When Laurie Andrews packed for the trip to celebrate her 40th birthday, there were several things she couldn’t forget: a lighter, 10 safety pins, a compass, a mirror, a survival blanket and a snake venom kit. All required items for her adventure in Morocco.

On Sunday, Andrews started with more than 800 others in the 23rd annual Marathon des Sables, a six-day foot race across the Sahara desert. The contest is considered by many one of the toughest tests on Earth. On Tuesday, she was in 220th place.

In the Sahara, temperatures reach more than 120 degrees. Sand seeps into shoes, mixes with sweat and grinds feet raw. During the six days, runners complete the equivalent of five-and-half marathons, including one 50-mile stage they have 48 hours to finish.  

Andrews will brave sandstorms and isolation, while carrying everything she needs, except for a tent and 9 liters of water a day, in a pack weighing less than 20 pounds.

Andrews hasn’t always been a runner. She joined the Pepperdine University cross-country team on a whim her sophomore year of college. She was shocked to learn she would have to run five miles – in one day.

Andrews was the worst on the team, but fell in love with running and the escape it offered.

By the time she finished college, Andrews had run marathons. Last June, she tried her first ultra event, a 50-mile race at Grand Targhee. A 100-mile race in September followed.

The five-year valley resident is driven by pursuing a challenge. She wanted to reach for the ultimate goal for her 40th birthday in March. In November, she realized there would be no greater race than the Marathon des Sables.

For this race, she knew her training would require more than just her regular runs.

“When you decide to run, you can put on your tennis shoes and run, but with ultras you need a whole team,” Andrews said. Training becomes a science.

Her team included a massage therapist, acupuncturist, training partner, even someone who specially modified her shoes with Velcro to attach tailor made gators to keep the sand out and a coach.

Lisa Smith-Batchen, Andrews’ coach, taught her how to race and understand quality training, which means even when Andrews didn’t want to, sometimes she had to rest. Every two weeks, Andrews received a new schedule by e-mail, for running and cross-training.

Andrews’ days started at 6 a.m., often on her road bike, mounted on a trainer in her garage. With a space heater cranked and bundled with layers and gloves, Andrews would open her garage door and spin for about an hour and a half while looking down on Game Creek, a desert of snow. Below her was her winding half-mile driveway she runs repeatedly on hill-training days, a reminder of her workout to come later in the day.

Andrews doesn’t wear a heart-rate monitor, or use fancy gadgets. Training is already complicated with even her basic gear. She measures her intensity by the sweat that runs down her cheeks and her breathing, that deepens, but never gasps.

At lunch, she slipped out of her job as executive director of Jackson Hole Land Trust to put in six-mile runs up Cache Creek. In the evening, she did yoga or climbed, finishing with stretching and icing sore muscles. There were days her whole body winced with soreness and days she felt invincible.

Andrews traded in nights out with friends and afternoons of skiing for weekend days of six-hour runs with a backpack. It started with only 5 pounds. By the end of February, her pack was laden with bags of flour – the same shape of gear she will carry – and small dumbbells.

The pack changed everything. It shortened her stride to a shuffle. Her lower back ached when she wore it.

Marathon Des Sables is like no other race, said Smith-Batchen, a former competitor. The course isn’t revealed until the start, but it traverses sand, rocks, trail and hills. To prepare, Andrews strapped on snow shoes and ran in powder or trained on Idaho sand dunes.

Running with a pack on sand is like running on ice, she said. There is a definite heel-toe strike. She could simulate the feel of running on sand while training in Jackson, but there was no way to prepare for the heat.

“There is nothing you can do to get hot running on a negative 15 degree day,” she said.

Andrews added hot yoga to her training.  Her body melted, while hot rocks sizzled in a tiny studio. She focused on centering her breathing, focusing on the moment.

“You need 100 percent determination to stick it out,” the instructor said during a recent training session. Muscle lines, deep and accentuated, began to quiver in a pose.

Training for the Marathon des Sables was more of a mental struggle than Andrews expected. She used to find joy in running, she said. Now it has become another job.

Food will be the biggest issue. Andrews has a sensitive stomach and heat will add complications. She normally eats energy bars when she runs.  

Those who have done the race said don’t bring bars. Their advice: Dilute nutritional gel in water bottles so you don’t have to mess with packaging. Eat crushed chips and nuts.

Andrews spent weeks experimenting with what flavors of chips she liked best, what nuts gave her the most energy, or the most calories.

Racers must carry at least 2,000 calories a day, which officials check. Andrews packed about 15,000 calories for the six days, not counting Gatorade powder. Food was taken out of it’s own packaging, put into compact bags and weighed. An ounce too much and Andrews removed a chip. Each bag has to be labeled with nutrition facts visible for race officials.

Dinner will be dehydrated meals. All she will have to do is add water and set the food in the sun to cook.

“Food is heavy,” she said. It will make up the bulk of the weight she carries. She will wear only one Smart Wool shirt and running shorts during the week of racing. She indulged and took two pairs of socks. Every ounce counted as she packed. Her sleeping bag, good for down to 30 degrees, weighed 1.2 pounds, her flip flops 7.8 ounces.

The only indulgences were some hard candy for dessert and a piece of dried lavender. Andrews always carries something from her family when racing. Her mom sent the lavender she raised in her California garden, knowing it would be light enough for Andrews to carry.

Andrews inhaled the frail leaves as she packed. At night, when exhaustion or discouragement presses on her, she will smell it and remember those who support her. It might be enough for her to take her first steps the next morning.

In the middle of March, she began to taper her training. The decrease in exercise brings on a kind of withdrawal. First there is the drop in endorphins, a sudden moodiness.

That is topped off with irrational panic, Andrews describe as a “mental freak-out.” She irrationally worries months of training will be lost in the final weeks dedicated to letting her body refresh. She indulges in short, two-hour runs with her dog, Max, and makes sure all her most important gear will fit in her carry-on bag on the plane.

For the race, she planned to run an eight-and-two pattern – running eight minutes, power walking two minutes. It was strategy she fought when Smith-Batchen first suggested it. She was racing. She was supposed to run the whole time. But after several training runs using the technique and producing faster times, she was convinced. It allowed steadier breathing and gave her legs a chance to recover.

Heading into the race, she knew the start could turn into a sprint. She planned to remind herself: It doesn’t matter what she does on the 20-mile day if she’s not standing for the 50-mile day.