There was something truly magical about the night sky that evening. The long stage had drawn to a close and the weary competitors were in various stages of deep sleep and exhaustion. The cumulative miles their bodies had taken to this point were steadily taking their toll; even for those at the front of the field who made it look so easy.

As the crew tents fell into silence, there was an energy still flickering in ours. Lindsey, my wing-woman and Expedition Podiatrist extraordinaire had not long face planted onto her sleeping bag. Not least as she was wearing enough layers to secure a fortress for an impending snowstorm. The laughter took some time to abate - quietening first to sniggers and then the question of whether we could fall asleep with the chorus of snoring from our fellow team who had drifted off blissfully unaware of the Sahara camaraderie existing in this Icelandic landscape.

The day had been a long one on the checkpoints - brightened for some by the cheerleading antics we both delivered with the pom poms and the efforts of Robin, our french comrade who unfortunately had to exit the race on day 1 and graciously took up the role of keeping our checkpoint team company.

As I lay awake listening to the midnight chorus, I decided to go outside the tent for some fresh air. I had a lot of energy and couldn’t sleep. And behold, before my eyes were the Northern Lights dancing above me. One of the competitors was wearily making their way back to their tent from the portaloo. Mesmerised by the shifting green, red and purple lights, I was both rooted to the ground beneath me and drawn to the symphony above.

The lights changed before my eyes. Sweeping and rolling. then softening to a dim haze before soaring into a brilliance that words cannot describe. I moved to the tent, calling my crew to come see. No one stirred. I stood outside the other crew tent, torn between whether to go and wake the competitors or marvel at the night sky alone. They had just finished 70km and had 42km tomorrow; what if I woke everyone and the lights faded and they questioned my silent lucidity.

I marvelled alone at the majestic Aurora Borealis