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.
MDS 120 Atlantic Coast returns for 2026 with a bold 2nd edition that invites walkers and runners alike to a three-stage, four-day self-sufficient challenge along Morocco’s Atlantic shores. Competitors will take on routes of 70, 100, or 120 kilometres in total, choosing their own distance while mastering the same demanding, coast-to-coast format that has become a hallmark of the MDS family. This year’s edition follows closely on the heels of the inaugural MDS Ultra, which wrapped up just a week earlier, making the Atlantic Coast event the season’s first MDS 120 race of 2026. Participants will gather in Agadir for a seamless pre-race briefing, then linger after the finish for a relaxed post-race stay in a comfortable hotel. The event is designed for all abilities, from dedicated walkers to seasoned runners, offering a true test of endurance without sacrificing accessibility.
Photo by Ian Corless
The coastline landscape promises a mix of open beaches, wind-sculpted dunes, and rugged hinterland, delivering diverse terrain without losing the sense of adventure that draws participants back year after year. By welcoming walkers right beside runners, the event reaffirms its commitment to inclusivity while preserving the challenge that marks the MDS family. For those who crave the feel of a grand adventure without crossing continents, the Atlantic Coast edition offers a perfect balance of scenery, camaraderie, and personal achievement.
Photo by Ian Corless
What to expect on the three stages
The race unfolds over three days of stage racing, spread across four calendar days. Each participant selects their total distance – 70, 100, or 120 kilometres – and completes the corresponding combination of stage lengths. The route design emphasises a continuous, day-by-day test of endurance, and self-reliance, with the sense of discovery growing as the coastline unveils new horizons.
Expect a demanding yet spectacular mix of beach stretches, coastal dunes, rocky outcrops, and inland trails that thread along the Atlantic fringe. While the sea air and sun contribute to the challenge, the route rewards rhythm, efficient pacing, and smart planning.
As a self-sufficient event, participants rely on well-marked courses and a robust safety net. Course marshals, remote safety teams, and medical support are in place, with clear guidelines on mandatory equipment and daily checkpoints. Competitors manage their own nutrition and water, planning for the day ahead while staying mindful of weather and terrain. This combination of independence and structure is what defines the MDS 120 experience.
Photo by Ian Corless
The MDS 120 Atlantic Coast is explicitly designed to welcome a wide spectrum of abilities. If you’re a walker who can cover long distances with steady pace, or a runner seeking a new endurance benchmark, this event offers a supported, self-sufficient platform to push limits in a beautiful, accessible setting. It’s ideal for first-time MDS 120 participants seeking a well-structured introduction without compromising the sense of accomplishment, as well as returning athletes looking for a coastal contrast to Sahara routes.
Why MDS 120?
Expanded inclusivity with a broader distance range: The 70/100/120 km options enable more participants to tailor the challenge to their current level while still delivering the iconic MDS 120 experience.
Photo by Ian Corless
A fresh Atlantic coastal route: The coastline around Agadir offers new routes that emphasise coastal beauty and wind-sculpted terrain, creating a distinctive mood and pacing compared with prior editions.
Photo by Ian Corless
Athletes travel to Agadir, where a hotel base serves as the staging ground for briefing and support, with a hotel stay also planned for post-race recovery and celebration. The overall package aims to balance challenge with comfort, giving participants a strong sense of community without sacrificing the rugged essence of self-sufficiency.
A celebration of pace, place, and persistence MDS 120 Atlantic Coast 2nd edition is more than a test of endurance. It’s a celebration of pace, place, and persistence, inviting a broad range of athletes to test their limits in a setting that blends the raw beauty of Morocco’s Atlantic edge with the camaraderie and strategy that define the MDS experience. The 70, 100, and 120 km distances let participants choose a level of challenge that matches their training, experience, and appetite for adventure, while the three-stage format over four days preserves the thrill of back-to-back days on the trail.
If you’re looking for a race that marries coastline drama with self-sufficient racing, where every kilometre earned is a personal milestone and every sunset over the Atlantic is a reward, the 2nd edition of MDS 120 Atlantic Coast in Morocco awaits.
Forty years after the first chapter of desert racing was written, a new one opened in the Merzouga region of Morocco with the inaugural edition of MDS ULTRA. This was not a return to the past, an acknowledgement of history but also a clear statement of intent – one race, two distances, no stages and no reset. Just a single, continuous effort across the desert, with runners committing to either 100 kilometres or 100 miles within a strict 40-hour time limit.
Set against the wide, open landscapes surrounding Merzouga, the race introduced a different way to experience the Sahara. Held in winter, the conditions reshaped the challenge. Days offered pleasant, manageable heat that allowed athletes to settle into rhythm and pace. Nights told a different story. Temperatures dropped fast, the cold biting through fatigue, turning the long hours of darkness into a test of preparation, focus, and resolve. Managing layers, energy, and morale became as important as managing speed.
