Full moon desert marathon: How it feels to run through Wadi Rum
There is probably nothing that could prepare you for the beauty and vastness of Wadi Rum. Before travelling to the iconic desert landscape in southern Jordan, I had read books, travel blogs and articles. Yet some places test the limits of even the most talented writers: No matter how beautiful the sentences and descriptions, no matter how clever the comparisons, one still cannot do them justice. Some places have to be seen and felt, each and every impression needs to be absorbed as deeply as possible. Wadi Rum is such a place for me.
It is 05.05.2023, the day before my 31st birthday. It is also the day of my first 10 km-race. In the evening, my boyfriend and I want to run through the desert landscape of Wadi Rum beneath the full moon, together with hundreds of other runners from all over the world. I had been looking forward to the event for weeks. When the day finally arrives, self-doubt creeps into every phase of my body: What if I make a fool of myself and don't finish the race?
In the morning, my boyfriend and I have brunch at our favourite café in Amman. At Chapter 9, we are always greeted with a warm smile, as if we were old acquaintances who have finally returned home. You can feel the love that goes into every single detail: A gingerbread latte is served with a homemade gingerbread man, carefully placed on the edge of the cup so that it doesn't drown in the coffee. Flowers make avocado toasts and salads look like work of art.
One indulgent breakfast later, my boyfriend and I leave the busy streets of Amman behind us. We drive further south until we finally arrive in Wadi Rum in the hot midday sun. A banner greets us at the camp hosting the race: Wadi Rum Full Moon desert Marathon. We didn't dare to tackle the longest distance - 42 km. A half marathon also seemed out of the question. At this moment, even 10 kilometers seem crazy to me. It's hot, it's dusty, and I already know that the never-ending soft sand will challenge my willpower and strength.
Inside the camp, the bass is booming. Yet the outdoor area, which will later serve as a party floor, is deserted. No one seems to want to waste their energy dancing or partying. Instead, the runners seek shelter in tents from the suffocating heat that has settled over the desert landscape. We hear a rumor that there will be sandstorms towards evening - just when the race is supposed to start. We register and eat Arabic ice cream as a welcome snack. Since we've been living temporarily in the Middle East, it's our favorite: crunchy pistachios in a cream that tastes like rosewater, but not too sweet. The consistency is a bit more chewy than the ice cream I'm familiar with from Italian-style ice cream parlors. While we eat our ice cream in the shade, our eyes keep scanning the countdown in daunting red digits: 5 hours to go. 4. 3.
Waiting is the worst part. My boyfriend and I use the time to set up our quarters for the night. We have not booked a room. Instead we want to camp wild. In the shade of a rock, we pitch our one-man tent. "Your birthday palace," my boyfriend says, and I couldn't imagine a better place to stay. We climb up the rock. Finally, the desert landscape spreads out before our eyes in thousands of shades of red and orange. From here we watch the sunset. Another phenomenon that words and descriptions cannot do justice to.
When we return to camp shortly after, the dreaded sandstorm sets in. We pull our storm hoods over our mouths, squint our eyes. Dust and sand blow relentlessly towards us, reducing visibility to a minimum. Anyone who has registered for a marathon or half marathon will now have to run against the storm. The longer races start an hour before us. We are still left with the hope that calm will return by the time we start. We don’t know it yet, but it eventually will.
In my cloth bag, I find the participant number 555. I attach it to my T-shirt with pins, carefully, as if the number were a good omen. 555 on May 5th. It is amazing how happy such seemingly small things can make me. The moon now shines full and bright over Wadi Rum. During the race it will be our only source of light - apart from a few glow sticks that will show us the way every few hundred meters. My boyfriend and I don't have a headlamp with us. I feel like an amateur amongst all the runners with professional gear, well equipped from head to toe.
As we line up a few minutes before the start, it feels like the mass of participants could power a big city like New York with their excitement. I put on my headphones, Biffy Clyro blasting in my ears, "Many of Horror." My favorite running song. I can't hear much more, but the start siren booms even through my noise-canceling headphones.
The hour that follows is torture. Breathtaking, beautiful torture. I had feared the soft sand, yet underestimated it. It feels like the desert is devouring a big bite of my energy reserves with every single step I take. After less than two kilometers, the first participants start to walk. I have to gather all my strength not to do the same. After about four kilometers, my boyfriend and I find our place in the field of participants. From now on, we are alone most of the time. Without headlamps of other runners burning in our eyes.
Finally, after about five kilometers, hell turns into heaven. The beauty of the scenery hits me full force. At that moment, I know that I will never forget this scene for the rest of my life: The silhouette of my boyfriend running past the desert rocks of Wadi Rum beneath the shadow of the full moon. Coldplays "In my place“ is now blaring through my headphones. Pure joy permeates every fiber of my body. At kilometer 7, the sand softens again, and my runners high comes to an abrupt end. There are battles raging inside my head.
I can't take it anymore. My whole body feels sour. Who does something like this voluntarily, not to mention three hours before their birthday?
The other side objects: We've already come this far. If I give up now, I'll regret it forever.
Eventually, this side will win.
Shortly after nine o'clock in the evening, my boyfriend and I cross the finish line. Shivering, happy. The dinner that follows at the camp is one of the best meals of my life. Every bite tastes like a revelation: rice, chicken, noodles, hummus; followed by baklava. The dance floor is still empty. My boyfriend and I leave the camp and head to my birthday palace. Actually, we had planned to stay awake until midnight. Shortly before 12 o'clock we fall asleep. My birthday had not even begun. Yet it was already the most beautiful I had ever experienced.
What you need to know about the Wadi Rum Full Moon Desert Marathon
The event has been listed in Lonely Planet's '1000 Ultimate Adventures', as well as one of the '25 Best Adventure Marathons in the World' by the US Men's Journal Magazine.
In 2023, the race in Wadi Rum took place for the 14th time, organized by the Jordanian company Treks.
Participants can choose between the following distances:
- 42 km (marathon)
- 21 km (half marathon)
- 10 km (run)
- 5 km (guided walk)
In May - the month in which the race is usually held - temperatures in Wadi Rum range from 15 to 29 Celsius (59 - 84.2 Fahrenheit).
When booking, you can choose between a full package (including accommodation at Hasan Zawaideh Camp, meals and transportation to and from the capital Amman) or an à la carte package. We opted for the second version: we organized our accommodation and transport ourselves, and spontaneously booked dinner at the camp after the race.
What is included in both packages: fee for participation in the race, goodie bag including t-shirt and buff, welcome snack (ice cream!). After the race we were allowed to use the shared bathrooms in the camp and shower there as well.
More info can be found on the website of the organizer Treks - for example on the FAQ-page.