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The Eye of the Sahara Ultramarathon – A Review of the First Edition

2024 saw the first edition of my new yearly event, the Eye of the Sahara Ultramarathon. An event that I want YOU GUYS to join. How was it? How did it come about? Why should you join? Let’s see.

So, After spending 11 years visiting every country in the world, when I finished it, I felt a big hole in my life. I didn’t know what to do. I’d been so focused on a goal for so long that now that goal was finished, I was expecting elation and pride and feeling like a hero, but actually I felt a couple of things.

One, I realized that if I can do it, anyone can do it. More on that later. And two, what now? What next? So then I had a year or so of depression. Looking back now, I can say that, sadly but confidently, drinking too much, overweight, overeating, then crazy behavior, and all the rest.

Finally, I ended up starting a quest to climb the seven summits and reach the North Pole and the South Pole, become the first person to complete the Ultimate Explorers Grand Slam, blah, blah, blah. And I did so, but when I finished that goal, I was ready and prepared emotionally for the what next, the beauty is in the struggle, and I learned that finally.

Why start these events?

What I learned from all that, from the disastrous first finishing of a big goal, to undertaking the journey of my second goal, and appreciating the journey more so than the final conclusion. I realized all the clichés are true, that the beauty IS in the journey, and another cliché, never get so busy making a living that you forget to make a life (thanks Dolly).

And that’s the whole point really. The medals, the finish lines, the bucket list ticks, they all fade fast. But the process, the people you meet along the way, the stories you carry, the laughter in the hard moments, the lessons, even the tears and scars, that’s the stuff that sticks. That’s the life I want to keep choosing.

More importantly than that, I learned that pushing yourself, truly pushing yourself to goals that you thought are too big for you, goals that you see other people achieving, the beauty and the struggle of reaching those goals and the pain and the sacrifice that’s involved in the training and the costs and the logistics to achieve those goals is something deeper than meditation. Is’s so scary and chaotic and painful but coming out the other side after you’ve reached that big goal you love yourself so much. Whereas with the every country thing I just shut my mouth through the journey, and carried on expecting the medal around my neck to be everything. And it wasn’t.

The beauty was found in the whole experience and I wanted to share that learning with other normal people like me. and the best way I can see to do that is to push other people to go beyond their comfort zone to set bigger goals than they think is possible. To also suffer and struggle, alongside me, to reach those goals but then ultimately to complete them and love themselves more on the other side.

That’s basically now my dream for the rest of my life. Through my 40s and then hopefully through semi-retirement. I want to run these events that people will get to know themselves better and achieve things they thought that weren’t possible. And then come out the other side with the sky being the limit. That’s not to mention the people you meet along the way and the bonds you build when you suffer in these places together. So lo and behold the Eye of the Sahara Ultra Marathon was born, as was the Highway to Hell, Ultra Cycle in Turkmenistan. And 2 more events coming soon.

2024 was the first of them. We recently just finished the ultra cycle, and now 2025 Edition 2 of the eye of the sahara ultra marathon is just 100 days away!

Why Mauritania?

I chose Mauritania as the home of my first endurance event because life should be an adventure. We’re fortunate enough to have passports. Flights are affordable, maybe a little pricey these days, but manageable. Let’s go and see other cultures, eat different foods, and feel alive.

Sure, the Sahara is easy to access from Morocco or Egypt. But that’s the “Chinese fridge magnet Sahara. Tour buses, cliché camel rides, Instagram filters. Mauritania is the real Sahara. It’s the one you dreamed of as a kid: nomadic tribes, endless horizons, friendly smiles, and not another foreigner in sight. Just a raw, untouched, welcoming country.

And then there’s the Eye of the Sahara. Visible from space, wrapped in mystery, whispered about as the possible site of the Lost City of Atlantis beneath it (ask Joe Rogan!). Imagine running right through the middle of that—three ultramarathons, three days, across one of the most surreal landforms on Earth. There’s nothing cooler than that.

Most people waste their lives staying comfortable, never pushing themselves. This is the opposite. This is about leaving the comfort zone far behind. The running is tough. The weather is tougher. The landscape is brutal. But Mauritania’s Sahara? It’s pure perfection for an adventure.

AND THEN of course, you can celebrate by hitching a ride on the Iron Ore Train, one of the most epic travel experiences on the planet. So 3 ultras, in one of the least visited countries in the world, followed yb the train? Seriously? Best event on the planet!

