Stage 3 of the MDS 120 Atlantic Coast wasn’t about pace. It was about heart. Twenty-seven kilometres stood between every runner and the finish. The final stage. The one that decides how the story ends.
The day opened under a heavy sky. Low cloud hung over the coast, light rain drifting in and out, just enough to cool the skin and sharpen the mood. It felt serious. Proper. A stage that demanded respect.
From the first steps, the terrain made its intentions clear. Soft sand soaked up energy. Feet sank, calves burned, rhythm disappeared. Progress came the hard way, one honest stride at a time.
Then there was the Atlantic – Wild. Loud. Unapologetic. The ocean pushed high up the beach, swallowing the firm running line and forcing everyone into deeper, slower sand. The final ten kilometres became a test of patience and grit. Shoes heavy with water. Legs tight. Eyes fixed forward. The sound of the waves constant, relentless, daring you to stop.
Every runner carried their own journey into those final kilometres. Some had 70 kilometres in their legs. Others 100. Many the full 120. Different distances, same effort. Same doubts. Same determination.
And then, finally, the finish.
Not a sprint. Not fireworks. Just raw, unfiltered emotion.
Tears mixed with rain. Smiles broke through exhaustion. Hugs lasted longer than words. That medal, placed gently around tired necks, meant everything. It wasn’t just metal. It was proof. Of discipline. Of resilience. Of promises kept when quitting would have been easier.
This is what the Atlantic Coast gives you.
It gives you challenge. It gives you atmosphere. It gives you moments where the world narrows down to breath, movement, and will. And in return, it gives you something rare. A finish that feels truly earned.
If you’re looking for a race that stays with you long after the sand is washed from your shoes, this is it. The coast is waiting.
Stage 2 of the MDS 120 Atlantic Coast 2026 arrived with options and consequences. Twenty kilometres, forty, or the full sixty. Three distances, one shared truth: today would ask more than legs. It would ask for patience, judgement, and honesty. The course did not care which option was chosen. It simply waited, stretching out along the Atlantic edge, ready to test everyone who stepped onto it.
The morning hinted at uncertainty. Low cloud rolled in from the ocean, cool air brushing faces that had already been scoured by salt and sand. There was a little rain, just enough to darken the ground and sharpen the smell of wet earth. Then the sun broke through, sudden and bright, as if to remind the field that comfort would be temporary and effort unavoidable. It was a day of changeable weather in every sense, and the tone was set early. Adjust. Adapt. Keep moving.
From the first kilometres, the terrain refused to settle into anything predictable. Soft sand swallowed shoes and rhythm, turning simple forward motion into work. Each step demanded attention. Ankles wobbled, calves burned, and breathing grew louder. Then the sand gave way to rocky plateau, hard and uneven underfoot.
The pace changed again, this time to caution. Eyes stayed down, scanning for safe placement. The plateau opened wide, exposing runners to the elements and to themselves. There was nowhere to hide from the wind, the sun, or the thoughts that arrive when the body starts to ask hard questions.
Flooded gorges brought a different challenge. Water pooled where it was least expected, cool and deceptively deep. Shoes filled, socks soaked, and the familiar squelch followed each step on the exit. Some laughed at the absurdity of it. Others grimaced, knowing wet feet mean blisters later. But everyone crossed, because stopping was never really an option. This race does not negotiate.
Beyond the gorges, the course stretched into wide open terrain. The Atlantic Ocean appeared and disappeared, sometimes a distant shimmer, sometimes close enough to hear. The scale of the landscape made individuals feel small, but also free. Lines of colour moved slowly across the land as runners spread out, each locked into their own effort. This was where time began to behave strangely. Minutes felt long. Hours blurred. The distance chosen mattered less than the simple act of continuing.
The final stretch ran flat and true, parallel to the ocean. It should have felt easier. On paper, it was. In reality, it was where fatigue spoke loudest. The body was already empty. The mind had been negotiating for kilometres. Yet the finish lay ahead, invisible at first, then slowly, mercifully, real. The ocean rolled on, indifferent and steady, while the race reached its quiet climax.
