Stage 38 - Lesjöfors

A great day...despite having to run two marathons! At just over halfway, I was met by my Austin friend Mike. His father is Swedish, and Mike's here on vacation, visiting family and running the Stockholm marathon on Saturday. He chose to celebrate his birthday drivng several hours from Stockholm, and then running 15K of today's course with me. It lifted my spirits no end.

To make things even finer, he left a wonderful care package for me at the finish, replete with loads of fresh salmon (already eaten!), other comestibles, a replacement GPS from Claire, and a ton of well-wishing cards from family and friends. Thank you all so very much! I will read some every night, to keep me feeling positive about the difficult miles still ahead.

Tomorrow's a shorter day - only 40 miles - so I'm looking forward to an early finish. We have two more days on the E26, before it becomes the E45. Truck traffic seemed lighter today, a trend that should continue as we head north. It rained at the end of today's stage, and more is forecast for tomorrow, but we've been generally so lucky with the weather so far that no-one's complaining.

Stage 37 - Kristinehamn

You know you're in a strange reality when running "only" 42 miles feels like a rest day. It is nice to be finished by 3pm - I've had time to shower and eat, and now I get to sleep for an hour before dinner. Sweet.

Today we ran exclusively along the shoulder of the E26, and will be doing exactly the same thing for the next three days solid, until we reach Mora. Then we switch to the E45, for two weeks.

At times, the road does seem to go on forever - the trucks barrelling towards you certainly do. I just hope traffic lightens as we get further north.

The weather seems to start cold and grey each day, but by lunchtime the skies are blue and sunny. If you want to imagine Sweden - wide open green fields bounded by woods; signs to interesting places like Nybble and Nolhassle; occasional red barns and vacation cottages; friendly people who speak perfect English; dark-looking lakes and streams; and Volvos.

Stage 36 - Hasslerör

I kid you not - we're staying at the Hassle Sporthall tonight. But it does have hot showers and plenty of space - a guarantee of several stars in the Trans Europe rating scheme.

Well, we ran - or in some cases walked and hobbled - 105 miles this weekend. Today alone we ran more than two marathons. The effects are beginning to show. At least 5 of the top 10 are nursing bad knee or shin problems. Back in the peleton (I'm 35th at this point), there's a lot of fatigue, as each "long" day takes an interminable time to complete. Today, for example, I was running for 11 hours 15 minutes. That leaves little time for recovery, before things get underway again tomorrow.

Today's health report: sciatica better; feet OK; achilles tendons sore for the first time; quads and back very tired; very congested with cold symptoms. So good for another 43 miles tomorrow.

Stage 35 - Kvänum

Today's long stage (51 miles) is followed by an even longer one (54 miles) tomorrow. I managed to finish not long after 4pm today (10 hours of running - trust me, that's a long time to be on your feet), which means that my speed is marginally improving. As I've mentioned before, my only interest in speed is that getting done earlier gives me more time to rest and recover for the next day.

The day started very cold and bleak, but the rain held off, and by midday we had a very nice day on our hands. (It was light when we awoke at 4am - I've no idea what time it gets dark, as that's way after my bedtime!) We're passing through gently rolling farmland with occasional villages along the way. It's nice at this time of year, but I imagine that the winters can be awfully long and depressing. All the locals we meet along the way are very kind and friendly - the best, most curious reception yet.

As today was Stage 35, we're officially 5 weeks done, with only 4 left. Still a very long way to go, but it does feel like major, if ever so slow, progress.

Swedish

I don't want to sound like an ignoramus, and everyone we've met here has been so friendly, but this language is strange, inpenetrable, and at times absolutely hilarious. Many words read like Scrabble hands. My favorite direction sign today was to Lårje Hed, but I didn't have my camera with me.

Stage 34 - Sjövik

After a monster buffet breakfast on the ship, we disembarked to be greeted by cheering crowds, cameramen and the press. They were actually covering the story about the two Swedish army guys, but we got to bask in some reflected glory...until it was time to set out in the cold and pouring rain. Skies were grey and leaden all day, with some heavy downpours thrown in. Luckily, I'd grabbed my Goretex jacket just before the start. An absolute lifesaver today.

We left Gothenburg by bike path, and followed nice peaceful trails for just over 30 miles to this little camp of cabins by a very Swedish lake.

My running's definitely improving, despite the fact that I'm working on cold #2. I'm much happier with shorter stages like we've had for the last 3 days, so the next couple of days of 50+ miles will be the real test.

Stage 33 - Kiel

Greetings from Kiel! Here I am, fresh from coffee and cake with the mayor in the Ratskeller, and now waiting to board our enormous ship to Sweden. I'm proud to have just completed my second (and last!) crossing of Germany on foot.

What a strange day this is in Germany. It's Ascension Day, Fathers' Day, and a public holiday. To celebrate, older people cycle around, while groups of young men in their 20's and 30's walk around with handcarts full of beer. I'd had this described to me, but I couldn't imagine it until I witnessed it for myself. How bizarre.

Our 34-mile stage felt good for me today. Little trouble from sciatica, the course was beautiful, the weather fine, and the hills not too steep. Let's hope the crossing is smooth - skies have just turned dark and rain has started.

Sweden starts tomorrow, and will take 25 days to cross. It's hard to believe that so many of us have made it this far.

Life on the road...

Jenni from Holland getting an after-dinner buzzcut from Uli, a volunteer from Germany. My hair's growing, but I'm not ready for a visit to Uli yet.

Stage 32 - Bad Sedeberg

Halfway - at least in terms of days. It feels very good to have come this far, but it has been extraordinarily hard. Today's was the shortest stage of the whole race - a measly 28 miles, and many of us were done by noon. Because that let us start late, we actually got an extra half hour in bed, and so slept in til 4:30am. Bliss!

My breakfasts have taken on a standard form - two rolls with cheese, ham, salami and butter, two slices of bread awash with Nutella, a bowl of cereal, orange juice, a banana and two cups of coffee. I also take an extra roll with meat and cheese which is my "second breakfast" after the first 10 miles of running. Not exactly veggie or low cholesterol, but it's what my body needs.

Tomorrow we run to the ferry in Kiel, and then sail overnight to Gothenburg in Sweden. What an adventure - a welcome change in routine.

Stage 31 - Trittau

The very best reception yet, in this little town somewhere east of Hamburg. After 43 miles, as we arrived in town, we were met by our respective national anthems and groups of schoolkids with our flags, who led us to the finish line, where a band was playing and kids were doing gymnastics routines. Free, abundant, delicious food, happy people, and autograph-hungry kids. And hot showers! Life is good today, especially with three shorter stages ahead.

