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.
The fourth and final stage of MDS Trek Morocco is complete. What began as a journey into the vast, unforgiving desert has ended in a loop of triumph, every step earned, every moment remembered.
Today’s stage started in darkness. Head torches cut thin beams through the pre-dawn silence, the soft crunch of footsteps the only sound as the group moved out into the unknown once more. The air was cool, but everyone knew what was coming. The early warmth was already hinting at another scorcher in the making.
There were two distances again today, different paths, same glory. Whether you chose the longer route or a shorter challenge, the destination was the same: the finish line, and the medal that waited beyond it.
The route offered a final taste of everything the Sahara had thrown at participants over the past days, rolling ridges of sand, winding gorges, and a long, flat, rocky push to the finish. Hard, hot, and humbling. But also deeply rewarding.
Trek has been a shared adventure.
A test of resilience, not speed. MDS Trek Morocco made space for everyone, young and old, first-timers and seasoned explorers, fast hikers and slow-but-steady souls. There were no clocks to beat, only limits to expand.
It was also safe. Every step of the way, the organisation was tight, the logistics seamless, the support unwavering. Even in this remote, elemental landscape, the structure and security allowed people to push themselves without fear.
More than anything, MDS Trek was about togetherness. There were moments of solitude, yes, but also laughter, encouragement, teamwork. Bonds were built under starlit skies and blistering suns.
This trek wasn’t just through the Sahara, it was into a deeper understanding of what we’re capable of when we move with purpose, and when we move together.
The Sahara gave everything. So did the people who crossed it.
This was MDS Trek Morocco: a final stage, a victory loop, and an unforgettable finish.
There are stages that challenge you, stages that move you, and then there are stages like Stage 3 of MDS TREK Morocco, the kind that embeds itself deep in your memory and never lets go.
This wasn’t just another section of the trek. It was the spiritual centre of the entire experience. A 48-hour symphony of sweat, sand, starlight and self-discovery, this was the Sahara in its rawest, most breathtaking form.
Part One – Into the Desert Before Dawn
It began in the dark, well before sunrise. Head torches flickered to life across the bivouac like constellations on the move. The air was still, cool with the promise of what was to come. This was no ordinary start. There was a choice, two routes: the shorter 17.3km or the longer 30.6km. Two paths leading into the vast unknown, with each step breaking the silence of the Moroccan morning.
And then came the sand, golden even in the first light. There’s nothing quite like descending those soft sandy giants as the world slowly glows around you.
Laughter echoed, legs burned, hearts raced. The sand gave way to rocky outcrops, and then again to long stretches of sunlit solitude.
It was terrain that demanded focus: shifting sands, jagged stones, climbs that tested lungs, and descents that punished quads. And moments of pure magic, a Camel with a calf just days old.
As the sun climbed, so did the temperature, creeping past 40°C, pushing toward the high 40s by midday. Every kilometre was earned. The trek moved through narrow mountain passes, broad empty plains, and wind-rippled dunes that swallowed sound and offered only the rhythm of your own breath in return.
This wasn’t just physical endurance. It was mental stamina. This was the Sahara asking, “How much do you want this?” And the answer was in every footstep forward.
Star Night – A Sahara Festival Beneath the Milky Way
Then came the magic.
As the heat softened and the sky turned amber, the group reached the remote desert bivouac, a temporary outpost far from civilisation, wrapped in silence, surrounded by dunes like a protective embrace.
Tents were set up quickly, offering some shelter from the still-warm evening, but it was clear that tonight, few would sleep indoors.
Dinner was served under open skies, a catered desert banquet with the kind of flavour that only comes after a day like that.
Music played. Conversations sparked. Laughter carried on the breeze. And as the sun finally slipped away, the desert lit up in a way that defied belief.
This was no ordinary night.
This was Star Night.
The sky ignited with stars, sharp, bright, infinite. The Milky Way stretched across the sky like a brushstroke of light. It was cinematic. Surreal. And yet, utterly real. Most didn’t even bother with sleeping bags; the night air was warm, comfortable, and inviting. Mats were laid out in the sand, and people lay back, letting the stillness of the Sahara soak in.
This wasn’t just a rest stop. It was a memory being etched in real time. A Saharan festival of connection, nature, and awe. And despite the fatigue, few slept early. Why would you? Nights like that are rare, even in dreams.
