I am parked roadside, on the dustiest road I've seen in my recent outings. I think this is an ominous sign for tomorrow - this devil's dust is going to be everywhere tomorrow and for months into my future. I've changed my shoe choice, going for a more solid barrier. I am not sure if there is any stopping this.
With a pieace of good news, I found out tonight at the run briefing that I don't have to carry the 'Plain' rock for the 100 miles. It gets to sit in a bag or vehicle and be exchanged if I finish. I found this out early. There was really no other good news to be had. The rest of it was just news - no aid, help, stashes, support, nada. Oh, and there is water out there, except when there isn't. Have the best time.
This room is filled with an odd collection of humans. This is voluntary suffering at its most refined. With grins and jokes, we muddled through instructions and details of what is to come.
Dinner was all the food - lasagna, spaghetti, salads, garlic bread, and more desserts than I knew what to do with. I chatted with HAM radio operators while we ate, the lifeline of this whole ordeal in the woods. I left our conversations marveling at the community that they have constructed together. Oh, how wonderful it is to be in community with like-passioned humans. I enjoyed witnessing their comraderie and learning about what they do.
Back on the roadside, the light is waning. The sky is that off-hued blue, slowly fading to gray, any hint of saturation drained from its palette. My bag is packed, maybe even overpacked. If all goes well, I won't need half what is in its blue, ripstop walls. If I explode tomorrow, I may be able to do so in the utmost comfort. This course is going to be rough. I think back to my Leadville finish, the only hundred I have in my pocket, comparisons awkward at this point. Tomorrow, I will be gaining 6000 more feet of elevation, but at nowhere near the altitude of Leadville. Tomorrow, support will be waiting at mile 60 and 100; in Leadville there was food and people at every turn. I wonder about my mind, if it is strong enough, tenacious enough to get through tomorrow. I wonder about my ankle, When will the pain start? Will I be able to manage/tolerate what has been so inevitable? My mind is going in circles. I am a contained mess.
I look forward to some sleep, whatever might be available to me tonight. For the next two days I will take whatever might be given. This will be miserable. It will also be deligthful. A sneaky both/and.
Goodnight.
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