Two weeks out from Marathon des Sables and I’m basically a human bundle of nerves. Every night it’s me, my backpack, and a game of “What can I ditch this time?”.. it’s comfort versus not being an idiot. The mantra: don’t get injured. Especially after the cash I’ve spent and the time my family’s invested, willingness or not. I’ve checked into my flight, repacked (because of course), and now I’m just waiting. Heat chamber sessions, hotpod yoga, sauna… my social calendar is basically “how to be a raisin.”

The past couple of months? Rougher than I wanted. I had my sights set on the Transgrancanaria marathon, a mountain run, my final pre-MDS glory. Then, my calf pulled a diva move. After much soul-searching, I skipped it. MDS was the big fish. Tough call I know; I’d hyped myself up for that mountain run. In the end, it was the right call. A week later, calf was fine. But who knows….on that mountain, it might have staged a rebellion.

Confidence took a hit that week. I treated myself to a beach sauna, cold plunges, booked a fancy massage. Well, the massage turned into a comedy of pain. Bony elbows were involved. I had to wave the white flag, and now I’ve had shoulder pain for three weeks. And just for extra fun, it’s now a sharp nerve pain. Haven’t run with a pack since, but I’m betting it’s a twisty issue, not a weight issue. If not, co-codamol is my new desert friend.

Oh, and because life is fun, mild tooth infection. The dentist is playing defense with antibiotics. Nerves, I tell you. They creep in. I’m now eyeing recovery shakes.. ergh.. yes, the ones that make me feel gross. Training my stomach to handle them because calories are going to be tight. And yes, I might sleep on the floor with my MDS kit because what’s life without a little pre-race camping? Training for camp life now, not just running. The body’s ready. I’m at my lowest weight ever and for what it is worth, Garmin’s spitting out top stats like it’s proud of me. Now it’s rest, recovery, and sleeping (tough with a toddler and a dog who’s always sick) but we’ll manage.

I celebrated this moment with a MDS kit shoot with a friend this week, all geared up, reflecting on 18 months of madness. Now it’s go-time. Get to the desert, do the final bag check on technical day, and then just get the fuck going!