Health report: My feet are doing much better, as my "water weight" has returned to normal. My list has abated, and I'm practically vertical. Blood pressure is back to 120 over 80. The only niggle right now is a problem with the sciatic nerve in my right leg, which on uneven surfaces (and there are lots) sends pains shooting down my leg, and reduces me to a temporary hobble.

Garmin (GPS) report: dead! I dropped it leaving the shower. Cr%p!

And finally - Hey Jude - huge congrats to my friends Ramsay and Amy on their new arrival. Feels like the young man will be in college before I get back to Austin to see him!

Stage 30 - Bienenbüttel

Today's very long - 48 mile - stage was almost exclusively along the footpath of the Elbe-Side canal. It's a modern shipping canal, designed for transporting coal and other big stuff inland. The locks are as enormous as the huge barges plying up and down.

Running along a towpath sounds nice - flat, no cars, watery scenes - but as it turns out it's quite dull and soul-destroying. It seems to take absolutely ages to get anywhere. After the race, someone said to me "I had déja-vu fifty times today!"

Fortunately I had Christian Marti for company, so the 10 hours we spent didn't seem quite so endless. We were greeted at the finish by a nice big hall but wretchedly cold showers. Not the worse thing in the world, because in only 3 more days I can mark Germany complete for a second time. C'mon, Sweden!

Stage 29 - Stüde

It's Norwegian Independence Day, which is a big deal in our destination country Norway, so here's a photo of a genuine Norwegian - Eiolf - luxuriating at the finish. Cool dude.

Today's run felt good for me - probably my best running since the first few days in Italy. The first 30 miles were flat and the weather close to perfect. I tried not to get carried away given we have a long stage tomorrow. The last 14 miles were along a boring, gravelly canal towpath into headwinds, so not much fun or fast running to be had, but so it goes.

Today's song stuck in my head? "Thirty Days in the Hole" by Humble Pie (really dating myself now!). Hint: tomorrow is day 30. Oh, and the accommodations suck and the showers are cold. Is that any way to treat a Norwegian, on this of all days?

Bad press... :(

Here's a clipping from a local newspaper yesterday. A car and truck collided while braking to avoid one of the Japanese runners, who was running in the road. A girl in the car had to be taken to hospital by helicopter. I hope she's OK.

I don't think some members of our party treat other road users properly. Be safe out there.

Stage 28 - Gebhardshagen (pic)

Finally! A large gym to sleep in tonight. That always improves the group's mood considerably. And of couse we eat where we sleep. An ascetic existence.

Stage 28 - Gebhardshagen

Stage 28 complete - that's 4 weeks done! On one hand, it feels like we've travelled so incredibly far - 1,200 miles (we've averaged 300 miles a week, a daunting number). On the other, we're not even halfway - gulp. But, as ever, one day at a time...

Today surprised me. I had a silent dread of its 48 miles, and early hilly going through the Harz Mountains. But for reasons I can't explain, I got into a comfortable pace, and felt strong most of the day.

I finished with three Germans - Klaus, Bernt and Joachim. By coincidence, they were wearing yellow, red and black shirts. From about a mile away, they looked like a German flag! When I caught them after the last aid station, my blue Rogue t-shirt broke up the symmetry.

Two experienced runners abandoned before today's stage started, bringing the total to 14, I think. Hans Damm (who I met during Deutschlandlauf 2007) had problems with a high fever. I'm not sure why the other person withdrew - sometimes people have just had enough mentally.

Rainer Koch continues to dominate the men's race, while Hiroko Yokihama is doing the same to the women's field. The leaders work awfully hard each day to keep their places. The strain is visible on at least three of them, who are clearly fighting injuries or fatigue. Me, I'm quite happy to be doggin' along in the peleton. "Langsam und bequem" - slow and comfortable.

Stage 27 - Ebergötzen

So how's this for counterpoint?

A long and extremely hilly day, many poor road surfaces with nasty cambers, very sore feet, an annoying lean to the right that everyone comments on, grey skies with on-and-off rain, and a 42-mile stage that turns out to be over 44.

Then, at the finish line, a German band, bratwurst aplenty, kids asking for autographs, and hot showers.

Today was very tough, but at least the ending was happy. My body is feeling very tired and beaten up after so many days on the road, and I had to work very hard for nearly 10 hours to keep in positive mental territory. The next four long days will be challenging, but I understand that after tomorrow's Hartz Mountains (not just a brand of flea and tick powder, apparently!), things start to get flatter.

Sorry about the whining. My mantra today and every day, to answer Barbara-Anne's post, is "relax and float". That's what I focus on whether or not things are going well. Being relaxed is obviously critical for an event of this duration. And floating is my mental way of picturing making all my energy work horizontally, not vertically (i.e., bouncing). Sounds a bit hippy-dippy, but I do like to keep pushing some simple, positive thoughts to the front of my mind, to displace the negative ones that try and sneak in.

Wow, I just realized that it's Friday - again! Enjoy your weekends.

Going Dutch!

My Dutch friends Anneka, Ubel and Jenny have been very kind to me, helping me to find prime real estate on the gym floors (they're always finished before me each day, so they pre-nab me a good spot before I arrive). Huge thanks to them - lifesavers! It's a reminder that we ultrarunners are totally dependent on the kindness of strangers...

Stage 26 - Waldkappel

Forty more miles today, not too many big hills and kind weather. I felt strong early in the day, but started to feel very tired by noon. The last three hours seemed interminable; I was grateful for the company of Christian Marti, who conversely had felt sluggish early but finished strong. All that I can predict is unpredictability!

We have seven more days in Germany - 5 long and 2 relatively short. My list to the left of a few days ago has changed to a similarly pronounced list to the right - I have absolutely no idea what's up with that. Otherwise, things are holding up OK. Food has slowly but steadily improved, my water retention problems have receded, and there's little trace left of my cold. Tonight's gym is spacious, the showers were hot, I'm eating a tin of mackerel and a KitKat, and so life is just about as good as it gets on the road.

Stage 25 - Queck dining

My Swiss running friend Christian Marti outside our surprisingly quaint and large portioned restaurant last night. We ran most of today's stage together.

Stage 25 - Queck

A good day today, although it started badly. First, we had to take a bus to the next village at 4:45am to breakfast, and then take it back afterwards to pack our things. Then the start at 6am - very cold and dismal. Moods didn't improve much for the first 20 miles of very steep hills.

But then by lunchtime we arrived at the old town of Fulda, and went through it on lovely, flat cycle paths. It was odd observing "regular" people again, hanging out in the parks, walking their dogs, generally getting on with their normal lives, while we aliens passed through. I am starting to miss really everyday things - like reading the paper, going to the store, watching a mindless TV show. We take so much for granted...

