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Gobi March Blogs 2024
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PostsGobi March (2024) blog posts from James Crowe
29 June 2024 08:00 pm (GMT+08:00) Irkutsk, Ulaan Bataar
My friend Ivan and I were sitting in the sun, at the last camp, and chatting about life as one does here. He said simply “This is paradise.” And I noticed it more. We were in it together. We’re pitched on the side of the Orkhon River, underneath a short peak, at the end of the UNESCO treasure Orkhon Valley through which we just ran, through stunning mountain wilderness, the site of the battle grounds of Genghis Khan. There are short trees surrounding the camp, and a breeze blows intermittently. The sun is shining. We’re all feeling good about the day and the week, as we near the end of the party. Eating the last day meal, and feeling oneness as a group.
The camp is culturally interesting. A family has brought an enormous eagle to camp, and allows runners to each post the eagle on an arm with a leather sleeve. That bird was so heavy! And beautiful. Chestnut browns, with white areas and spots. I waved my arm back and forth as directed and his full wing span expanded to cover me. He sidestepped a bit and one claw came onto my bare arm, wow that is a powerful grip. The girl helping was in traditional dress, a headband of white and red beads, with dangly decorations that swished when she moved, and a multilayered robe with a black collar, and varied colored reds of tapestry with woven borders of black, with intricate floral designs, and the red fabric had complex circular patterns woven in pink, maybe a Buddhist symbol, I’m not sure.
A brother had brought hundreds of pieces of craft or antiques, and laid them out on a tarp on the ground. Old silver and copper pieces, old coins, hand made knives with cow horn handles, bells, small statuettes in brass or copper (mostly of horses or cows, a few turtles?, and some Buddhist figures. The iconography of what’s important in this land is interesting, a mixture of shamanism and Buddhism. The extreme closeness and interdependence with animals, which is obvious when you are here, makes sense as a spiritual force - cows, sheep and goats for food and clothing, and horses for speed and transport. The horses have a special place in the home. And, one of the families we visited last night commented “you can get really rich if you have a very fast racing horse.” I didn’t follow that exactly, but there must be races. That would be something to see.
It’s 6 pm, which is close to my bedtime here! There is just the matter of sleeping another night together and trying to stay warm, and then a last quick breakfast and an early 10k race to the finish. Apparently national elections are occurring now here and there is some uncertainty or other accommodations around that (like no drinking!). We celebrate at a meal together tomorrow night. Lord willing, I should finish now, given its only 6 miles, though anything can happen. I’ll be glad to run through the banner at the monastery.
28 June 2024 07:00 pm (GMT+08:00) Irkutsk, Ulaan Bataar
Rivers, alpine meadows, eagles. Today’s stage gave us many presents, many new features we had not seen or fully experienced in country yet.
It rained a lot last night. Everything felt wet inside or out of the tents (at some point a canvas Kodiak tent will share condensation in side). I was a bit cold at night but mostly just my feet. I woke at 2:30 with the blisters on the outer side of both my heels with a piercing “on fire” feeling. But then I repositioned them so nothing was touching them and it was okay. Weirdly I remembered an advertisement from childhood for new sneakers I wanted: “Red Ball Jets - Run Faster and Jump Higher”. They had a little red dot imprinted on the heel rubber. It was like a jet afterburner. So, my mind made that felicitous connection. Then I was back to sleep. I woke as usual about 5 am but then, I lay in my sleeping bag for almost another hour. It was just hard to pop out of bed. But then I only had t2 hours to break camp and that has never been enough, amazingly. I ate my oatmeal and a cup of coffee (forgot to drink any other fluids), then spent 1/2 hour or more trying to dry my socks shirts and shorts over the fire. I converted the odor of these sports synthetics from very sour to very sour with smoke aroma. They dried a bit. I spent 30-45 min taping my feet, tedious, but it seemed the most critical thing. I used the pit latrine, dressed in my now only damp clothes and socks and packed up as I could. I listened to the morning briefing incompletely from afar (from the tent) since I was still packing. I missed the actual start by a minute or two, was still filling my water bottles.
With 20 seconds of the start we were wading through a cold river maybe knee high. This sort of gives me PTSD to start a day with many blisters and then wet feet. But there was no other way to get over. I spent the first 2 or 3 miles still sort of “getting ready”. Adjusting my various pieces of clothing and hat, putting the electrolytes in my bottles, adjusting the tension of everything. Plus the surface was irregular for a few miles (large humps of grass in a mushy field of mud, water, grass). At some point when I finished my day prep on the run I could pay attention and see that for the most part the runners ahead of has threaded a path through most of the little hummocks, and to some extent avoiding water or mud. What did it matter, we had just been through a not-clear river surrounded by grazing land full of cow pies.
