“Only those who risk going too far can possibly find out how far they can go.”— T.S. Eliot

3/24/2022 – Marrakesh, Morocco

I realize this is quite long but ultimately very therapeutic for me, so apologies for the length, but it was for a good cause.

For the first time in my life I have very real concerns about my ability to complete a race before it begins. I have an agreement with myself that my race performance will inform the scope of activities that I take on going forward. So in short, my experience in this race has huge implications for my future.

Parkinson’s has robbed me from my ability to sleep and it’s rare for me to dream or at least be aware of my dreams.  So, it takes a moment for me to realize the Man singing so intensely, is not in the room or apartment with me, but actually in the Mosque next-door to my apartment.

This hauntingly beautiful song is Adhan, a call to prayer for everyone, and goes on for another 9 minutes, serving as a wake up call for me.   I need to get my shit together, It’s 6 AM and Soufian is picking me up in an hour to drive through the Atlas mountains to Errachidia, the pick-up point of the Marathon Des Sables.  

Soufiane sends me a note on WhatsApp that he has arrived and we are on our way.  I am thankful that I was able to see some of Casablanca and Marrakesh the day before and now the grand beauty of the snow capped Atlas mountains elicit a remarkable environmental tension, as we make our way to the hottest desert on earth, the Sahara.

Peering through the front windshield from the back of the SUV, I can see a massive storm to the left. As we get closer it’s clear, this is a massive sand storm. I had prepared special gear to endure a sandstorm, but viewed the probability of encountering one as fairly low, however after seeing this, I was motivated to do further research, to ensure I knew how to navigate through one, should we see one in person, I will be really prepared.

I checked into the hotel and started walking to my room. I immediately ran into three people in the hallway, one of whom shouted my name and invited me to dinner with their crew, he introduced himself as Andres and me to everyone else, he said he had read some articles on me. That great character turned out to be one of my tent mates, which was awesome.

We had an uneventful dinner and went to bed early to prepare for the first official day of the race. The sun was already shining brightly at 8:30 AM as we loaded our suitcases into the belly of the bus, in anticipation of heading to the race start. I sat next to Paul Templer, a gentleman doing this for his charity. Paul whose arm had been tragically destroyed by a hippopotamus years before. Paul and I would cross paths many times over the next few days and I enjoyed getting to know him.

Our bus ride was surprisingly interrupted by a stop at the airport. We had to unload our bags and queue up for a documentation review. This was not expected and resulted in most of the American team, myself included, taking a rapid antigen test, in order to re-board the bus. This was concerning, because we all thought we had cleared all the hurdles, we thought we were in the race. Fortunately, most of us tested negative and we boarded yet another bus, finally headed off to the Bivouac.

Taking us to the edge of cellular coverage, our arrival at the Bivouac was without incident. I then met our tent-mates and we went right to work clearing the big rocks from the tent floor, before aligning the 4 spots that would be where we would attempt to sleep for the remainder of the race.

We had half a day of personal time, so I bopped around the Bivouac and met a lot of amazing people and even some animals. It is important to note that the primary reason that I am doing this race is to raise awareness for Parkinson’s disease, while highlighting the impact exercises has in slowing disease progression and raise money for research towards a cure. So my charity UnCorked Adventures will be giving 100% of all the donations for this event to the Michael J Fox foundation for Parkinson’s research.

Dinner was provided and concluded with a bonfire and tribal dancing

My tent-mates and I left the fire scene, to make a few modifications to block the south wind from our tent, and settled down to try and sleep for the night. My gear was comfortable, yet I was only able to sleep a few hours as the wind shifted from the north and started blowing directly on us. This is some kind of private hell, too close together to move without disturbing everyone, so I cocooned into my sleeping bag and tried to relax my breathing. The sun started peeking out behind the mountains when I finally accepted the fact that I was not going to get any sleep tonight.

