This post dives deeper into my experience at the Mammutmarsch Munich 2021.
I’m glad to see you’re still interested in my blog!
If you haven’t read Part 1 yet, you can find it here.

Just like with gear, participants brought wildly different amounts and types of food. Some people showed up with nothing but a hydration pack, while others—like us—lugged a 40L backpack that felt like it was filled to the brim with snacks.

Let me tell you: food can make or break your Mammutmarsch experience—at least from my perspective. During the march, I burned around 7,000 extra calories on top of my normal daily needs. Without a constant, reliable energy source, I would’ve burned out quickly. As we learned during the David Goggins Challenge, short, regular breaks were the most effective strategy for us.

Training marches taught me a lot about which foods actually sustain your energy—and which ones burn out fast. Pasta and potatoes provided lasting energy, whereas chocolate bars or dextrose candies gave you about 500 m of turbo mode… and then a hard crash. My advice: test in advance what works for you and what actually fuels your engine.

One teammate made the rookie mistake we later called the “Ham Sandwich Lesson (German)”: He brought a whopping 1.2 kg bowl of quinoa. It was a decent source of energy—at first—but after five servings he couldn’t even hear the word “quinoa” without groaning. Into the trash it went, to the amusement of the group.
Lesson learned: bring variety!

Personally, I packed almost 2 kg of food to meet my estimated daily need of around 6,400 kcal. The rule of thumb is 200–400 kcal per hour, plus 20 g of protein every 3 hours. For more detailed planning, check out this guide on ultra marathon nutrition.

By the end, I had about 400 g left of the 500 g of pesto pasta I packed—and probably only because I had some digestion issues in the final stretch (more on that later). Without those, I likely would’ve finished it all. So in hindsight, my portioning worked out well.

What I highly recommend: a hydration pack. It saves you a ton of time and effort. At 100 km, imagine how often you’d need to stop and grab a bottle from your pack. A hose that’s always within reach reminds you to drink—something easy to forget when you’re focused on pushing forward. As someone who tends to under-hydrate, that hose may have saved my life.

One thing that really boosted my spirits: two peanut butter, banana, and honey sandwiches. The perfect combo of calories, good sugars, and a bit of magnesium. Honestly, those sandwiches are probably the reason I made it through the final kilometers.

And here’s a tip: if you feel like you can’t go any further and you’re ready to quit—sit down and eat something. Even if you can’t stomach much, wait until you can. I once took a 45-minute break. The moment you get some food in you—especially if it’s not just fast-burning sugar—you’ll often feel the energy return.
The goal is to get as far as you can. Every step counts. A break is fine—quitting isn’t!

Choose your own pace! Over 100 km, even small deviations become huge. Around midnight at about 60 km in, the slightly slower walking speed of my group started messing with my head—I almost quit then and there. So I made the tough decision to separate from my friends (Sorry guys, I know that wasn’t cool). But I bet if the pace had been slightly faster, it would’ve pulled someone else down instead.

Once I sped up just a little, my mood lifted within 2 km. So if you find yourself getting cranky early on, experiment with your pace—it really makes a difference.

And if you do hit a wall, try phoning a friend. My buddy Lukas pulled me back from the edge more than once. Thank you!

I was also encouraged by fellow Mammuts on the course—like two folks who rallied me on in the middle of Munich. Thank you both! The spirit of the Mammutmarsch lives through mutual support, so pay it forward when you see someone struggling.

If there’s one area I could’ve saved weight: it was the med kit. Mine was packed with plasters, tweezers (for ticks), anti-mosquito spray, tape, an emergency blanket… you name it. In the end, I only used the tape (to fix a poncho) and the bug spray. The tape in particular has saved the day more than once—also great for fixing broken shoes.

Still, I’d recommend bringing:

Blister plasters
A tick remover card
An emergency blanket (even at 20 °C, you can cool down dangerously fast after 70 km)

The Bavarian Red Cross had first aid staff positioned roughly every 6–7 km. Massive thanks for that! They offered medical supplies like blister care and more.

“After the ibuprofen, it feels like walking on clouds”—a direct quote from one participant.
Personally, I think ibuprofen should be a last resort, maybe to get through the final 5 km. But not at kilometer 45 just because you’re a bit sore. Sadly, not everyone agreed. That soaked guy from Part 1? He was popping Ibus like Tic Tacs…

He wasn’t alone—someone else had taken 3,500 mg by kilometer 85. The max daily dose? 1,200 mg!
In the end, everyone decides for themselves, but I don’t support that approach.

Overall, the route was beautiful. It led over trails, through small towns, across fields and meadows, into forests, and through Munich itself. Highlights included Maisinger Bach, Lake Starnberg, the Isar promenade, and the English Garden. We even passed the Eisbach, where surfers were riding waves despite the gloomy weather.

The variety in terrain really helped make the distance feel more manageable.

Let’s just say the food at the aid stations wasn’t exactly gourmet.
They offered milk buns, pretzel sticks, bananas, and apples. Some stations had warm food for sale—like goulash at VP1. At VP3, reached during the early morning, there was coffee. From VP2 onward, they also served instant iced tea on request.

What bothered me was the odd spacing between stations. I assume it was a logistical constraint, but it was still frustrating:

VP 1: 22.5 km
VP 2: 44 km
VP 3: 58 km
VP 4: 84.5 km

See it? Between VP2 and VP3: only 14 km. Between VP3 and VP4: a brutal 26 km.

That may not sound like much, but after walking this far, it’s hell.
A better distribution might’ve been VP3 at 60 km and VP4 at 80 km. That 6.5 km difference was painful—I would’ve moved mountains just for another rest stop. And don’t be fooled: the last 10 km feel as hard as the previous 90.

The trail itself was well-marked with arrows, signs, and reflective orange ribbons—super visible even at night or in the woods. In Munich, however, the signage was easy to miss. I clocked two bonus kilometers because of it. Without my smartwatch, I would’ve gotten completely lost more than once. So I strongly recommend having some form of electronic navigation with you.

There’s nothing worse than wondering if you missed a VP between 58 and 84 km. Trust me, I’ve been there.

One issue that affects many long-distance marchers—myself included—is digestion.
After hours of walking, your gut can just shut down, and suddenly you urgently need a toilet. The issue? The next one might be 15 km away.

Once that hits, you’ll notice you can’t eat or drink anymore, which in turn leads to a drop in pace. The body just can’t take in the calories it needs. That creates a vicious cycle: no fuel, low energy, potential circulation issues, and a VP that never seems to get any closer.

So my advice: go as early as you can—and if there’s no toilet, have a backup plan.
To the organizers: some more regularly placed toilets would be a huge help!

In the end, four out of six of our team made it across the finish line.
We even managed to stand up straight for the victory photo.
We got medals, a certificate, and a celebratory drink. You have no idea how good a Radler can taste after that.

Happy with medals at the finish! From right to left: Alex, Dennis, Patrick, me

Well-earned certificate, medal, and drink

Experience / Euphoria / Pain / Would I do it again?

In hindsight, joining the Mammutmarsch was a wild idea. Considering the effort it took, I honestly don’t know if I’d ever do it again.

But it was also an unforgettable experience—one that showed me just how far I could push myself. That euphoric feeling of crossing the finish line will stay with me for a long time. And it’s one of those achievements you can genuinely be proud of.

As the saying goes:

The best view comes after the hardest climb.

Until the next summit,
Your Vale