Another river, and a check point, not where we anticipated, it was early, and I got a little confused. Two or three more river crossings. Long stretches through grasslands. Eventually we were getting closer to a region that looked more mountainous, and we entered a valley pass. The character of the terrain started to change as we ascended. Much greener. Wildflowers, including species and colors we had not yet seen. Some blue butterflies. Lots of horses, maybe hundreds with multiple sets of yurts (they typically seem to be doubles but this place maybe had five or six doubles). I saw a sturdy woman toting two heavy buckets down the hill, it seemed she had just miles the cows. There was a small boy kicking a soccer ball by himself, but there was no field, just hills. I came upon two boys on the path and we smiled at each other, then I took a selfie with them and they were cheery. Farther into the valley, the mountainous ridges rose to each side. As promised, the terrain reminds of Switzerland, with evergreen trees and waist-high wildflowers, and periodic collections of cows grazing. Or goats. I saw a meerkat, which is a favorite animal, they are so quick and lively. Then, the pitch lifted up. It was still alpine meadow but we were ascending. It felt hotter and harder because of the incline. I was flummoxed by flies and gnats constantly attacking and biting. I exerted a lot or energy swinging my poles to keep the flies away, not always successfully. The forest closed in a bit as we further ascended and we couldn’t see the top. Out of the blue an extra water stop appeared, with friendly faces and refills, and it seemed like only 5 or 10 minutes later we summited and the checkpoint was there but I didn’t stop at all I just waved because we had just refilled.
Suddenly, I felt really good for a bit. It was cool, we could see a long descent down the back of the mountain, and so I ran as fast as my blistered feet would allow. For me, it was fast (my watch was reading 9 something min per mile for a bit). Eventually we were down the back side of the mountain and into rolling hills of the valley, extremely beautiful, and with frequent yurt sites and lots of cattle. We had to pass constantly through cattle (this makes me a bit nervous when the steer with large horns at the front seems gruff and focused on my passing), but it was all uneventful. The distance was longer than my watch said it should be (that feeling when you think, it should be over by now but I can’t even see the finish in the distance), but I was in good spirits and ran it out. We turned along a river, which was a good sign, as I knew the final yards was a river crossing. Around a rocky corner, some up and down on irregular surfaces, and I was to the finish. Pulling myself across the river with the rope in my right hand and my poles on the left. The water was cold and a fitting finish. The drum beat and I ran under the banner.
Comments: Total (1) comments
Howard White
Posted On: 28 Jun 2024 12:52 pm
Jim, keep going. Almost done. Only 11 ladies ahead of you. I
27 June 2024 11:00 pm (GMT+08:00) Irkutsk, Ulaan Bataar
Some of us visited some families living nearby, the race organized some cars to move us across the sodden muddy floor of the steppes to places where individual families had sites their two yurts. There are de facto road paths, but in fact you can drive anywhere you want. A joke went around the car that there are no police or traffic lights here.
Apparently the land is free to settle, and typically families will site and move their yurt and animals 2-4 times a year, especially toggling winter/summer.
These are multigenerational households, with children or teenagers, and the matriarch and patriarch. The families were all dressed in traditional wear, and they received us graciously. At one, we visited inside a yurt, which was cozy and comfortable, with some beds, textiles, simple orange or red cabinets, one of which had a portrait of a prized horse, and another with family photos. The centres hosted a small metal stove. The soft walls are essentially wood felt, with latticed wood struts. The center is a decorated skylight of sorts. The light is soft. The floor is essentially a sheet of vinyl flooring with the pattern of wood flooring. The woman of the house served us what seemed like a dry bread, with some yellow yoghurt on it. Ok, this is organic all natural no preservatives yoghurt. There are goats, cows, sheep out here, so I wasn’t clear on that milk source.
We distributed gifts to the children and a large home battery to the family.
At a second home site there were horses tied nearby. The family also turned out in beautiful and distinctive clothes, well worn, but handsome. The woman of the house brought around a bowl of a hard crumbly cheese made from cow’s milk. We exchanged gifts as a group and there lots of photos clicking. I got to mount one of the horses (mounted accidentally behind the traditional saddle not on it, oops!) and then the young man handed me a wooden rod with a whip and the reins, and led us around in a little circle. You’re supposed to ride standing up so I did for a minute. I’m sure I looked very awkward but it was fun to imagine being a Mongol horse rider on the steppes. Then the young man himself mounted and galloped away gracefully, in a full stand. It was beautiful and cool to see him at one with horse, they moved together as one, like intimate dance partners who enjoyed the movement. We left a house battery there as well and there were smiles and waves all around and we were off, back to camp. The whole sunset moment was a little surreal. When we were back at camp I thought, did that just happen? This place is like that.