The finish line became a gathering point for everything this day had taken and given. It was a welcome sight, one that drew out raw emotion without apology. Tears fell freely, sometimes before the line, sometimes after. Laughter broke out in short bursts, the kind that comes when tension finally releases. There was joy, genuine and earned, mixed with exhaustion that sat deep in the bones. Some crossed upright and strong. Others bent double, hands on knees, searching for breath. All were changed.
The day stretched long into the night. Headlamps flickered in the distance as darkness closed in. Volunteers stayed wrapped in layers, voices steady, encouragement unwavering. The clock kept moving. And then, close to 2300 hours, the final finisher crossed the line. There was no rush. No hurry to be anywhere else. Just a moment held for someone who refused to stop. Applause cut through the night, not loud, but meaningful. This, too, mattered.
Stage 2 was not about speed. It was about choice and consequence, about learning the difference between discomfort and danger, about discovering how much is left when you think there is nothing. Today, participants found out who they are and why they are here. Some answers were quiet. Others arrived with force. But they arrived all the same.
There were moments of doubt, of frustration, of anger at the sand, the stones, the weather, the distance. There were also moments of clarity, when effort narrowed the world down to the essentials. Step. Breathe. Drink. Keep going. In those moments, the noise of everyday life fell away. What remained was simple and honest.
As the camp settles and the body begins to cool, tomorrow offers something rare in this environment. A day of rest. A pause. Time to recharge and recover. Muscles will stiffen, feet will tell their stories, and minds will replay the day in fragments. There will be care, conversation, and quiet pride. Because Stage 2 demanded respect, and those who met it earned that rest.
The Atlantic continues to roll in the dark. The course waits. And the field, changed by today, will rise again when it is time.
Stage 1 of the 2nd edition of the MDS 120 Atlantic Coast marked a powerful and inspiring beginning to the adventure in Morocco, where the desert meets the Atlantic Ocean. A field of 250 participants set out on this opening day, with an impressive 80 percent taking on their very first MDS experience. Just under half of the runners were women, and the age range spoke volumes about the inclusive spirit of the race, from the youngest at 19 years old to the oldest at 78. With 30 nationalities represented and the support of 147 dedicated staff, the event immediately felt global, vibrant, and alive.
This first stage covered 23km, with 343m of elevation gain, following a point-to-point route along the Atlantic coast. Checkpoints were placed at 9.1km and 17km, guiding runners through a constantly changing landscape.
The terrain offered little rhythm. Soft sand drained energy, dry river beds broke momentum, and rocky plateaus demanded focus and careful footwork. While the elevation profile looked modest on paper, the reality underfoot made it a demanding day from start to finish. The sand, in particular, turned every step into a test of patience and strength.
The challenge began long before the start line. A 2am wake-up, followed by a 3am departure and a lengthy transfer, asked a lot of the runners before dawn had even broken. Yet spirits remained high. These athletes were fully self-sufficient, carrying everything they needed on their backs, managing their nutrition, hydration, and equipment as they moved across the course. It was a true test of endurance, organisation, and resilience.
Despite the early start, the travel, and the relentless terrain, the performance across the field was outstanding. Every runner dug deep, and the final participant crossed the finish line well within the cut-off time, greeted with applause and encouragement.
As the sun dipped and the day drew to a close, the runners settled in for their first night under the stars on the Atlantic coast. Tired legs, sandy shoes, and quiet smiles told the story of a hard-earned first stage completed. It was a demanding, memorable opening chapter, and a clear signal that the MDS 120 Atlantic Coast is as much about heart and determination as it is about distance.
MDS 120 Atlantic Coast returns for 2026 with a bold 2nd edition that invites walkers and runners alike to a three-stage, four-day self-sufficient challenge along Morocco’s Atlantic shores. Competitors will take on routes of 70, 100, or 120 kilometres in total, choosing their own distance while mastering the same demanding, coast-to-coast format that has become a hallmark of the MDS family. This year’s edition follows closely on the heels of the inaugural MDS Ultra, which wrapped up just a week earlier, making the Atlantic Coast event the season’s first MDS 120 race of 2026. Participants will gather in Agadir for a seamless pre-race briefing, then linger after the finish for a relaxed post-race stay in a comfortable hotel. The event is designed for all abilities, from dedicated walkers to seasoned runners, offering a true test of endurance without sacrificing accessibility.
