Today felt like a shift from the body to the mind and spirit. We cast off in a cool mist that was blowing in from the coast, and there was very little visibility. The weather felt perfect for an easy start. But we were cast out onto soft, brown sand and the footing was soft at the beginning which takes a lot more energy to run on. We passed by the edges of large dunes looming in the mist and eventually came out into the open for the majority of the day. That open became infinite and expansive. There were points where I looked around me in 360° and did not see anything but sand and small pebbles and rocks. To every horizon. There isn't anything to see, it's just sand to every far distance line separating the sky from earth.

Hello from the Namib, I am in camp after a long day on stage 1.

I got into Windhoek Namibia after 2 days in transit from Nashville, it was a scramble getting out. My bag missed the connection in ATL and I spent the next two days tracking it. The RTP team me tranport it 4 hours from Windhoek to the final destination, I got it the morning we were departing for the desert. A bit of harried unpacking and packing my race kit, repackaging all the meals into ziplock bags, and that sort of thing. Stressful but i was grateful to get it. Swakopmund felt like a German version of a wild west movie scene. Energetic, dusty, commerce. We passed a lot of uranium mines and anthills on the savannah, it was an odd mix. The spaces are wide, open, misty because of the breeze blowing in from the Atlantic.

We had the usual orientation then a couple of hours to get lunch, a to go pizza for dinner in camp 1, and i worked til the last second because of urgencies with my work. Then hustled in full race gear and pack and toting my tent in hand the 6 blocks to the main hotel, where the busses wer boading. JIT LOL.

A 1.5 hour bus ride along the beach. It‘s curious how the desert roles right into the ocean here. The coast has virtually no vegetation. It’s bit forbidding with plain brown sand, but beautiful in its way. 

We turned inland then left the bus transfer into Land Cruisers for the final approach to camp in the sand dunes of the desert. Our driver was very confident in his land cruiser skills and sped forward sliding and bumping through the sand formations. Then we arrived to camp.

A group of nomadic people in traditional dress greeted us with clapping, singing and dancing, very impressive and interesting. 

I set up my tent, ate my pizza, taped my feet and all of the other logistics of arriving, then was in bed by 7 pm. Sundown is 630 here. I slept well enough, in 2 hour segments, til 6 am. Up to dress, breakfast, breaking down the tent and packing everthing. I alllowed 2 hours and per usual it took the entire time to execute and get to the starting line.

As soon as we launched i realized i was going to have take it easy this race. i had surgery on my left knee in february and had the third (and final) trimming of my knee cartilage, and three biodegradable nails put in my femur (sort of lke rebar, to prevent collapse). When i asked my orthopod if i coudl still run a 250k in August he asked me ”have you considered 10ks?“. And he is not unfamiliar with putting sports participants back together, as he is the orthopod for the NFL Titans. I did my best to rehab it with PT, needling, AlterG treadmill, aquajogging, weight training etc, but it has continued to be uncomfortable and as a consequence i was unable to train properly. The longest run i was able to do was 15 miles with a pack. It was not ideal. But i was trying to respect my limitations. For good measure, i got a stress fracture in my right foot about a month ago, and broke a toe in my left foot in the dark of a new bedroom i moved into and with which i was unfamiliar. Not to mention my marriage of 40 years ended unexpectedly when my partner decided to do something different, with the attendant disruption that came with that. Yikes! Not ideal for a strong race start. But, for everyone here, its always something. There is always a good reason not to run, but we all showed up. There are many stories of overcoming adversity here, its inspiring to be here, and I‘m glad to be here.

Today was harder than I expected. We started from camp in salt flats, then along the beach, a dead rotting sea lion washed up, then turned inland the land barriers around enormous salt pans of a salt farm. The sections of evaporating water sometimes were the size of a great lake. The water was pink from algae and bacteria, and the source of pink the flamingoes that occasionally flew overhead. The initial pools smelled briny and sort of pleasant, but some of the later ones more fetid, like sewage in the hot sun cooking. Eventually we spent the bulk of the hot day in rolling sand dunes with dead scrubby brush, thornbushes, a lot of loose footing. no breeze. just hot and full on UV exposure, there was not a cloud n the sky all day. Lots of bleached bones in the sand,mementoes, memento mori of a sort, and inspiration to keep moving. 

Some small version of everything bad happened today, my heavy pack left my neck and shoulders really sore and tired, lots of little wet clothes frictions arose, hot spots on my feet (I have a couple of really large blisters now even though I taped those very spots carefully!), and i got really hunggry an bonky feeling even though i ate ~ 1000 cal of bars and gels, so i had to stop and pull out extra food. i got pretty dry in the long middle section and youran out of water and ws playingcatchup all day on that. Overall I would say it was all normal stuff, but i slowed down greatly the backhalf. I‘m just shifting my midset to 1) enjoying the desert. 2) finishing 1 more day, 3) Lord willing get to the end of the race. I’m curious to see what happens! Finsihing the whole race even as the last person make take every bit of grit I have. Of course, that‘s part of the attraction. 

Thanks for getting to the bottom of this. Cheers and love, Jim