Day Two – Sunrise, Sand, and the Final Push
As dawn crept in, the desert glowed again. Another split route awaited, this time 17.5km or 22.5km. But legs were lighter. Spirits were high. The starlit night had done its work. The air still held a bit of cool, and the sun rose gently, casting long shadows over the rippling sands.
The trail wound through more epic Saharan landscapes, twisting through low valleys, across ancient dry riverbeds, and up onto ridges with views that stole the breath before the heat could.
By late morning the thermometer climbed past 48°C. Brutal, yes. But somehow also beautiful. Because every drop of sweat, every pause in the shade, every step forward became part of something larger.
There was camaraderie. People encouraging one another. Sharing sips of water. Pointing out landmarks. Moving as individuals, yes, but always part of a bigger whole.
And then, after hours of pushing through shimmering heat and relentless terrain, the finish line of Stage 3 appeared, home bivouac, familiar now, yet somehow different. Changed. Just like every person who crossed into it.
Why Stage 3 Can’t Be Missed
Stage 3 isn’t just a segment of MDS TREK Morocco. It’s a story within the story. It captures everything the trek stands for: resilience, beauty, challenge, community, and wonder.
This was the essence of the MDS spirit : raw, bold, unforgettable. It tested bodies, ignited minds, and opened hearts. Trekkers will not just remember Stage 3, it will forever be that stage.
Stage 2 of MDS TREK Morocco was short on distance, 11.7km or 15km, but packed with everything that makes this trek unforgettable: surreal landscapes, emotional highs, and the raw beauty of the desert revealed under first light.
The day began with the kind of sunrise that stops you in your tracks. As the first rays hit the dunes, the Sahara shifted from cool blue shadows to warm, golden brilliance.
The route kicked off along a dramatic ridge, a high line with sweeping views in every direction, one of the most stunning stretches in MDS history. Sand seas rolled endlessly below, broken only by the occasional rocky outcrop or camel track winding off into nowhere.
This was not a stage to rush. With no time pressure, participants could move at their own pace, soaking in the magic of the moment.
The terrain was varied, soft dune underfoot in some places, firmer ground in others, but the challenge was consistent: the heat. Even early in the day, the sun hit hard. It was a reminder that, out here, progress is earned.
At Checkpoint 2, the route split. Those craving a longer push could opt for the 15km course, while others stuck with the shorter 11.7km track. It didn’t matter which option they chose, both offered the same sense of accomplishment and wonder.
Whether climbing another dune or resting in the shade at the finish, there were smiles all around.
Stage 2 wasn’t about distance or pace. It was about presence, being fully alive in one of the most remote, beautiful places on Earth.
It was about the silence, the sweat, the sunrise. And for many, it was the moment they truly felt the spirit of MDS: the freedom, the challenge, and the deep, personal joy of moving through the Sahara under their own power.
A very special day and one that will stay etched in memory long after the sand is shaken from their shoes.
There’s a certain image that comes to mind when you hear “MDS” – blistered feet, rationed calories, endless dunes, and the punishing solitude of the Sahara. But the second edition of MDS TREK Morocco flips that narrative. It’s still tough, still raw, still proudly Saharan, but this isn’t the Marathon des Sables you’ve heard whispered about in ultra circles. This is MDS with a difference.
This is adventure, elevated.
A New Kind of Desert Challenge
Set across seven nights deep in the Moroccan desert, MDS TREK isn’t about suffering. It’s about connection – to the land, to others, and to yourself. Designed for trekkers who crave the thrill of the Sahara without the demands of full self-sufficiency, this edition delivers a rich, physically challenging, and surprisingly comfortable desert experience.
Forget dehydrated meals eaten crouched in the sand. Here, you’re fed three real meals a day. Forget sleeping shoulder-to-shoulder under a makeshift tarp, you’ll rest in spacious, tents, roomy enough to stretch and breathe. Need a shower? There are actual showers. Want a drink? There’s a desert bar. And after a long day on your feet, you can stretch out with sunset yoga or sink into a post-stage massage.
A Race for Every Level
What sets MDS TREK apart isn’t just the comfort – it’s the accessibility. You don’t need to be an ultra-runner or a desert-hardened veteran to take part. This is a multi-stage trek, not a race to the death.
Each of the four stages is offered with two distance options, allowing participants to challenge themselves at their own pace. Want a longer push? Go for the full route. Need a bit less? Opt for the shorter version. The emphasis isn’t on beating the clock; it’s about the experience.
But make no mistake, this is still the Sahara. The terrain is rugged, the climbs are real, and the heat is relentless. The environment demands respect. But it also rewards you with something almost spiritual in return.
