Decisions, Decisions

Do you ever feel like your head is spinning with so much information it's going to spill out like the dam  "washing away the filth of Sauroman" in the Lord of the Rings.  Well, this is currently where I am, which shoes, which sleeping bag, stove or no stove, how many calories to take, which foods, which gaiters, the list goes on.  As a complete newbie to the world of running and especially desert racing I'll be totally honest with you, I have no bloody idea.

Still, half the battle with these things is the right attitide and positive thinking.  So for the last two years I've been like a sponge, eagerly absorbing every snippet of information that anyone more experienced than me was willing to share.  I'm sure on some occassions this has resulted in me looking like an eager young puppy, tail wagging, waiting for an information treat.

However, the result of these sponge like activities has resulted in note pads and note pads filled with advice, which includes, running with sand in your shoes, marching bare foot in a tray of cat litter and cooking dehydrated meals by placing them on top of your tent in the Saharan sun.  I have to stress at this point that these activities are undertaken at your own risk.  I'd suggest the risk of looking like an idiot whilst marching in cat litter is quite high.

So what do I do when I receive conflicting advice from equally respected and experienced sources?  Well, this is my advice to every newbie out there.  Don't panic, don't panic, don't panic!  Accept the fact that you're not really going to know how you cope with desert conditions until you actually arrive in the desert.  Make informed decisions based on advice and the preparation you CAN do and go with your gut instincts.  Some people will thrive on 2000 cals per day, some need more.  Some people will take poles, some won't.  Some people need the comfort of hot food, some don't.  Only you know your own mind and body, listen to them.


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I'm running the MdS to support the British Heart Foundation. Please take a moment to visit my sponsorship page and donate whatever you can afford. Many, many thanks
www.justgiving.com/lauranicholls2013

The Art of Walking

Most runners have a motto of "must go faster". Speed is king. Every time I take part in a race the first question asked of me afterwards is "what was your time" and whilst I'm not an elite or even competitive runner, there is a part of me that always wants to beat my last race time. I even had a dream last night that I shaved 20 minutes off my half marathon pb.

However, due to a niggling injury I decided to be sensible and walk the latest in a long line of races. The Druid challenge is an 84 mile, three day event which starts at Ivinghoe Beacon, along the Ridgeway and finishes at Overton Hill and I have to say, a pretty spectacular route. Rolling hills, autumn leaves and mud, lots and lots of mud.

I thought (maybe stupidly) that walking would be easier than running. But it turns out that walking that sort of distance presents a whole new set of issues. For example, I would normally spend around six hours completing each day, but walking being a much slower form of locomotion, meant I was on my feet for up to nine hours each day and those extra few hours felt like an eternity for my poor feet. This also had the knock on effect of less rest as I started earlier and finished later than everone else.

On the first day we were still walking when darkness fell, a great time to discover my head torch only had one working bulb out of three. After a quick toilet stop behind a bush I couldn't see the others up ahead and I started convincing myself there was an army of axe murders lurking behind every tree. My poor torch barely illuminated the ground in front of me, it certainly didn't have the power to pick out the faces of potentially scary people. Scared silly, I ran to catch up with the others, only managing to scare them as well. Sorry guys.

The other major difference when walking is the extra food I seemed to need. When running, an hour might pass between check points. When walking this might be up to three hours and I was starving by the time I reached each stop. I'd stuff myself with sausage rolls, chocolate, jelly sweets and mars bars. Towards the end of the race I'd even leave each checkpoint with a cup filled with sweets to keep me going along the way. Unfortunately this method of carrying food wasn't fool proof as I found out to my peril. A little after the checkpoint I was faced with a huge muddy puddle and instead of walking around it, I decided in my wisdom to jump over it. Clutching tightly onto my sweet cup I leapt gracefully (cough) into the air and as I came down on the other side my precious fuel went flying, landing in the puddle and sinking into the mud, never to be seen again. Gutted.

Also, for the first time ever, due to the extra time I spent walking and the fact I was pretty wet and muddy for three days solid my poor little tootsies were a bit worse for wear by the time I crossed the finish line. They were so swollen and battered I had to wear my slippers to travel home in as no other shoes would fit. Imagine a limping, slow moving woman making her way through the busy Victoria train station, wearing slippers, carrying a huge 50 litre ruck sack and proudly wearing a medal round her neck and you can imagine the bemused looks I received from wary londoners and endless tourists. Walking through Brighton train station however, no one even glanced my way. I love Brighton.

