Stage 1 of the 3rd Edition of MDS Cappadocia delivered everything that makes this race so special.
After several days of heavy rain, participants were greeted by blue skies, sunshine and rising temperatures as they gathered on the start line at 08:00 to experience the magic of one of Turkey’s most extraordinary landscapes.
The opening stage covered 25km with 747m of elevation gain and two checkpoints. While the weather had improved dramatically, the recent rain left sections of the course muddy and demanding, adding another layer of challenge to an already testing route.
The undulating course wound through the heart of Cappadocia, taking runners across open plateaus, along flowing single-track trails and beneath dramatic mountain vistas before passing through the iconic Rose Valley and arriving at the bivouac.
Throughout the day, competitors were immersed in a landscape unlike anywhere else on Earth, where ancient rock formations, vast horizons and centuries of history create an unforgettable backdrop for adventure.
All 400 participants were tested by the terrain, with an impressive 64% of the field made up of women. The diversity of the event was equally remarkable, with the youngest competitor aged 19 and the oldest 74, showcasing the universal appeal of the MDS spirit.
At the front of the race, Sergio Turull, winner of the MDS Ultra 100km in January, stamped his authority on the competition, dominating Stage 1 to claim victory in 2:24:45.
In the women’s race, Maryon Pennec delivered a commanding performance, crossing the finish line in 2:57:35, more than eight minutes ahead of her nearest rival.
Tomorrow, the challenge continues with Stage 2, where competitors will choose between 19.2km, 38.7km or 55.2km routes. By the end of the event, participants will have completed total race distances of 70km, 100km or 120km respectively.
A spectacular start to the week in Cappadocia, where world-class trail running meets one of the most breathtaking landscapes on the planet.
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.
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.
The last stage of MDS 120 Peru opened in darkness. Two waves, 0500 and 0600, slipped out of bivouac beneath a sky heavy with cloud and mist. It was a quiet start, almost private. Footsteps softened in the cool sand. Headlamps cut short beams through the haze. The whole scene carried a sombre tone, as if the desert itself was waiting to see who still had strength left to give.
Runners set off knowing this was it, 27.3km’s stood between them and the finish close to Laguna Grande, with the South Pacific stretching out behind Isla Independencia.
A straight line on paper. A world of effort in reality. After days of navigating sand ridges, barren slopes, and the weight of self sufficiency, the final morning felt like a test wrapped in silence.
Then the sun rose. Not with drama, but with intention, as if it had been saving its entrance for the moment runners needed it most. Light broke through the mist and transformed the mood. What had been grey became gold. What felt eerie turned warm. Shapes that were hidden came alive in full color. The desert opened up, and the coastline showed its depth. The day shifted from hard to hopeful in minutes.
The course unfolded in long stretches where the runners sat between sand and sea. To the left, dunes rising and falling with perfect curves. To the right, the ocean pulling at the shoreline with steady rhythm. The contrast was sharp. The calm blue of the Pacific. The pale heat of the desert.
The line of runners threading through it all. It was a route that looked simple but felt huge. Every kilometre carried its own personality. Hard packed sand, soft patches, wind-carved paths, open flats. The landscape changed often enough to keep minds awake, and beautiful enough to pull them forward.
The heat arrived just as the field settled into its stride. It wasn’t the fierce blowtorch heat of earlier days, but it was real. A reminder of where they stood. Yet the ocean breeze stepped in like a quiet ally. It never erased the challenge, but it kept it honest. It made the effort manageable, even enjoyable, for those who still had enough in the tank to look around and absorb the moment. The contrast between struggle and beauty gave the stage its edge. You work for every step, but you are rewarded at every turn.
Ahead waited the final finish line. The one everyone had imagined since the first briefing. Flags. A strip of sand. A medal that represents far more than distance. For some, it marked the end of 70km’s, for others, 100 or 120km.
