Stage 3 of the MDS 120 Morocco and the MDS Handi 2026 delivered everything that makes the Marathon des Sables so special: challenge, determination, teamwork and unforgettable emotion.
The day began with two starts. At 05:30, the bulk of the MDS 120 field and all MDS Handi teams set off into the Moroccan landscape. An hour later, at 06:30, the top 50 runners launched their pursuit from behind, adding an extra layer of excitement to the stage.
In one of the most inspiring moments of the race so far, the MDS Handi teams were outstanding from the very beginning. Charging through the early kilometres and into the most technical section of the course after CP1, they found themselves at the front of the race. It was a remarkable display of determination, commitment and teamwork. Every obstacle demanded complete trust between team members, and when opportunities arose, MDS 120 runners stepped in to help, pulling on the “Hope Ropes” or assisting through difficult sections using the framework and specialised handles. It was a powerful demonstration of the spirit that defines the Marathon des Sables.
Conditions offered some relief compared to previous days. Cooler temperatures, increased cloud cover and even the occasional drop of rain provided welcome respite. But this is still the Sahara, and whenever the sun broke through, the heat quickly reminded runners where they were.
At the front of the MDS 120 race, Rachid El Morabity once again controlled proceedings with the confidence and experience of a champion. Behind him, Louis Godemon and Selim Deterpigny worked hard in pursuit, but El Morabity remained firmly in command throughout the day.
The women’s race produced an exciting battle. Laura Dumortier set an aggressive early pace and led the charge during the opening stages. However, Sylvie Van Baelen patiently closed the gap, moved into the lead and then steadily extended her advantage to secure a memorable stage victory. Marie Kirton completed the podium after another strong performance.
Across the other race formats, victory in the MDS 100 went to Maxime Kerisit and Kristel Verheyen, while the MDS 70 honours were claimed by Erk Renes and Ilenia Taurian.
Yet the results only tell part of the story.
For the athletes of MDS Handi, Stage 3 was far more than a race. It was a journey into the unknown, filled with challenges that tested both body and mind. The 16 teams each brought something unique and special to Morocco, creating moments that inspired everyone fortunate enough to witness them. Their courage, resilience and collective spirit transformed the day into something far greater than competition.
As the finish line came into view, emotions overflowed. Medals were placed around weary necks, tears of joy mixed with laughter, and memories were created that will last a lifetime.
What a race. What an adventure. And for MDS Handi, a truly historic chapter that will remain in the hearts of all who shared the experience.
The fifth edition of the MDS Morocco 120 and the second edition of the MDS Handi began in spectacular fashion today, with runners greeted by a stunning desert sunrise and the promise of an unforgettable adventure ahead.
With high temperatures forecast throughout the day, organisers made the decision to bring the start forward by 1 hour and 30 minutes, sending participants on their way at 06:30 rather than the planned 08:00. It proved to be a wise move. Even before dawn, the warmth of the Moroccan desert could already be felt following a very hot night where sleeping bags remained largely untouched across the bivouac.
As the first light spread across the landscape, more than 600 participants gathered at the start line. There was excitement, nervous energy and anticipation in equal measure. For some, this was the beginning of a long-awaited personal challenge. For others, a chance to return to the desert they love. Six hundred people, six hundred stories, all heading into the same vast and beautiful terrain.
Stage 1 covered 24 kilometres for the runners tackling the 70 km, 100 km and 120 km race formats, while the 16 MDS Handi teams faced an 18.1 km course. Three checkpoints were positioned along the route, offering welcome opportunities for water, support and encouragement as temperatures steadily climbed.
The MDS Handi teams once again sat at the heart of the event. Their determination, teamwork and spirit inspired everyone around them throughout the day. Through the “Hope Ropes” initiative, runners from the main race are able to join the effort and help propel the teams forward, creating powerful moments of connection across the course.
Adding an extra competitive element, each Handi team faced its own challenge before Checkpoint 2. Around 300 metres from the checkpoint, assisting runners stepped aside, leaving the Handi athlete to continue alone. Those who successfully completed the section independently earned a ten-minute time bonus deduction. It is a simple concept, but one that highlights determination, courage and personal achievement in a very special way.
At the front of the race, Morocco’s own Rachid El Morabity once again showed why he is known as the “Desert King”. Running with his usual calm authority, he claimed the stage victory in 2:03:46. Louis Godemon crossed the line next, 3 minutes and 12 seconds behind, while Selim Deterpigny completed the men’s podium at 5 minutes and 54 seconds.