One of the definite up sides to walking is it's a lot easier to stay in a group and chat along the way. I ended up spending the weekend with some amazing people, Rob, Swampy, Ian and Mark, oh and the bog pigs (I'll leave you to use your imagination but a diet of high carbs resulted in some windy times). This sociable aspect of walking definitely trumps (excuse the pun) all the down sides and I definitely plan to do a lot more walking as part of my training for the toughest footrace on Earth.


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I'm running the MdS to support the British Heart Foundation. Please take a moment to visit my sponsorship page and donate whatever you can afford. Many, many thanks
www.justgiving.com/lauranicholls2013

Sand, Sand and More Sand?

Firstly, apologies for the lack of blogs during December.  Due to an injury my mileage was down to zero, along with my motivation.  So to get me back into the right frame of mind I thought I'd search the internet for pictures of previous races and here's the result.

These two photo's represent for me and I guess many others, what the desert is like.  Rolling dunes going on for miles and miles, orange sands, blue skies and not a tree or bush in sight. In fact, take away the thousand or so nut-case runners and it looks like you'd struggle to find a single living creature.  However....

Camel spiders are not actually spiders but apparently more closely related to the scorpion family.  When the sun comes up in the morning, these lovely creatures scuttle for shade which you can imagine is relatively scarce, unless of course it's MdS week and all of a sudden there are lots of lovely shady tents, if you're prepared to share with 8 smelly runners.

From a bit more research I also found that the more likely terrain is going to be a rocky, uneven surface which is going to make it very difficult to run without twisting an ankle, tripping or stubbing a toe. In fact smooth rolling dunes only make up about 20% of the race surface, which in some ways is good, as running in sand goes a bit like this, two steps up, one slide down, two steps up, one slide down, one step up, one slide down, one lie down, repeat.

Just to make this extreme endurance race a little more difficult the race organisers quite often add a little extra something to make sure competitors sample all the delights of the desert.  Mountains (jebels) often feature along the course.  It has been reported that in 2013 we will climb three jebels in one day.  This makes me tired just thinking about it, I guess I better start working off all that Christmas excess.

Obviously, the result of all this running on such uneven ground is some very sore feet.  The heat alone makes most peoples feet swell up by two sizes.  There's not much I can say about these pictures except, ouch!

Three months to go until the start of the race and I've never felt so excited, nervous, hopeful, doubtful, enthusiastic, apprehensive, fired up and terrified, all at the same time.


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I'm running the MdS to support the British Heart Foundation. Please take a moment to visit my sponsorship page and donate whatever you can afford. Many, many thanks
www.justgiving.com/lauranicholls2013

Shoes Are A Girl's Best Friend

All you guys out there have probably spent many an hour being dragged around the shops while your lovely other half is tottering around the shoe department with the latest ankle breaker on her foot.  "What do you think" she says, "Lovely dear" you reply for the hundredth time.  Sound familiar?

Well, I can guarantee that in the case of MdS runners, this scene will be repeated up and down the country with only a few minor details changed.  For example, instead of tottering, we'll be pounding a treadmill in full view of bemused shoppers passing by.  Instead of the latest ankle breaker, we'll have the latest lightweight, off road, super cushioned, bright green trainers strapped to our feet.  And instead of asking "what do you think" runners will ask "do I over pronate in these?"

As you can imagine, shoe choice is a constant source of debate for MdS competitors.  The wrong shoe can make the difference between completing the desert race and getting so many blisters you're forced to retire.  Read any forum on desert racing and someone will ask, "which shoes are best" and of course, there is no right answer.  Every foot, stride and running style is different for every individual.  However, I recently attempted to make the decision for myself and headed into town for a day of shoe shopping.

I went to 'Runners Need' in Brighton and I don't think the shop manager Darren, really knew what to make of me as I rambled on about desert racing and buying shoes up to two sizes too big (the heat in the Sahara will make my feet swell up, a lot).  I wasn't really sure of what I wanted and informed him that the shoes needed to be light but very cushioned, breathable but made of a material that wouldn't let sand in easily.  I gave him an impossible wishlist, everything I wanted from the shoe contradicted the previous thing I had said I wanted.  Slightly bemused he went off and brought out shoe after shoe in many, many sizes.  After an hour of this I still couldn't decide, so he ordered even more shoes in various sizes so I could try them on the following week.

