And you thought limping around London’s was hard. The annual Marathon des Sables race covers 151 miles of prime desert over six days. Which makes it five-and-a-half times the distance of your average marathon and, just to make it that little bit harder, you have to carry your clothes, food and a sleeping bag on your back. Temperatures can reach 50C in daytime and you can bank on an absence of cheering crowds (it is the Sahara, after all) or pubs belting out a Van Halen hit to help you along.
Taking part in the Marathon des Sables is the closest thing to joining the French Foreign Legion (and, adding insult to quite possible injury, you'll pay handsomely for the privilege). Moreover, securing a place is just as much of a challenge as taking part. On 5 March this year, registration for the 2009 race opens and, as every year, the 235 places available to British runners (the largest contingent in the Marathon) will sell out in under 10 minutes, making it a hotter ticket than dinner at one of Gordon Ramsay’s restaurants – who has happened to enquire about a place, but was probably put off by the wait.
All of this might leave you wondering exactly who would actually enjoy taking part in this marathon of marathons. 'It's a certain type of person,' says the UK organiser Steve Dietrich, choosing his words carefully, 'although one person has done it 10 times.' He thinks for a while. 'I mean, you have to pay £500, wait three years, then shell out another £2,000, and by day two your feet are mangled and you have never been so exhausted. And after that you’ve got to carry on for another four days.'
At least no one will be asking you to wear a chicken costume.