So the last 25 miles were long but pleasant enough, with not much traffic and lots of cycle paths. I felt physically and mentally strong today. Some are already starting to negatively fixate over the arduous, monotonous Swedish experience ahead of us. I'll just be glad to have made it that far, to a fourth country. Positive, positive - every step takes me one step closer to the North Cape - where, by the way, I'm planning to lob my sneakers theatrically into the ocean.

More energy generation...

The church in front of the stacks is dwarfed by man's secular needs.

Solar panels

Here's just one example of the thousands of roof solar panels I was ragging on in yesterday's post. Very green and very unsightly.

Stage 24 - Weissenbach

Twenty-four stages done, over 1,000 miles run. Today's run was not too long, but very wet, cold and hilly towards the end. Our overnight accommodations are, well, appalling. I'm sharing a 15x15ft space with 4 noisy Japanese and 3 angry Germans. Man. The showers are apparently cold, and nerves are getting pretty frayed (not mine, you understand!). Four of the race leaders got lost this morning - they were not happy when they finally caught up with the rest of the field - and that always gets folks riled up. I'm praying that tonight's dinner is OK, but I'm not holding my breath.

My Garmin (GPS) continues to be a godsend. It allows me to know distance travelled at any point in the day. Psychologically, that's a surprisingly big help. I've ceased taking an interest in features like average pace, because it is so irrelevant.

Parts of me continue to hurt at all times - one or both feet, right knee, hip, hamstring - the list doesn't change, nor do I expect it to, as there's no time or chance for recovery. But I do feel mentally strong. It's exciting to think that we'll complete Germany in only 9 more days.

Stage 23 - Prosselsheim

The last "killer day" - for now - is done. Another 51-miler complete. Two more tough cookies abandoned the race today, making 12 of the original 68 starters now back home with loved ones. While I envy them that, abandoning is very tough, especially after having suffered for 3 weeks.

Before today's stage started, the heavens opened for 2 hours. Magically though, 5 minutes before our 6am start, the rain gods relented, and we only got intermittent drizzle all day. The course took us over the Main river at Würzburg, a beautiful old town I'd like to have seen more of.

Just before we hit town, we were running on a cycle path, and a police car pulled up beside me. (I've never been pulled over by the police during a race before!) I explained our journey, and was sent on with a cheery wave. It can be a dangerous approach - one of the other runners did the same in Northern Italy, and was nearly arrested, as the story sounds so implausibe.

Two observations for today - cuckoos and solar panels. Both are everywhere here in Southern Germany. While the cuckoos are charming, the solar panels are not. While I applaud the greenness, they look just awful on old terra cotta rooves. And because we're headed north, we see every one as they all face south. Sorry, but a 17th century half-timbered barn doesn't look good covered in grey panels.

OK, a quick dinner before another night under canvas - the hall is small and very cramped.

The Swedish Army

Andreas (right) and Matthias (center) somehow always manage to get first in line for every meal. They're great guys. I try to follow them, but somehow I always seem to get elbowed aside. Looks like Jan the medic was strategically positioned for tonight's dinner!

Stage 22 - Schillingsfürst

A long day again - over 50 miles and 11.5 hours running - but a better one for me. My cold / cough seems to be improving, my listing to the left didn't get worse, and despite another megablister my feet and legs seemed to be working OK. Psychologically, it's nice that we have only one more 50 mile day tomorrow, before we drop back into the 40-45 mile range for the rest of the week.

The weather today was probably the very best it has been - nice temps and a mix of sun and cloud and gently breezes. The course was pleasing on the eye and quiet too, in part because it is Sunday. Running with lots of traffic all day is surprisingly wearing.

So one more huge effort tomorrow, and then hopefully some relief. One day at a time...and indeed, this too shall pass. Thanks to everyone who's checked in and/or commented. It's very encouraging each morning to grab a few thoughts before the craziness gets underway.

Stage 21 - Nattheim

As predicted, today was physically very tough - 50 hilly miles which took over 11 hours to complete. It was hard psychologically too, as we have two more days straight ahead with the same length and "degree of difficulty".

My "listing to the left" didn't get worse today, but my back has become quite painful. My theory is that my muscles are slowly wasting, due to inadequate recovery time and diet. One look at my biceps confirms this - they looked weak and wizened despite working hard all day. And so my back and core muscles aren't able to give my spine the support it needs.

What to do? Well, apart from just sucking it up, I'll continue to try and find more protein each day. As far as recuperation goes, there are no options there - rest is all I do when I'm not eating or running. Lying flat as I am right now writing this definitely feels good.

For positive stuff...the Bavarian scenery continues to impress. Everything is as ever spotless here. Even the cows appear freshly bathed and smelling of roses. It is a surreal corner of the world - litter-free, manicured, and ever so slightly anodyne. It would be an odd place to call home.

And we're 3 weeks done! Some tough days ahead, but I'll be a happy camper when I get on the overnight ferry in Kiel headed for Scandinavia in 12 days time!

Tan lines

Ria Buiten from Holland, one of the leading women. Everyone's getting pretty fried, the Japanese in particular - me, I'm steering clear of skimpy tops.

Hardcore fans!

We are being entertained tonight by a Bavarian band and great local kids. It may not be the Tour de France, but hey, this is their moment! Vielen dank', Pfaffenhausen. We are honored.

Stage 20 - Pfaffenhausen

Today's 40 miles was a relative breeze compared to the three 50 mile days ahead. The weather was good, the terrain was rolling but not truly hilly, and the Bavarian natives were friendly. The sportshall we call home tonight is delightfully spacious and modern, with fully functional hot showers.

Like most of us here, I feel very, very weary. By close of business tomorrow, we will have run 880 miles in 3 weeks. That's probably why!

I felt OK today, but I have developed a worrying, unconscious list to the left as I run. Some things - sailors' hats, for example - look good at a jaunty angle. Runners don't though. I think my body is trying to protect my injured right hip, hamstrings and sciatic nerve, but it's a little freaky, especially because I'm unaware of it until I see my shadow or reflection. Oh well, a new thing to work on tomorrow.

Something tells me it's Friday (days here don't really mean anything, except maybe with regard to traffic), so have a great weekend doing whatever normal people do - i.e., not running 100 miles!

Stage 19 - Seeg (pic)

Neuschwanstein castle, from Füssen.

Just had to include this one - a glorious (OK, touristy) place we've been to before. But it is amazing.

Stage 19 - Seeg (pic)

Approaching Reutte, Austria.

These flat, traffic-free, hard-to-get-lost-on bike trails are the very best.

Stage 19 - Seeg (Germany!)