A couple of days later I thought of yet another model I wanted to try out, a quick phone call to Darren, who was fast becoming my new best friend, and those were on order too.  The following weekend I excitedly headed to the shop to try on the new delivery of trainers.  Yet another hour past by while I sprinted on the treadmill in various luminous coloured shoes, the very patient Darren looking on and puzzled shoppers passing by.

So after all this, which pair did I buy?

That's right, the first pair I had tried on.


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I'm running the MdS to support the British Heart Foundation. Please take a moment to visit my sponsorship page and donate whatever you can afford. Many, many thanks
www.justgiving.com/lauranicholls2013

Racing Rory Coleman

Bearing in mind what actually happened during my first ever marathon, a more appropriate title might be 'Stalking Rory Coleman' but let me explain...

Now for those of you who don't know, Rory Coleman is a legand in the ultra running world. Every conference or talk he gives, the room is packed out, standing room only. I went to the MdS expo a few weeks ago, rushed to get into his seminar and was glad I did as many people were turned away. It is through his advice that I managed to get my pack weight down from 10kg to 7.5kg (on paper at least).

Standing at the start line of the Beachy Head Marathon and who should I spot in the crowd a few rows in front of me, but the legend himself. The start gun went off, the crowd surged forward and I was surprised to find I was keeping pace with him. I'm sure Rory wasn't actually racing but using the event as a long slow training run, something which all runners do, but I was chuffed none the less and decided to try and keep up. Of course Rory had no clue that some weird woman was fixated on him a few metres behind and he certainly didn't know he was part of a fantasy race which only existed in said woman's mind.

For the first few miles I was ok and keeping pace quite well until we got to the top of the first big hill and the head wind was immense. I was being blown backwards and just not strong enough to keep up, dissapointed I watched as Rory dissapeared into the crowds. However, after every uphill, is a downhill. This was my chance. I picked up speed and before I reached the bottom I could see him again. This pattern continued for about 8 miles and I was feeling very proud of myself.

Unfortunately, a few miles further and an old injury started flaring up and despite chewing through nurofen like they were smarties, I was forced to walk. Gutted. Still, I continued at a slower pace and got through the rest of the Beachy Head Marathon which has been dubbed one of the toughest marathons in the UK. Most importantly, I enjoyed every minute of my first ever marathon. I will be back next year injury free, a lot more experienced and maybe, just maybe, I'll keep pace with Rory Coleman.


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I'm running the MdS to support the British Heart Foundation. Please take a moment to visit my sponsorship page and donate whatever you can afford. Many, many thanks
www.justgiving.com/lauranicholls2013

Toads, Trails and Torture

Spectacular views of the Chiltern Hills surround me, but I'm too nervous to appreciate the beauty. Up ahead are about 70 people all looking prepared and like they've been here a hundred times before. My stomach is doing somersaults over and over again, I haven't been able to eat any breakfast and I'm running on adrenaline alone. Simple decisions seem complex, do I want water or not? I've drunk so much already, I need the loo for the hundredth time in the last ten minutes. I'm making half hearted attempts to warm up and look like I belong, the group of people start to shuffle closer together, I shuffle too, 3....2....1....GO!!!

It was October 2011 and I was running in my first ever race, a 5km single track trail run and 35 minutes later I finished with a feeling of complete elation.  I'd done it, I'd competed and finished and what's more, I wasn't last.  I was hooked.

February 2012 and I was running in my first half marathon along Brighton and Hove seafront. This was not only the longest, but it was also the biggest race I'd ever been in, thousands of runners and even more spectators. About eight miles into the race whilst running past Brighton Pier I was grateful and humbled by the huge crowds that had gathered. The energy that radiated from them was immense as they cheered, clapped and shouted messages of support. It was a real boost, complete strangers wanting me to do well and I was loving every second.

A few miles further and I was seriously hungry, my stomach was grumbling so loudly I was convinced it could be heard above the noise of the crowds. I'd been running for nearly two hours and hadn't really considered the fact that I should have taken gels or energy drinks with me. Packets of high energy foods littered the ground only serving to remind me of how inexperienced I was (and that runners are a messy lot). At this point where should the route take me, but past a pub who were obviously cooking up an amazing roast lunch for some spectators. Never mind running for two hours, the smell of those roast potatoes was torture.  This was also the turning point in the race, with an empty stomach I had no energy left, I had three miles left to run and I was slowing fast. By the time I stumbled across the finish line I was a mess, I'd given everything I had to the race, I was shivering, cold and tearful but I'd completed my first ever half marathon. Except it wasn't a half marathon after all, the organisers had messed up and we actually ran an extra 0.3 of a mile. Evil bastards.