The women’s race produced its own memorable story. Marie Kirton ran strongly throughout to secure the stage win in 2:39:55, but not without drama. In the closing kilometres, a two-inch thorn pierced her shoe and repeatedly stabbed her foot with every stride. Forced to stop, she carefully removed the thorn before continuing on her way. It was a small but powerful reminder that in the desert, even the tiniest obstacle can become a significant challenge. Good footwear matters.
Sylvie Van Baelen finished second, 5 minutes and 21 seconds behind Kirton, while Laura Dumortier rounded out the podium a further 3 minutes and 23 seconds later.
The Handi teams were equally impressive. The team of Aubin Barillon completing the course in 02:16:47 – full Handi results (here)
As runners returned to the bivouac throughout the afternoon, the effects of the heat were clear, but so too were the smiles, stories and sense of accomplishment. Stage 1 delivered everything the desert is known for: challenging conditions, remarkable landscapes, personal battles and moments of inspiration.
It was a hot day. An inspiring day. And a fitting start to four days of racing in the heart of Morocco.
In Episode 259 of Talk Ultra, we speak with Fred Abramowitz, Race Director of Run Rabbit Run, following the landmark announcement that the RRR ultra will award a $100,000 prize purse to both the men’s and women’s winners in 2027 and 2028.
The news has sent shockwaves through the ultra running community, sparking excitement, debate, and plenty of questions about what this means for the future of the sport. Is this the next evolution of professional trail running, or does such a significant prize purse risk changing the very essence of ultra running?
Fred joins us to explain the thinking behind the decision, the goals of the initiative, and how Run Rabbit Run hopes to elevate the profile of ultra-distance racing. We discuss athlete opportunities, increased media attention, sponsorship, competitive depth, and the potential benefits for the sport as a whole.
Of course, with any major change comes criticism. We also delve into concerns around professionalism, competitive balance, accessibility, race culture, and whether large cash prizes could create unintended consequences for grassroots trail and ultra events.
It’s a wide-ranging and thought-provoking conversation that explores both sides of one of the biggest stories in ultra running today. Whether you think the announcement is a game-changer or a step too far, this episode offers valuable insight into the motivations behind the move and what it could mean for the future of the sport.
Join us for Episode 259 of Talk Ultra with Fred Abramowitz. The good, the bad, and everything in between.
Henriette’s story is one of obsessive discipline, deliberate practice and a willingness to reject the conventional path. Competitive, fiercely self-reliant and prepared to put in the work when nobody is watching. But there is much more to her story than results.
From obstacle course racing and an early connection with Tromsø that involved her honeymoon, through races such as the Ring of Steel, skyrunning and the World Championships, Henriette steadily built her way into the elite of the sport. A period of serious health issues interrupted that progression, but her return produced a remarkable run of performances – including 6th at OCC and CCC, 6th at Lavaredo 80K, victory at Templiers 47K, a winter Bob Graham Round record of 17:55 across 106 km and 42 peaks, 3rd at Trofeo Kima, victory at UTS 50K, and back-to-back Transgrancanaria wins in 2025 and 2026.
But the results are only part of the conversation.
We talk about leaving a corporate career as an auditor to become a full-time runner, the role Norway has played in shaping her – from the Romsdal mountains and local races to brutal weather and hugely varied terrain.
We also get into some of the less comfortable subjects in elite sport: women’s health and RED-S, body shape and what ‘healthy’ actually means, sponsorship and the freedom to make your own choices, shoe selection, common sense and decision-making, and the pressures surrounding UTMB and the modern ultra-running landscape.
Henriette is refreshingly honest, no BS and unafraid to speak about subjects that many athletes avoid. Through the Ascend Trail, Arc’teryx, her new partnership with Raide Research and the Sufferfest film, she is also building something beyond simply being a professional runner.
An outlier, certainly. But perhaps more importantly, someone prepared to question the rules, take responsibility for her own decisions and find her own way through the sport.
Episode 257 dives deep into the remarkable journey of Yngvild Kaspersen, fresh off her commanding 2026 CCC victory — a pacing masterclass that made her the first woman ever to win the race twice.
We rewind to 2015, exploring her beginnings in skyrunning, the technical foundations that shaped her style, and the early promise that hinted at greatness. Yngvild opens up about balancing medical studies with elite racing, and the long‑standing question of identity: doctor who runs, or runner who is a doctor.
