Time - The Pink Floyd

'Ten years have got behind you.  No one told you when to run.  You missed the starting gun'.

Ten years, or as we refer to it as a decade, is a relatively long passage of time. It can include many life events, both good and bad, and in my case the last decade the one that started ten years’ ago today has proved to be life affirming.

 

Yes, 21st March 2016 marked the beginning of an agonising brush with the neurological condition Guillain-Barré Syndrome (GBS).

 

Now I've written many times about how I survived the setback - came back to life and continued running where I'd left off prior to the illness. My 976-marathon count of March 2016 is now 1,238 - some 262 further on, includes a Tenth Guinness World Record, five Marathon des Sables and three ULTRA-X events in Jordan to highlight a few. 

 

I've been lucky, to say the least.

 

What I can say is that for the past ten years I've enjoyed living life with a much greater level of clarity and now see things in a much more simplistic way.

 

As a 'Second-Lifer' as I call people that have overcome such life-threatening illnesses or accidents - I don't waste my time and I'm quite happy to speak up if I'm not happy or disagree with any situation. But then it shouldn't take that kinda wake up call to trigger a new way of living.

 

This attitude could be adopted by anyone at any stage of their life. You just have to say ‘No’…

 

And I'm not saying that you should become an aggressive, super-assertive ogre overnight - just take it from me that even in the darkest of times, when you look back some ten years on, you'll might see the moment where things changed hopefully for the better.

 

Now, I'm off heading towards 21st March 2036 - who knows what's in store or even if I'll make it - but I hope to see you there.

1,238 Marathons - 291 Ultras - 10 GWR - 18 MDS - 1 Life 

Don't Look Back in Anger - Oasis

Oasis #1 on this day in 1996

There are certain days in your life that really stand out from the rest. And these might include the day you were married, the birth of your children, the day of your exam results and for many people like me - the day of their Marathon Personal Best or as we call it ‘Our PB’.

 

Some thirty years' ago this very day I ran 3:24:21 at the now long-gone Borders Marathon in Suffolk. A cold day -2c at the start and one I remember vividly as I thought at the time, this is it! This is the one I'll engrave on my headstone, this is the one I will be measured by. A day where everything was just perfect and all the planets lined up on my 15th lifetime marathon.

 

You see in 1996 there were no Gels, Garmins or Energy Drinks. Timing was on your wrist using a Timex Ironman watch and the 26.2 miles could have been anything in reality as I'm sure it was measured with a piece of string on a map. But who cares, it's my PB and one of my life highlights and one I'll take to my grave.

 

Why is it so important? Well, it just is, as I'll never get anywhere near it now that I'm 64 (my next closest PB attempt was actually my 95th marathon a few years later – but who cares).

 

So, today is a day of remembering the good times but also rejoicing that a) I'm still on planet earth to do that reminiscing and b) still doing what I love if somewhat slower.

 

My lesson today is to enjoy the moment, as they are soon specks in the rear-view mirror of life.

 

Amen.

1,237 Marathons - 291 Ultras - 10 MDS - 18 MDS - 1 Life

Stop - The Spice Girls

It's about now MDS-40 days that I usually give my be careful message about training and injuries leading up to the race.

By now, you should be well trained and able to cover 42.2kms comfortably in one go, in good time. Let's face it, if you can't you’re doing the wrong race and you'll be coming home medal-free and totally miserable.

 

You'll also be miserable if you make an injury worse by continuing to train on it or if you are running when you are ill.

 

For the record, I've just had a week off with a nasty chest cold and have just had to rest up and let it take its course. Am I cheesed off yes, but looking at my resting heart rate and HRV it's really obvious which day it started, peaked and then faded away. There are a lot of health features built into a GPS watch which will show this - so why not use them? 

 

Basically, if it says you are ‘Strained’ or your HRV is in the red - you’re knackered.

 

The simple fact is that you won't improve your MDS now by much, if anything at all, but you can ruin it 100% - so please don't. If you are not sure, ask me, give me what’s been going on and I'll give you some advice that may just change the outcome of your MDS.