On the plus side, my nighttime productivity was a positive, as I was the fifth person in line at the 8:30 AM gear check. I sailed through the process from bag weight, nutrition and EKG review. I turned in the remainder of my belongings and by 9 AM, I was now officially approved for the race and my whole world was now in my backpack.

I spent the day talking with fellow competitors and reconfiguring my bag on the verge of obsession, multiple times, to optimize everything for the race tomorrow. A fairly simple dinner with a lot of bread, then we retired to the tent quite early to try and get a good nights sleep before start of the race tomorrow. Unfortunately even with the better sleeping conditions I was unable to sleep one minute.

@ 6:15 AM as expected, they have ripped the tents down, creating the bizarre landscape below:

Despite my lack of sleep, I feel very strong and very excited to start the race. Segment one is 30.3 km or approximately 19 miles, and must be completed in under 10 hours. It covers a variety of different terrains, a great primer for the entire event.

I intentionally started this segment slow and controlled, for the first 13 km to checkpoint one (CP1) to see how the weather and the landscape would affect me. My plan overall was to stay very controlled and slow for the first three days, ensuring that I would be strong for long 86 km on day four. But, after CP1 I increased my cadence a bit I was feeling so strong. I executed perfectly to plan on my hydration, electrolytes and food, but with the humidity at 5% it is extremely difficult to tell how much water weight you’re losing and how dehydrated are becoming. In hindsight, I was more dehydrated than I thought.

I finished day one in 5:50, an hour ahead of my original plan and over four hours ahead of the cut off time. Crossing the finish line felt amazing and the first thing I encounter after crossing the line was a tea kiosk, which I blew right by, as a cup of hot tea is the last thing on my mind. But…..I hear my name being called in a French accent… “William”…… “William”….I turned around and Patrick Bauer, the esteemed race founder and Director, is there, calling me out to have some tea with him. I said “Patrick anything for you” and took the cup from him and I tried it and surpriseingly enjoyed it. Tea time with the race director…. it was a fun moment.

After crossing the finish line, feeling great, I went directly back to our tent to see if Alberto had finished and how he was doing, his pack was there, but no signs of him. I later learned that he was in the medical tent line for several hours for blisters. I took my backpack and laid it on its side, blew up my sleeping pad and put my head on my backpack to try and take a nap.

For 30 minutes I drifted in and out of sleep when a media Director for the MDS stopped by and asked if I would be willing to do an interview, as they wanted to highlight me. As my goal is to raise awareness, I immediately said yes not realizing that they want to interview me right then in front of my tent, OK, so I popped out of the tent sat on the ground as the microphone was threaded through my jacket.

I Agreed to be filmed the rest of the day as well as tomorrow for broll.

Jairan and Andres both made it back which was really great, tent 103 in its entirety completed Stage 1. The rest of the afternoon and evening was a nonevent with the highlight being a “intervention” with Andres to get his pack weight down.

The night was much warmer and the tent was very comfortable, but for some reason I couldn’t sleep tonight either.

I tried everything from yoga to breathing techniques, but I just couldn’t sleep. The highlight of the second night was that I finally pooped in a bag it’s the little things in the desert!

3/28/2022 – Stage 2

Except for the sleep, everything was in order for a great day in stage two the weather looked to be amazing, a little bit warmer than the previous day, but not horrible, my pack was even better optimized and I had a great breakfast. I was excited and ready, I felt strong.

So now I have two film crews following me, the cinematographer filming the documentary that has been with me the entire trip and now the MDS team, I”m embarrassed by the attention. I’m trying not to acknowledge it or get filmed picking sand out of my nose.

I controlled my pace carefully on stage two (S2), through checkpoint one (CP1). I was constantly reminding myself to slow down, I felt so strong. Channeling some Swahili I had learned on Kilimanjaro…Pole..Pole…

As mentioned about the bus ride, I kept “running” into Paul all the time on the course. Paul and I had a lot in common, love of adventure, leading philanthropic organizations and overcoming the things that life throws at you, are just a few. I met Paul Templer on the bus ride to the Errachidia airport, I had seen him across the dinner table the night before and only knew that he was part of the American group, but he was too far away to speak to. Paul has an inspirational story, he lost his arm after a Hippopotamus attacked a fellow guide during a canoe tour in Africa. Paul was helping to rescue the guide, when the Hippo turned on him. He lost his arm and nearly lost more. Paul is a motivational speaker and has a foundation to help people with development disabilities and their families, inspired by his daughter.