Designing the Event

I’ve been dreaming about creating ultra events for almost ten years. I learned so much about myself through those long, lonely ultramarathons I’ve done on my own. I never really entered official events. I would just think, I’ll run 100k tomorrow, and then I’d run it.

Out there in the pain and the angst, you work through so many demons in your mind. You’re stuck, all alone, and you have to face yourself. I wanted to share that with people because it’s so transformative. You come out the other side stronger, clearer, and more prepared. You know what you want, you see the mistakes you’ve made, and you start to figure out how to fix them. It’s really amazing.

So designing the event was a case of wondering how far or how long it should be. Anything over a marathon is an ultramarathon. A marathon is 42 kilometers, 26 miles. If we did 50 kilometers, that’s technically an ultra. But that’s not long enough. I wanted people to really feel the burn, because the reward on the other side is completely linked to the suffering you put in.

I already had strong ties in Mauritania. I run trips there every year. I’ve got a friend there, like a brother, who I’ve known for over a decade. We work together all the time. I trust him and he’s super smart. So I thought, what’s the coolest thing I can do in Mauritania?

The Eye of the Sahara. Cool.

I pulled up Google Maps and checked the nearest town to the Eye. It was about 100 miles away, 150 kilometers or so. Perfect. That’s 50 kilometers a day, three ultramarathons in three days, from the Eye of the Sahara back to civilization.

Camp:

Recruiting the First Runners

Unfortunately, the way the world works is that if you’ve got good marketing, it’s easy to sell a crap product. But the other way around, if you’ve got a good product and poor marketing, it still won’t sell tickets.

The point is that sales and marketing is everything. Creating the event was the easy bit. The real question was, how am I going to shift tickets? I need people crazy enough to visit one of the least visited countries in the world, and crazy enough to run a bloody ultramarathon there… or actually three ultramarathons in three days. That’s very niche.

So when it came to recruiting my first runners, I didn’t try to sell tickets to strangers. I just messaged people who had been on past blog trips with me, plus a few of my closest friends. I said, do you want to come and do this mental first edition thing? You’ll be supporting me, and of course you’ll get to experience it yourself.

With that, we managed to get seven runners plus me, so eight of us in total. I lost about ten grand on the event, because that’s nowhere near enough tickets to make it financially viable. But it was incredible. The testimonials from those lads, the experiences we shared, the memories created, it was worth every penny I lost.

My Training and Preparation

I was always going to compete in the first edition. Not to try and win it, but to be there with everyone else. If I’m asking people to show up and suffer, I have to put my money where my mouth is. I can’t talk about how transformative ultras are, how the pain is worth it, and then not run myself. So I knew I’d be lining up for those three ultras in three days.

I had some confidence because I’d already run ten, maybe fifteen, ultramarathons before. I know that when things get tough, I can battle through and limp to the finish line. But experience doesn’t mean you can skip training.

I’m based in Chiang Mai in Thailand, so I started small. At first, I was running five and ten kilometres, but to be honest I’ve done that multiple times a week for years anyway. Then I built it up—ten, fifteen, twenty kilometres—and before long I was basically running a half marathon every other day around the mountains.

Chiang Mai has a famous mountain called Doi Suthep. It’s about twenty-two or twenty-three kilometres up and down, with six to eight hundred metres of elevation gain. I made that climb two or three times a week. My biggest training session was going up and down twice, around forty-five kilometres in total.

All in, I trained for about three or four months. I felt healthy, I enjoyed it, and it kept me off the booze. I burned so many calories that I could eat all the chocolate and sweets I wanted. More importantly, I felt positive, free of mind, and ready.

Was it enough training when the big day came? Yes, I think it was. I felt good on the start line, and that’s all you can really ask for.

Day-by-Day Race Diary

Days 1, 2 and 3:

And then, before you know it, the Day of Reckoning arrives. Training was one thing. Selling those first seven tickets was another. But on top of that, I still had to actually organize the bloody event.

That alone was 12 months of phone calls and endless meetings. A year out, I was back and forth to Mauritania to make sure everything was lined up. I even sent a team out to the Eye of the Sahara to measure the route. The logistics had to be bulletproof.

We set a big red flag every single kilometre so runners could always see the next marker on the horizon and never get lost. We had emergency GPS devices. We built water stops every five kilometres stocked with dates, orange juice, and as much water as you could drink. We had a team of twenty or thirty local guys and half a dozen SUVs patrolling the desert to keep everything moving.