Comments: Total (1) comments
Frances Sakowicz
Posted On: 28 Jun 2024 07:06 am
What a beautiful memory to have visited the two yurts, experienced the hospitality they showed you, the elaborate traditional clothing they wore, the brief horse back ride offered you. Interesting that they stand up while riding. Since they are nomadic, their flocks must be the source of some income for them. Their hearts are pure and their lives simple. And they are so dependent on the weather and climate.
It occurred to me that their would not be any clean clothes after the first day of your trip so it was amusing to read another runner's blog when he said he decided to change shirts, not into a clean shirt but into a different one, and then you echoed that when you said you decided to change socks - not into a clean pair but a different one! We do obsess about cleanliness in the American society. I realized that years ago while living in France, not even in a remote place on the other side of the world.
The story of your new watch was somewhat amusing though not to you, I'm sure. The front runner's statement that he didn't wear a watch for races but just ran until he got there was interesting. I suppose your medical training leads you to monitor your heart rate and other things. I remember how Lance could just put his hands on something like that and quickly figured it all out. He is still living a rustic life where he has to figure out many things for himself.
Your adventure will be drawing to a close when you read this, and I will miss reading everyone's blogs, especially yours, and growing to understand your thinking and feelings along the way. The Gobi Desert is so vast, a very special part of the world, and I shall miss it when you are finished and home again.
27 June 2024 08:50 pm (GMT+08:00) Irkutsk, Ulaan Bataar
There is a sweet spirit in our camp. Everyone is just happy to be here, in this place, with each other, on a day of pause. The camp is pitched on the banks of a beautiful river, with horses nearby, and birds of prey circling above. There was a hard rain in the afternoon, and I slept in the tent with the pleasant white noise of the driving rain for 2 hours. A needed rest. I awoke gently to Mongolian music wafting over the camp, from a mobile sound system.
In the setting, it felt so right. Several remarked later "I need to add Mongolian throat singing to my playlist".
People are being very gentle with each other. Spending time. Encouraging. Showing curiosity. It's so musical to hear the languages in the crowd. The exuberance of Spanish, the quiet dignity of Asian languages (I dont speak any so can't really distinguish them but there are several going on, some German, and all manner of accents of English which is the common lingua franca.
Nearly everything is either moist or wet. We haven't bathed or changed or washed clothes since Saturday, so there is contending with that. I brought some baby wet wipes as a luxury item this time, and I'm glad.
There are a lot of new blisters in camp, it seems inevitable. I collected a bunch and have been draining them today. One of the doctors kindly taped the side of both my heels, which are hard to get to.
It's raining again. And cool. It's hard to believe in the last week in this country we had a snowstorm, baking dry almost debilitating heat. And now cool drenching rain. I feel a subtle satisfaction about the idea that we actually are having to use nearly all of the required gear we made to bring and carry. When one is slogging the backpack in the high and dry heat, it feels incongruous that a lot of the weight on your shoulders is raincoat, rain poncho, puffy jacket, long shirt and tights, and warm hat and gloves. But then, today, in the cool and rain, we're all glad to have the alternate fashions that we need.
Tomorrow another marathon, with substantial landscape change. And a big climb. At moment it's hard to envision, so I'm not!
One thing I am persuing today is something that happened to me yesterday on the long march. Twice, in the middle, my poles touched a button(s) on my relatively new watch, with which I am less familiar. It has an infinite range of functions, and the buttons flipped me into a map view. While running (and, ok, in the hot and bright with poles and backpack and persistent challenge of all that) I couldnt figure out the button combinations to get out of the map view, back to the heart rate/pace/distance/time view on which I have been focused. The only thing I could do was to 'end the run' and start over. At which point I lost all info about how far I had gone. A thought soon came to me, which was "If I keep stepping forward, at some point this will end" and the better alternate "I just keep going, at some point I will get there." That seemed a much simpler approach, and it struck me that humans have moved forward bravely for hundreds of thousands of years with just that approach. At dinner, one of the fastest runners here later told me, 'yeah I never use a watch for races liket this' and explained his own view of the idea just stepping forward into what is there at moment, at whatever pace is possible. I am thinking how to bring that back to "in real life" (IRL). Some of us are measuring everything in our digital economy and life at home (I love all that stuff usually) but are we just living, walking forward to be present in, and enjoy, and celebrate the Now that is present ? I want to do better when I return.