 

Getting there, injury free and well rested is the best way I promise - see you there safe and sound - raring to go.

1,234 Marathons - 291 Ultras - 10 GWR - 18 MDS Legendary - 1 Vision

Feeling a Moment - Feeder

Don't let it go...

Moments in life slip through our fingers like grains of sand. Ordinary days blur into one. Conversations we have are quickly forgotten and things we promise to remember, we simply forget. But then there are moments that are different. They make us stop in our tracks. They can be completely overwhelming and these moments matter.

The truth is, we can’t choose the moments that change you. And to remember such moments, you must first be in the ‘now’.

Without question, we live in a constantly changing world. What’s next? What’s better? What’s trending? It’s rapid alright. We end up replaying yesterday’s regrets whilst fast-forwarding through tomorrow’s worries, yet the present moment is the only place where life actually happens. Not in the past. Not in the future. Right here – right now.

Memory isn’t just a mental recording it’s an emotional imprint. We can’t remember every detail of our lives, but we can remember how moments felt and if you want to remember the moment, let yourself feel it fully. 

Sometimes remembering the moment means putting down your phone. It means resisting the urge to capture everything on film and instead experiencing it for yourself. A photo can remind you of a place, but presence allows you to relive it. There is a difference between recording a memory and creating one.

It’s also important to remember that not every meaningful moment is happy. Some are more difficult, uncomfortable, and bittersweet. In the future, what feels ordinary now may be the very thing you long to revisit. So, take a deep breath and look around. Feel your feet on the ground and let a moment really register.

Life isn’t made of years – it’s made of moments. And the ones you choose to capture are the ones you will carry with you forever.

One of mine is looking down from Jebel Otfal in the Marathon des Sables in 2017 a year after being paralysed with Guillain-Barré Syndrome. A place I thought I’d never be able to see in the dark days of recovery.

What’s yours?

1,236 Marathons - 291 Ultras - 10 GWR - 18 MDS - 1 Moment

Road to Nowhere - The Talking Heads

My preparation for MdS is all about planning and adaptability. Early on in my career, I was far more ‘gung-ho’ learning lessons the hard way, during races. Over the years and with the help of my wife’s Jen’s attention to detail at the race, my preparation became has become more of a science with precise packing and smarter training plans.

It’s more about the value of learning from experience rather than following fads in running gear or the latest training gimmicks. My approach respects how your body reacts over longer distances. Lessons about footcare and injury prevention came from years of trial and error, success on the road and in the desert rather than from other people’s ideas and strange footcare potions.

 

The MdS mindset is that completion matters more than competition. I’ve started over a thousand marathons and ultramarathons and have never failed to finish one. This isn’t down to speed or natural talent, but my persistence and resilience. For me, success isn’t measured by where I finish, it’s about crossing the line, no matter how tough the conditions are. 

The MDS teaches one patience, perseverance and the power of pushing on through when the mind wants to quit.

 

When I coach someone for the MDS, the first thing I tell them is simple, this race will expose your preparation. The desert doesn’t reward bravado. It rewards honesty, discipline, and patience.

My coaching approach comes from experience.. I’ve made mistakes out there, so others don’t have to. Early on, I thought toughness was enough, well it isn’t. Toughness without structure leads to injury, panic, or a very long week in the Sahara. What gets you through MDS is calm decision-making under stress and that starts months before the race.

I focus heavily on the fundamentals. Training isn’t about smashing yourself every session. It’s about consistent time on your feet, learning how your body responds when it’s tired, hot, and under-fuelled. Back-to-back runs, steady pacing, and long hours moving matter far more than chasing speed. If you arrive at the start line already broken, you’ve lost before you begin.

Kit selection is another area where people overthink and under-test. I coach runners to be boring with their gear. Nothing new. Nothing unproven. Your pack, shoes, socks, and food should feel familiar before you ever set foot in the desert. The MDS is not the place for experiments.

 

Comfort, efficiency, and simplicity win every time.

The race is long, very long and the sand is unforgiving, I encourage runners to focus inwards, manage their own pace, their own energy, their own problems. If you can stay calm when things start to unravel, you’re already ahead of most of the field.