Photo by Ian Corless
The coastline landscape promises a mix of open beaches, wind-sculpted dunes, and rugged hinterland, delivering diverse terrain without losing the sense of adventure that draws participants back year after year. By welcoming walkers right beside runners, the event reaffirms its commitment to inclusivity while preserving the challenge that marks the MDS family. For those who crave the feel of a grand adventure without crossing continents, the Atlantic Coast edition offers a perfect balance of scenery, camaraderie, and personal achievement.
Photo by Ian Corless
What to expect on the three stages
The race unfolds over three days of stage racing, spread across four calendar days. Each participant selects their total distance – 70, 100, or 120 kilometres – and completes the corresponding combination of stage lengths. The route design emphasises a continuous, day-by-day test of endurance, and self-reliance, with the sense of discovery growing as the coastline unveils new horizons.
Expect a demanding yet spectacular mix of beach stretches, coastal dunes, rocky outcrops, and inland trails that thread along the Atlantic fringe. While the sea air and sun contribute to the challenge, the route rewards rhythm, efficient pacing, and smart planning.
As a self-sufficient event, participants rely on well-marked courses and a robust safety net. Course marshals, remote safety teams, and medical support are in place, with clear guidelines on mandatory equipment and daily checkpoints. Competitors manage their own nutrition and water, planning for the day ahead while staying mindful of weather and terrain. This combination of independence and structure is what defines the MDS 120 experience.
Photo by Ian Corless
The MDS 120 Atlantic Coast is explicitly designed to welcome a wide spectrum of abilities. If you’re a walker who can cover long distances with steady pace, or a runner seeking a new endurance benchmark, this event offers a supported, self-sufficient platform to push limits in a beautiful, accessible setting. It’s ideal for first-time MDS 120 participants seeking a well-structured introduction without compromising the sense of accomplishment, as well as returning athletes looking for a coastal contrast to Sahara routes.
Why MDS 120?
Expanded inclusivity with a broader distance range: The 70/100/120 km options enable more participants to tailor the challenge to their current level while still delivering the iconic MDS 120 experience.
Photo by Ian Corless
A fresh Atlantic coastal route: The coastline around Agadir offers new routes that emphasise coastal beauty and wind-sculpted terrain, creating a distinctive mood and pacing compared with prior editions.
Photo by Ian Corless
Athletes travel to Agadir, where a hotel base serves as the staging ground for briefing and support, with a hotel stay also planned for post-race recovery and celebration. The overall package aims to balance challenge with comfort, giving participants a strong sense of community without sacrificing the rugged essence of self-sufficiency.
A celebration of pace, place, and persistence MDS 120 Atlantic Coast 2nd edition is more than a test of endurance. It’s a celebration of pace, place, and persistence, inviting a broad range of athletes to test their limits in a setting that blends the raw beauty of Morocco’s Atlantic edge with the camaraderie and strategy that define the MDS experience. The 70, 100, and 120 km distances let participants choose a level of challenge that matches their training, experience, and appetite for adventure, while the three-stage format over four days preserves the thrill of back-to-back days on the trail.
If you’re looking for a race that marries coastline drama with self-sufficient racing, where every kilometre earned is a personal milestone and every sunset over the Atlantic is a reward, the 2nd edition of MDS 120 Atlantic Coast in Morocco awaits.
Forty years after the first chapter of desert racing was written, a new one opened in the Merzouga region of Morocco with the inaugural edition of MDS ULTRA. This was not a return to the past, an acknowledgement of history but also a clear statement of intent – one race, two distances, no stages and no reset. Just a single, continuous effort across the desert, with runners committing to either 100 kilometres or 100 miles within a strict 40-hour time limit.
Set against the wide, open landscapes surrounding Merzouga, the race introduced a different way to experience the Sahara. Held in winter, the conditions reshaped the challenge. Days offered pleasant, manageable heat that allowed athletes to settle into rhythm and pace. Nights told a different story. Temperatures dropped fast, the cold biting through fatigue, turning the long hours of darkness into a test of preparation, focus, and resolve. Managing layers, energy, and morale became as important as managing speed.
