The 2015 White Continent Ultramarathon

The day Sidy Diallo ran an ultramarathon and a half marathon in Antarctica.

Date: February 19, 2015
Ultramarathon (50 km) # 7
My Time: 6:08:47

Update: January 25, 2022

Upon completing the 50 km White Continent Ultramarathon, I asked the race director for permission to run the Penguin Marathon. He kindly granted me permission for the Penguin Half Marathon. Another runner, who started barefoot the aptly named Penguin Marathon, soon found out why Antarctica is the only wrong continent for naked human feet. At the time, I still had no idea about running marathons barefoot, and I had never met a barefoot marathoner until I saw a few days earlier, in Punta Arenas, Eddie Vega doing barefoot the 2015 Southern Cross Marathon, which I won with Joe Fernandez. I’ve meanwhile run barefoot 104 marathons in 49 countries of the six other continents. I’ve also published the book Running Barefoot for Human Survival. One of the chapters, “Friday the 13th at the End of the World,” is about my second trip to Southern Patagonia and Antarctica, excerpts:

Two groups of marathon globetrotters converged in Punta Arenas: the Triple 7 Quest participants (Group 1) and the White Continent Marathon runners (Group 2), to which I belonged. Our races were scheduled on the same courses, in Punta Arenas and Antarctica, but on separate dates and under different names, according to the following calendar. Joe Fernandez and I were among the few members of the Group 2 who joined those of the Group 1 for the Southern Cross Marathon. We started at 6:00 p.m. and the weather was exceptionally perfect, with ideal temperatures, no rain and without the gusts that usually blow on the banks of the Strait of Magellan. I ran most of the time with Joe Fernandez, and we ended up winning the marathon hand in hand in a time of 3:58:41, after each of us had vainly tried to let the other cross the finish line first.

The last runner finished the marathon at around 1:00 a.m. The participants in the Triple 7 Quest were deservedly expecting to beat several records in the next hours. We were all so elated at the end of the world that we missed what some superstitious would view as an ominous date: it was Friday 13th. Were we therefore unknowingly exulting too soon?

The charter flight took off from Punta Arenas at 3:00 a.m. on Valentine’s Day and headed to Antarctica with the Group 1 on board. Jürgen Kuhlmey, who celebrated his 77th birthday the previous day, woke when the plane landed. “I was so happy, but surprised to see cars and a modern and well-equipped airport in Antarctica. I started taking souvenir photos, then I suddenly realized that all the other guys were very sad,” he told me later in the restaurant of our hotel, while showing me his pictures of the Punta Arenas Airport. Jürgen Kuhlmey was asleep when the pilot announced the bad news, 20 minutes prior to their landing in Antarctica: they had to turn around because of the suddenly worsening visibility on King George Island.

It was the beginning of a long nightmare. We had an information meeting, in a conference room or in the hotel lobby, after each weather forecast update that the Chilean meteorologists based in King George Island were sending every six hours to Punta Arenas. The Triple 7 Quest participants realized that the unpredictability of Mother Nature had definitively jeopardized their goal of running on the 7 continents in 7 days. The three Punta Arenas Marathon events took place on Sunday, February 15, in cold and rainy weather with the usual strong gusts on the bank of the Strait of Magellan. I completed and won my sixth ultramarathon in a time of 5:09:25...

We were awakened at 4 a.m. The head of logistics, Don Alejo, summoned us few minutes later to incriminate us. He presented three pieces of evidence: a plastic bag containing a lot of feces, a funnel clogged by toilet paper, and a half-full bucket of urine. We formed a semicircle in front of the man with the very long white beard, who was still silent.

“Steve! I’m waiting for you!” he suddenly shouted in a voice reminiscent of a baritone.
“I’m coming!” Steve Hibbs replied from his tent.
Don Alejo started to speak when he saw him arriving. One staff member had meanwhile removed the stuck toilet paper from the funnel.
“There are rules you should respect in Antarctica, unless you want to close the door for all future events,” Don Alejo lectured. “Here’s a first problem: how can you get this bag full of poo into this narrow tube?”
He reminded us that it was a single-use bag, and he showed us how to handle it. He carefully emptied the urine into the barrel, insisting that toilet paper was not allowed into the bucket.
“Have you understood the rules?” he asked.
“Yes sir!” we unanimously shouted.

We left our loved ones and our comfortable toilets, paid a substantial amount of money and made very long journeys on the planet to obediently be reprimanded in Antarctica, like children, about the handling of urine and excrement. At least, the scolding was finally over, we hoped. But we were summoned again to face the fury of Don Alejo, because someone had dared to throw toilet paper into the bucket, and that person didn’t even bother emptying it. Enough was enough. The impact of the last wrath of Don Alejo was immediate and unequivocal. Everyone got the message. We had almost forgotten the reason for our presence in King George Island.

As the participants were from both groups, contrary to what was planned, the three events of the White Continent Marathon and the two races of the Penguin Marathon took place at the same time. We set out at 5 a.m., near the camp. I found myself quickly relegated to the back of the pack. My body had seemingly depleted all my glucose and reserve of glycogen in its efforts to maintain the temperature at 37° C during my sleep. It was the first time that I experienced such a situation at a race start, but I wasn’t worried about my chances to complete the ultramarathon (50 km).

We first headed to the air base. Two Chileans in charge of the monitoring were sitting in front of the tent near the base. We turned around, passed the camp and continued to the Chinese base, Great Wall, where two other guys were doing the monitoring. The ultramarathon consisted of seven out-and-backs and a short one from the camp to the Chinese scientific station. I started feeling much better after about 30 minutes, thanks to the refueling. I overtook many runners thereafter, finishing the race in the second place in the overall results in a time of 6:08:47.

Since I had easily completed the race pain and injury-free, many of the participants were still running, and we had to wait few hours before the plane arrived, I felt the need to do another race to keep warming my body.
“Congratulations, Sidy!” Steve said, while handing me the medal.
“Thank you, Steve! Could you do me a favor?”
“How can I help you?” he asked.
“I’d like to do the Penguin Marathon,” I announced.
“Are you serious?” he asked.
“Yes, I just need your consent.”
“The marathon may be too much, but if the half marathon is okay for you, you can start right now,” he said.
“Two for the price of one,” quipped Ziyad Rahim, founder and CEO of Z Adventures.
“Thank both of you,” I said and joyfully started my second race of the day in Antarctica...