I did not enjoy the marathon. It was hell. Even though i now have very fond recollections of it, loved the whole build up and atmosphere around it, and would possibly even do it again, i know my mind is playing tricks. OK, so the start with the local men on camels as pace setters, dancing and singing women, kids running alongside, and a dozen or so jeeps from the red cross, assorted film crews and various others was all very exciting. And when we ran through a town at exactly the half point, and again we ran through a column of cheering people, that was pretty cool. The rest, forget it. I think once near the start i appreciated the beauty of the desert, but that was it. By mile 7 i was pretty tired, by mile 14, i was dead on my feet and ready to stop (in fact, we probably mis-paced it, given that i ran the first 13 miles in 1hr 50 mins), and…well, the rest, it was not pretty. 42C heat, sany/rocky ground, the up and down of dunes, the complete solitude (apart from one totally random camel at mile 20 or so) made for a miserable torid time. At certain points i was sure i would not make it, at others i bizarelly started thinking about the impossibility of having to do the north pole as well within the next month which was pretty stupid - it just resulted in making me even more down. In the end i stumbled home in 4hrs 45 mins, relieved rather than elated, and looking forward to a few days of doing sweet nothing apart from tending to sore limbs.