One of the most important strategies I teach is breaking the race down. Never think about the full distance. Never think about how many days are left. Think about the next checkpoint. The next hour. Sometimes the next few steps. 

Above all, I coach runners to respect the race - I do.

My job as a coach is to prepare people so that when things get hard, they recognise the moment, manage it, and keep going. That’s how you finish the MDS and that’s what stays with you long after the desert is behind you.

1,234 Marathons - 290 Ultras - 10 GWR - 18 MDS - 1 Direction 

Approach - U2

People often ask me how I approach the Marathon des Sables, as if there’s a secret formula. And if there is it’s ‘respect the race, respect yourself, and never underestimate the desert’.

I’ve completed the Marathon des Sables many times now, and every edition has taught me something new. No matter how experienced you are, the Sahara doesn’t care about what you’ve done as it strips everything back. Out there, there are no egos, and it’s you, alone with your pack, and alone your thoughts.

My approach has changed over the years. In the early years, I was far more gung-ho. I believed toughness alone was all I needed to get through. Toughness matters, of course, but what really gets you to the finish line is preparation and patience. These days, I obsess more over the basics – kit choice, pack weight, foot care and nutrition nothing glamorous, but all super important as small mistakes in the desert don’t stay that small for long.

Training for MdS isn’t about trying to destroy yourself every day. It’s about consistency. You build resilience slowly, stacking in the miles and time on your feet, learning how your body reacts when it’s tired, hungry, and hot. I want runners to arrive at the start line confident, not broken. The race will do enough of that on its own.

Mentally, I approach MdS with one clear objective - to finish. I’ve never been interested in racing other people out there. The real competition is the voice in your head telling you to stop. When things get dark as they can do I remind myself why I’m there. Most people who sign up are either running away from something or running towards something. Knowing which one you are, makes all the difference when you’re trudging through soft sand at 2am in the morning.

I break the race down into bite sized chunks. Never think about the full distance. Never think about tomorrow. Think about the next checkpoint. The next step. Sometimes the next ten steps. Momentum is powerful, even when it’s painfully slow.

One thing I’ve learned is that finishing strong doesn’t mean finishing fast. It means staying calm when things go wrong, because they will. Blisters, heat, fatigue, doubt. You don’t fight them; you manage them. You accept them as part of the experience.

The Marathon des Sables isn’t just a race to me. It’s a mirror. It shows you who you are when comfort is removed and excuses don’t work anymore. Every time I return, I’m reminded why I started running in the first place, not to escape hardship, but to prove I can work my way through it.

Crossing the finish line never gets boring. Not because it’s heroic, but because it’s honest. You’ve earned every step. And in the desert, that’s enough believe me.

1,234 Marathons - 290 Ultras - 10 GWR - 18 MDS - 1 Approach

Decade - Duran Duran

Ten years have slipped by since 2016, and it’s strange how both near and far that year feels now. Back then, the world seemed busy yet somehow familiar. Social media was still playful rather than exhausting and many of us still believed the future would follow a vaguely predictable kinda line. 

A decade later, that confidence now feels somewhat naive.

You see, since 2016 we’ve lived through events that’ve reshaped how we perceive time, trust and each other. The global pandemic paused everyday life and reminded us how fragile our world really is. Work moved into kitchens and spare rooms. Handshakes disappeared overnight and words like ‘lockdown’ and ‘social distancing’ became part of daily language, and the idea of ‘normal’ quietly changed meaning.

Technology has accelerated everything. We are more connected than ever, yet many people feel lonelier. At the same time, awareness has grown around mental health, inclusion, climate, and the importance of speaking out. 

It’s been a turbulent passage of time, yet we have become more reflective.

On a personal level, the years since 2016 have left their own scars. I’ve aged, adapted, and learned resilience I didn’t know I possessed.

And as this decade passes into memory, it leaves behind a quiet challenge. Not to romanticise the past or fear the future, but to take what I’ve learned about empathy, patience, and perspective and use it wisely.

1,234 Marathons - 290 Ultras - 10 GWR - 18 MDS - 10 Years