The Stage 3 marathon had done a number on us. By the time Day 4 rolled around, the drop out rate had already equaled the total drop out rate in past years’ races. And the distance was finally taking its toll – either you couldn’t keep any food down or you simply burned a lot of calories; whichever path you took you would have acquired a frighteningly gaunt look (Edward …

On Day 3, we rose to the havoc wreaked by a night-long sand storm. Everything in the tent – gear, clothes, bottles – was blanketed in dusty yellow. Simply sitting up in my sleeping bag caused a sheet of sand to cascade down my face. I spat sand from my mouth and tried my best to shake it out of my ears and hair – but it was mostly futile …