The numbers matter less than what they represent. Hours of carrying everything you need. Days of managing effort, discomfort, nutrition, and doubt. Nights spent in bivouac with sand in their shoes and a story building in their mind. Every runner arrived with their own reason for standing on that line. Every runner left with their own version of pride.
Ocean, desert, island, sky. A backdrop that looked unreal even with tired eyes. The final meters felt both endless and too fast. Some ran strong. Some walked with purpose. Some cried.
Some smiled because crying would have taken too much energy. But when they crossed, the moment hit all the same. Relief, release, accomplishment. A medal placed on a dusty, sunburned chest always carries more weight than its metal. It is a statement: you finished what you started.
Peru helped deliver that feeling. This place is varied and magical in a way words only capture from the surface. Participants have now experienced it from within. They have lived at the pace of the terrain. They have watched light move across dunes and cliffs. They have felt the temperature swing, the sand shift, the silence settle. They have stared at landscapes that looked untouched and walked through areas shaped by wind, water, and time. The magic isn’t something you observe. It is something that gets into you until the experience becomes part of your memory, and part of your identity.
Self sufficiency sharpened that magic. Carrying your world on your back changes how you see everything. Meals taste different. Rest hits harder. Small wins grow bigger. Each person learned to handle the course with their own decisions. When to push. When to save. When to stop and fix something. That independence builds a kind of confidence that no one can hand you. You earn it step by step. You also earn the hardship that comes with it. Fatigue. Friction. Heat. Moments when your thoughts wander into the wrong corners. Yet that is where the race shifts from physical to personal. You leave with a stronger sense of who you are and what you can do.
Stage three completed that story. It tied the effort of previous days into one clean line toward Laguna Grande. A route that looked almost gentle from above but carried the full emotion of the journey. Those final twenty seven kilometers gave runners space to reflect. Not in a soft poetic way, but in the grounded, honest way that comes when you are tired but not broken. Many thought about why they came. Many thought about who helped them get here. Many thought about how they had changed over the past days. The finish line didn’t give those answers. It confirmed them.
What stands out from this stage is the sense of balance. Mist, then sun. Heat, then breeze. Hardship, then reward. Desert, then ocean. A final effort that closed the race exactly as it should have: with clarity. Runners saw Peru in wide angles and fine detail. They felt the country’s scale and its intimacy. They moved through places you cannot appreciate from a screen or a road. They earned every view and every step.
MDS 120 Peru is built on challenge, but it thrives on discovery. Participants discovered what the desert holds, what the coastline gives, and what they themselves can carry through heat, sand, and self doubt. They discovered that Peru is not only beautiful. It is alive, shifting, layered, and surprising in ways that stay with you.
Stage three delivered the finish, but more importantly, it delivered perspective. The medal is the symbol. The journey is the reward, the magic of Peru is something they will keep long after the sand is washed from their shoes.
Stage 2 of MDS 120 Peru asked for grit, not the kind you feel in your teeth after miles of soft sand, but the kind that keeps you moving when your legs and head start to argue with each other.
The day opened under a blanket of cloud and a bite of early chill. Soon enough the sky broke open, the sun pushed through, and the landscape shifted again.
Runners climbed hard from the start, working through rolling terrain that rose and fell like waves before the coastline even appeared. The sand stayed soft and stubborn, forcing every step to count.
What the course took in effort, it paid back in views. Wide open desert. Long lines of dunes. Light bouncing off ridges and carving shadows that stretched for kilometres.
Each distance had its battles, but they shared one reward.
The final approach dropped into Paracas National Reserve, where the South Pacific came into full view.
The coastline set the stage for the last push, a reminder of why runners sign up for days like this.
Stage 2 was tough. It was also unforgettable. The kind of day that reminds you you’re capable of more than you think when the terrain and the moment rise together. Tomorrow, a rest day…
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.
The 2025 MDS 120 Morocco roared to life this morning at 08:00 sharp under a glowing desert sunrise and clear, windless skies. Stage 1, a 25km loop through the heart of the Moroccan Sahara quickly reminded everyone why this race is not for the faint of heart.
