Till the next time... 21-Mar-2011
Atacama Crossing (Chile) 2011
I almost don't want to write this blog entry as I know it will be closing off one of the most fulfilling and all encompassing weeks of my life. I'm very fortunate to have a great life and to have enjoyed some amazing experiences - many with the aid of alcohol!! However, for some reason the Atacama experience has had quite a profound affect on me.
May be because I hadn't done anything quite as extreme as this before and the sense of achievement that came with the successful completion. May be it was the isolation and disconnection from 'real' life. May be the dramatic scenery (which incidentally was just awesome - you couldn't pay someone enough to take you to the sorts of places we ran through) and the feeling, at times, of being pretty insignificant. May be it was, as strange as it may seem, not worrying about cleaning, washing, what to wear, the rush hour, work, mobile phone, social life. Sleeping on a rocky desert floor, shivering in a sleeping back and wearing the same clothes all week. May be a collection of like minded people from 40 nations, with a common purpose, sharing the same experience whilst striving to achieve their own personal goal. Bonding with strangers through ecstasy and pain. No barriers, no preconceptions, no prejudice. Liberating! Was it the big moments - crossing the line after the long stage knowing that it was almost done? Was it the smaller moments - holding hands with the Japanese (and tent companion) competitor, walking and suffering in silence together only hours before the earthquake hit his homeland? Clearly an insignificant moment in relation to what has now happened but at that time (and without knowing what was going to happen) it was a shared moment between 2 strangers from opposite sides of the world.
Or was it, just because it was?!
Atacama crossing 2011 was and will always be extremely special to me for many reasons. There were many reasons why I wanted to compete in something so extreme, some of them very basic in nature and others more complex and very personal to me.
The 'Atacama experience' started for me when I had my entry confirmed in late Summer 09. At that time, I wasn't particularly out of shape, but many years after I'd quit playing competitive sport and enjoyed myself rather too much socially I certainly wasn't close to covering 260KM across a desert in South America. So I started to train and slowly built up my fitness, the distance, speed and mental strength to get me to the start line. I ran many many miles and, with the exception of may be the first couple of months worth, I enjoyed every step. I met some great people a long the way (various races I competed in), everyone 'doing there thing' for whatever reason. Running, in a strange sort of way, has become a spiritual (I don't mean in a religious sense) thing for me. I guess, depending on how well I recover and balancing the rest of my life, it's no longer something I do - it's something I am. I didn't go to Chile to change my life. My life is amazing, I'm the luckiest guy in the world. I did expect, however, a life enhancing experience and I think I got it.
Clearly, the emotion of the week is still at the forefront of my mind and therefore this final blog entry may well be tinged with emotionally enhanced rhetoric. So what, if it's how I feel now, I'll just go with it.
My pre race objectives were:
To give it my all - to cross the finish line having given every ounce of my heart, body and mind
Complete the course in the quickest possible time
Respect the challenge
Respect my fellow competitors
Explore my capacity to tolerate physical and mental pain
To push the boundaries and go beyond my 'known' and perceived capabilities
To have no regrets
To enjoy
To compete
To achieve
Without boring you (if anyone is actually reading this!) with an analysis of each objective and my personal performance, I will provide a general overview of my all round experience and feelings.
I try not to allow fear to drive my decision making in all areas of my life. At times, and for a variety of reasons, it is difficult to adhere to that mantra. There are times when I feel defensive or worried and that has an affect on how I live my life. However, in the main, I try to go with my heart and chase my dreams.
I went to Chile to 'give it my best shot'. Not to allow the fear of failure (injury, exhaustion, not completing, competition, the environment and terrain) to dictate my behaviour and performance. I was happy to tell people I thought I was going to do well. Why not? I trained hard, I felt mentally very tough, I had avoided 'run preventing' injury, I felt secure in who I was/am, I enjoyed the pressure of making commitments to myself and others and I wasn't scared. I was excited.
Run and compete without fear. So I did! I ran with heart from the get go. I achieved something beyond my expectations. I was euphoric. When I became defensive and started to focus on negatives such as fatigue, terrain, heat, speed, pain, I stopped enjoying myself. It was short lived. I knew I'd lost sight of my pre race objectives and started to run with fear so I went back to fearless and ambitious decision making. It was liberating and such an emotional head rush. Addictive!