Paul and I walked together at the beginning of stage 2, just chatting in general and talking about blister problems he was having, thoughts I had based on my experience, etc. I wouldn’t see Paul again until 2 km before CP2.

I pre-populated my water bottles with electrolyte tablets right before reaching CP1, then I only needed 2 minutes total, at the CP, as I just poured the water into my bottles, soaked my hat and was on my way. Interestingly, I still had ~200 ml of water left from the start, which meant that I only needed 1.25 liters to cover the 13 km to CP1.

Just after CP1 I found the remains of a Camel that appeared to have laid down in the shade and died, I took a video of it and jokingly commented how I hoped that wasn’t my fate, that poor camel.

“Man, as man, has never realized himself. The greater part of him, his potential being, has always been submerged. What is history if not the endless story of his repeated failures?” – Henry Miller

I started my career as an engineer and worked in various industries including avionics and automotive, where I learned failure mode effects analysis and systems engineering principles. These tools basically teach you to exhaustively analyze interactions between all potential mechanisms of failure and the impact and severity that they might have on things, to ensure that when a component or sub system fails the end result will be safe.

10 minutes or so outside of CP1, still feeling fresh and strong, I hear a crack and feel a pressure change instantaneously. What the hell was that? I looked down and my waist belt is open, the plastic buckle that connects both sides is broken in half and the broken piece is missing. This is a big problem because I carry about 70% of my pack weight on my hips, but now all of the weight is on my shoulders which I can already feel the pain of.

OK I’ll prop up the weight on my back and tie it off by hand around my waist. Well this is where my broken right hand became a problem. I tried over and over, but I can’t get it tight enough to carry the weight, it just keeps slipping down my hip.

As I am struggling with this, multiple people pass me and asked me if I need help, including a wonderful couple from the Jura (France) which is one of my favorite wine regions. They say they have a couple extra clips, and they can give them to me, at their tent (80) in camp tonight.

It was then that I decided to shed a liter of water (~2.2 Lb’s), leaving 1.5 L to get me to CP2, which should be enough under current conditions.

As I set off with my backpack squarely on my shoulders, within five minutes I see a sandstorm forming on the horizon, directly up wind. Great, well OK, let me get my sandstorm “kit” out to protect my lungs against the dust, so I can have quick access to it if I need to. Ironically this process is remarkably easy due to the broken waist belt.

Yeah, OK, it’s a full on sandstorm, I’m not sure how fast the wind is but I’m guessing it’s over 30 mph the gusts are knocking me back a bit and the temperature is hot, 105 degrees according to my watch.

I’ve taken my salt pills, taken my food and my medication exactly per plan, but I’m walking much slower into this headwind so I’m running out of water, plus I now have a mask on to keep the dust out of my lungs, but I feel like I’m starting to bake and my heart rate, which I’m monitoring regularly is now above my 90% threshold and I’m starting to feel wobbly and exhausted. I calculate that I’m around 2 km from CP2 with almost 7 hours left to complete the remaining 15 km. Also, I have 2 hours to recover at CP2 so I just need to slow down, get my heart rate down and steadily make my way into the CP.

But, my heart rate isn’t going down, it’s maxed and staying that way, likely from dehydration, so I really only have a few options, sit down and see if my HR recovers, further slow my pace and keep making my way to CP2 or push the emergency button, take myself out of the race and get help.

With the air temperature higher than optimal body temperature, sitting without water doesn’t really make sense and I will use the emergency button if it feels like an emergency, so I will keep walking to CP2 at a very slow pace and monitor everything carefully.