Today's 44 mile stage started with a long, cold, traffic-heavy climb up and over the Fernpass (the place where, apparently, Hannibal's elephant concept went horribly wrong). By 8am though, we had reached the summit, and were able to enjoy a more restful and sunny descent through the towns of Lermoos and Reutte.

Somewhere around mile 30, we passed into Germany. Not a sign, flag, or anything to indicate our arrival...except...and I kid you not...the world's largest wheelbarrow. I was too busy looking for a border sign and forgot to snap the wheelbarrow. Oh well, you'll have to take my word for it. Just imagine a very big wheelbarrow, and there you have it.

So then we passed through the lovely old town of Füssen, where people actually cheered for us, and then on to the finish at the village of Seeg. A wonderful Bavarian reception awaited us, with cheering at the finish line, that lederhosen dancing thing, sausages and rolls, and requests from star-struck kids for autographs. Now that's more like it!

The day was filled with beautiful blue skies (i.e., hot) and stunning views. Another 40 miler tomorrow, then three 50+ miles days after that which should prove, um, challenging. But one day at a time.

Stage 18 - Nassereith

"Only" a 38 mile day today, but dominated by a 7 mile climb over the Reissepass. Here's a photo of second place runner René Strossny actually running up it! At a brisk walk, it took the rest of us mere mortals 2 hours to get to the summit at over 5000 ft.

Several quicker folks had issues today with shin splints - very painful swelling in the shins - caused by the long, steep descents. My cautious pace downhill has helped me avoid them completely. Now if only I could get rid of this cold...

Tomorrow we reach Germany, and pass through beautiful places like Füssen that Claire and I have visited before. But 30 more Austrian miles to go before we reach the border.

Stage 17 - Pfunds (pic)

The apple blossom in the foreground is amazing right now, and covers miles of fields. Villages and mountains beyond are each more beautiful than the next.

Stage 17 - Pfunds (Austria!)

I'm very pleased to have arrived in Austria. Italy was a long and at times very difficult struggle, but 59 of the original 68 starters have made it.

The middle section of today's stage - before we hit the border - involved some long, serious uphills. As an analog, imagine running for 15 miles, then spending 3 hours at the gym on a stair stepper, then running another 15 miles. Oh, and at 35 degrees and into biting northerly headwinds. (See, I don't want to make this sound easy!) To compensate, the scenery was again beyond superlatives.

The most dangerous part of the entire race so far was a 3-mile stretch of unlit tunnels, which we had to share with cars and 18-wheelers. We were thoughtfully issued with reflective jackets before entering - nice touch, eh? The stuff of nightmares - but I think everyone made it.

Stage 16 - Schlanders (pics)

Covered bridges, castles, rivers, mountains, all accessible by apparently endless cycle paths. This is a cool place indeed.

Stage 16 - Schlanders (pics)

Littered with beautiful schlosses, I've been very impressed by this Süd Tyrol region of Italy.

Stage 16 - Schlanders

Today went very well. The hills were not of the up, up, up variety, except in two places. The weather was ideal - cloudy & cool. The scenery was out of this world. And my mojo at least partially returned, as nothing really hurt too badly, and I was finally happy with my running.

Austria tomorrow! If only I could get rid of this hacking cough...

Injury treatment

People get desperate! Here Shiro from Japan is practicing moxibustion (okyu in Japanese) on Frenchman Christophe Midelet's leg injuries. It involves setting little incense-like cones on fire at acupuncture points on the skin. Ouch!

Sorry to report that Christophe is still struggling each day.

Stage 15 - San Michele

Whew! Not as bad as & thought ... except for the last 5 miles, but we'll get to that.



So last night I finally managed some good quality sleep, after my fish and salami sandwiches (no, NOT mixed together...ugh). I also experimented successfully with taping anti-inflammatory pads to my feet, which helped to reduce footfall pain, so this morning it looked more like I was running than hobbling.



The first 40 miles continued along the bike paths by the Adige river. No car traffic, but Sunday cyclists everywhere. Headwinds were less, but the afternoon was hot - in the mid-eighties - so nice for the cyclists, but not ideal for us.



The last 5 miles into San Michele were up, up, up. Not exactly what the doctor ordered, but good preparation for the next two stages, which I think will be equally hilly.



One interesting point of note is that this part of Italy is German-speaking. Every sign is a mélange of German, Italian and English. Tomorrow we head to Schlanders (still in Italy - see what I mean?) before hitting Austria on Stage 17.

Stage 14 - Nomi

Most of the day was spent on bike paths on the Adige river, as we headed north upstream towards Austria. Traffic was either light or non-existent, but headwinds made much of the day uncomfortable. Cyclists looked at us strangely, but were interested to hear about our route.

Stage 14 - Nomi

The scenery was spectacular - vines in the foreground, medieval town and castle behind, all framed by beautiful Alpine geology.

Stage 14 - Nomi

A very tough day for me today...but let's start with positives:

We're two weeks done, and we've run an outrageous 575 miles;
We're only two days from Austria;
The weather today was sunny and very warm;
My blisters are healing, and I have no achilles or shin splint problems (quite rare here);
The scenery is spectacular - I'll try and post a couple of photos later.

OK, for the negatives:
My feet were really horribly painful today, especially my left one;
There was a fierce headwind for much of our 43 miles today - that gets very draining;
Tomorrow's stage is at least 5 miles longer, and way hillier. Given that I took over 10 hours to complete today, tomorrow could be as much as 13 hours - ouch!

So tonight I skipped the restaurant dinner so I could spend more time elevating and resting my feet. I've kept the protein and calories coming with salami and fish sandwiches, washed down with copious quantities of yoghurt. Like I always say, a glamorous life! And in 9 short hours, the fun begins again.

Stage 13 - Pescantina

Jan the medic (known affectionately now as Mister Blister) worked his magic on my feet this morning, and I made some judicious, last-minute shoe and sock modifications. The net result was my most pain-free day on the road so far. I ran 42 miles in up to 84 degree heat, most of it with my Swiss friend, Christian Marti. We finished in a little over 9 hours, and saved plenty for the hills, which start tomorrow.

As it's May Day here in Europe, truck traffic was blissfully light. I really don't enjoy running as a contact sport.

We are now level with the south shore of Lake Garda, to its east. Tomorrow will be spent working our way 43 miles to the north end of the lake. We have only 3 days left in Italy, before moving on to Austria. Tomorrow's our official two week anniversary! Now I've got my "flatland" legs working again, it'll be interesting to see how they respond to hills, which they haven't seen in days.

Too much pasta, too little time

It will be many years before I'll be able to face rigatoni again! Meals tend to be interminable (when all you want is sleep) and uninspiring (seems like all the caterers have heard that stuff about runners "carbo-loading" - there's never an ounce of protein - or flavor - in sight!).