The course reinforced a stripped-back philosophy. Predominantly flat and designed with less soft sand, for some, it encouraged sustained running, for others, the distance and challenge required survival marching. But flat did not mean easy. Over such distances, the lack of variety became its own challenge. Every mistake was amplified, every slowdown hard to recover from. The desert demanded patience and discipline, hour after hour, the cold nights bringing the greatest challenge.
On the ground, the scale of the operation matched the ambition of the format. Five life bases were positioned across the route offering a place to sleep, food, a warm fire and incredible support. Nine water stations filled the gaps in-between and a team of 147 staff working across logistics, medical care, safety, and race control made the whole thing tick. Organisation was tight, communication clear, and participant safety central throughout.
The racing itself gave the event its heartbeat. Athletes from 30 countries lined up, bringing an international energy to the desert, with women making up 30 percent of the field. What followed were two races and countless individual battles. In the 100-mile event, Martin Gallardo charged ahead in the early stages of the race, but after 40km’s, Maryline Nakache delivered a standout performance, coming from behind taking the outright win. In the 100-kilometre race, Adriana Moser claimed second place overall behind Sergio Turull, Francesca Canepa placing third – a podium underlining the depth and quality of competition across both distances and the dominance of women in the ultra distance.
But beyond the podiums, MDS ULTRA was 40-hours of stories. The glory of victory played out at the front, while deeper in the field some runners faced the agony of a DNF – forced to stop by injury, exhaustion, or the quiet accumulation of small failures.
For others, the reward was simpler and just as powerful: survival. Reaching the finish after a single, unbroken push through heat, cold, daylight, and darkness.
This first edition of MDS ULTRA established its own identity – it honoured Morocco’s and the MDS desert racing heritage without trying to recreate it. Fast but unforgiving, simple in concept and demanding in execution, it proved that even after four decades, the desert still has new ways to test those who dare to cross it.
A milestone anniversary, new formats, familiar classics, and a season that stretches from the Sahara to the Alps. Some years feel bigger than others. In 2026, the calendar alone tells you this will be one of those years for Marathon des Sables.
Forty editions after its beginnings in the Moroccan desert, Marathon des Sables has grown into a family of events that test endurance in different ways, across different landscapes, and for very different runners. Yet the heart of MDS remains the same. Self-sufficiency, shared hardship, and the quiet satisfaction that comes from moving forward when stopping would be easier.
January opens with something new and bold: MDS Ultra. Two distances. Two very clear challenges. A 100km option for runners ready to push beyond the classic stage format, and a 100-mile race for those who want to see how deep the well really goes.
Photo by Ian Corless
An opening act designed to grab attention. Long distances, sustained effort, and the mental strain that only ultra racing can deliver. For many, it will be the first real test of their winter training. For others, it will be the centrepiece of their season. What matters most is what MDS Ultra represents – It signals evolution not revolution. MDS is not standing still, even as it celebrates its past.
Photo by Ian Corless
Before January ends, the focus shifts west to the ocean for MDS 120 Atlantic Coast. Where dunes once dominated the horizon, runners now deal with open beaches, shifting sand, and the constant presence of the sea. The Atlantic Coast event has its own rhythm. Wind can play a bigger role. Footing changes by the kilometre. Temperatures can vary greatly, and yes, rain may be present? Still self-supported, still demanding, but in a way that surprises many first-timers. By the time the final runners cross the line, January has already delivered two very different expressions of what Marathon des Sables can be.
February and March bring a noticeable change of pace. No race numbers. No finish lines. Instead, preparation. The MDS team turns its attention fully toward the centrepiece of the year: the 40th edition of MDS Legendary. Four decades after the first runners set off into the Sahara, this anniversary edition carries weight. Not just for the organisation, but for the community that has grown around it.
Photo by Ian Corless
Behind the scenes, logistics are refined, routes considered, and details checked and checked again. The Legendary event is not just another race, it is a reference point for stage racing, for many, a rites of passage, and in 2026, it will also be a celebration of everything Marathon des Sables has become.