Stage 1: Into the Furnace
The adventure began under a blazing sun. Temperatures soared as 350 trekkers laced up for the first leg of the journey. The day’s route offered a choice: 15.6 km or 22.7 km, with both options weaving through a landscape as brutal as it was breathtaking.
Soft, shifting sands made even the flat sections a test of will. Then came the tough climbs, sandy ascents that drained the legs and quickened the pulse.
There were sections of technical rock and loose scree, keeping everyone alert. But in between the hardship came moments of wonder: endless panoramas, wind-sculpted dunes, towering jebels casting long shadows across the desert floor.
It wasn’t easy. But that wasn’t the point. This was beauty wrapped in brutality – a reminder of how the desert strips you down, and in doing so, shows you something pure.
And perhaps the most defining feature of the field? More than 60% of participants were women. This wasn’t just an event—it was a movement.
Evenings of Contrast
Post-stage life in MDS TREK is where the magic deepens. After pushing their limits under the sun, participants returned to a camp that was more oasis than outpost.
There’s shade. There’s cool water. There’s time to kick off the boots, breathe, and reset.
Then, as the desert begins to exhale and the day gives way to dusk, trekkers gather for sunset yoga – a quiet, grounding practice led against the backdrop of endless sky. Others opt for a massage under canvas, loosening the knots earned over each step.
And later, with dinner shared and bellies full, the real depth of the event reveals itself: evening talks and lectures that inspire, educate, and connect. Whether it’s stories from desert veterans, lessons on resilience, or reflections on personal growth, these sessions remind everyone that MDS TREK isn’t just about distance. It’s about transformation.
A Community Like No Other
The mix of people is part of what makes MDS TREK so powerful. Solo adventurers. Groups of friends. Veterans of the classic MDS alongside first-time desert explorers. Young and old. Every background. Every story. This is a space where no one is left behind, and every victory, every climb, every kilometre is cheered like a medal.
MDS TREK Morocco isn’t about breaking records. It’s about breaking through.
To comfort.
To challenge.
To something unforgettable.
Whether you’re a seasoned adventurer or simply someone looking for your next big reset, this is the one.
There are moments in life that will etch themselves into your memory with brutal clarity, the sting of the sun, the whip of the wind, the bite of fatigue. And then there are moments that transcend all that. Moments that shine because of what it took to get there. Today, that moment came. MDS 120 Morocco 2025 is complete. But this finish line didn’t come easy.
The Rest Day That Wasn’t
After the double blow of Stage 1 and 2 under an unforgiving sun, participants staggered into the bivouac with blistered feet and salt-crusted skin, ready for a day of rest.
But the Sahara had other plans. Instead of recovery, they got afternoon chaos: a wild sandstorm that tore across camp like a runaway train. The sky turned thick and orange. Tents collapsed. Gear went flying. People huddled in whatever shelter they could find, eyes wrapped in buffs, trying to breathe through the dust. It lasted for hours. When it finally passed, silence hung in the air, but it wasn’t peace. It was exhaustion.
This was not the rest day anyone hoped for. But there were plenty of moment of relaxation before the chaos – lots of sleeping, adding entries in journals.
and towards the end of the day, as the wind calmed, MDS organisation offered a treat – no longer a cold can of Coke – today, fresh fruit and ice.
At 0400, camp began to stir. Bleary-eyed runners rose in darkness, fumbling with head torches and gear. The temperature hadn’t dropped. The air felt thick and warm, like the desert was still holding onto yesterday’s rage.
By 0530, the first runners were off. Headlamps cut through the pitch, bobbing along as the desert slowly took shape in the dim light. At 0630, the top-10 runners launched like arrows, chasing the dark down.
Then, something no one expected happened. It started softly. A few drops. Then more. Rain. Actual rain falling from a sky that hadn’t offered a single kindness in days. No one ducked. No one cursed. No one complained. Smiles broke out, quiet and stunned at first, then wide and wild. Some raised their faces to the sky. This was a blessing. A strange, surreal gift. The desert, finally, exhaled.
Stage 3 unfolded under gentler skies. The sun eventually returned, but not with the same vengeance. The course was still brutal – sand, rocks, one climbs that never seemed to end, but the worst of the heat was gone. Spirits rose with every kilometre. Runners, ragged but relentless, began to believe the finish was real.
One by one, they crossed the line. Some ran with everything left in their legs. Some limped, leaning on poles. Some clutched hands with teammates or strangers who’d become family over theirshared suffering. And when that medal was placed around their necks, the tears came freely. No shame in them, only pride, release, and the overwhelming relief of completion.