Everyone has slowed their pace and I only encountered a few people, when like it was scripted, Paul catches up to me and we start to walk together again, which was great. He offers me some of his water but I refuse, because that is against the rules for me and I was determined to make it to CP2.

Paul was awesome, but my body started to shut down, I couldn’t really walk into the wind anymore, 2 steps to the left, stabilize, two steps to the right, I need to sit down……………

The next thing I remember is seeing a tinge of bright light and the intense taste of sand in my mouth. I can hear the wind howling and several conversations in what seems to be French and Arabic. A reaction timed with my discovery? I’m really not sure where I am or what is happening, someone is yelling at me to stay awake…….. there is a peace-fullness to it all, I felt like I was floating in space, eventually seeing blue sky contrasted with 5-7 people standing over me, an ominous view as most are wearing ski goggles.

I feel myself drifting off and the yelling escalates again, I decide to do everything in my power to keep my eyes open, but it is hard with the sand blowing so violently,…..I am intensely concentrating on it, bending a spoon like concentration. This goes on until I somehow start talking, “water?” No, you can’t drink! “Water?” No! “Water!?” Then I see the cinematographer, she wets a napkins and puts it in my mouth. “Water!”………”Please pour water on me”….as the drops of water cascade down my face, I feel alive, ironically as I think to myself, am I dying? My throat is in massive pain…..”Do I have a tracheotomy?” Que? “tracheotomy?” Que? Then, I hear a helicopter, “I will not take a helicopter”…..”The sand storm is too dangerous to risk a pilots life” Que? “I will not take a helicopter”…..”I will fight you!”

I remember the look on the nurses face, she seemed relieved. I am still unable to move my limbs but able to move my eyes, mouth and fingers and I now have an idea where I am, right where I stopped in the race, still lying in the same place and I didn’t have a tracheotomy, my mouth is just so raw from the dehydration and sand. Eventually they sit me up against the medical truck that is next to me and I begin to be able to move my legs, although they feel like they are 300 lb’s each. “Can I continue?” Que?…..”Can I continue?”……No response

They eventually were able to get me in the truck and set me in a Berber tent (Above), but the sides were flapping so violently from the sand-storm, they were smacking me in the head and immediately knocked my IV bag down, which reversed the flow and turned red. After a few minutes, they got me back in the truck where we could hang the IV from the roof handle and we headed to the Bivouac.

The ride back took about an hour and 20 minutes, there are no real roads and we had a brief stop to help another truck that had gotten stuck in the sand, which I learned later had a tent-mate of mine in it, who was OK just withdrawn. In the medical tent they gave me two additional IV bags before they would release me, so while that was happening, I asked to give my bed to one of the individuals that had recently arrived in pretty bad shape, the staff and the infrastructure was a bit overwhelmed with the number of people.

After final medical clearance, I was taken through a process of checking out, where I donated all my food to give to local people in need, then escorted to the dinner to grab a little food before going back to our original tent, to see my tent-mates.

Of course I was finally able to sleep, I actually got over three hours, but we had to be ready at six to head out, as it is mandatory to leave first thing in the morning. I was excited because we would soon have cell coverage and I could make changes to my flights to get home and see my family right away.

So on S2, near CP2, I collapsed from heat stroke with a temperature of 106 and was unconscious for 15 to 20 minutes, laying in the sand for 65 minutes and in that spot for 1:40 total. Everything was captured on film.

I am forever grateful for Paul who immediately requested medical assistance when I started to go unconscious, Ghalia the wonderful cinematographer who went to get the medical team and actually drove the media truck herself and the medical team who took great care of me in a very difficult overwhelming situation. Thank you all!

Getting back to TS Elliot:

I went too far in the Sahara, learning exactly how far I can go. I take what happened tremendously seriously, and will be sorting out my path forward based on the learnings of this and the last few years.

Certainly this is the end of a chapter, but the book isn’t written yet and as I begin to turn the page, I am full of optimism and excitement about the future. I have a fire inside me that will never burn out and there is nothing in this world that can hold me down.

I will be back!

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