Sorry for bitching.

Race versus journey

My Trans Europe experience is very much a journey, not a race. I know that if I pushed for good times and obsessed over my classification (which I think is currently somewhere around 40th), then I would end up injured and abandoning. So my "strategy" is paying off thus far. But what's happening in the race up front?

One great feature of the race is that the first 12 finishers from the previous stage get to start 1 hour later at 7am. Because of that, we get to see them scream past us sometime between 3 and 4 hours after our start. It is amazing to see how consistently hard they can work.

The leaders are currently Rainer and René, both from Germany. Today - for the first time - I actually saw them working together, rather than trying to run each other into the ground. They are running 3hr30 marathon pace...the whole way! Japanese and Scandinavians make up the next few places.

On the women's side, Hiroko for Japan is dominant, but Ria from Holland is having a great race too. Japanese and Germans make up the other leader places.

These are amazing, humble people I am privileged to have gotten to know. I hope they are enjoying the journey as much as me.

Stage 12 - Ostiglia

An amazing day! It started inauspiciously; cold, windy and rainy. I was very tired at first from yesterday, and just slogged through the first 15 miles. Then, suddenly, the course headed onto a bridge...which turned out to be across the River Po. A truly dramatic sight - at least 3/4 mile wide, and extremely flooded. Water and flotsam was flying downstream beneath us. But it got even better.

Our course took us along the towpath on the other bank for about 5 miles. There, suddenly, off on the horizon, were unmistakably snow-capped Alps. After nearly two weeks of toil getting to this point, it suddenly all seemed worth it! I got quite choked up. I know it'll take us a couple more days before we start climbing, but if I was Hannibal, I'd be putting in the elephant order now!

I was done running before 1pm, so had plenty of time for miserably cold showers, laundry, and a walk to town for a kebab (well, not too veggie, but I really need protein). Today's 31 miles were much nicer than tomorrow's 43!

Stage 11 - Alberone

Today was, simply put, exhausting. We ran 54 miles - more than two marathons - and lots of people looked very much the worse for wear over dinner.

The course was quite flat, as we're crossing what is I guess the Po delta, a huge expanse of very fertile farmland which was once under water. The weather for the "first" marathon was nice - cool and cloudy - but severe thunderstorms built up in time for the "second". Let's just say that it rained a great deal, and very quickly. It also left the narrow, two-lane roads covered in huge, muddy puddles, which compounded traffic problems.

Tonight I'm sleeping in a church - the hall was full by the time I crossed the finish line a full 12 hours after our 6am start. A strange feeling, but I could honestly sleep anywhere at this point.

Tomorrow is a much kinder 30 miles - more of a sprint, really! One piece of trivia I worked out on the road - today I completed my 50th Ultra run (i.e., greater than a 26.2 mile marathon). Shame I'm too tired to celebrate!

Stage 10 - Lugo

Stage numbers finally in double digits - woohoo! (Sorry for the delayed posting - many tasks after
running today, including a long walk from the town square finish to the gym, an MRI, medical tests, and laundry.)

Today's 43 miles was blighted by 3 "police on scene" car wrecks. The first one included 3 cars, a truck, and three fatalities. Horrible. I thought the race might get shut down, but they directed us right through the middle of the carnage. It put our lives and adventures into perspective.

The course was long, flat, sunny, and very dangerous. One or two more have abandoned today for both physical and mental reasons. It's never easy finding the right words to say to folks who are devastated by quitting. A big preoccupation is tomorrow's monster 54 mile stage, which most of us are silently dreading.

I just had my medical measurements taken. Unfortunately, I've gained a lot of weight (5kgs, or 11lbs). This happened to me in Germany too. I have to work with the doctors to quickly figure out how to reduce my "water weight". Extra salt & bananas haven't been doing the trick.

OK, on to dinner. It'll be Jenny Craig for me soon at this rate!

Stage 9 - Bellaria

Today's 45 miles was in two distinct and completely different halves - the first was very hilly, through some spectacular scenery just inland from the rocky coastline, and the second was a gale force windy half along the mainly deserted seafront, including the resort town of Rimini. Both were draining in their own way.

For our efforts, we were greeted at the finish by cold showers for the first time. But at least we're staying in a modern volleyball gym tonight.

Consecutive long days and hills are causing lots of shin splint issues, even amongst some of the leaders. I actually overtook one of the top ten guys in the final miles today, as he hobbled cursing to the finish. At least one more competitor has abandoned today, and I'm expecting more over the next two long stages.

I continue to eat well. Sore feet are my only real complaint. I'm going to experiment with a different pair in the morning, but will leave my current shoes with the 20k aid station folks, in case I need to switch back.

We leave the coast tomorrow - goodbye Adriatic! And after 9 stages, we're actually one seventh done. Good thoughts.

Stage 8 - megablister postscript

Before Jan operated, he first took a photo of "the biggest blister he's ever seen". Avoiding infection is the key - once again I have a rubber glove on my foot til bedtime. He'll tape it in the morning before we run.

OK, I promise to post no further ghoulish blister shots!

Stage 8 - Fano

A 46 mile day today. Very big hills for the first third into Ancona, then plenty of flat stuff along the seafront to Fano. During the day, the weather cooperated - again cool and cloudy - and there were nice tailwinds along the coast. Now, however, is not so good. Heavy rain and strong winds have blown in as I lie in my tent, as yet unwashed and unfed. I guess our good fortune had to come to and end sometime!

My running today felt good despite persistently sore feet and a couple of new, supersized blisters. Hopefully I can track Jan the medic down shortly, and get some treatment. I was running for 10 hours today. Although I'm tired, a lot seem in worse shape than I. We have four more of these longer days ahead too.

I'm eating well at the aid stations , which I think is helping me stay relatively strong. Today I concentrated on getting lots of bananas, as I think my potassium levels may be low. I washed them down with cheese & salt on crackers, tomatoes, apples, gherkins, salami sandwiches, peanuts, cake, chocolate, cookies, granola bars, apple juice and coke. Great diet, eh? Luckily my dental hygienist Michelle gave me some heavy duty fluoride toothpaste before I left!

Well, I'm off to brave the elements in search of food, and hopefully a shower. Thanks for all the kind comments from friends, family, former co-workers, Rogue runners, and anyone else who's following along. It really helps me through the long hours on the road.

Stage 7 - Porto Recanati

One week successfully finished. Here's what feet look like after a 272 mile week! Both are pretty swollen, and so I've moved up a shoe size. Jan my medic friend has done a good job preventing infection in the two blistered toes. Last night I slept with my toes bathed in iodine, and wearing a rubber glove...on my left foot! Curiouser and curiouser.