We revisit her post‑Covid struggles, the breakthrough CCC win in 2023, and her emotional chapter at Western States. Then we break down her flawless 2026 performance — patience, precision, and a late‑race surge that defined the week.
Finally, we look ahead: Western States 2027, UTMB 2028, and the next evolution of one of mountain running’s most intelligent competitors.
A decade of growth. A champion at her peak. A conversation not to miss.
Often described as the world championships of trail and mountain running, it remains the sport’s biggest stage. For elite athletes, it is the pinnacle. A race that demands years of discipline, dedication and unwavering commitment.
Of course, every runner on the start line faces the same mountains and the same distance. But at the front of the field, there is often far more at stake than a finish time. Careers, sponsorships, reputations and legacies can all be influenced by a single day in Chamonix.
The pressure is immense.
At the same time, the sport continues to evolve. Races are getting faster and faster. Training standards are rising. Recovery windows seem smaller. The margin between success and failure is increasingly narrow, and for those who aspire to a top-10 finish at the sport’s most competitive events, operating close to the edge is becoming a necessity rather than a choice.
It is a delicate tightrope to walk.
Every year, some of the sport’s biggest names fail to make the start line. Injury is nothing new. Katie Schide’s absence through long-term injury is one example. Others arrive hoping their final preparations will be enough, only to realise in the closing stages that the risk outweighs the reward. The withdrawals of Kilian Jornet, Jim Walmsley, Tom Evans and Ruth Croft significantly changed what may have been one of the strongest UTMB fields ever assembled.
Then there are the factors no training plan can fully control.
Illness swept through parts of UTMB week. Henriette Albon’s stomach issues before the start were one example, but as the races unfolded it became clear others were also walking a fine line between competing and recovering. Some started with hope and determination, only to discover very early that 2026 was simply not their year. Adriana Moser was one such example.
And then there is a different question altogether. Can athletes still have multiple peak performances in a single season?
Several elite runners arrived in Chamonix after already producing exceptional results elsewhere in 2026. Vincent Bouillard and Courtney Dauwalter had both raced and raced well earlier in the year. Yet UTMB, raced at unprecedented pace and intensity, may have represented one challenge too far. Not because they lacked ability, but because even the best athletes have limits.
The same thought applies to Francesco Puppi and Jennifer Lichter. Both have enjoyed remarkable seasons and both finished in the top five at the 2026 CCC. Outstanding performances by any measure.
But had they arrived completely fresh, fully recovered and without the physical and mental demands of Western States in their legs, would they have finished on the podium? Could they even have won?
The answer is impossible to know. Yet the question itself feels increasingly relevant.
From the outside, the life of a professional trail runner can seem ideal. Your passion becomes your profession. You travel the world. You compete in extraordinary places.
But when passion becomes a job, expectations inevitably follow. Results matter. Contracts matter. Visibility matters. The need to perform creates pressure.
Respected coach Paul Lind once said, “You can only take water from the well so many times.” It’s a simple statement, but perhaps one that resonates more strongly than ever.
At UTMB 2026, Ben Dhiman ran an astonishing time 18:16, and two other athletes also broke 19 hours. Yes, the course was adjusted, but the significance remains. Times once considered unimaginable are now becoming reality. Dhiman prepared for UTMB meticulously and in the process, ran Transvulcania and 90km Du Mont-Blanc as tune ups, he placed 5th and 2nd respectively, I wonder, was there disappointment at not winning both, or, more importantly, where they just stepping stones to the big W at the one that mattered?
Trail running is changing.
The image of ultra running as a relaxed community of dirtbags, hippies and adventurers still exists and, importantly, remains part of its soul. But at the elite level, the sport is becoming increasingly professional, increasingly competitive and increasingly unforgiving.
Miao Yao offers a fascinating glimpse into this evolution.
Earlier in 2026, she won CDH at HOKA Val d’Aran in 13:04:34 without using poles. Her reasoning was simple. She now views races around the 100-kilometre distance, CCC included, as fast-running events rather than traditional mountain ultras. To prepare, she focused accordingly. She even used Sierre-Zinal, a brutal 31-kilometre mountain race, as a speed-focused tune-up before CCC.
A former CCC champion herself, Miao went on to battle fellow former winners Toni McCann and Yngvild Kasperson for third place, later admitting it was a day of real struggle.