Once the Legendary edition is complete, the calendar opens up again, and the global nature of MDS takes centre stage.
MDS Raid Namibia delivers raw beauty and isolation in one of Africa’s most striking landscapes. Namibia’s vast spaces, sharp light, and unforgiving terrain strip things back to basics. This is running in its purest form, where the environment sets the rules. A unique event as teams of two challenge a more stripped back and raw experience.
From Namibia, the series moves to Turkey for MDS 120 Cappadocia. Volcanic rock formations, flowing trails, and a sense of history underfoot make this one of the most visually distinctive events on the calendar. It is demanding, but also deeply immersive, ironically, despite the ‘sables’ tag, this event is much more a trail race – something new, different and unique.
MDS Crazy Loops – a format that lives up to its name. Short loops, repeated efforts, and a psychological game that can unravel even experienced runners over 24-hours. It is less about distance on paper and more about resilience in the moment. A fun and challenging event for all abilities that takes place at iconic ski resorts within Europe during July and August. A community event that brings the MDS vibe to the mountains.
As the year moves toward its final months, the pace does not slow. If anything, it accelerates. MDS 120 Morocco returns runners to familiar terrain, but with the confidence and refinement that come from years of experience. This is the desert, revisited with fresh eyes.
Alongside it, MDS Handi continues to redefine what inclusion looks like in endurance sport. It is a powerful reminder that challenge is not one-size-fits-all, and that determination takes many forms.
For those drawn more to movement than racing, MDS Trek Morocco offers a different relationship with the landscape. Still demanding, still immersive, but with space to absorb the experience in full where all abilities are catered for and yes, there is even some luxury – larger tents, no self-sufficiency, showers and so much more…
The international push continues with MDS 120 Jordan, where desert running meets ancient history. The terrain is tough, the scenery unforgettable, and the sense of scale impossible to ignore. An iconic event and arguably one of the most desired events on the MDS calendar.
And yes, there are hints of more to come. Potential surprises remain under wraps, but if past years are any guide, they will add another layer to an already remarkable season.
Photo by Ian Corless
By the time 2026 draws to a close, Marathon des Sables will have crossed continents and climates. Morocco, Jordan, Peru, Turkey, Namibia, and Europe, with the Alps adding altitude to the mix. Each location brings its own challenges, its own stories, and its own reasons for being unforgettable.
What ties them all together is not just branding or format. It is philosophy. Self-reliance. Respect for the environment. And the shared understanding among participants that this is about more than running.
A milestone year invites reflection, but it also demands momentum. In 2026, Marathon des Sables manages both. Honouring 40 years of history while pushing forward into new territory, new formats, and new ways to test human endurance.
For runners, supporters, and the wider endurance community, it is hard not to look at the year ahead and feel a quiet sense of anticipation.
What a year it promises to be.
In addition to the above, there is the MDS Tour and MDS Clubs.
After three quiet years, the MDS returned to Peru and wasted no time reminding everyone why this race holds such a special place in the calendar. Nearly 300 participants from 37 countries lined up for Stage 1, with women making up half the field. That alone set the tone. This race is global, balanced, and ready to make noise again.
The opening stage covered 25.8 kilometers in a clean, straight progression from the inland sands toward the coast.
The line carried runners through the wide-open plains of the Ica Desert, where the world seems to stretch in every direction.
Mild temperatures and cloud cover helped early on, but later the wind arrived. It pushed hard. It dropped the temperature. It forced every runner to stay sharp.
The reward waited ahead. As the course tilted toward the ocean, the landscape opened even more. Big horizons. Rolling dunes. That endless South Pacific backdrop that feels unreal even when you are standing in it.
Few races offer this blend of desert silence and ocean power. Peru does it in a single frame.
The bivouac sat between Nasca and Playa Roja, tucked in a spot that feels carved out just for the MDS. It is the signature of this edition, a camp perched at the edge of land and sea. Runners arrived chilled from the wind but energized by the setting. The view alone could reset a tired mind.