Today was an OK but fairly long stage - 45 miles. The weather cooperated - cool at the start, then a mix of sunny and cloudy. As today is a national holiday in Italy, truck traffic was much diminished, but there were loads of holidaymakers all along the seafront which made for quite a bit of dodging and diving. I again ran most of the day with Jean-Hervé - our paces and temperaments are quite compatible. My legs and feet felt good til halfway, but then started to feel tired towards the end. Fancy that!

Two more days along the coast, then we'll start to venture inland towards hills and eventually Alps. But I'm getting ahead of myself - one slow day at a time. Oh, and I understand from rumour that we've had our first two "abandons". :( I'm expecting more with 3 very long days ahead.

Endless lines for food

The speed of Italian catering cannot hope to match the calorific demands of 68 runners and their crews. Lines seem endless - not good for ravenous folk. Tonight's pizza line seemed particularly tortuous.

Luckily, Trond and Ria had gone on a brief shopping expedition earlier today, and returned with 3 half chickens for us. A lifesaver. We fell upon and devoured them like my dogs would have.

Stage 6 - San Benedetto del Tronto

Today started, like all days on the Trans Europe Footrace, at the ungodly hour of 4am. The mad scrum which is breakfast is at 5am, and then we start running at 6am. This continues anywhere between 6 and 10 hours, with aid stations every 6 miles or so.

Today was our shortest stage so far - just over 30 miles. The weather was fairly perfect for running - cool and cloudy, rain threatening but not materializing. I finished not long after noon, blissfully early to be able to start recuperation.

So now I'm showered and lying in my sleeping bag on a gym floor, hoping to get a few hours sleep before dinner. If dinner is on time at 6pm, I can usually get to bed by 7:30pm. Nightlife? Not so much!

Today's course continued along the Adriatic seafront. There were few hills, and miles of still deserted beaches. We're now north of Rome (which is on the opposite, Tyrrhenian Sea coast), so it feels like we're making progress.

My legs and energy levels felt good today. My only issue today is with very sore feet, which despite the love I heap upon them don't seem to appreciate the 227 miles I've run in the last 6 days. Hopefully anti-inflammatories and a cold soak will give some relief before another longer stage tomorrow.

Stage 5 - somewhere beyond Pescara

Quite a hilly first half today, then lots of sunshine and heat as we passed along miles of seafront. Not bad for this Texas transplant, but others from colder climates didn't seem to appreciate it. It's not quite the season yet, so everything is starting up but not too crowded.

As expected, quite a few runners are starting to hobble badly with shin splints. Downhills are particularly aggravating for them, and there were plenty of steep ones this morning. I'm doing OK - blisters no worse, and sensible, conservative pacing means I'm not yet hurt.

I ran a lot today with my French friend Jean-Hervé - we helped each other through the long miles. Right now, I'm blogging from my tent - tonight is its maiden voyage. It's quite comfortable compared to a crowded, noisy sports hall. The line for the showers seemed endless a while ago.

Anyhow, today's done - tomorrow is another (thankfully not too long) day.

Post-dinner soak

Dinner was finally great - antipasta, lasagna, salad, chicken & fries, and fruit (and wine for some). I was preternaturally hungry. It's amazing what a psychological lift food gives fatigued people.

Now I'm standing in this VERY cold pool, with the Adriatic Sea in the background, hoping to calm my hot, aching feet. Life is good!

Stage 4 - 162 miles done

A more scenic day today. Grey skies all day, but no rain. We ran parallel with the coast, with our first major climb into and out of the town of Vasto. Today's course was supposed to be 39 miles, but my GPS had it measured at over 40.

This is our second campsite night - another crowded bungalow, but with its own shower & toilet. Not too bad.

The race up front is starting to heat up. There are at least 8 very strong runners, who are already starting to duke it out. Three Germans are in the lead; I'm rooting for my Norwegian and Finnish friends, Trond and Janne. Predictably Hiroko is leading the women's field - one amazing runner. I, on the other hand, am probably enjoying the journey more than they all are, comfortable in the peleton and getting to know some new friends. I just wish my Japanese was better - but at least my Italian is improving!

OK, nap time for this tortoise!

Stage 3 - the final birthday celebration

My wonderful French friends - Gerard, icole, Jean-Herve, Melyne, Alain, Christophe, Roger, Fabrice & J-B - just gave me a great birthday cake complete with candles. (I can't seem to post the picture...anyhow...) Excellent friends to spend my birthday with, if I can't be home.

Stage 3 - the birthday stage (cont.)

Thanks to everyone for the birthday wishes - too many to reply to individually, I'm afraid, as my conscious time is short, and my technology is limited here.

Today was long - 45 miles - my legs felt very tired and heavy after 123 miles in 3 days. No surprise there! The day was rainy and windy, and traffic along the main Adriatic coast road, the SS16, was pretty ghastly. The police were very much in evidence. They cruised up and down with flashing lights, and didn't seem to appreciate our presence. They did not, however, seem to care much about the prostitutes plying their trade every couple of miles at the side of the road. Extraordinary.

I was done in a little over 9 hours. It's a long time to be on your feet. My aid station fare today included: salted tomatoes, pickled gherkins, chocolate cookies, pears, apples, bananas, cheese on crackers, bread, coke, apple juice and water. I think I covered most of the major foodgroups!

Right now we're holed up at a campsite for the night. The great news is that we get bungalows with a shower and real bunk beds. Birthday luxury!

Tomorrow is back down to 39 miles. Blisters continue to multiply, but should be OK with a little suffering, plus disinfectant and needle treatment from Jan tonight. It's a glamorous life, eh?

OK, nap time, then the usual dinner adventure to come.

Stage 2 - the birthday stage

It's Hiroko's birthday today too. One crazy party likely tonight - after 45 miles today, I might even stay up til 8:30pm!

Stage 2 - the gruesome post

Not for the squeamish. Toenails on my left foot are starting to take a pounding, even despite running with toeboxes cut out of my sneakers. I think maybe slightly tight socks plus rain today were the culprits. Jan the medic has worked on them already. Now I need to invent a modified sock design to alleviate the pressure on what's left of my toenails for tomorrow's longer stage.

Stage 2 - the pretty post

Today's 69km (43 miles) was mainly lined with vineyards. Who drinks all this wine?! The wild flowers bordering them are just fantastic right now. I captured just one typical sample. Poppies, daisies, and lots I can't name. Spectacular. I hate to be disloyal, but Austin bluebonnets don't come close.

It drizzled refreshingly most of the day, and the temperatures were ideal. I'm whipped after over 8 hours of running, but now I can lie on my "bed" (bliss!) and console myself with the thought of being 3 percent done!

Boston

In all the excitement, I nearly forgot...good luck to everyone I know running Boston today... enjoy your "victory lap"!