That, perhaps, says everything.
The barriers are moving.
Just as the four-minute mile, the two-hour marathon and now the sub-20-hour UTMB once seemed out of reach, the moment something is proven possible, expectations shift. Athletes adapt. Coaches adapt. Training adapts.
The new standard becomes the starting point.
So where does the sport go in 2027?
Many elite athletes have already responded by racing less. One or perhaps two major targets have become the model. Everything else is planned around arriving at those races healthy, fresh and fully prepared.
Yet exceptions still exist.
Rachel Entrekin’s 2026 season has been extraordinary. Victory at Coldwater Rumble 100, third place at Chianti behind Courtney Dauwalter and Yngvild Kasperson, outright victory at Cocodona 250, and then second place at UTMB.
It is difficult not to admire such achievements.
But it also raises another question.
Is it sustainable?
Rachel may be uniquely gifted. Some athletes appear capable of recovering and performing at levels others simply cannot match. Yet history repeatedly shows that athletes who burn brightest often do not burn longest.
That is not criticism. It is observation.
Perhaps the biggest story from UTMB 2026 is not who won, who lost or who withdrew.
Perhaps it is that the sport has reached another turning point.
The demands are higher than ever before. The competition is deeper than ever before. The rewards are greater than ever before.
But so too are the risks.
As trail running enters this new era, the question may no longer be how fast athletes can go.
Instead, the more important question might be this:
How long can they sustain it?
And in the pursuit of ever-faster times and ever-greater performances, what is the true cost of repeatedly going back to the well?
Yngvild Kaspersen’s win at CCC 2026 remains one of the most elegant demonstrations of restraint, patience, and self‑trust the sport has seen. By contrast, Ben Dhiman’s UTMB victory, was a masterclass in pressure, assertion, and deliberate intent. Together, they form a perfect study in contrast – two champions, two approaches, both equally valid, both equally brilliant.
The Yngvild Paradox: Doctor and Runner, Runner and Doctor
Yngvild has always carried a dual identity. A doctor. A runner. Two demanding worlds that often collide. She has openly admitted she struggles to decide which one defines her more – whether she is a doctor who runs or a runner who is also a doctor. That tension has shaped her career as much as her training.
Her trajectory since CCC 2023 has been anything but linear:
• 2025 Western States – 5th place, a breakthrough performance.
• 2025 CCC – DNF, a reminder of the sport’s brutality.
• 2026 Chianti – a brilliant run, showing her spark was still there.
• 2026 Western States – stopping just 2 miles from the finish, agonising, heartbreaking, human.
These are not the results of someone lacking talent. They are the results of someone balancing two vocations, two callings, two versions of herself.
CCC 2026: The Masterclass in Letting Go
Her approach to CCC was almost shockingly relaxed. No pressure. No expectation. She wanted to enjoy the day, run freely, and finish with a smile. That was it.
Yngvild ignored the front, she settled into her happiness zone, she ran her own race.
By Champex-Lac, she was outside the top 10 and 23 minutes behind the lead. Any analyst would have written her off. Any commentator would have assumed the podium was gone.
But Yngvild wasn’t analysing. She wasn’t commentating. She was running.
And then she switched on Pac‑Man mode.
Her legs felt great. Her stride opened. Her confidence grew.
One by one, she began to eat up the runners ahead – just like Pac‑Man clearing a screen. The gap shrank. The race changed shape.
Ahead, Miao Yiao and Toni McCann, both former CCC champions, were locked in a fierce battle. It looked like a two‑woman race.
Until suddenly, Miao Yiao came into view. Yngvild passed – calm, composed, assuming nothing.
Then Toni appeared. Yngvild passed again – sharing a handshake, then time‑trialling to the finish. Nothing was taken for granted, she learnt that lesson at Chianti – head down, push on and work hard.
It wasn’t just a negative split. It was a clinic in pacing, a study in control, a lesson in emotional discipline.
One of the greatest second‑half performances the sport has ever witnessed.
Ben Dhiman: The Opposite Path to the Same Summit
Dhiman’s UTMB victory was built on a completely different philosophy. He laid his cards on the table early. He placed pressure on himself. He embraced expectation. He ran with intent, aggression, and clarity.
Where Yngvild floated, Dhiman forced. Where Yngvild released pressure, Dhiman applied it. Where Yngvild trusted the day, Dhiman shaped it.