"Real life". That is an odd phrase when examined closely. The place in which we find ourselves in the steppes, living in community, sleepinig on the ground, in the elements, with the simplicity of eat, sleep and then run in the vastness of a raw Nature. It feels as if we are in an unreal place. As if we have stepped through the looking glass of Lewis Carroll, or fallen in the well of Murakami, or walked through the wardrobe of C.S. Lewis to a a fable. But which is the fable, our "IRL", or this experience of simplicity. I am thinking a lot about that. And knowing that this Real is always available to us. It doesnt require a desert to manifest it. But, for me, the desert makes the matter more clear.
27 June 2024 12:20 pm (GMT+08:00) Irkutsk, Ulaan Bataar
It’s Thursday, so, the Long March is over, and we’re taking a breath. The last competitor just came over the line in cold rain at nearly 27 hours on course at 10:45 am. We all gathered to cheer.
The weather here has been varied. Yesterday it was very hot all day, too hot, and with complete exposure with high irradiation. But then last night it was drizzling by 1 am and a pouring rain started by about 3 am. Today it’s quite cold and drizzling, and we’re all in puffy jackets and standing by the fire. The excursion of conditions is a lot. For me, it would have been beneficial to have today’s weather yesterday (my sweet spot as a person with low surface area to mass ratio is running in a calm rain at 48°F). But, the weather, it’s just, “this is the way it is right now”. You have to accept it, whatever it is, obviously you have no control over it, and spending energy on trying to react to it is just wasteful.
Yesterday was long for me, and harder than I expected. Like most people, I had high and low moments. The race started with a sly joke, within one or two minutes of the start we were climbing a steep sand dune with loose sand, single file, in a conga line. Then a little wandering out of those dunes and we were back in the open steppes, and I realized the course director ran us sideways through a gratuitous loop though those dunes just for the fun of it, at the start. The first 15 miles or so I felt good, there was the open terrain, some rolling. We ascended a very steep mount past a yurt with animals and people living together to a stunning 360 view from the top, with a vertical metal implement impaled into stones, covered with blue prayer flags. It was the best view of of the course, and worth the heart rate spiking and glycogen burn it took to get there. I stopped for a minute to take photos, but there isn’t really any way to capture the 360 experience digitally. The long views here are very long, because it’s dry, so the blue-green mountain ridges maybe 40-50 miles away are still visible. The phrase “top of the world” came to mind.
Then a step descent in grass. I have realized later that these grasses are full of something like stinging nettles, and I’m not the only one whose legs look measle-ish. This rash is itchy!
After 15 miles, I was out of food unfortunately. I had my dehydrated meals in my pack of course, but the candy and nuts i had bought in Ulaanbaatar to replace the gels, bars and recovery drink powders was gone. I starting getting a gnawing hunger. Then the middle of the day was a very extended range of long uphills and downhills. The climbs weren’t all that steep but they were very long, and it was very hot and bright. Twice I drank all the water I was carrying and had none for an hour or so. The lack of calories and water got to me, and I slowed dramatically. It was the first time in the race I had to start resorting to repetitive mantras to just put one foot in front of the other. In the last mile before checkpoint 5 i was discouraged, but then a race staff truck trundled by and I caught them and got 1.5 liters of water and they poured some on my head, and I felt much better. Soon I was in Checkpoint 5. Which had stunning views of the whole valley, and a breeze at the tent, which was placed at the top of a ridge. I had a conversation with the doctor there, about being hungry. The next segment was downhill mostly and in fact we could see the next checkpoint position about 5 or so miles away, so I rehydrated and pushed on.
The checkpoint 6 was in a small dusty town. Very interesting to see the structures cobbled together from old Chinese shipping containers, brick, stone, concrete. It isn’t fancy. This checkpoint is the “dinner” one, with hot water, so I made my meal. It was particularly unappetizing and I was surprised I couldn’t eat it, though I was starving. We got a can of warm Coke from the race team (a traditional Long March treat) and even that I did not find appealing. I lay on the ground for 20-30 just sort of collecting myself. I forced my self to eat my rehydrated spicy Indian ‘chicken’ dish bite by bite. I swallowed all of the Coke. I realized I had some GI distress and visited the traditional Mongolian pit latrine there (wow, highest concentration of flies I have ever experienced!). Squatting in the middle of a 50mile pack run, it was difficult, but then I thought of it as my one moment of yoga.