Once the groundwork was done, the runners started arriving. December 4th, 2024. We had our first group dinner in Nouakchott, the capital. The next morning, at four or five a.m., we piled into the SUVs and drove twelve hours straight into the Sahara. We slept that night in the last guesthouse on the edge of civilization.

By day three, after another short drive, we finally reached the Eye of the Sahara itself. Camp was waiting for us there. That day was just for resting, sorting our gear, and preparing ourselves mentally. The next morning, the real adventure would begin.

RACE DAY 1 (Day 4)

Normally when I run trips the first night is all fun, adventure, stories, booze, laughs, and smiles. But the nervous energy before something like this is completely different. Everyone’s freaking out about their gear. Did we train enough? Did we bring the right stuff? People are swapping training stories, but if I’m honest, confidence levels were low.

That’s the reality of an ultra. You don’t know the pain you’re about to feel until it hits you. Only my best mate Anthony and I had ever run an ultra before. For the other six guys, they had no idea what they’d signed up for. Sure, we’d had group calls and WhatsApp chats, but that’s not the same as facing the Sahara. They didn’t know the exact pain that was coming, but they did know it was going to be something.

Day one was 56 kilometres, about 30 miles. We started just before the Eye of the Sahara, ran straight into it, crossed right through the middle, and then carried on another handful of kilometres to reach camp on the other side. As the organiser, watching that unfold was spectacular. We were the only people out there, hundreds of kilometres of desert in every direction. When we crossed the Eye itself, a sandstorm kicked up. The air turned orange with sand swirling around us as we ran. Unreal visuals. Everything I dreamed of was coming true to be honest.

The team spread out naturally. Some ran alone, some in pairs, some in threes. At the start, in the first 10, 20, 30 kilometres, people chatted together. But after that, the pain sets in. You might still run near someone, but maybe 20 or 30 metres apart, each in your own head, just grinding it out.

Max, my German friend, finished first in on day 1 in around six hours. Our American runner was the last home, about twelve hours. The rest trickled in between. Back in camp we gathered in the dinner tent, taping feet, treating blisters, applying aftersun, eating, laughing through the pain. That’s when the bonds really formed.

The logistics worked perfectly too. We had twin tents with proper camp beds, so recovery was good. By the end of day one, all eight of us had finished successfully. It was beautiful.

RACE DAY 2 (Day 5)

Day two is when reality really kicks in. A lot of people have run marathons before. Some have even done an ultra. But most have never woken up the next day and done it all over again. That’s the true struggle.

Anyone who’s run a marathon, an ultra, even a half marathon knows the feeling the next morning. You’re limping to the bathroom, limping to the kitchen to grab a snack, legs stiff and heavy. Now imagine someone saying, “Fancy another 30 miles today, through the desert?” That was our reality.

We woke before sunrise while it was still cool, had breakfast in the mess tent, and then lined up together. The camaraderie was strong. Fist bumps, hugs, good lucks. But this time it was a ginger limp to the start line. Yesterday there were stretches, star jumps, warm-ups. Today it was grimaces and stiff legs.

The day ahead was another 54 kilometres, the flags shining every single kilometre. Personally, I felt pretty good. I was buzzing that the event was going smoothly, so I told myself this would be the one day I’d try to push. I shot out quick, and the other lads set off at their own pace.

The first five kilometres were hell. The second five felt kind of okay. By ten or twenty kilometres, the adrenaline kicks in and you think you might just get through this. But as always, you hit the wall. The last stretch was a brutal battle, dragging myself to the finish.

I think I came in around six hours again. This was the first day someone dropped out. One guy quit, but the other seven of us finished strongly. We pushed hard to beat the sunset, and we managed it.

RACE DAY 3 (Day 6)

That night the energy shifted. There wasn’t much chatter, just silence. We were suffering together, and the bonds grew stronger without needing many words. You’d look someone in the eye and know exactly what they were going through. There’s something kind of beautiful about that.

Then came day three. If you’ve made it to the end of day two, you’re going to finish Day 3. No matter how bad it is, when you wake up and hit that start line, you know tonight you’re done. That thought carries you.

Of course, by now your body is screaming. Blisters everywhere, sunburnt skin, dehydration even though you’ve downed electrolytes nonstop. Your watch is suggesting 80 hours of recovery and you’re giving yourself eight. IT band, calves, groin – everything hurts. But if you’ve made it this far, you’re getting through.