Both approaches worked.
Both produced champions.
Both produced masterclasses.
Two Victories, Two Lessons
Yngvild teaches the value of patience, joy, and trusting your body.
Dhiman teaches the value of assertion, self‑belief, and embracing pressure.
Yngvild shows that sometimes the best race comes from letting go.
Dhiman shows that sometimes the best race comes from leaning in.
Together, they remind us that there is no single blueprint for success in trail running. The sport is too wild, too unpredictable, too human for that.
The Takeaway
Whether you run like Yngvild – calm, patient, joyful – or like Dhiman – bold, committed, intense – the lesson is the same:
Find the approach that lets you be fully yourself. Then trust it all the way to the finish.
The sport has changed. It is faster, more professional, more demanding than ever before. The margins are razor‑thin, the pressure unrelenting, and the calendar packed with races that push athletes to their absolute limits. In this new era, even the best in the world may only get one truly exceptional race in a season – one day where preparation, physiology, psychology and luck finally align. Yngvild Kaspersen and Ben Dhiman reached their peaks through completely different philosophies, yet both reveal the same truth: in a sport this intense, brilliance is rare, fragile, and fiercely earned.
For years, UTMB has been the gravitational centre of trail running, the place where the sport’s limits are tested, stretched, and occasionally shattered. But every so often, a performance arrives that doesn’t just raise the bar; it rewrites the expectations of what is possible. Ben Dhiman’s 2026 victory is exactly that moment.
To understand the scale of his achievement, you have to rewind the clock.
The Sub‑20 Hour Question
Not long ago, the idea of breaking 20 hours at UTMB felt mythical. Pau Capell famously attempted it during the Covid era, running his solo “Breaking 20” project. It was bold, audacious, and – at the time – borderline unimaginable.
Then Jim Walmsley ran 19:37:43 on the full UTMB course.
Just like the two‑hour marathon barrier, once one athlete proves the impossible is possible, the entire landscape shifts. Suddenly, sub‑20 wasn’t a dream; it was a requirement. If you wanted to be in the top 10, you needed to be flirting with 19-hours X minutes.
In 2025, Tom Evans pushed the frontier again, clocking 19:18:58 on an adjusted course. And right behind him, a certain Ben Dhiman arrived in Chamonix in 19:51:37, announcing himself as a future problem for anyone with podium ambitions.
2026: A Race Reshaped Before the Start
UTMB 2026 was chaotic before a single step was taken. Kilian Jornet withdrew. Jim Walmsley withdrew. Tom Evans withdrew. The race lost three titans in quick succession, but the field was still stacked – Vincent Bouillard on the back of a CR at Western States, Baptiste Chassagne, Hannes Namberger, and a dozen more capable of winning on their day.
But the absence of the usual giants did something subtle: it changed the psychology of the race. The script was no longer (kind of) predictable. The hierarchy was no longer fixed.
And into that vacuum stepped Ben Dhiman.
He didn’t hide. He didn’t hedge. He didn’t offer the usual “we’ll see how the legs feel.” He said he was here to win – not with arrogance, but with the calm certainty of someone who had gone away after 2025, studied the problem, and rebuilt himself. Word from his camp suggested he had increased his climbing volume by 30%, sharpening the one area he felt had cost him the win the previous year.
He was on a mission.
A Tactical Masterpiece
What unfolded over 18 hours was one of the most controlled, intelligent, and fearless performances UTMB has ever seen.
The Early Breakaway
Dhiman ran with the lead pack through the opening hours, but around La Balme he found himself alone after speedy transitions in the feed zone. Pushing alone he expected the race to catch up, they never did. By Les Chapieux he had already carved out a meaningful gap over Baptiste Chassagne.
This was not a reckless move. It was a calculated one.
The 90km Solo Time Trial
Once in front, Dhiman committed. For more than 90 kilometers, he ran alone — no pack, no drafting, no psychological shelter. Instead of letting the solitude eat at him, he used it as fuel, stretching the elastic bit by bit until it snapped.
Hammering the Descents
His biggest weapon? Downhill aggression. He attacked descents with intent, choosing specific sections to steal time. It was biomechanical efficiency married to bravery – a runner who trusted his legs, his preparation, and his instincts.
The Broken Pole
On Grand Col Ferret, disaster struck: a trekking pole snapped. Lesser athletes lose minutes; Dhiman lost none. He went “Gandalf style” with a single pole, kept his rhythm, and still produced an incredible split time from the summit to Champex-Lac — under two hours.