My feet were also a problem, I could feel many new hotspots, and removed my gaiters, shoes, socks. My feet were filthy with dust and sand and the taping I had done at the beginning of the day was peeling and shredded. I took some time to clean my feet with wet wipes, trimmed and retaped, lance a few new blisters, and covered them, and changed my socks (ok, not clean socks of which i have none now, but different socks, which seemed to make sense). At some point, I had done all I could do to patch myself up and I suited up and launched. A short trek through the town and then into to open steppes again. It was getting a little dusky by then and I was hoping ti would start to cool off, which it did slowly.
Most of the rest of the stage was on dusty roads through the steppes. At one point I heard dogs pitching a fit in the dark distance and cattle moaning, and then a loud screeching or crying sound. The race director had mentioned this in a briefing (‘don’t get bit by a dog because if you do we evacuate you’ [though in my case as @one-of-the-most-immunized-
After an hour out of the checkpoint it was dark, and I was using a headlamp. The bugs became irritating, including biting flies the seemed to have great accuracy in finding the back of my neck. I put on my head covering that is a bug net, and that helped a lot. LOL, running at night with sweaty glasses, a bug net, and a headlamp on dusty road. Visibility wasn’t the best, but it was worth it not to get bit.
In the dark, the temperature finally started to drop. Suddenly I felt good for the first time in about 8 hours. I had eaten, rehydrated, taped my feet, and my core temperature was normal again, and I felt like a new person. I started tapping out a rhythm and was making good progress. I was the same pace as one of the other racers for a bit, and we spoke for maybe 20-30 minutes together back and forth, and that made the time pass more quickly. Then I felt even better as the temperature fell even more, and I moved my own pace ahead. I felt excited to start counting down the miles. It was a fun stretch of the last two hours and I once again enjoyed being out in nature, at night, fully embodied and aware and in solitude. A slight drizzle started, which was good for me. The end didn’t come when I expected, but I was feeling strong and confident, so weirdly didn’t care. When I came in under the banner and the drum beat for my arrival I was happy. I felt great actually. The doctor who had checked me at CP5 was there at the finish and he was suprised to find me in such a state (disbelieving, but in fact I was happy and felt good). I did the weight check in and questions for the riboflavin research study. Ate my second dinner of the night, washed my feet in a tub, and I was off to bed.
I have an initial impulse to say it was disappointing that I lost so much time managing things yesterday, and did not come in until after 1 am I think. But then, I think better to just say I did the best I could with what I had, and it turned out ok. I never did anything risky, I slowed to keep my heart rate down at all times, and i drank a huge amount of water/electrolytes over the day. The downstream effects of not getting my luggage (with my obsessively planned nutrition strategy materials) bit me on this long day. But also, I managed with what I had and I’m good.
It’s a ‘rest day’, so we’re all enjoying each other’s company, and the fire, and eating. I hope to take a nap. Occasionally people have referred to the marathon with climbing tomorrow, but most of us are trying to stay in the Now.
In sum, I’m in a beautiful camp by a river in the Mongolian steppes, enjoying the day by the fire with friends. And healthy and happy, hydrated and satisfied. So, all good.
Jim
Comments: Total (2) comments
Howard White
Posted On: 27 Jun 2024 02:35 pm
Good news. Just push on tomorrow.
H C
Posted On: 27 Jun 2024 06:39 am
Thank you for the write up, so well put together and allowed me to understand a small amount of what the racers went through.
27 June 2024 09:15 am (GMT+08:00) Irkutsk, Ulaan Bataar
I finished the long march. I’m healthy, and in good spirits. Thanks for all the messages. It’s 1:45 am here, so, check with me tomorrow. I’ll fill in the details after I clean my feet, eat, and sleep!
Jim
Comments: Total (1) comments
Howard White
Posted On: 27 Jun 2024 01:02 pm
Great news. Clean feet, bandage blisters, ear and sleep. Write tomorrow evening. Go, Jim, go.
25 June 2024 08:40 pm (GMT+08:00) Irkutsk, Ulaan Bataar
We’re in Camp 3. We’re “not even halfway” er, I mean, “We’re almost halfway!”
Sand, rocks, sky.
Today was interesting and moving. We began the day with the large moon still in the sky, and the sun arisen. The endless large sky here accommodates both. We set off at 8, and with minutes we were climbing a vertical wall under which we had camped all night. The view reminded me a little of the north rim of the Grand Canyon when you come to, and reach the base of it and can’t imagine that it is possible to ascend it because it looks too vertical. But ascend we did. There was still a lot of laughter and good will despite the exertion because the day was fresh still. I turned near the top and saw the grid of our yurts at the bottom, and the wide expanse of the steppes.
There were many olfactory delights today. As we ascended that first ridge everyone’s trail shoes were crushing plants on the rocks that looked like artemesia but the aroma rising was something like eucalyptus. I laughed to myself thinking this is like expensive aromatherapy, like in a spa.