I had pushed the boundaries and I did go beyond my known and perceived physical and mental capabilities. That in itself was a great sense of achievement.
So, race position didn't matter. Admittedly it started to matter after the first couple of days - my competitive streak had started to emerge when I knew I was in the top 5. But that was ok, that was a good thing if channelled positively. I didn't want it to start to dictate my behaviour and actions and I feel in the main that I managed to avoid that. I just had to enjoy the moment and go with it. As a consequence of being in and around the front runners, I got to know, run with and experience some amazing people.
Anders (winner) was a little too quick (only just!!) for me right from the gun so I didn't really get to know him. I ran a little with Martin Chinchilla on day 1. He was a lovely guy and I was secretly routing (knowing I wasn't good enough to beat him) for him as he was from Chile. I got to know Darren (Canadian - 3rd) really well, one of life's great people. We were evenly matched day 1 and finished tied day 2 and 3. It was great running, chatting, singing, joking around with him........until he upped the ante and moved up the field! Well done D. A very well deserved 3rd place. George (4th) was amusing. I thought he was a marine. Looked like one (Although I don't really know what a marine is supposed to look like), built like one, talked like one and had the head of one. His badge/flag kissing Americaness cracked me up. A tough guy with a knowing glint in his eye. I must say George, your consumption of approx 1.5 litres of apple juice, 1.5 litres of cold coffee, half a pig and a kilo of cheese at 6am on Sunday morning was worth the entry fee in itself. Eric (5th) was high on life. I thought I had energy and enthusiasm - that guy was wired. He was just amazing and an unbelievably strong runner. He'd be dangerous with more desert experience. Other mentions go out to Michele, Matias and my Japanese tent companion Hidechika all of whom I battled with daily.
And to every other competitor. I had admiration and respect for each and every one of you. The longer you were out there, the tougher it was and the more I was in awe of your endeavour. The bravery and courage of some was humbling. I had it easy.
Tom and Chris were both great travel companions, tent mates, competitors and friends. Chris's strength to battle through early pain was galvanising and he did brilliantly to finish in a great position. Tom's performance off the back of a few tough months of injuries and restricted training was a clear demonstration of what one can achieve with determination, a sense of purpose and consistent performance. Congrats to both of you.
The volunteers (hardest job of the lot of us). Thanks so much for your unwavering energy, enthusiasm and support. At times, you made me feel like I was the only one in the field and gave me a boost at every checkpoint. Congrats Emily on your engagement - I'm expecting an invite.
Medical team. Fortunately my only need was the odd painkiller, nail drilled and antibiotics. I appreciated your presence and was assured that if something major did go wrong you'd be there.
RTP crew/camp crew. Thanks for setting up and managing camp every day. The locations were stunning and the lay out contributed to an amazing atmosphere.
Alina & Sam. What can I say that I haven't already to you both. RTP are lucky to have you. You should be very proud of organising and managing a super week. Cheers.
Many thanks to all who sent messages of support and wishes. You all contributed to my experience and helped me a long the way.
Well, I think that pretty much covers it.
Would I do it again? Every day for the rest of my life.
Will I do it again? Life dependant - 'in a heart beat'.
One moment really sticks in my mind, which I'd like to share. At the start of day 2 I stood on the start line (already tired from the previous stage and little sleep) with 5 mins to go before the stage got under way. In one direction the desert unfolded in front of me towards snow capped mountains. The sun rising above the Andes and lighting up the earth. The cold and dark night giving way to the warm (soon to be very hot) and bright sunshine - shards of light chasing across the land. A cloudless, intense blue sky. In the other direction over 100 people getting ready for another desert marathon - the excitement, fear, nervousness, the unknown, the colour, the languages, the flags......the world in front of me, it was electric. A stereo playing Florence and the Machine's 'dog days are over'. The euphoria was overwhelming. I thought I was in heaven - my head hurt. I ran for the next 3 to 4 hours through the Rio Grande and up into the mountains like it didn't matter. I went into CP2 in third place (From what I've been told, my position and time was received at home through RTP's 'breaking news)'. That was my moment. I'll never let go of that feeling.
I gave it my all.
