The journey is the destination ... a stupid saying, actually. The goal is still the goal. But sometimes unattainable, with me on the 25th Marathon des Sables. A misstep, a failure stress, pain in the Achilles tendon, then in the calf and the knee. I know this kind, it is typical of my weaker leg to the back story. There is a tension that can not solve, not wegdehnen, not sleeping, not even the powerful medicines of DocTrotter helped in the tent, so I will give a decision to turn back. However, I am grateful für die Erfahrungen. Ich durfte teilnehmen, viel mehr hätte mich geärgert, wenn ich kurz vorher ausgefallen und reiseunfähig gewesen wäre (wie einige Teilnehmer aus der Schweiz). So fasse ich zusammen, wenn auch ohne Anspruch auf Vollständigkeit:
Erster Eindruck: Eine perfekte Organisation. Beeindruckend, was Patrick Bauer und sein Team inmitten der Wüste auf die Beine stellen. Alle sind freundlich und hilfsbereit, zu jeder Tages- und Nachtzeit, in der Unruhe des Biwakauf- und abbaus, gegenüber missmutigen, überreizten Teilnehmern. Da steckt viel Erfahrung, Können und guter Wille drin - Bravo!
Second impression: seclusion? Not likely. The media are everywhere - there are even occasional cell phone reception. The world is linked to the MDS and the MDS with the world - constantly updated and online. Wearing clothes or not flashy logos, tattoos or country flags, and resist making lamentations - then there is no press team interested in you. Get involved, however loudly (for the fight against leukemia, contre la Mucoviscidose, ...), screaming in pain and let you pierce the Doc-tent bloody blisters, then you have the lens and microphone right in the face.
Third impression: an enormous physical and mental challenge. Constantly changing and therefore difficult terrain, great heat and oppressive humidity, endless space, the weight on his shoulders - all get here to feel boundaries, move or acknowledge. At what price and with what drug to be decided by each alone, but will save neither sorrow, nor to substances. Accordingly, the culture of conversation: we talk to each other occasionally, and often at cross purposes. This is because of the extreme runner has as a listener just the other extreme runner (John Doe Gibts joggers out there not). So will everyone suffered to get rid of at once cleaned and storytelling in his own soul.
Fourth impression: The desert is desolate over long distances. The course runs mostly through lunar landscape. Areas such as the calendar page, are rare; deceive the website photos, sometimes (as jazzed digital), the impressive Merzouga dunes are first on the final leg, on which most do not have enough, and finally home. Benefit only a few runners (all of marchers) direct their attention away from the path or the heel of the front's gone, the environment, to a bush on the ridge beyond. The focus is rather the shortest path section, the racing line through the sand, the next checkpoint. Meantime and charts, numbers, measures are in some higher in price than the senses.
Fifth impression: the MdS is a bit absurd theater. Many of prosperity can be spoiled for a lot of money in air-conditioned cars drive into the desert to obtain a simple tent camp. In the background guarantees a smooth-functioning OK for security and infrastructure. The equipment is checked one last time, an investment banker throws his outrageously expensive new mattress in the trash because he finds it useless. Then started walking, fitted with high-tech food and clothing, mp3 in the ear, Solar Charger and mobile. It is recommended not to stop, because they surround and steal goods from the back of the backpack; Begging children along the way one passes quickly. What they must think of us?
Further impression: Mild temperatures at night, but the overwhelming lack deep black with infinite sea of stars. Hazy skies in the afternoon, almost low stratus, which does not allow images with a light blue background (I miss the equipment). Silence. And then the roar of the helicopter. Gläsernes clash of black stones, when I trip over it. Bone-dry soil of a former Sees, durchzogen von feinen Rissen. Mitten in der flirrenden Hitze ein Fluss mit klarem Wasser. Blühende Pflanzen, die aus dem staubtrockenen Grund wachsen. Versteinerungen. Sand, so fein wie Puderzucker: ocker, grau, schwärzlich, rotbraun. Ziegen und ein Hirtenjunge mitten in der Leere. Kamele und Esel. Ein Schmetterling! Trockenes Holz und würziger Duft von den verschiedenen Lagerfeuern. Herrlicher Sultan-Tee am Ende jeder Etappe.
«Wer in die Wüste geht, kehrt anders aus ihr zurück.» Auch das gilt für jeden in unterschiedlichem Masse, und «anders» heisst nicht unbedingt «erfüllter». Ich sah müde Gesichter, voller Zufriedenheit und Stolz. Ich hörte die Planung bereits neuer Laufabenteuer. Aber auch Sinnfragen, Ungewissheit, Jammer nach vollbrachter Tat. Ein Läufer, auf die Frage nach dem Warum der Wiederholung angesprochen: der Alltag sei derart massgeschneidert und vom Prinzip «time is money» dominiert; dies hier sei das pure Opposite. Time will be relatively empty and you meet and the simple life with strangers in a tent. Obvious - but I wondered: is not everyday a desert, if he runs such a monotonous and others? Does that make everyday life makes sense if one has no balance in it, no joy and serenity place, but needed the ultra-year special event to make it endure? But as already said, everyone is looking out his answers here, everybody will find others, and that accounts for the unique.
is the end I stick a saying: "No road is long with a friend by your side." While there is no road leading to the El Jebel Otfal, but 25% Steigungskraxlerei, but thanks for François, that you have him walking with me. That gave me courage and confidence at the end of my rope. And, thank you Sven, Chris, Jürg, Michael, Francis and Rolf, for the unique camaraderie in the tent - I will give you all the time, the whole experience, never forget, but every now and then miss. And write to me, therefore, on the internal flag: recuperate and test runs in 2011, and in the back in the sandbox 2012th