As we crested the ridge we descended a slope with knee high brushy vegetation and the beautiful wildflowers, which are familiar now. To the bottom, over a small creek. Then we diverted directly into the stone ruins of an ancient site, the course ran directly through the ruins, it was clear at one point that was narrow that we were in the interior of an ancient living space. I thought of the generations who had spent their lives there, eating, sleeping, loving, birthing, celebrating and suffering, then sicknesses and dying. It was such a lovely and idyllic setting in that valley, I envied their simple lives.
A little undulation, then amazingly we came upon a monastery, with various religious stone elements, and we each entered the temple there, which is active and replete with beautiful textiles, and skylight filtering from above. Incense was burning, the second remarked olfactory experience of the day. Several of the adherents were on the grounds in traditional robes, smiling and blessing us along the way.
I have been learning over the last few years that every moment can be holy (Eckhard Tolle reminds us we are always in the ever-present unchanging Now), and every place can be holy (Wendell Berry taught us that there are not sacred and unsacred places, rather every place is sacred but some have been desecrated). Still, to be in the Gobi desert, in a verdant valley in the midst of vast dryness, at a monastery and temple, and to be fully embodied and my mind turned off a bit, I just felt acutely aware of the transcendent nature of things and felt the moment and place facilitated awareness of the way things really are through immanent beauty, peace, silence, Nature.
That monastery, though, was sited at the base of another steep climb. So, we were back in the reality of pushing upwards with effort. Once over the ridge, we were back in the desert/grasslands for a while.
Eventually we came to another highlight of the day, the sand dunes. The sand was quite soft, which is an inefficient running surface of course, and suddenly the air was still and hot and the sun felt less friendly. The irradiation was bright and strong, a bit crushing. I had heard of the difficulty of this stretch from others ahead of time, and I had decided before getting there I would under any circumstance expend any emotional energy in complaining or suffering or resisting it. I thought of one of my favorite mantras, “this is what I came for”. It makes no sense (!) to travel around the world to run in the Mongolian desert, and then to whine internally “its hot”, “it’s bright”, “it’s hard to run on this”. Really, the difficulty is sort of the whole point. Not long after getting into it, my mind pulled into a different space that I didn’t expect. The Stoics gave us a lot to consider about difficulty, and a lot of that came to me. For one, I sort of felt resistance at getting over that hot sand, but then remembered Marcus Aurelius proclaiming “The obstacle is the way.” And I immediately accommodated to it, in fact, I thought, I want to go straight through this. Which brought to mind another Stoic teaching, “Amor fati”, meaning essentially, “not only to endure what is before one, but to love it.” And I did, and it was good.
Too soon it was over! But the less sensational slog of sandy tracts kinda persisted on off all day, especially at the end. The long trek to the end was hot, and just work. The high mindedness of everything above gave way over time to the reality of slogging it in full exposure in the middle of the day in the desert. I stopped once for 10-15 minutes to get the sand out of my shoes, as I felt a dangerous level of abrasion going on. An hour or two later, I felt a bad blister forming acutely on one toe. Both times I sat on butt on the sand in full baking sun dealing with gaiters, shoes, two layers of socks, and a mess in there. I got through the day with a bunch of hotspots and three new blisters. It would have been worse if I hadn’t stopped, though I lost half an hour on the day and baked a bit. The last few miles were relatively unremarkable. Dusty. Biting horseflies. Heat. Softer and softer sand. I was glad to hear the drum beating and to see the banner. It’s nice when the staff members all cheer as one finishes.
I felt that I did what I could today, to stay within my limits and do another day of active recovery. It crossed my mind as I finished today, this is what I will feel like tomorrow at the half-way point. We’ll all have to rise to the occasion. At the moment it’s difficult to imagine, but each day is it’s own. And for today, we’re done and enjoying our camp in the desert and each other’s company.
This is such a remarkable and generous little international tribe of people. The dinner conversation is amazing. The races and events people have done is not to be believed. You hear little snippets of “that race in the jungle when we had to cross rivers with piranhas by swimming” or “the four ways to run a marathon or ultra in Antarctica” or “you know you can run back to back marathons in the Arctic within a week if you sign up with both companies” or “yeah I was training for the 400 mile Alaska Yukon race by doing long runs pulling a large truck tire behind me attached to a body harness” [this is not the dogsled race, this is when the racers are the dogs for themselves and pull a sled with all their gear over the ice for 400 miles or more]. There aren’t any limits in this crowd. It’s fun to be in the midst of it and to think it’s normal to have such conversations.
