It's the start of another race, and "everybody happy!" (Photo shamelessly stolen from Race Director Bogie. Many others to follow stolen as well. I am a thief.)
KZ is ready to rock. Goal: 40 miles.
Breakheart Dan is ready to wuss out with a paltry 8 miles. It is not even worth the bother to tie your shoes if you are only going out for such a short run, IMHO.
Trail Pixie is also running 8 miles, but I find I can only say kind things about the woman who is the very soul of "The Gang".
Trailgrrl with her Stone Cat paraphanilia is ready for a nice long run.
I actually lost some weight since my last race, although I guess I lost it from spots that are entirely invisible.
Paul showed up a half hour late, but with speed such as his he could have afforded at least an hour or two.
I capture a photo of Trailgrrl capturing a photo. It is a newfound hobby of mine.
Modeling the candy cane socks. They go very well with the Kitten hat. What a fashion deva!
KZ takes forvever with his gear while Trailgrrl does the "I gotta pee" dance in the background.
It is almost time to begin running. It is here that we feel the an-ti-ci------pation.
Soon the pain begins.
And we are off! I immediately jockey to last place. Just try and take it from me, and you will see a side of me you never thought existed.
And now, somehow, we are back at the pre-race wait. I think we might be experiencing a chronic temporal hysterisis. Either that, or I watch too much "Doctor Who".
Bogie upon Mount Sinai, ready to give us the Ten Commandments of trail racing. I would listen, but I am almost done shaping a calf made entirely of gels. Not easy, that.
I sprint ahead to get a action photo of "The Gang". At mile 20, I began to regret that sprint. Now, a day later, I regret nothing. How mutable are my feelings.
KZ engages in some freestyle rapping as we begin the long climb.
Another action photo after another sprint. Will I never learn? No, I will not. Not now, not ever. It is my nature.
Well, at least Streph is in focus. That's 50%, and that ain't bad.
"Down, down to Goblin town. Ho ho, my lad. Ho ho, my lad" -Excellent tune from Rankin-Bass' "The Hobbit".
KZ and a man who was once referred to as "Hercules" (by an extremely weak man) finish another loop.
Trail Pixie and Streph are all smiles since they are done for the day. I enjoyed at least 80% more runner's high than they. Now who's laughing? (Actually, they are.)
Dan put everything on the line today, and failed miserably. Naw, I'm just kidding. He only mostly failed.
Trailgrrl running so fast that the camera is unable to center the photo on her.
I try and get at least one smarmy looking photo each race. This would be it. Would you care to buy a used car? Everything must go, and at prices that are craaaazy!
Trailgrrl looking really silly. Hee hee.
KZ practicing Native American greetings as he gets ready for another loop.
Paul is leery of the photographer, and rightly so.
Hill me, baby, one more time!
Boston from Wrights Tower. (Pronouced: Bahhhhhstahn).
KZ and the gang leaving me behind again. Weren't they enjoying my anecdote on the history of telegraph poles in Victorian England?
All I am saying is give peace on a lichenous rock a chance.
Me and my bro after the second loop. He is dressed sensibly for the weather. I am not. This kind of sums up the differences between us.
Thought this view of Boston was cool. I-93 is ablaze with the light of a thousand suns, except much less bright.
KZ and me at the end of forty! We stayed a bit to help Bogie clean up since he graciously waited for us to finish. I took all of the remaining food because I am a human garbage disposal, and then we headed home secure in the knowledge that we are awesome.
Base Camp Alpha at about 6:30pm. Another great race at the Fells! Race video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r4DcGrkrHE0 Blog review: http://deadlastultrarunner.getpaidfrom.us/