With checkpoints at 8.5km, 12.4km, and 19.7km, the route unfolded across varied terrain that punished and amazed in equal measure.
The temperature soared early, peaking at 32°C in the shade—but shade was a rare luxury. Out in the dunes and rocky passes, it felt much hotter.
The stage featured 509 meters of elevation gain and four demanding climbs. The highest ascent, topping out at 837 meters. The route was a grind over soft sand, stony trails, and shifting ground that sapped energy and tested resolve.
Despite the brutal conditions, the elites wasted no time. As expected, Morocco’s own Rachid El Morabity cruised to victory in 02:22:37, showing his class and desert mastery once again.
On the women’s side, Véronique Mueller-Berberat delivered a commanding performance, finishing in 03:31:23.
Today was more than just a race, it was a trial by heat, sand, and elevation.
The loop offered sweeping views and raw Saharan beauty, but it demanded everything in return.
Tomorrow, the challenge deepens with Stage 2, offering three route options: 20km, 40km, or 60km.
Whether racers go short, long, or ultra, they’ll need to dig deep again—this desert doesn’t let up.
After the last-minute cancellation of MDS 120 Fuerteventura, the focus now shifts firmly to Morocco, where two cornerstone events are about to take center stage: MDS 120 Morocco and MDS Trek Morocco. Anticipation is high, the energy is back, and participants are ready for the desert challenge they’ve been waiting for.
What Are MDS 120 and MDS Trek?
The MDS 120 is a three-stage, four-day 10/100 or 120 km endurance race in the desert, modelled after the legendary Marathon des Sables but in a shorter, more accessible format. Athletes carry their food and gear, manage their effort in the heat, and experience the highs and lows of true desert racing, every kilometer tests both body and mind.
The MDS Trek shares the same landscapes and spirit as all MDS events but swaps competition for exploration. Designed for adventurers and walkers, it offers a supported trek across the Sahara, with each stage a new chance to discover the desert at a different pace. Participants are not self-sufficient, camp has more luxury and yes, even showers are possible!
The Journey Into the Desert
The adventure begins well before the start line. Most participants first gather in Marrakech, where the atmosphere is electric as athletes and trekkers from around the world converge. From there, MDS arrange transfers over the High Atlas mountains to Ouarzazate, often called the “door of the desert.”
Two hotel nights in a hotel with administration protocols, then the caravan heads deeper into the Sahara. The transfer to Bivouac 1 marks the true start of the experience: the desert horizon stretching endlessly, the iconic WAA tents awaiting, and the realization that the adventure is about to begin.
MDS 120 Morocco:
MDS Trek Morocco:
Looking Back at 2024
The 2024 editions showed the enduring strength of the MDS spirit. Morocco delivered outstanding editions and for MDS 120, there were some challenging climatic conditions with rain and flooding.
MDS Trek, was business as usual with classic Morocco weather. Participants took on dunes, jebels, and starlit nights. These moments reinforced Morocco’s reputation as the spiritual home of the Marathon des Sables.
Why 2025 Will Be Bigger and Better
In 2025, expect the same, but amplified. The organisers have doubled down on delivering unforgettable events, and the buzz suggests the community is ready for it. The MDS 120 Morocco will push competitors harder, while the MDS Trek will continue to offer an inclusive and inspiring path through the Sahara.
And Then Comes Jordan
Photo by Ian Corless
The adventure doesn’t stop in Morocco. Just weeks after the conclusion of the MDS Trek, the focus shifts east for MDS 120 Jordan, where runners and trekkers will swap the Sahara for the dramatic landscapes of Wadi Rum. It’s a quick turnaround, but for those chasing the full MDS experience, it’s the perfect continuation of a year dedicated to desert discovery.
The countdown is on.
Morocco awaits.
Interested in a Marathon des Sables event? More informationHERE
IAN CORLESS 