This is the heart of MDS 120 Peru: a three-stage, four-day challenge built around terrain that refuses to be ordinary. Stage 1 delivered everything the return deserved. A bold start. A striking route. A reminder that Peru does not just host a race. It elevates it.
Stage 3 of MDS 120 Jordan, 26 unforgiving kilometres, darkness and the glow of head torches started a day full of promise and pressure. At sunrise, Wadi Rum ignited in gold.
This was the final stretch, the last push through soft sand, searing silence, and soul-stirring scenery. One last chance to earn the medal. One last trial through the desert’s raw beauty and brutal truth.
The route cut through a living painting, towering rock faces, vast plains, and dunes sculpted by centuries of wind.
The first challenge: a steep descent down a glowing dune, soft sand cascading beneath every step. It was beautiful. It was punishing.
As the sun climbed, so did the heat. Every footfall dragged through thick sand. Every glance ahead revealed more of the same: no shortcuts, no reprieve, just the relentless call to keep going.
The terrain twisted between jagged mountains and flat expanses that played tricks on your sense of distance. Wadi Rum doesn’t offer false hope, only real demands. But in that, it gives something rare – clarity.
At the conclusion of stage 3, runners will have logged 70, 100, or even 120 kilometres across Jordan’s desert. Stage 3 wasn’t just the final day, it was the exclamation point.
Bodies were depleted, minds frayed, but the finish line pulled like gravity.
And what a finish. The final stretch opened into a wide, sun-drenched plain, the sound of cheers carried by desert wind.
At the line, tears flowed freely of pain, pride, exhaustion, and elation. Medals were placed on tired and elated bodies, but the real reward was something deeper.
Every runner who crossed that line brought a story. Some came to test limits, others to heal, some to prove a point only they could understand. Each journey was personal, yet all were part of something greater, a living, breathing mosaic of endurance and emotion. This is what made MDS 120 Jordan more than a race.
And within the mosaic, some pieces really stood out, especially the two pieces of Danielle and Bernard – Bernard had completed MDS Legendary and wanted to share the MDS experience with his wife of 50-years – they experienced MDS 120 Jordan, side-dy-side, an incredible and awe inspiring journey of love and solidarity that touched the sole of every participant and staff – this personifies MDS.
And then there’s Jordan itself, its people, its land, its soul. Their generosity turned this challenge into a celebration. Without them, the journey would have been just hard. With them, it was unforgettable.
Now it’s over. Sand still clings to shoes and skin.
Muscles ache. But the desert leaves more than blisters and fatigue, it leaves memories burned into the heart. It leaves friendships forged in dust and sweat.
Stage 3 wasn’t just an ending. It was a transformation. And the desert? It watched silently, as always, as each runner a piece, a small tiny piece and part of the vast, magnificent puzzle that is MDS 120 Jordan.
And each runner will carry it with them forever…. It leaves a new version of themself, one they didn’t know existed.
The second stage of the MDS 120 Jordan began today under a sky that could stop you in your tracks. As the sun climbed over the horizon, it lit up Wadi Rum in gold and fire. Towers of sandstone blazed in the morning light, and the vast silence of the desert seemed to breathe. It was a moment of calm before the suffering.
At 0700, the main field set off, hundreds of runners stretching out across the sand in a single wave.
An hour later, at 0800, the top-50 elites launched from the start line, eyes locked on the far horizon and the distances ahead. Three choices lay before all runners: 20 km, 40 km, or 60 km. No matter the distance, no one got an easy day.
By mid-morning, the heat was already rising fast. There’s no mercy in the Wadi Rum sun. The sand, soft and shifting, sucked at every step. It was a grind from the first kilometer. For many, fatigue from Stage 1 was already in their legs. Now, it became a question of how much pain they could manage, and for how long.
But the landscape kept pulling people forward.
Runners wound through canyons where shadows clung to the rock walls, through open plains that shimmered in the heat, and over dunes that seemed to have no top. The colours changed constantly, red, orange, ochre, bone-white. Every climb gave a new view, and every descent brought another challenge.
Support points were lifelines. Blue and orange jackets worked hard to keep everyone hydrated, motivated, and upright. Every shaded tent was a brief oasis. Words of encouragement were exchanged in multiple languages, often between competitors who had just met but already felt like teammates. That’s how it goes out here: shared struggle, instant connection.