There were cheers. Applause. Laughter. People hugging like they never wanted to let go. Cameras flashed. Medals clinked. Bodies that had been pushed to the limit stood a little taller.
Behind every finish was an army in blue and orange.
The MDS team, the volunteers, medics, logistics crew, water distributors, checkpoint staff, tent builders, camp runners, sweepers, and everyone else in between—made this journey possible.
They were the quiet hands who carried everyone forward. The steady voices in the storm. The ones who handed out water in 47°C heat, packed and re-packed tents, tended to blisters, and kept this chaotic caravan moving across an unforgiving land. Their work wasn’t glamorous. It was relentless. And it matters more than words can say.
MDS 120 Morocco is more than numbers. More than distance. It’s more than the desert.
It’s about finding out what lives under your skin when the comfort is stripped away. It’s about running into the teeth of the wind and not turning back. It’s about community, people who arrive as strangers and leave as family. It’s about believing you can, even when everything hurts, and then proving it.
No one who stood on that start line is the same at the finish. And that’s the point.
So to every runner who dared to take this on: you are fierce, you are strong, and you’ve earned every second of this glory. This medal means more because you fought for it.
MDS 120 Morocco is complete. The desert tried to break us. But we endured. And that’s the story you’ll tell forever.
Stage 2 of the MDS 120 Morocco 2025 delivered a punishing reminder of what this race is all about: endurance, resilience, and respect for the elements. With three distances on offer – 20km, 40km, and 60km – runners set out early under revised start times (0630 and 0730 for the top contenders) after stage 1’s extreme heat forced organizers to adapt. It was a smart move. By midday, temperatures soared beyond 45°C, turning the day into a battle of grit and survival.
The day began deceptively calm. The early morning was still and silent, with no wind and nothing to offer relief from the sun’s growing intensity. As the hours ticked on, the heat built steadily, baking the desert landscape and punishing any runner who dared to underestimate it.
This wasn’t just another day in the desert. It was a brutal test across unforgiving terrain – soft sand, rugged mountain passes, exposed plains, and technical ridgelines. There were no shortcuts. No hiding from the sun. Just a long, scorching path to the finish.
In the longest and toughest of the three routes, Rachid El Morabity did what he does best, dominate. The Moroccan ultra running legend took charge of the 60km stage, navigating the heat and terrain with trademark efficiency. His command of desert racing was evident, even in conditions that forced many to slow, stop, or drop out.
But this wasn’t just about speed — it was about survival. Pacing, hydration, and heat management became as important as footwork. Every decision counted.
On the women’s side, Julia Villanueva had a standout performance. Pushing through the worst of the afternoon furnace, she took the lead overall, ahead of Véronique Mueller-Berberat. Villanueva’s effort was both smart and strong, a calculated drive through the toughest part of the course when many were simply trying to hang on.
In the 100km event, which saw runners take on 40km in Stage 2, Lorick Buckin emerged as the new leader. He now holds a slim margin ahead of Louis Godeman, setting up an intriguing contest for the final day.
For the women, Elaine Caron-Gaudet rose to the challenge, building a lead over Charlotte Van Strydock. Both showed real composure in the heat, but Caron-Gaudet’s consistent pace gave her the edge on the day.
The 70km competitors ran their second stage under the same conditions, with Farid Alouani pulling ahead in the men’s standings. On the women’s side, Louise Marcant now leads the pack — a reward for measured effort across chaotic conditions.
This wasn’t a stage that wrapped up neatly by afternoon. It dragged into the night, with the last runner crossing the line at 23:04 – nearly 17 hours after the first starters. For many, it was less a race and more a trial by fire.
Whether running 20, 40, or 60km, every participant faced the same relentless sun, the same unshaded miles, and the same internal struggle: keep moving or give in. Water checkpoints became lifelines. The heat was no longer an obstacle; it was an adversary.
Respect the Heat. Respect the Race.
Stage 2 of MDS 120 Morocco 2025 will be remembered for one thing: its raw brutality. The course was hard. The heat was harder. And yet, hundreds pushed forward. Not everyone finished with a personal best, but finishing at all was a feat of determination.
This wasn’t just another day on the trail, it was the kind of stage that defines an event. One that strips things down to basics: survive, adapt, endure.
Stage 3 looms next. The bodies are tired. The desert, as always, is waiting.
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IAN CORLESS 