Crew Efficiency
Dhiman spent 9 minutes 23 seconds in aid stations, this is arguably one of the most impressive and key stats. Just like in Ironman, when transition is a sport in itself, Dhiman has looked at speedy no nonsense transitions as free time – incredible!
A Year-on-Year Transformation
His splits compared to 2025 tell the story better than any adjective, of course, one has to keep in mind the adjusted course, nonetheless, impressive reading.
Les Contamines: +3:53
Courmayeur: +31:26
Champex-Lac: +1:05:04
Vallorcine: +1:25:31
Finish: +1:35:08
This wasn’t a marginal gain. It was a reinvention.
And then came the number that will echo for years: 18:16.29
Not a course record – the route was adjusted – but even with conservative corrections, his performance sits somewhere in the 18:50 to 19:10 equivalent range. That is off-the-scale running.
Trailwithben on Instagram HERE provides a nice breakdown and analysis, he estimates the time to be 18:55
The Benchmark Has Shifted Again
Dhiman didn’t just win UTMB 2026. He has changed the sport and most certainly has changed the UTMB for future years.
The question “Can anyone break 20 hours?” is gone. The new reality is harsher, sharper, and more electrifying:
To win UTMB in 2026, you must run sub‑20. To contend for the podium, you needed to aim for 19:30. And in 2027, the frontier may be sub‑19.
That is wild progression – but it’s also the natural evolution of a sport where athletes learn from each other, build on each other, and chase the ghosts of performances that once seemed impossible.
Ben Dhiman has become one of those ghosts.
His 2026 run wasn’t just a victory. It is a statement, a recalibration, and a warning to every elite trail runner preparing for 2027. And notably, when asked by Dylan Bowman on Runfreetrail ‘Can you go faster?’ the answer had no pause, ‘yes!’ – Dhiman comments that running solo allows the pace to drop in the latter stages, had he had someone pushing him, there was more to give… And on that note, roll on UTMB 2027!
I am in the 60-69 age category, when did that happen?
My mind rejected the numbers every time someone said it.
You are in the 60-69 age category?
Sixty was someone else. Men in magazines. Men sitting on benches talking about what they used to do. Not me!
Inside, I still have the enthusiasm of a runner. However, my knees, unfortunately, disagree.
Years of running have gradually been negotiated away. First the long races disappeared. Then the hard intervals. Then the weekly mileage declined. The extra kilograms arrived quietly, one at a time, not enough to alarm me, but enough to make every climb a little steeper.
Running has given way to mostly hiking. It wasn’t surrender. At least that’s what I told myself.
I am still out on the mountains, still moving through the forests and across the ridges. I am strong, bloody stubborn Abelone will say, and I can hike for hours. I can still suffer. Importantly, I can still stand on summits that many younger men never reached.
Did I believe there was a plateau ahead. A place where the decline would stop. A place where fitness would maybe even return?
The graph in my mind always flattened out eventually, even if it never quite returned to where it had once been.
Then came Hylja Vertical 600.
Five km’s with six hundred meters of climbing – on paper, a race perfectly suited for me! No downhill to trash the knees, just up and the possibility to get in the red zone, stay there and push all the way to the line.
Short enough to hurt. Long enough to expose the truth.
And the truth not only came but hurts…
As I climbed, younger runners drifted away from me immediately. Some sailed past. Others simply maintained a pace I could no longer reach or dream of. I wasn’t surprised, I would be a fool to have expected otherwise.
My heart worked harder than I remembered. My lungs were in my mouth. It hurt in a way that was no longer reassuring. My legs answered more slowly than they once had despite my poles facilitating forward momentum. What had once been my strength, now felt like stubborn determination.
There was no humiliation in my run externally. No catastrophe. I finished. But inside, there was a quiet revelation that no matter how much I fool myself with positive thoughts, my good times are gone.
Standing there, breathing heavily and staring back down the mountain, I realized that for years I have been misreading the story of aging.
I had thought of my decline as a temporary descent followed by a shelf of stability. Perhaps even a small rise if I worked hard enough.
But the trails behind me in Hylja told a different story.
There will be good days and bad days ahead. Strong adventures and weaker ones, and yes, a few surprises, perhaps.
But the overall direction will never reverse now. The line will continue downward until the end.