The course reinforced a stripped-back philosophy. Predominantly flat and designed with less soft sand, for some, it encouraged sustained running, for others, the distance and challenge required survival marching. But flat did not mean easy. Over such distances, the lack of variety became its own challenge. Every mistake was amplified, every slowdown hard to recover from. The desert demanded patience and discipline, hour after hour, the cold nights bringing the greatest challenge.
On the ground, the scale of the operation matched the ambition of the format. Five life bases were positioned across the route offering a place to sleep, food, a warm fire and incredible support. Nine water stations filled the gaps in-between and a team of 147 staff working across logistics, medical care, safety, and race control made the whole thing tick. Organisation was tight, communication clear, and participant safety central throughout.
The racing itself gave the event its heartbeat. Athletes from 30 countries lined up, bringing an international energy to the desert, with women making up 30 percent of the field. What followed were two races and countless individual battles. In the 100-mile event, Martin Gallardo charged ahead in the early stages of the race, but after 40km’s, Maryline Nakache delivered a standout performance, coming from behind taking the outright win. In the 100-kilometre race, Adriana Moser claimed second place overall behind Sergio Turull, Francesca Canepa placing third – a podium underlining the depth and quality of competition across both distances and the dominance of women in the ultra distance.
But beyond the podiums, MDS ULTRA was 40-hours of stories. The glory of victory played out at the front, while deeper in the field some runners faced the agony of a DNF – forced to stop by injury, exhaustion, or the quiet accumulation of small failures.
For others, the reward was simpler and just as powerful: survival. Reaching the finish after a single, unbroken push through heat, cold, daylight, and darkness.
This first edition of MDS ULTRA established its own identity – it honoured Morocco’s and the MDS desert racing heritage without trying to recreate it. Fast but unforgiving, simple in concept and demanding in execution, it proved that even after four decades, the desert still has new ways to test those who dare to cross it.
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.
Lofoten Stage Run by the team at The Arctic Triple – Is the world’s most beautiful stage run, a rare kind of race that feels less like an event and more like a journey.
From 26 to 31 May 2026, a small group of just 30 runners will cross one of the most dramatic landscapes on the planet, moving step by step through mountains, fjords, beaches, and fishing villages under the returning light of the Arctic summer.
Set in Lofoten, Norway, this is a real multi-day adventure race spread over six days and four stages. The archipelago rises straight from the sea, with sharp granite peaks, narrow coastal trails, and open horizons in every direction. Late May is when the midnight sun begins to settle in, stretching the days and bathing the landscape in soft, golden light that never quite fades. You’ll run when the sun hangs low above the water, when shadows move slowly across the mountains, and when time feels different.
The race offers two distances. The 170 km Expedition Run covers four demanding stages between 34 and 52 kilometres, designed for runners who want a deep, physical immersion in the terrain. The 100 km Adventure Run follows the same spirit across four stages between 17 and 35 kilometres, offering a shorter but equally powerful experience. Both routes blend runnable sections with technical trails that require focus, respect for the landscape, and a steady rhythm rather than speed alone.
What sets Lofoten Stage Run apart is the way everything is woven together. From the moment we meet in Svolvær the day before race day, the experience is fully taken care of. Accommodation is comfortable, meals are generous and rooted in local flavors, and your luggage moves seamlessly from basecamp to basecamp. You run light, recover well, and wake up ready for the next stage. Every detail is designed so you can stay present in the experience rather than worry about logistics.
Each day on the trail brings something new. A climb that opens onto a wide fjord. A quiet stretch along white sand with turquoise water at your side. A remote valley where the only sounds are your breath and the wind. One stage begins with a boat ride into the heart of the landscape, delivering you to the start line in Kjerkfjorden, surrounded by steep walls of rock and sea. These are the moments that stay with you long after the race is over.
Evenings slow the pace. Warm dinners are shared around the table, stories traded between tired legs and smiling faces. With such a small field, the atmosphere stays personal and welcoming. You don’t disappear into a crowd. You become part of a temporary community moving together through a wild place. There is time to rest, to talk, to look out over the water and realise how far you’ve come.
The entry fee includes the entire package: five nights of accommodation, including the night before the race and the night after finishing, race registration, luggage transport, all meals from the first day in Svolvær until breakfast on day six, start kit, The Arctic Triple buff, service stations, first aid and evacuation transport, timing and tracking, warm dinner every night, the boat transfer to the starting line, and a quality finisher award. Everything is included so the focus stays where it should be, on the running and the place.
Lofoten Stage Run is not about crowds, noise, or chasing records. It’s about long days on epic trails, running beneath the midnight sun, and experiencing Norway at its most raw and beautiful. This is a race for runners who want more than a finish line, who are drawn to wild landscapes, shared effort, and the quiet magic that happens when movement, nature, and light come together.
Only 10-places remain for the 2026 edition, be quick!
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.
IAN CORLESS 
