A Flying Ultra

37 hours with a max elevation of about 11,000 mtrs. That's a decent ultra. I'll probably even get to experience some dehydration, sleep deprivation, and maybe even slight nausea. I'll pass through checkpoints they call 'Auckland' and 'San Francisco' on the way to the finish line in Calgary.

But then I'll find out that it's really just a long transition stop there, as I re-hydrate, get massaged, and head back out for another 13 hours up to 11,000 mtrs again. That checkpoint is known as Dublin.

From there, I get to change clothes (fresh clothes always feel good), check for blisters, and then head out for a short 71km burst to the finish line somewhere in the hills of Connemara. There's only 2,000 mtrs gain in that last section as far as I can tell, so it should feel pretty easy compared to the journey to get to there!

At least, that's what I'm going to tell myself.

This past Saturday had a few of us out to enjoy +800 mtrs at Walyunga over 2.5 hrs. Much easier to chase boys up hills without a head cold. But there was still a lot of chasing! All my pictures are of their backsides. The new guy got his initiation into trail running while volunteering in Nepal. I call him sherpa now (but I don't think he knows it). I'd call him rabbit, but we already have one of those in the group.

On Sunday, while most people headed out to a local 16k race, the same three of us (plus 30 others) attended a really useful barefoot clinic with a wise, fit, and witty guy named Max. Who won my heart as a trail and ultra runner, too.

Okay, it's time to go for a little walk to stretch out in the fresh air before donning my compression socks. I hate goodbyes!