Westbury Client, John Hasson, Completes the ‘Trans 333’
– a race covering 333 kilometres of the Sahara desert! That’s equivalent to running 8 straight marathons – and YES,that really does say 8!
John Hasson shares this amazing experience with you….
After completing the Marathon des Sables in 2000 and 2001 I had been told about the Trans 333. The Marathon des Sables is a staged race over 6 days, each day you have a set distance to run, and you rest in a camp each night.
However, with the Trans 333 was very different. This race covered 333 kilometres through the Sahara with the clock ticking all the time. This was, of course, complete folly. I was 49 years old, had a desk job as an executive in a bank and was considering a distance equivalent to 8 straight marathons. And all of this was to take place in the part of the Sahara known as the Tenere. The French call it the "rien de rien". Work it out; it's not a great tourist destination.
Doing this kind of thing becomes an obsession, you have to manage your water each day, you have to have enough carbohydrate gel and enough salt, enough glucose, shoes have to be 2 sizes too big and wide enough to allow for the inevitable swelling and spectacular blisters, and you have to avoid getting lost. And you had to manage the solitude – as with only 29 starters, for most of the course you would be on your own day and night.
Because of the small field of runners and the 22 kilometres between each checkpoint the French organisers were worried about people getting lost. Therefore, they provided wrist mounted GPS devices. These devices are great but they do have the limitation that they assume that you can travel from one point to another as the crow flies - and it's not always that simple in the Sahara. However, I was to be grateful for them though.
Although the distances are extreme, the heat is ludicrous (we measured 58 centigrade one day) and the fitness required to keep you going is pretty high; the biggest challenge is the lack of sleep. I covered the distance to checkpoint 4 stopping only briefly at each of the previous checkpoints. That's nearly 90 kilometres through soft sand. By the time I saw the checkpoint I was ready to drop. It was literally a race to get shoes off and to struggle into my sleeping bag before I passed into sleep. At this checkpoint, one of the support people got me a cup of sweet tea and as soon as I had a mouthful I started trembling uncontrollably. If anyone had asked me whether I wanted to quit then I would have said "yes". No-one did however - they never ask that question - you have to say it out loud to them.
I slept for 3 hours and felt much better. I got up at 4.00 in the morning and started moving while it was still cool, well cold actually. Moving at night in the desert is easier because it's cool, but more difficult because of the limited light from the moon and, after these distances, the fatigue and lack of sleep as well as the solitude, start giving you hallucinations.
At one stage I was certain that I could see a picture-book farmhouse and I could hear a
stream running down the side of it. I even heard the ducks quacking. As I said, the lack of sleep is the enemy. One of the soldiers also running had told me to avoid caffeine pills when trying to stay awake – they have a bad hangover when they wear off. He suggested biting the ends of a dried chilli! As painful as this sounds it works, the shock of the heat certainly wakes you up - but even this effect is limited.
After getting to checkpoint 10 in 55 hours (the cut off was 60) I was exhausted. I was lying in 22nd position out of the 29 starters. Unfortunately, 5 people had dropped out behind me so I was now 3rd from last. Off I went in a bit of a daze. "Follow the camel track" they had said at the last checkpoint, "it curves but avoids the stone fields which are ankle-breakers". After 30 minutes of running in baking heat (they baked bread on a stone heated in the sun at the last checkpoint) I realized I had effectively been asleep. I was in said stone field and had no idea whether I had left the track from the right or the left.
The GPS was literally a life-saver. No 4x4 could have got across these rocks and I had about 4 comfortable hours of water and definitely not enough to last more than 24 hours. So there was nothing for it but to trust the GPS and follow the straight line to the next checkpoint. I was careful.
The terrain was brutal but I made steady progress. After a long, long day I could see the checkpoint about 1 kilometre away and that relief made me lose concentration and footing. I stumbled and felt my left knee and my right ankle twist. When I got to the checkpoint my knee was swollen like a rotten melon. I didn't want to take my shoes off for fear that I wouldn't be able to get them back on. I could feel unpleasant moistness and splinter-like pain in there - blisters had definitely burst.
More ibuprofen and I just had to keep moving. The last 20 hours were pretty unpleasant and not very fast. Two more dropouts meant that I was now lying in the last place. Nevertheless, 105 hours after starting the Trans 333 I shuffled gracefully into Agadez with a giant grin on my filthy, unshaven face. I was a stone lighter that when I started and had a far more intimate knowledge of the Sahara than I ever wanted. But I had finished.
Crazy? Most certainly. Now I'm thinking of entering into partnership in a small hotel in Andalucia, but don't tell my accountant - he already thinks I'm nuts.
If you are also considering being this crazy – you can find more information about Trans 333 at www.eventrate.com/rdt/trans333 .