Thanks for everyone who is sending messages. I see them and I’m grateful.
So, in sum, another amazing day and I’m still healthy and happy.
Comments: Total (3) comments
Howard White
Posted On: 26 Jun 2024 12:04 pm
Just learned how to read your complete end of day commentary. Loved it! I have written 22 published books. Suggest your commentary’s be combined into a book. You are a gifted author!! Howard Ray White, Southern historian.
Sam Fanshawe
Posted On: 26 Jun 2024 09:00 am
Way to go Jim! You have the absolutely best attitude and are doing great. Your blogs are amazing - so detailed and more about the whole feeling rather than just race. So happy seeing you out there crushing it (even without your bag or tent).
Piyush M
Posted On: 26 Jun 2024 03:29 am
Best thing I read today:
I had decided before getting there I would under any circumstance expend any emotional energy in complaining or suffering or resisting it. I thought of one of my favorite mantras, “this is what I came for”. It makes no sense (!) to travel around the world to run in the Mongolian desert, and then to whine internally “its hot”, “it’s bright”, “it’s hard to run on this”. Really, the difficulty is sort of the whole point. “The obstacle is the way.”
More power to you sir!
- not an ultrarunner
24 June 2024 06:30 pm (GMT+08:00) Irkutsk, Ulaan Bataar
Today was stage 2. I felt a bit stiff and tired this morning, we woke at 5, and had 3 hours to prepare for the day. I worked through everything methodically to make breakfast, eat, tape feet, repack, sunscreen. You wouldn’t think that takes 3 hours, but I was finally fully ready a minute before the start. Perfect!
We set off and I was doing my usual pace but something about the idea of “longer than a marathon with some significant climbs” got in my head and I started thing about that 50 mile day later in the week. So I backed off and just decided, today is going to be an active recovery day for me. I’m going to stick to relentless forward progress, but not push it, because there is a long week a ahead. That was a good choice for me today. The morning was overcast, then it rained briefly, then most of the we were in full sun and it got very hot. For someone like me with Viking genetics (fair, blue eyed, blonde) high UV irradiation can be a barrier to success. I was reapplying 100 spf all over my body and covered in my desert hat, which was good for exposure, but I pretty hot. It isn’t my first rodeo in the desert (ok its just my second, but that counts for ‘not first’) so I had a trusted plan for that and spent the whole day executing. I drank the full 2.5L fluids between each checkpoint even when they were only 6 miles, and always with full electrolytes. I drank a lot today! I ate an entire bag of candy, nuts and dried fruit, it seemed like a lot but I was still very hungry when I finished.
The terrain was consistent today. Long views of green sandy grasslands, with blue green mountains in the distance. We over some steep inclined, up down up down. Periodically we come upon a little camp of two yurts and some motorcycles , with a horse or two nearby, and typically there is a herd of cattle or goats or some sheep nearby. But they’re not fenced. Which is a little scary sometimes when passing a herd of cattle. Because 2 or 3 well-horned steers stand at the front and frown, and occasionally start stamping a leg as if getting ready to charge. I always slowed down and tried to act meek! The most memorable yurt moment was passing a little compound and a beautiful young girl of 3 or 4 stood by the trail waving silently, in a pink Gap sweatshirt.
We passed by several religious sites seemingly in the middle of nowhere, and spun the metal drums in passing as a prayer. We passed a remarkable site with a large sacred rock formation covered in blue fabric mementoes shaped like large scarves tied to the rocks, exposed to the elements and fading.
It was a longer day than I expected. I just keep an eye on my heart rate, trying to keep it low, 120 ish, and drinking, and electrolytes and sunscreen and eating. I used poles all day. I am kind of ambivalent about running with poles, I usually don’t like it, but today, I tried it all day as an experiment. I think mainly the advantage for me is the sound of the metal tips taps out a rhythm, and staying in a very steady very regular rhythm is easy with the sound. Maybe it helps a little with endurance. I’m not sure.
Mostly I run by myself because it feels like I have to concentrate on things constantly. Though sometimes you find yourself at a similar pace with another racer and conversations bubble up naturally. I had a particularly high Venn diagram overlap with one of the women racers who is an airport security consultant in Gulf of Oman. We had a lot of common professional experience and concerns over bio security issues.
I cleaned my feet, drank a little more, ate some chocolate wafers (right, all my fancy sports nutrition from my carefully crafted plan were in my luggage that didn’t show up).
The title of this blog refers to the fact that instead of sleeping in tents tonight, this one night we’re sleeping in a traditional yurt. Very cool!