Was it hard? Brutal. I barely took four photos the entire day, which tells you everything. Even I was deep in it. But then you hit those final kilometres. One. Two. Three. You see 157 tick over to 158, then 159, then finally 160 out of 160. That’s true paradise.

The relief, the joy, the pride. hard to put into words actually. You think back to how close you were to quitting in training, how close you were to quitting during the race itself, and then suddenly you’ve done it. Three ultramarathons in three days. For everyone apart from Anthony and me, it was their first ever ultra. Now they’d done three back-to-back. Those lads can do anything now. And they believed it themselves. Thats’ the gift they’ve given themselves by doing this. The sky is the limit.

Their feet were wrecked, blisters bursting, blood everywhere, but the smiles on their faces were unstoppable. Pure joy. Pure relief. Pure heaven. That’s what it’s all about.

The Iron Ore Train (Days 7-10)

For most people, coming to Mauritania is already the adventure of a lifetime. You see the country, you hopefully ride the epic iron ore train, and that alone could be the highlight of your year, maybe even your decade. It’s one of the coolest travel experiences you can ever have.

Now imagine how my guys felt doing all that after finishing the Eye of the Sahara Ultramarathon. We had one day of rest, and then we climbed aboard the longest train in the world. Nearly a thousand kilometres through the desert, perched on top of wagons piled with iron ore, nothing above us but the stars of the Sahara. All night long we rolled through the desert, still buzzing from what we’d achieved.

We linked up with my other group who were in Mauritania on tour but hadn’t done the ultra. It was brilliant to mix the two crews, swapping stories and sharing laughs. Honestly, it was one of the best trips of my life.

We were all limping around like cripples, but every limp was earned. And then that train ride… it’s something you can’t really put into words. The pictures and videos will never capture it. You have to do it yourself. Unreal.

The Runners’ Stories and Camaraderie

Let me just share with you a message from one of the boys, this says it all….

Finishing and Reflection

I’ve never been more sure about the power of ultra endurance events and proper goal setting. And I don’t mean soft goals. I mean goals that terrify you, that push your boundaries so far beyond what you think is possible.

People often set a goal to run a 5k or a 10k, but the truth is you’re capable of so much more. We all are. Set a big goal and smash it. That’s where the real growth happens.

There aren’t many bigger goals than the Eye of the Sahara Ultra, and I’ve never been more convinced that events like this change lives permanently for the better. You suffer in training. You suffer brutally during the race. But the rewards last forever.

Because once you’ve been through it, you wake up every day knowing just how much you’re capable of.

Crossing that final finish line was pure relief, pride, and disbelief all at once. To have created this thing from scratch and then to have actually completed it myself felt surreal. But the best part wasn’t me crossing. It was standing there and watching every single one of the lads come through. Limping, blistered, bleeding, broken, but still smiling. That moment was better than any summit or medal.

I have done Everest. I have rowed the Atlantic. I have run countless ultras. And yet seeing this group, 6 of who had never run an ultra before in their lives, drag themselves to the finish after three days in the Sahara… that feeling was right up there with all of it.

The Future of the Eye of the Sahara Ultra

I hope this was just the beginning. 8 runners in year 1, but the vision is bigger. Id love to see a hundred people lining up at the Eye of the Sahara in 10 years’ time. I want this to be one of those bucket list ultras that people talk about in the same breath as the Marathon des Sables or Badwater.

I will try to bring in more sponsors, grow the support crew, and make it slicker each year while still keeping that raw and authentic feel. The Eye will never be about mass tourism or gimmicks. It will stay wild, tough, and unforgettable.

If you’re reading this and you think you have it in you, then come and join us. Follow along, sign up, and get ready to suffer.

JOIN ME HERE:

eyeofthesaharaultramarathon.com

Conclusion

For me, the Eye of the Sahara Ultra will always mean more than any race. I created it, I organised it, and I ran it. To see it go from an idea in my head to a real thing that changed people’s lives was one of the proudest chapters of my life. I know that’s all very self indulgent, but it’s how I feel.

Ultramarathons are brutal. They break you down and build you back up. They show you who you really are. And this one, in Mauritania, in the Eye of the Sahara itself, was as transformative as they come.

And now I’ll say the same immortal words every ultra runner has said at some point in their life. Never again. Until next time.