I'll keep trying that strategy.
Now: the positives. The scenery is stunning, stunning, stunning! There are wild horses in the hills in front of me right now and due to all the rain that deluged this area before we arrived, the hills are green with grasses, little yellow flowers and sage brush. The smell of sage is everywhere. Today as we were walking there were Chinese jet fighters going over us, breaking the sound barrier so those explosions kept things exciting. Tomorrow we're walking up into the Kazak Mountains.
I didn't have a stellar time today, though I finished in the top half. Hopefully once my backpack lightens up tonight as I eat more food, I'll have an easier time with my bag, but I think I have to be honest and break it to you all that I am not going to win the race! (Like you actually,  thought I would!) I think I finished it in 6 hours and a bit. Denvy, the other Shark Rescue racer (who actually trained with her backpack fully loaded - smart girl) did a lot better. I think she ran a lot of it. I think she trained more intensively so she deserves many congratulations for her time. In terms of the weather, it's stopped raining the last few days and the sun is out, though there's a really cold wind. I should have brought a better sleeping bag and liner - I spent all last night shivering until I took a sleeping pill. Tonight I'm going to break out the emergency space blanket and I hope that helps - I'm already wearing all my clothes.
Though I berated myself about 5 million times today for wanting to do this race (why can't just let myself get a fat bum like everyone else and take up a more relaxing hobby, like...drinking margaritas - oh, wait - I already do that! Maybe I should take up knitting or getting pedicures?) I will be continuing tomorrow. I've had my blisters drained and taped up, my backpack will be lighter and I'll tape up my hips and shoulders where they're chafing. I think I've got more than enough food - my issue is in figuring how much water to drink.
Thank you so much for your messages - they really mean a lot to me. I'll remember them tomorrow if I start sobbing on the trail again (someone loves me, they'll miss me if I pass out here in the Gobi Desert!) - I'll try to run more tomorrow and make a better time. The fastest time today was something like 3 hours, there are rumours that 5 people dropped out during the race and though it's now almost 10 hours since we started the race, some people are still staggering in - so really in the scheme of things 6 hours isn't SO bad. But still.
I hope the rain stops in Hong Kong - Ran, Sputnik has convinced me that you really must learn to cuddle her on the bed in my absence - just breathe with your mouth when she farts - it's not so bad.
Love to you all (anyone who is reading!) from the sage-infused Kazak Valley.
 

It's after 10 pm - after all these months I finally made it to Gaoyachun village - our first camp of the Gobi March. Our bus driver coming out here from Urumqi had a screaming fit a couple of times because of the terrible state of the road and the fact that we were crossing bridges MUCH too small for buses to go across, but we made it in the end. I'm sitting in a grassy field, surrounding by poplars. In the distance to the north are some beautiful snowy-covered mountains, in all the other directions there are dun-coloured sandy hills. The sky is clear with little cirrus clouds and it is stark and lonely looking. The sun is just setting and some of the local villagers are drumming and blowing some sort of horn while people sit around the campfires, full of nerves to start the course tomorrow. Ironically, we've come all this way, 'in the middle of nowhere' but there's a wedding going on for some of the locals and disco music is thumping away from somewhere in the distance (sound carries...). The world never stops.
Yesterday and today were full of travel to get here (this field). The flight yesterday was awful, and of course, I got a migraine so my first hours in Urumqi were a blur of throwing up and hiding from the light. Luckily I was shuttled into a taxi and was able to get into our hotel room quickly and I woke up feeling fine. I'm just ready for the race to start - hearing everyone's horror stories of IVs, nose bleeds, septic feet, etc. has not helped my confidence level! I'm trying to just ignore what I'm hearing and to do my own race.  I think my biggest mental challenge will actually be to stay organized and lose all my little annoying bits of gear. When we did our weigh-in and equipment check, I felt like the most amateur person there. Some of these people have sleeping bags the size of a bread loaf and do not change their clothes during the race so their packs are less than 7kg. I ended up going back to our hotel room and dumping half of all my breakfasts and all the sugary snacks. I still feel like I'm carrying too much stuff!
Anyway, we received the description of the race this evening - the long day has been extended to 99km which doesn't please anyone. So at this point we're doing around 30+km a day, the 99km day then the last day will be 22km (not nice for the last day!). On the other hand, this landscape is magical.
 
Ran, I miss you - even on day 1.
 
Wish me luck tomorrow!
 

Well, this is my second posting on this blog, which is supposed to be a way for me to let my family and friends know that I'm still alive, still trudging along in the Gobi desert, and a way for them to leave me inspirational messages to keep me going (hint hint). My first posting was a raging success - I think I must be the only other blogger here who actually only got SPAM in return. Oh well - I got a lot of links to online shoe stores. I've never kept a blog before, though I am a prolific noter of unimportant details and events - so I plan to let everyone know just what I see along my path (a beetle! a camel! sand dunes!!) and if I unintentionally come across any deep thoughts that may end up changing my world. I'm not sure that everyone really understands why I am doing this challenge. And, I have to admit, sometimes I don't either but I do know that I need to challenge myself on a regular basis. Actually, I have been interested in Western China for years - at one point there were plans to try to ride a motorcycle along the old Silk Route, but I went to grad school instead. Life is like that - you make these grand plans, but often 'reality' and practicality are thrust upon you and it's hard to justify those adventures to others so sometimes you end up caving in and doing the responsible thing. On the other hand, I've also come to realize how quickly your world can change and all those plans that you've been saving for later can all of a sudden be taken away from you - so what were you saving them for? Why not live them now? Living through the tsunami in Sri Lanka changed me fundamentally - it's not like I was more adventurous before than I am now - if anything I'm carrying around psychological baggage now that I never had before, but I do have a real respect for the fragility and strength of my own body and spirit and how a sunny beautiful day can turn into a nightmare with no warning. I'm not invincible (damn!), but I'm also much stronger than I would have thought. Sometimes, surrounded by buildings, computers, faceless strangers, mind-numbing work - I need to remind and prove that to myself. So, tomorrow I will make my way to Urumqi and on Sunday we will start walking/running - finally! My backpack is intimidatingly heavy though. I have never planned for something like I have planned for this - I'm used to just winging it. I am excited to begin the race (though for Ran and my Dad I'll say again that I will not let my competitive ego take over and hurt myself - at least not on purpose!) - I'm excited to see the wide open spaces, the STARS (!!) and to push myself farther than I ever have before. OK spammers - now you can spam me all you like!

Just a bit more than a month left to go before the Gobi March will begin. My muscles have been tight and sore for months already and the hard part hasn't even begun!  I'm sure I'm in good shape, but my nagging brain wakes me up at night sometimes, worrying if I'll remember to take all the necessary electrolytes and various tablets  at the right time in the right order. 
This is my first experience with such a 'technical' race - I rarely worry about anything besides having good shoes and shorts that don't chafe, but getting together all this gear, figuring out all the weight, calculating the calories I'll need at different times of the day is completely new. I hope it all falls into place once the race starts and I can concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other instead of worrying about whether I'm carrying enough weight in my pack as I train.
I just need to make it through one more month of waking up at 5am to go running in the hills - trying not to twist my ankle or fall on my face as I stumble in the semi-darkness. Next time I train for a race like this, I hope I have the flexibility at work to train in the daylight! Luckily it's getting lighter earlier here in Hong Kong now, so I do see some beautiful sunrises when I feel like I can lift my eyes from the rocky path!