Jono Jamieson-Black (H, 2017)

In April, I was on my way to Morocco, to compete in the Marathon des Sables (MDS), a gruelling ultramarathon some call ‘the toughest footrace on earth.’

The race is a self-sufficient 250km challenge across the scorching Sahara Desert. With temperatures soaring over 40°C and the longest stage stretching 85km! Maybe I had bitten off more than I could chew…?

My father, John, had completed the race 14 years earlier, and his accomplishment had always held a special place in my heart. Sadly, he passed away just before my final year of university. Whilst processing this loss and seeking a challenge to push myself beyond my comfort zone, I decided to honour him by taking on the MDS myself.

The adventure began in an unexpected way. On the flight, I found myself seated next to Harry Hunter, a 76-year-old former Household Cavalry Officer, who is now the oldest Briton to complete the race. His stories were of great inspiration and wisdom, and his infectious enthusiasm set the perfect tone for the trip. He definitely helped to settle any nerves.

Landing in Ouarzazate, we were whisked away on a six-hour bus journey deep into the desert. We arrived at our home for the week: a simple bivouac, a black canopy tent shared by eight of us, nestled close together like sardines – Tent 48! Introductions were quick, replaced by conversations about motivations, training, and the dreaded question of pack weight. Soon, though, banter filled the dry air, and a sense of camaraderie blossomed between us.

Tent 48 – it wouldn’t have been the same without them!

The next seven days were, it’s safe to say, a challenge, especially the brutal 85km stage. For stretches of the long stage, I found myself alone, with no one to chase or keep pace with. Agoraphobia was a very real sensation. It was just me, the pounding heat, and the constant reminder of my ‘why.’ Every step of the way, I knew Dad would be with me in spirit. He’d spoken so fondly of the race; I knew he wouldn’t miss a step!

Despite the harshness, a surprising beauty emerged from the desert. When lifting our heads from the pounding of our feet, you’d be met by a beautiful screen-saver worthy view. Endless stretches of horizon unfolded, punctuated by huge untouched dunes that pierced the flat sandy floor. An all encompassing silence reigned, broken only by the crunch of steps – a testament to the stark lack of life around us.

Jono (on the right) and university friend Freddie, on stage 2 – 40.8km.

A trip like this packs a lifetime of memories: the heartstopping moment the tent buckled in the middle of the night because of a sandstorm, or the simple joy of savouring a sweet mint tea at the end of each stage. The experience taught me most importantly to push yourself outside of your comfort zone. It reminded me that growth comes from letting go of the assumption that we know ourselves and embracing challenges. Simply by taking action and doing hard things, we can discover just how capable we truly are.

Of course, I’d like to thank so many of you who donated. We managed to raise over £13,000 for the British Heart Foundation, all in memory of Dad, a stroke survivor whose life ultimately ended due to cardiac arrest.

Finishing on the final day