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  Badwater Ultramarathon

  On the 20 km long, steep climb to Townes Pass, my stomach rebels, my blood pressure rises and my pulse rate starts racing. I slow as by strides become laboured, until I’m forced to stop and rest to recuperate. Shallow, calm breathing, relaxation in the folding chair brought along by my backup team. Night has fallen with a clear, starry, breathtaking firmament, and the sensitive discussion with my family calms the situation. To stabilize my body physically, I take in carbohydrates and additional vitamins, trace elements and sodium. Gradually my will starts returning – the urge to reach the magic line at Whitney Portal. It takes a huge effort just to stand up. My initial strides are really stiff, before I start to loosen up. As the muscles begin to relax with each stride, the confidence in my own capability rises. Returning dynamism stimulates my coordination and galvanizes me for the next 20 km strength-sapping climb to the Panamint Pass, now putting on a red-brown colour show in the rising sun, and filling my dampened spirits with new life. Yet even in this climatic zone, the bright light of the day catapults temperatures very quickly to unbearable highs. Despite these difficult conditions, my tireless crew keep up a cheerful atmosphere, sustaining me in all phases as and when needed, along the endless highway into Owens Valley to the small settlement of Lone Pine at the foot of Mount Whitney, keeping me on an even pace. The first sight of Mount Whitney, the highest mountain in America at 4,418 m, brings the finish, the end of the physical torture, within reach. I feel forces being mobilized that cannot simply be explained by real metabolic functions. It is as though my purpose in life is uniquely focused on this moment. Running, breathing, drinking, cooling, running. Lone Pine. Feeling the strain of the ardours of the route, we walk with a steady pace through the small town, the pulsating life of which seems alien and unreal to me at this moment. At the foot of the mountain, my view is drawn upwards. A moving light chain of runners’ support vehicles moving slowly up to the heavens traces the track to Whitney Portal in the darkness of the night. Another ten and a half miles of an ultra-tough climb – ten and a half miles to Paradise.