September 2012 and I was at a chemistry conference. During a break my phone beeped at the arrival of a text message. A slave to my phone, I dutifully checked the message, only to respond by shouting "oh my god" at the top of my voice and no doubt spoiling everyone's tea break. As I looked up, I realised my reaction hadn't gone unnoticed and people were now looking in my direction with a mixture of confusion and amusement on their faces. The text was from my sister, Emma, she had entered me into a 90 mile ultra marathon called the Toad Challenge.  It was in two weeks time.

The Toad was a three day event along the Thames path starting in Oxford and finishing 92 miles later at Walton-on-Thames. As I waited for the gun to go off I felt sick with nerves. I had no idea if I could run 30 miles or if my body would recover enough overnight in order to run another 30 miles the next day, and the next. I was pleasantly surprised though, the human body is amazing and not only did I recover by each morning but I felt remarkably good at each start line. I also found that I ran stronger for longer each day which surprised me, but I wasn't going to question it, the quicker I finished, the quicker I could put my feet up with a nice cold can of coke. Where am I going to get one of those in the desert?

On the second night, my dad came to visit me. I introduced him to a few people and invariably Dad mentioned that I was running the Marathon des Sables, a subject which has caused more than a few grey hairs to appear on his head. Unfortunately Dad was in a room with 70 other people who shared my ambitions, about 50 of which would be running across the desert with me. He wasn't going to win any arguments here. Sorry Dad.

The whole weekend was a fantastic experience. I spent three days in the company of some amazing people, some elite athletes and some like me, who were just glad to finish. Rob, Joey, Malcolm and Hamish all deserve a mention. Rob and Malcolm especially for picking me up when I was struggling and keeping me entertained with lots of stories along the way. At every checkpoint I was met by Extreme Energy staff and volunteers who always had lots of smiles, cheers and oodles of positivity.

The running world really is an amazing place to be.


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I'm running the MdS to support the British Heart Foundation. Please take a moment to visit my sponsorship page and donate whatever you can afford. Many, many thanks
www.justgiving.com/lauranicholls2013

Food Glorious Food!

Most people seem to consider the average MdS competitor to be borderline insane, and they're probably right. I mean, running 156 miles in 50 degree heat with scorpions sharing your sleeping bag is hardly normal. However, believe it or not there are a hardcore few who would take it to the next level by sacrificing a luxury or two in order to run faster. Toothbrush, unnecessary; medical kit, ditched; food, who needs food? The MdS organisers therefore set a minimum pack weight of 6.5kg and to reach this minimum without starving to death, some imagination must be used. For example, I plan on unrolling a toilet roll in order to remove the cardboard interior. I will be taking a pair of scissors to almost everything, removing labels from clothes and any excess straps or tags will be butchered. Paracetamol will be popped out of its heavy plastic and foil wrappings and transported in light plastic bags and my toothbrush will have its handle chopped off. However, despite all these tricks, the majority of the weight in everyones pack will be down to food. So how do you ensure one weeks worth of breakfast, lunch and dinner weighs no more than 3kg? This is where the fun starts!

Most people spend their lives counting calories, watching what they eat and skipping on dessert because they still feel guilt over the last indulgence. Type food into your search engine and it won't be long before you're faced with the latest fat busting tips. However, type in calorie dense food and see what you get. Burgers, chocolate, nuts and cheese, yum yum! And best of all, I have to test all this food out before I even get to the desert, happy days.

Did you know, one of the most calorie dense foods are brazil nuts, which also happen to be my favourite. Lucky me. I will be pricking holes in crisp packets, squashing out all the air and in the process creating a yummy crisp dust and then taping up the holes. Breakfast will consist of muesli and powdered milk followed by chocolate pop tarts. If all that lovely gooey chocolate can survive a toaster, it can survive the Saharan heat. Jelly babies are also on the menu and best of all, so is salt. Now this may seem weird, but those of you who've seen me eat fish and chips will know, a friend once described my delicious meal as a Christmas snow scene. So out with the plain peanuts and pistachios and in with the salty goodness. My desert menu really is all my favourites rolled into a week of food glorious food!


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I'm running the MdS to support the British Heart Foundation. Please take a moment to visit my sponsorship page and donate whatever you can afford. Many, many thanks
www.justgiving.com/lauranicholls2013