So, in sum, a good day, and I stayed within myself, and I’m happy and healthy at the finish. So, all good. I think I also will do activity recovery style again tomorrow and enjoy the day the best I can. It’s amazing to be in this place and in this community.
Jim
23 June 2024 10:00 pm (GMT+08:00) Irkutsk, Ulaan Bataar
Hi friends,
I have finished stage 1 and all is good.
Stage 0 (getting here) was an adventure. I tore my left medial (knee) meniscus in Dec and had surgery in January, which went well. Lisa and I went hiking the O trail in Chile (Patagonia) 10 days after surgery as my PT, which was amazing. I ran Boston marathon in April. So my recovery was ok. But I never really got back to baseline and want able to train for this as I wanted. I did a lot of runs with 25 lb backpack, one as long as 25 miles on trails, but overall I was a bit light on training.
The trip here was eventful! 2 sleepless days in planes and airports (Nashville to Newark to Istanbul to Ulaanbaatar). 13 time zones different! And then my luggage didn’t come, which was very unfortunate (and had not arrived three days later when we pushed off to the desert). I spent two days walking around Ulaanbaatar trying to cobble together the things I needed. Which was especially exciting because there was a snowstorm all day Thursday! And the city flooded, 6 inches deep in some places. That was fun. I got to shake down my rain and cold gear. Wet feet!! Yikes. Ultimately I found enough to get through the required gear check of ~ 40 items from various stores, and other racers generously lent me some things that just don’t exist here (there is a group What’sApp chat going). I’m grateful to Natasha and Roland especially who gave me the blister kit and miniature knife. Instead of gels I’m using a big bag of candy. Kinda the same thing.
On Saturday we checked in, had a briefing, and then a kinda uncomfortable long small bus ride to the start.
Wow. This place is stunning, when we got there.
So, if someone had asked me previously, what is a complete fantasy run, the most rave run ever. One could say something like:
“In the most fantasy run ever, I would transport to an exotic locale, on the other side of the world. Dine at dusk with the beautiful sounds of a naive ensemble in traditional costume, with ancient tunes, and throat singing. Sleep in a tent in the wilderness. Wake at 2 am and stand outside the tent with a full moon shining silvery light on a quiet camp, pitched at the base of 1,000 year old ruins of the palace of one of Genghis Khan’s generals. Depart on the run with people from dozens of nations, excited to take on the landscape and week together. We run through rolling grasslands in the Mongolian steppe, with endless grass and sand. 10 miles in, we’d come up upon a yurt (ger) traditional tent home, with beautiful children in traditional dress waving kindly as we pass. A few minutes later, 50 horses would charge by on the ridge above, running wild and free. Birds of prey circling above. We’d ascend the mountain to the top, through scrubby vegetation decorated with beautiful wildflowers in a panoply of wild colours, a persimmon orange, and purples, yellows, white. Looking down to avoid tripping, we’d spy fantastical insects, large grasshoppers (the kind that can cause a plague) and armoured insects that looked like scorpions? We’d run along the ridge ourselves, now looking down a valley that didn’t seem to end. The steppes would be littered with the skeletons and skins of animals, reminding one of the exposure, and giving motivation to keep moving. At the end, a miry slough of despond through marshy clay and mud that is nearly unwalkable, to keep it interesting. And then into camp 1, at the base of hills with long views.”
Ok, that wasn’t a fantasy. That happened friends.
I’m hydrated, took a rest in my tent, and I’m all good. Healthy and happy and hanging out with my tribe, with whom I don’t have to explain “why do you do that?” It’s a unique community, warm, generous, curious.
:)
Jim
Comments: Total (2) comments
Karen T
Posted On: 28 Jun 2024 02:08 am
Impressive Journey!
If anyone can do this is you- can’t wait to hear the end of the race.
Sonia Pahwa
Posted On: 23 Jun 2024 04:31 pm
Brilliant Jim - from before start to finish! Kudos to you on your determination, fortitude, and creativity in cobbling together your race kit. That didn't sound easy, so well done for hanging in and flexing the mental game. Much appreciation to the community for supporting you and having your back with needed items. Sounds like the hardest part is done?? Good effort today! Way to show up in whatever your conditioning and get it done = a true commentary on what we're capable of. Thank you for sharing! Wishing you a good day 2. Much support and love from Canada! - xoxsonia
So you wanted a challenge! And the universe knows it's too easy for you 'cause you're that kind of guy Jim. So, here's a little more to have fun with. Good times! - Conor
Comments: Total (2) comments
Daniel Caballeria
Posted On: 30 Jun 2024 12:37 am
Trina Baum
Posted On: 29 Jun 2024 02:26 am