These are not new thoughts, my mind has struggled for the last two years with my decline after an injury while running in Spain. I was aware of the lack of running, the increased pain, the gain in weight, but, I could hide the truth somewhere with an illusion of positive outward display – the Hylja finish line changed that and cemented the decline as a fact on a result sheet.
There is no need to keep mourning the man I have been. The older I get, the better I was.
The runner in my thirties has gone.
The runner in my forties has gone.
Even the runner in my fifties is now slipping into memory.
But the hiker standing on the mountain is still here. Still moving. Still climbing. Still capable of wonder.
I looked out across the valley from Hylja, the mountains of Rondane in the distance. The same mountains I had fastpacked through with Abelone just a month ago – covering 208km’s in 5-days – the landscape unchanged and indifferent to my age.
For the first time, I understood that life had quietly shifted from becoming to appreciating. When I was young, every run was an investment in a stronger future, a better and faster me.
Now, is every hike an acknowledgement of a diminishing one?
Does that make each step more valuable?
Am I no longer running toward a better version of myself?
I guess, I am simply grateful to still be on the trail. Loving the landscape. Loving the isolation. Loving the adventure. Where time and distance actually means nothing.
I will never outrun aging, and neither will you! The goal is to keep moving long enough to learn how to live and accept it.
Balloons, Heat and Triumph: MDS Cappadocia 2026 Concludes in Spectacular Style
The final stage of MDS 120 Cappadocia delivered everything that makes this race so special: breathtaking scenery, challenging terrain, soaring temperatures, and the emotional reward of crossing the finish line after days of adventure through one of Turkey’s most remarkable landscapes.
Stage 3 saw all remaining participants tackle 25km with 732m of elevation gain, a fitting finale to a race that has tested endurance, resilience and determination from start to finish.
The day began with a moment that few runners will ever forget. As dawn broke over the bivouac, the Cappadocian sky filled with dozens of hot-air balloons. Floating silently above the camp, some drifted remarkably close to the runners, creating an unforgettable atmosphere before the start. It was a scene that perfectly captured the magic of Cappadocia, where natural beauty and human adventure combine in extraordinary ways.
While the early morning offered relatively cool running conditions, relief was short-lived. As the sun climbed higher, temperatures quickly rose and another hot day unfolded across the rugged Turkish landscape. The opening kilometres featured an early mountain pass that immediately challenged tired legs before runners descended into a series of valleys, where flowing trails offered opportunities to find rhythm despite the growing heat.
With two checkpoints providing vital support along the route, competitors pushed onward through a course that showcased the very best of Cappadocia’s unique terrain. The final kilometres delivered one last gift: the spectacular Love Valley. Surrounded by the region’s famous rock formations and dramatic scenery, runners experienced a fitting conclusion to an unforgettable journey.
At the front of the race, Sergio Turull produced a powerful performance to claim the men’s stage victory in 2:13:41, while Maryon Pennec continued her exceptional race with another commanding win, crossing the line in 2:52:31.
Selim Deterpigny emerged victorious in the men’s MDS 120 competition with a cumulative time of 11:21:21, while Maryon Pennec claimed the women’s title in 13:15:53 after three days of consistent and impressive running.
In the MDS 100 category, Julie Lafaille topped the women’s podium in 11:50:30, while Patrick Paraire secured victory in the men’s race with a time of 11:20:05.
The MDS 70 category saw Ana Turull take the women’s title in 8:33:42, while Fatih Topçu claimed victory in the men’s competition with a time of 7:54:29.
Yet beyond the podium places and finishing times, MDS Cappadocia is about something deeper. It is about overcoming moments of doubt during long climbs, managing the relentless heat, sharing experiences with fellow runners, and discovering what is possible when mind and body work together toward a common goal.
Over three unforgettable stages, competitors crossed mountain passes, navigated valleys sculpted by time, and ran through one of the world’s most iconic landscapes. They experienced highs and lows, moments of struggle and moments of exhilaration. Every finisher earned not only a medal but also memories that will last a lifetime.
As runners crossed the final finish line and received their hard-earned medals, there was a shared sense of achievement throughout the bivouac. The challenge was complete. The journey through Cappadocia’s extraordinary terrain had come to an end.
The balloons may have drifted away, but the memories of MDS Cappadocia 2026 will remain, etched as deeply as the valleys and rock formations that made this race such a spectacular adventure.
