Me and my big mouth! Why can’t I just keep my mouth shut and be normal? It’s 9.45 on the morning of 14 July 2008. I am freaking out badly but putting on a brave face. In fifteen minutes, the starter’s gun will go off. Once I hear that gun, I know I won’t be sleeping for a few days but that’s the least of my worries. It will also mean the start of one of the hardest races on earth — the Badwater Ultramarathon. Why the hell did I ever tell anyone that I wanted to do this?
Yep, that’s Badwater as in Badwater, Death Valley. It’s the lowest part of the United States at 85 metres below sea level. It is also one of the hottest places in the world with temperatures recorded as high as 56.7°C. I just hope that Death Valley doesn’t live up to its name over the next few days!
I’m standing at the start line and it’s about 50°C. Ahead of me lies 217 kilometres of one of the most demanding and extreme running races in the world. From where I stand now, I’ve got to walk, run, dance and drag myself through places with welcoming names like Furnace Creek, Devil’s Cornfield and Lone Pine. But that’s not the worst of it, once I’ve made it through the desert, there’s a couple of mountain passes to climb culminating with making my way up 2500 metres to the slopes of Mount Whitney, the highest point in the mainland United States.
It’s a race I’ve wanted to tackle for about eight years but until now I haven’t had the money or the experience. I’ve been ultra-running for thirteen years and I’ve covered more than 50,000 kilometres in races and training.
I’ve run in the Sahara, Libyan and Arabian deserts but I’m still not sure that will be enough to prepare me for what is to come. The heat here easily outdoes anything I’ve experienced before and here I am alongside some of my absolute heroes — Dean Karnazes and David Goggins. I’m completely star struck and can’t believe that I’m lining up next to them. OK, so rookies like me would normally start in the 6 am bunch running through the valley in the coolest part of the day but I’ve got a film crew with me so I’ve been lined up to start at 10 am with the elite runners. I hope like hell I’m ready.
How am I going to do this? I’ve got 60 hours to cover those 217 gruelling kilometres. But I can’t think of the days ahead in that way. I’ve got to focus on moving as little as possible, on reserving my energy, taking one step at a time then one kilometre at a time. I can’t begin to think about the whole 217 kilometres ahead of me — that would just blow my mind.
It’s just minutes to the start now. I’ve eaten and drunk so much to build my reserves that I feel bloated. I just want to get going. Chris Kostman, the race director, gives us all a wee pep talk. The American anthem plays and the countdown begins. Three . . . two . . . one. The gun goes off.
I’ve visualised this moment over and over again in the past couple of years. Now that I’m here, it’s completely surreal. I can’t quite believe that I’m really here. Me and my big bloody mouth!