Barletta

Here's our spacious accommodation in Barletta. We are now officially 57km from Bari. Day 1 was a short stage of "only" 36 miles. It was flat, it didn't rain much, and the wind was mostly at our backs. The route was a mixture of scenic Italian seaside towns, ugly industrial complexes, and long, straight country roads. I'm tired and my legs are sore, but nothing too bad. My blood pressure reading at the finish was 90 over 60 - no wonder I felt like I was about to keel over again! Apple juice and a seat helped.

At one point today, a policeman stopped me and asked where we were going. I respectfully addressed him as "Signore", described the countries we were passing through, and our destination, Norveggia (Norway). He was duly impressed, and even drove past us later and gave a friendly wave.

I ran sensibly and conservatively today, let some faster people like Mike Friedl and Hans Damm go at halfway, and finished in a middle-of-the- pack 6.5 hours. Coach Claire should be proud! OK, now I'm really hungry. Dinner is in one hour. I could eat a veggie horse.

Blogging on the start line...

Ain't technology wonderful!

A rainy but cool day...a great day to be in Italy and on the road.

Luggage hostage crisis just ended!

Big sigh of relief - I've never been happier to see two suitcases. Like Joni Mitchell said, "you don't know what you've got til it's gone".

I've picked up my race number, and now everyone's in town and raring to go. Now I'm going to try and wash my dirty clothes before they run off to Norway without me.

Benvenuti a Bari, part "due"

With no luggage in sight, I decided to go walking, to get oriented, and hopefully to find the race site at Stadio della Vittoria. I did both, and ran into this delightful specimen on the sidewalk in one of the seamier parts of town. Delightful.

The good news is that I managed to find the stadium, race director Ingo, the medical team, and a number of old friends - Jan, Tomas & Helmut from Germany, Gerard & Nicole from France, Trond from Sweden and Ria from Holland.

I gave blood and urine samples (I swear I'm "clean"!), and spent a very uncomfortable & claustrophobic hour being MRI'd.

Three days to go. I have one pair of sneakers and the clothes I'm wearing. I ask you - would Lance put up with this?! But at least the man on the Hotel Boston desk has been very helpful trying to track down my luggage - full marks there. Patience, patience.

Benvenuti a Bari

Welcome to Bari, indeed! It would have been much nicer if my luggage had arrived on the same day that I did. It's still worryingly missing - thanks a millions, Alitalia. And doubly infuriating as they charged me nearly $400 in overweight charges.

So after a long wait at the airport to file a missing bag claim, a taxi driver brought me to my hotel. He had absolutely no regard for any street sign, road marking or speed limit. Neither did he seem to believe that sharp cornering at 70mph was in any way challenging the laws of physics. I think I tipped him more as an offering to the gods, than for his maniacal service.

Roses from Kenya

Thought for the day, six days from the start...
I was supermarket shopping today in England with my father, and spotted a huge display of roses. "They're probably from Kenya", he suggested ... and he was quite correct. I was amazed - roses grown in Kenya, then shipped and sold in UK suburbia. Now, I'm sure that Kenya could use the export trade...but...how surreally ungreen is all that? Trucks at both ends, cargo ship in the middle, and all for perishable items which last a week. Maybe not the biggest contributor to global warming, but crazy wasteful nonetheless. And last time I checked, roses do actually grow prettty well in England!

I've had 3 comfortable runs each day since I got here, just to keep everything flexible, and to remind my legs of what's to come. Today Claire joined me along the towpath of our local canal, and we chatted for 6 easy miles. Miraculously at this stage, nothing hurts. I fly to Rome and then on to Bari on Thursday. I'm ready - or at least as ready as I'll ever be!

Austin is one Fit City

And big thanks also to Pam LeBlanc of the Austin American Statesman, a long time supporter of my crazy adventures, who gave me a nice plug on her Fit City blog today. Don't trust her natural modesty - Pam's a strong runner these days, and to prove it we chatted the whole way. We also had a lot of fun shooting some video with Jorge, and I worked on them both to run Lake Tahoe with our Rogue Running group in September. I'm betting even money that they'll be there!

Local TV last night

Thanks to reporter Jim Swift, our local news station KXAN ran this great piece on my race last night.

L'Aquila earthquake

The epicenter of today's tragic earthquake in Italy was only about 30 miles west of our race route on days 5 and 6 (April 23-24). A terrible nightmare situation for everyone in the region. I wonder what damage we'll see along the way? Our campsite plans on the nights of stages 3 thru 8 could be affected, but I'm pleased that we're not staying in sports halls or school gyms on those nights, which could be weakened by today's quake, or even destroyed by aftershocks with us sleeping inside them. Scary stuff, and yet another horrendous unforeseen complication for our poor race director Ingo, as he tries to get us through Italy.

It's April tomorrow!

Gulp! Only 19 days to the start of the race. What was once years, and then months, away is now just around the next very sharp corner. Today was officially my last day at work; my co-workers sent me off in their usual wonderful style. All I have left to do now is running, packing, eating, taking care of my dogs, and attempting to stay healthy.

I know race director Ingo Schultze (behind me in this photo) is having problems arranging accommodations in Italy. He's a great guy, and I hope he can work something out. Camping is our fallback strategy, which is fine with me unless the rain gods decide not to cooperate. At this point it looks like I'll be spending my 54th birthday weary and under canvas. Cool, eh?

Four weeks to go...

For the last two years, time has moved very slowly towards the start of this race. Now it seems to be picking up the pace. I have several big things I need to get done before the start - a family wedding in New Jersey, retiring from my corporate job after 23 years, getting all my equipment together and carefully packing it, running a decent number of final training miles, and then travelling to the UK for a few days to see my family, before flying on to Bari in Italy.

My chief nutritionist Claire has recently switched me to a veggie "Engine 2" diet. I feel surprisingly good - plenty of energy, and a certain "lightness of being". And it's all very tasty. I gave up alcohol last July, and now goodbye to meat and dairy, at least until the race gets underway. What an ascetic life!

Some interesting news with 5 weeks to go

Wow! Race Director Ingo has just announced that the 2009 Trans Europe Footrace will be accompanied by 3 scientists and a mobile MRI machine from the German Research Foundation and the University Hospital of Ulm. They will be scanning participants regularly and doing what sounds like some fascinating research. Scans will include musculosketal system, brain and mind (or whatever's left of it!), heart and cardiovascular system, and body composition. Very cool stuff. I hope it can help me contend with - or at least understand - issues like the shin splints I had to deal with across France.

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An ironic morning...

