Mens_Health_UK_March_2017

94 MEN’S HEALTH MENSHEALTH.CO.UK

My brain is sending words to my mouth

but they aren’t coming out properly. The

left side of my face is numb with cold, my

lips feel like they’ve been glued together

and I’m slurring badly. I know there’s a

huge ice-topped mountain off to my left

but it is hidden behind a veil of cloud and

mist kicked up by a fierce, blinding wind.

Visibility is now down to less than 10m,

and it is increasingly difficult to keep

sight of the little blue flags marking the

safe route of passage against the vast and

disorienting white canvas. The whole

area is an active glacier; between here

and the finish line there are crevasses

big enough to swallow a large vehicle.

Two hours in and with more than half the

distance still to go, the wisdom of running

a marathon in the world’s coldest, bleakest

territory is seriously questionable.

But for those of a certain temperament,

the chance to run 26.2 miles in the

planet’s last true wilderness is too great

to pass up. Taking place at the foot of

the Ellsworth Mountains, participants

in the annual Antarctic Ice Marathon

must compete with a wind chill of -20°C

and a max wind speed of 25 knots. It is

not so much a race, then, as the ultimate

endurance event. And at £12,000 a head,

only serious competitors need apply.

INTO THE WILD

Irish ultrarunner Richard Donovan ran

in the Antarctic for the first time over a

decade ago, as part of a quest to run seven

ultramarathons on seven continents

in a year. One of those was the first and

2015, only 47 finished, with the slowest

suffering more than nine hours on the ice.

The race is an adventure even before

you get to the start line. My journey is a

three-flight expedition from London to

Punta Arenas in southern Chile, followed

by a four-and-a-half-hour flight to Union

Glacier and a temporary expedition camp

600 miles from the South Pole, then a

final stretch in an Ilyushin IL-76TD –

a utilitarian modified Russian transport

plane in which seats are bolted to the floor

and life rafts fastened to the walls. Landing

on a blue-ice runway is inherently riskier

than landing on asphalt.

At the camp a short 4x4 drive away,

rows of brightly coloured, two-person

clam tents dug into the ice sit dwarfed by

the peaks that surround them. Life in the

camp centres around the main dining

tent where staff provide daily briefings

and weather updates, as well as hot meals,

beer and wine. But the evening before the

race, alcohol is the farthest thing from

our minds as my fellow competitors and

I desperately try to acclimatise. During

the Antarctic summer (November to

02

“Sweat cools

on your body

and raises

your risk of

hypothermia”

I’M

STRUGGLING

TO SPEAK.

A COLD

RECEPTION

02\ About 8300

miles from London,

the modified Russian

transport plane

touches down on the

ice. Passengers hold

their breath and offer

prayers as they land

only race to the

South Pole, which

he won. Where

most would have

packed away the

thermals and

dined out on such

achievements,

Donovan saw

opportunity,

establishing

the Antarctic Ice Marathon in 2006.

Over a decade later, running deep

inside the southernmost continent

remains an exclusive experience. Around

40,000 tourists visit each year, but the

vast majority remain on cruise ships that

skirt the coast. Few make it to the interior

and just over 50 will run the marathon.

Of the 52 competitors to run the race in PHOTOGRAPHY: ANTARCTIC ICE MARATHON, ICEMARATHON.COM