Ugh this was hard and I probably shouldn’t have done it because now I can’t walk.

The expedition stage starts at Dewey Bridge which is also a put-in site for float trips down the Colorado. The day after this race ends we are doing one of those trips with my sister, her partner, their 8 year old, and my adult niece. I’m really looking forward to that. This seems more relaxing than running 41 miles.

Coming into this race last year I had pretty low expectations, and the emotional/neurotic journey surrounding my unexpected win is discussed at length in the blog entries from the time.

Bill did a lot better on day one with his rental suspension bike than he did last year on his fat bike (Surly ECR) — zero crashes compared to four last year, much less exhausting trying to stay upright, and of course it’s much cooler this year. A mere 91 degrees.

We definitely continued to improve on the bikes and I continued to have deep thoughts about evolving abilities and cognition, and memories that pop up out of nowhere. I’m working up a theory of how we are actually Westworld hosts and that’s why we keep coming back to Utah. 

We are back at Eklecticafe but not going to linger long enough for me to compose a complete blog post using my thumbs. So here are some pics and I’m keeping notes to flesh this out later. As usual I had lots of thoughts about adventure and mindfulness  and learning and how this all relates to playing the bassoon. Also it’s pretty here.

We’re not going to have much internet during the actual race and my keyboard isn’t pairing with my phone so most blogging will be done after the end of this trip... but at the moment we are sitting in our favorite Moab haunt, Eklecticafe, and I have a few photos to share from the first 24 hours of our trip.

I think Catra's boyfriend Phil might be the kindest man in the world. We both showed up at the portaloos at the same time this morning and only one of them had TP so he let me go first

I know I've said this before but I REALLY did not sleep well last night. For once it wasn't hot since this camp is at higher elevation -- in fact we borrowed a sleeping bag from one of the volunteers to throw over the two of us. I was just flying on some chemical soup

Today’s the big “expedition” stage, 42 miles and a shit ton of climbing. 

At breakfast we learned the full story of what happened with Hans and the three runners who came in at 10:30. At some point beyond the shade-bridge with the water drop, Hans collapsed on the trail.

I did not sleep well at all. It was really hot in the tent; it took until about 3 AM for the ground to cool. I could seriously feel the heat being drawn up through my pad, as if a charging computer or a 54 pound pitbull was sharing the bed.

Thirteen years ago, two months after Bill and I had met on an Adventure Cycling tour, we came to Moab and rented some mountain bikes.

Did I mention we got up at 3 AM which is 1 AM Utah time? And that I had a particularly bad night's sleep a few days earlier, three concerts this weekend, a retirement event for some colleagues and a visit from my parents?

I first contacted Desert RATS race director Reid Delman in August of 2016. Less than a year earlier, on my 50th birthday, I had run my first marathon. I didn’t exactly enjoy it other than the part where you “achieve” something -- something which is, let's be honest, kind of pointless.