My commute to work on foot this morning was interrupted by a lady making a right-on-red turn in a large SUV. After hitting me with the hood on her passenger side, she managed to run over both my feet, and then knock me to the ground with her wing mirror. Why was this ironic? Because my first appointment of the day was with my friend Sarah, our Notary Public, who had kindly agreed to notarize my will this morning. Not a moment too soon, it appears. Now my left foot is very sore, along with my grazed right hip - hopefully nothing broken, so close to the start.

3 months to go to Trans Europe

I celebrated having only 90 days to go to the start of the race last week by running 90 comfortable miles. I've run 300 miles in the last 4 weeks - that's good, except the race will require 300 miles EACH week! Oh well - tortoise and hare attitude required.

Apart from fatigue, the only part of me that's hurting at the moment is my right hip, glut and IT band after 12 or 13 miles. But that does mean that my feet, shins, achilles, quads, hamstrings, SI joint, back and abs are all holding up just fine! I'm always thankful for small mercies. My Raynaud's phenomenon is getting significantly worse, and is making my right hand ever more cadaverously cold and white, but my many pairs of gloves and mittens will hopefully deal with that problem.

Each day, I'm more excited about getting going with this adventure. I've booked a hotel room for 2 nights before the race starts at the Hotel Boston in Bari. I will be there just as Claire heads to Boston again for the 2009 Marathon - what cool symmetry.

I've achieved New Balance!

Christmas came early for me this year, thanks to the good folks at New Balance. Six shiny new pairs of 757s arrived at my Hoover's office today; they should hopefully get a grateful me & my aching feet across Europe.

Four months to go, and feeling strong. My plane ticket to the start line in Bari, Italy is purchased, as well as an optimistic return ticket from the airport closest to the finish - Alta, in northernmost Norway - 10 weeks later. Just the small matter of Austria, Germany, Sweden & Finland in between!

Lake Tahoe 72-mile Ultra

This race starts at 12:01 a.m. at the Pope Beach, Nevada finish line of the Marathon, and the 72.2 mile course is the circumference of the lake. Just before midnight, about 20 intrepid souls with headlamps and reflective gear briefly milled around before been sent off towards the “bright lights” of South Lake Tahoe, home to tacky gambling casinos and a few drunken late-night revellers.

My run started smoothly and easily. Each runner was supposed to have a support crew & vehicle, but I wanted Claire to catch up some overdue sleep (she’d just returned from the UK where grandbaby #2 Ben has just been born), so I ran alone, hoping that the liquids I’d cached the previous two days were still there. Thankfully, they all were. I carried a small waistpack containing two PBJ sandwiches, some GUs and plenty of heavy dose anti-inflammatories.

Once clear of South Lake Tahoe, the streetlights ended, and without light pollution the most incredible display of stars and galaxies came into view. From time to time, I turned off my headlamp for 30 seconds, to get the best possible view. Words cannot describe the sight – a most remarkable 5 hours of stargazing. The lights all across the lake were a perfect man-made complement to nature’s phenomena. The temperatures never got below freezing, and there was almost no wind. In all, a perfect night to run through.

Before 5 a.m., I heard my cellphone ring. It was Claire checking in on me. I was pleased to report good progress. I’d reached 20 miles - the top of Spooner Summit at over 7,000ft - by 3:15 a.m., and was closing in on Incline Village at about 30 miles, still feeling strong as the dawn started to send the stars to bed. Suddenly though I started to have what we can delicately describe as “tummy problems”. Each time I needed to deal with one of these little problems – at least 3 of which I can clearly remember - I would emerge from portajohn or woods to see one or two of my competitors who had passed me while I was indisposed, and were now headed off ahead of me into the gloaming. This was a little worrying and dispiriting, but gradually my system returned to normal as I crossed the stateline back into California with about 37 miles to go. Ultrarunning does teach you patience and the need to accept the inevitability of fate. Eventually I pulled back on the folks who’d passed me, and realized that they were by that time in sorrier shape than I.

Between miles 60 and 66 there are some monster hills on this course and the combination of 75 degree temperatures and brutal climbs was taking its toll, but I confess that I did feel super-strong over the last 6 miles. I had managed to qualify for Western States by completing the first 50 miles in under 11 hours (actually 9 hours 35 minutes), and I got a nice piece of mantelpiece decoration for finishing fourth overall in 14 hours 6 minutes. This was my last real test before attempting Trans Europe in Spring of 2009, and I was very pleased that I managed to complete it feeling strong and without the injuries and pain that have been troubling me for the last two years.

Triathlon Long Course World Championships

Claire placed an outstanding 9th in her age group at the ITU World Championships in Almere, Holland on Sunday. Like many other competitors on a very sunny day, she struggled towards the end of the run, but put in great swim and cycle performances, and beat her goal time of 9 hours by 10 MINUTES! Most importantly, she wasn't intimidated by a field of awesome athletes from all over the world. I was a very happy witness & proud "tri sherpa".

Nine months to go

The start of Trans Europe in Bari, Italy is 9 months away, and it finishes 11 months from today in Norway. Midsummer's Day, in fact - so far north, I'm sure it will be daylight for all 24 hours. I can't wait to get to the Arctic Circle and see the Northern Lights. I'm feeling very good these days; all my muscle problems which made 2007 so miserable & painful for me have receded, and training is going very well. 70+ miles this week was no problem, and so I'm getting more confident that I will be able to ramp my mileage and make it to the start...making it to the finish will be an altogether different and harder challenge.

I like this quote just in from the ocean rower Roz Savage, who's right now in the middle of the Pacific Ocean:

In ordinary life on dry land, I get so wrapped up in the general busy-ness and bustle, and it's only when I get out on the ocean, or into the mountains, or otherwise into the wild, that I am reminded that in the overall span of time and space, my little life - although very important to me - is smaller than a grain of sand on a beach.

Back from Nepal

We made it to Everest Base Camp, and climbed Kala Patthar, both in the 18,000ft range. The last hour or two to Base Camp was terrifying - heading up the Khombu Glacier, we had massive avalanches on our right side and rockslides on our left, as we picked our way over snowy, rocky terrain. Tom got hit by a flying rock on the leg, but adrenalin was flowing, and we made it.

Two weeks sleeping in a tent without seeing a vehicle - let alone a wheel - was a unique experience. The scale of the Himalayas is unforgettable yet so hard to describe, let alone photograph. But as ever, it's good to be home.

More photos at:
http://s316.photobucket.com/albums/mm354/rsecker/?albumview=grid

Busy June...

I'm heading to Nepal and Mt Everest base camp with my newly graduated son Tom, before he leaves Austin to become a UNC Tarheel. Other son Rob heads to Anchorage, Alaska by bike with the Texas 4000 program, and Claire does her first Ironman in Coeur d'Alene. A crazy month!