For those tackling the 60 km, it was a full day and night affair. As the sun dropped, temperatures fell fast, and headlamps started flickering on across the desert. The sound of footsteps on sand and the occasional burst of laughter carried in the darkness. Some ran together in quiet partnership; others moved solo, locked in their own internal battles.
By midnight, many had reached the bivouac, collapsing into sleeping bags or cheering others in. But the course was still alive. The final competitors came in just after 0100, nearly 18 hours after the first wave set off. There were hugs, tears, and a level of exhaustion that only the desert can deliver.
It was a brutal day. But it was also unforgettable.
Wadi Rum tested everyone, their legs, their lungs, their minds. But it gave something back too: the raw beauty of this land, the solidarity of the competitors, the deep satisfaction of pushing past limits. Stage 2 didn’t just challenge people. It changed them.
A rest day brings and opportunity to re-charge, and stage 3 brings more kms, more heat, more unknowns. The reward, a medal and memories for a lifetime.
Wadi Rum sleeps under a silent sky, and every runner who crosses the finish line , whether first or last, has earned the reward.
Wadi Rum, a land that looks like another planet but punishes like the real world. This year, close to 600-runners from 31 countries are taking on the MDS 120 JORDAN – a three-stage ultra through the desert, spread over four days with one crucial rest day. With a choice of three ´distances, 70km, 100 km, or 120 km – but no matter the number, the journey starts the same way: in the scorching, silent furnace of Wadi Rum.
Welcome to Wadi Rum
This desert is not just scenery, it’s a character in the race. A vast, cinematic expanse of red sand and jagged rock, Wadi Rum, also called “The Valley of the Moon” – feels ancient and otherworldly.
Think towering cliffs, sand that grips your shoes like quicksand, and a horizon that never seems to get closer. It’s a place that doesn’t care how well you trained.
The silence is thick. The beauty is brutal. And from the first step, they feel it: this is going to be tough.
The Numbers Behind the Madness
This year’s field is as diverse as it is determined:
• 600 competitors
• 55% women—a powerful showing in an event known for pushing limits
• 93% are first-time MDS runners
• Youngest runner: 18-year-old – Charles
• Oldest: 74-year-old – Gunard
They’re backed by a lean but formidable race organization team:
150 staff, including 25 medics on the ground, constantly monitoring, assisting, and ready for anything.
Stage 1: 27.4 Kilometres of Reality Check
Day one hits fast and hard. Stage 1 is 27.4 km, but under the Jordanian sun and over Wadi Rum’s unpredictable terrain, it feels twice that.
The stage includes two checkpoints:
• CP1 at 8.5 km
• CP2 at 9 km
The land between them is rugged, and the gap is designed for course management and medical observation. Smart racers use both to fuel, hydrate, and recalibrate.
The course itself is a ruthless sampler platter: loose sand, sudden inclines, rocky outcrops, and heat that seems to rise from beneath your feet. There are no spectators, no shortcuts, no illusions. Just you, your gear, and the next checkpoint.
The Desert Doesn’t Care
The heat, the terrain, and the weight of self-sufficiency slows everyone down. You carry everything: water, food, gear, your doubts.
Every climb feels like three. Every descent threatens your knees. Sand invades everything. By midday, the only thing that’s soft is your resolve—if you let it be.
Shared Solitude
Despite the isolation, there’s camaraderie. Strangers share conversations. Encouragement is shouted in a dozen languages. Some falter, some stop. You need help, someone will stop for you.
The bivouac after Stage 1 is rough but welcoming. Yellow WAA tents flap in the wind. Meals are cooked with shaky hands. But the feeling is clear: we made it. One day down. Two to go.
What This Stage Really Means
Amazingly, 93% are running an MDS event for the first time, Stage 1 maybe a rude awakening? It tells the truth, immediately and without apology: this may (will) hurt. But, if it was easy everyone would do it!
And for all 600, from the youngest to the oldest, it’s a reminder that the desert doesn’t care about your splits. It rewards grit, humility, and the will to keep moving.
IAN CORLESS 