Over the past couple of months I've been training, testing and learning all about sand, rocks, freeze dried spaghetti bolognese and the resorts at the Dead Sea (the latter because I thought I could use something to look forward to whilst walking 85 km through the cold desert night...). Things went with ups and downs.

I found out that in Holland, hardly anybody knows anything about self supporting ultra marathons and what you need to finish them. I bought a backpack and several weeks later I bought a different one that was much better. I bought a waterproof 32l bag after visiting different shops (nobody seemed to have one that was large enough), asked the guy "Dude this is so heavy! Don't you have a lighter one?!" and he declined. Several weeks later I bought another one that was 150 (!!!) grams lighter. I bought an emergency biffy bag after strolling down sports and outdoor shops for hours and hours. It was large and heavy but it was the only one I could find. And several weeks later... ah well... you know...

I did a three day training on the Dutch beaches, eating only things that I was planning to bring to Jordan. The walking went great but I could barely stomach my Asian beef and veggie meal on the second day. I did a 35 km training with backpack, had no issues at all, only to find out that my foot hurt the next day and kept on being sore for over three (!!!) weeks so I couldn't train at all. I did a two day training with my uncle, including fully loaded backpacks, expedition food and walking only on rough terrain. 50 km the first day with no trouble, but back at home when I sat down for 5 minutes, I found out my right knee was stuck and going nowhere. The next morning it was slightly better and I still managed to walk 45 km but my knee has been growling to me every now and then ever since.

I spend hours on the internet trying to find sport foods and electrolytes without any artificial sweetners, because those make my stomach ache a lot. The latter was the hardest to find. I ended up with a liquid form of electrolytes that is quite heavy compared to tablets but I have no other choice. Thankfully it tastes ok. I worked my ass off in the gym building up a stronger core and shoulders. As a result of this, I am now unable to wear one of my favourite slim fitted black jackets to work because my upper arms are thicker and my shoulders broader. I recently found out my skiing technique improved because of my stronger midsection. And then there's my boyfriend who is occasionally poking my naked body saying "Look! There's another new muscle on you!".

I sometimes find myself apologising to family, friends, collegues or strangers in the supermarket, saying "I'm sorry I'll really try to stop talking about the race now.". Then I keep my mouth shut for exactly 30 seconds before I start all over again explaining the need for sand gaiters and why Expedition Foods should get a Michelin Star for the delicious spaghetti bolognese they make (Honestly, it really is very good. I swear it is going to be my lifeline during the Long March on day 5).

I tested my sleeping pad on a hard wooden floor and found out it really does make the annoying crispy sound of someone reading a news paper, as a friend of my uncle told me who was in last years Marathon Des Sables. Apparently, someone in his tent had the same pad as I bought just a few weeks before and it kept everybody awake. So a fair warning to my fellow competitors: bring earplugs. If we share a tent: I'm bringing the thing anyway :P

So after months of training, testing, preparing, talking, thinking, wishing, hoping and waiting, there are only 7 weeks left. Flights booked. Essential forms filled in. Equipment completed. Dead Sea Resort booked. And now all I can do is eat, sleep, rest, train a bit and stay healthy. And above all: Getting more excited every day.

I. Can't. WAIT!

Dear reader, Years ago, my mother started walking the Nijmegen Marches. A 4 day event with 30, 40 or 50 km a day. She did her first March together with her best friend but unfortunately she died of breast cancer a couple of years later. My mother continued her walking alone and when I was fifteen I asked if I could join her. She agreed and we had the best of time doing 40 km a day. I finished in pure pain, as on my second day I developed a form of "shin splints" as I believe they call it in English. Pain, but I finished and got my medal. The years after my first March I worked and studied hard to become the Optometrist I am today. I decided to skip the March four years in a row because of this but when I graduated in 2010 I joined my mum again and signed up for my second March. On day 2 we met a group of English soldiers and had a bit of a talk and laugh. But to be honest, their pace was a tad slower than ours so after a while we decided to say goodbye and got on with our walk. I left them behind feeling a bit uneasy. Something was nagging me and I couldn't stop thinking about one of the guys that somehow made his way into my brain. The day dragged on with a burning hot sun, as did day three. Nothing special happened except for the fact that mum and I continued putting one foot in front of the other and repeated this process for God knows how often. On the fourth day, somewhere halfway in a little town called "Beers", the route of our 40 km and the one from the militairy got together after the soldiers do a bit of a side track. And there I bumped into the very same soldier whom I met on the second day. Consider the fact that there are 46.000 people walking this March every year and that there are tenthousands of people watching you doing it. So what are the odds that you will meet eachother again among all those people? In the busy street it was only a swift meeting but it was just long enough to take a picture and to end up with his card. He asked me to send him the picture we took with my disposable camera. A lenghty e-mail conversation started in which we talked about life, music and our travels. After a month or so I received an e-mail "the next desert is coming up". How I could send him support while he was running through a desert. My first reaction was "Is