Oui5: The Gawds Must be Kalahari 2014

OK, as promised, here is my pre-Kalahari farewell letter, er, I mean pre-race training and expectation wrap-up.

I dislocated my left knee cap on Indian Republic Day – 26 January 2014 (it wasn’t a patriotic wound or anything, just an easy way to remember the exact date), and spent the next few months in and out of doctors’ offices, hospitals, clinics etc. I followed pretty closely the arc of denial, anger, bargaining, betrayal and finally acceptance.

It was my first time as an adult getting injured out of the blue like that, and I really felt betrayed by my body, which has uncomplainingly put up with my nonsense for decades (and to whom I owe an apology for the lifestyle choices made in my 20s!) I signed up for the Kalahari race to use it as an focused tool to rehab my knee (more accurately, the muscles above and below, which in the span of 2 months of so from the injury, were wasting away in a way visible to the naked eye). The race director agreed to a medical out if I wanted to use it.

Fast forward to October, and the training has been long, tedious, at times fun (mostly all the experimentation with food, gear etc.), and on balance reinstated my faith in our miraculous bodies, and their ability to self-heal.

My pack will weigh about 12kg on day 1 (most of it edible calories, clocking in at roughly 19,000 for the week), and the ‘wet weight’ (i.e. with water) is about 13.5 kg. By way of context, the 'snakes' (as the elite runners are known) generally have sub-8kg packs. My knee has borne this with little complaint thus far, and I declare this phase of the race a success, even before getting on the plane to Jo’burg.

Interestingly, one of the competitors is a sports psychologist, and is doing a field study on ‘self-leadership and flow experience under extreme conditions’ (way to make something super cool sound kinda boring). Anyway, I signed up to be a guinea pig, which means filling out questionnaires when you stagger in to finisher camp (hopefully) every day even before you take your pack off – I must remind myself not to sound too whiney! Each participant apparently gets a complete ‘flow’ profile (i.e. the sorts of conditions under which I, in particular, enter that trance-like state in which time passes quickly and your creative powers are almost fully engaged), which I am quite interested to see. Physical stress, well managed, is a known trigger of ‘flow’.

One of the aspects I am finding stressful, logistically, is that the rules explicitly state that if you didn't carry it in, you can't beg/borrow/steal it. This concept is easy for big items (sleeping bag), but not so easy for the many many small things which could become crucial in the kaleidoscope of events - e.g. ibuprofen, toilet paper, spork. Similarly, you can't molest the widllife (some &&&#-face brought back an ostrich egg to finisher's camp last year)!

I also hope I don't get manhandled at customs, traveling as I am with many ziplock bags of whitish powder, and a less-than-100%-plausible excuse therefor.

Now, on to the excruciatingly intimate over-sharing part of the post where I publicly declare intentions and expectations (see previous post on the Hiding Hand Principle):

What does success look like: To complete the course without injury in under 50 hours, while experiencing the highs and (inevitable) lows as mindfully as possible.
Mantra: Degree by degree, with ferocity. (Unapologetically stolen from Jeff Bezos’ space exploration company, which I read about in the ‘Everything Store’ – pretty crappy book, btw, don’t bother, altogether too worshipful of Bezos and his ‘genius’ etc.)

Top 3 reasons runners DNF (i.e. DO/DID NOT FINISH):

· Blisters/poor foot care
· Hydration fail
· Pace fail

I am writing these down so as to make myself as mindfully self-aware as possible.

Finally, the race director has listed me as ‘Kenyan’ on the participant list. So no pressure to be flying the old Red, Black and Green at an international foot race!

How to reach me while in the Kalahari:

While I am stumbling about in the desert (high of 41 degrees C today!), sucking cacti for sustenance and dodging scorpions, you can send encouraging (if you want to send creative criticism about say, my total inability to repair household objects, or use hair gel properly, please wait for my return) messages to:

runners@kaem.co.za

Please make sure to address them to AKI HUSSAIN, as it is a generic email for ALL runners.

The emails will be printed at the crew camp, and I will receive them the following day. There will always be a day’s delay in receiving emails.

There will also be a computer at the finish camps for me to send emails but because of the lack of comms, these emails will only be sent once the crew get back to the crew camp at the end of the day.

You can also follow the action from the KAEM (Kalahari Augrabies Extreme Marathon) Facebook page or you can visit their website (www.kaem.co.za) and follow the links for photos, articles and results from there. The website will only be updated once the crew are back in crew camp but the race director will update as much as possible on Facebook during the day.

Until my return, then, please think of me every time you have a meal with your family, use a clean toilet, drink a just-brewed double Americano (with a splash of skim milk), or discover an unread New Yorker under the coffee table.

Your tremulous desert rat,

Akidovic

Race Profile and Photos follow

Day 1 – 25 KM

CP means “check point” (where water is, and where you are subjected to ‘is he still lucid?’ small talk by the at-the-ready medevac squad.) Each CP is roughly 8-12km from the next.

Day 2 – 35 km

Day 3 – 40 km - Elevation gain/loss 508m /773m!

Day 4 – 70 km - Elevation gain / loss 631m - 620m – This is a day/night section, where you complete under moonlight (ok, and a miner’s light), which is definitely going to induce some ‘Flow’ (especially when you get lost between CPs, which most people do, btw)!

Day 5 – REST

Day 6 – 45 km

Day 7 – 21 km