The Long March is done, but before I get to that, I wanted to thank everyone again for all the comments and emails. I’m truly overwhelmed.  Such a nice feeling.  Looking forward to catching up with everyone individually when I get back to the States.

So about that time they made us run ~56 miles through the mountains…

The first section was brutal.  Imagine running 22 miles down into and through a canyon—on fist sized rocks.   It felt like someone was beating my ankles with baseball bats for 5 hours.  Then we had to climb the Turkish Road out of the canyon.  This road (which is really more like a rocky path cut into the mountain) climbed for hours, switching back and forth, in the hottest sun of the day.  I’m not sure why the Turks built this road.  But I hate them for it.  I wish they decided to build a water park instead.

After this, the sun started go down, but we still had to follow the Turkish Road farther through the mountain range.  At this point, a guy was kinda nipping at my heels.  But I realized he was cutting down the embankments of the road to cut off some of the switch backs.  This was a grown ass man scooting on his butt like a cheating fool.  Not cool.  So I told him to kiss my salty running tights and did the one thing I—for whatever reason—can do fairly well: run swiftly down a rocky, mountainous trail (must be all those Adirondack mountain climbing trips, mom and dad).

And for the next 25 miles I ran as hard as I could (think of a t-rex shuffling its feet and pumping its tiny arms as fast as possible—credit for that joke to Stevie. Take note, Ian).  Granted, it was pitch black and I had to make my way through the mountains by only a headlight and faint glow sticks every 50 yards.   I’m telling you it’s pretty spooky to be running alone in a deserted desert mountain range like that.  In fact, I can’t really explain it, so I’m not going to try.  All I can say is that people who have done several of these races say that this Long March is the hardest and most technical they’ve ever done.  But I did use those solitary hours to name all the rocks I passed.   It took me until W to realize that I was just like Tom Hanks in Castaway.  Since I didn’t want to know what a Jordanian straight jacket is like, I decided do something more productive, like work on my impressions of different accents. 

Ironically, this stage turned out to be my best.  I arrived at the first check point (out of 8) in 70^th and finished the Stage in 38^th.  I couldn’t have done it without your support.  Ian and I have just spent the afternoon discussing how awesome it is to see everyone come together for such a great cause (More Team Tassy than us deforming our feet).  And it’s awesome to see everyone’s personalities shine through their comments.  Thanks for the fundraising updates, your generous donations, and for spreading the word while Ian and I play Lawrence of Arabia. 

There have been a lot of moments here that seem stupid or insane, but do show the inspirational aspect of people’s determination.  Watching people trudge down the mountain this morning toward camp, 28-30 hours after they started the stage, and then see them start to run the final 100 yards to the finish line as we cheer, is a sight to see.

So before I get to anything else, it’s come to my attention than Ian and has been letting me write my blog first, asking me what I wrote, and then proceeds to make snide remarks about me.  So let’s set the record straight.

The only thing louder than the cacophonous snoring in the tent at night is Ian’s whimpering for his Dove body wash and bath salts.

Ian “Heal the World, Make It a Better Place” Rosenberger has also managed to insult every nationality here so far.  If WWIII starts soon, the epicentre will likely be at our base camp.

Finally, I made a joke about birthing a camel breech and later Ian, right in front of me, stole my joke and said it to the Doctors.  Ok, now I’m done.  Actually, Ian and I hang out with the doctors a decent amount. They are all pretty interesting, well travelled, and aren’t tired zombies like everyone else.  Ian has probably mentioned his toe nail woes.  I have a ton of abrasions and scratches on my back from my pack.  One doctor likened it to two stars exploding around my waist.  Don’t worry, we got a picture.  They put a ton of bandages on it yesterday which helped. It feels like an exoskeleton.

Today’s stage had a lot of long mile+ climbs.  During one climb, I stumbled through a conversation with an older Italian guy who didn’t know any English—using what Italian and Spanish I know.  I eventually ran off.  After the next checkpoint I realized that I had dropped my camera.  I ran back and forth to the checkpoint twice trying to find it (which wasn’t awesome with the mountain climbs and the heat).  But lo and be hold, I ran into the Italian guy and he had it.  I hugged him and said every nice Italian word I know.  Bravo. Bellisimo, Grazie, Pizza, Vino Rosso.

The weather has truly been desert like for the past couple days.  Today they also had us crawl through a 100 foot tunnel on our hands and knees.  That wasn’t fun with sun burned knees and a back pack. 

The course is tough but I actually feel like my body has adjusted.  I have a pretty regimented electrolyte and salt intake (again, thanks to my deititian) which, I think, has kept my head clear.

As you know, the Long March is tomorrow.  It has the most difficult stretch of the entire race right in the middle of the ~56 miles.  Ian and I still aren’t sure if we’ll go together yet.  We tend to see each other a decent amount regardless, so we might just play it by ear.

Thanks again for all the emails and comments.  I appreciate them a lot.  Back home seems like a far off land right now, so it’s nice to get word from it. 

Day three done.  So we’re about half way through.  Ian and I haven’t been running side by side anymore because we’ve adopted different strategies—which is typical.  Today was a better day for me than yesterday.  I got held in a narrow canyon for a little but was able to cruise after that. There was a lot more descent today, which can kill your quads, but mine held up.  We also ran across a salt flat that was a very wide river bed long ago.  It was nice to run on something that didn’t absorb all your steps.  We also ran by a camel race track.  I spent about 20 minutes thinking about how funny it would be to watch camels race.  Think of all the head bobbing.

Stevie, there are a bunch of dogs.  Some domesticated, some not.  Ian and I agreed that the goat herding dog we saw today was the cutest guy ever. I’m sure his owner would sell him for the right price.  We see lots of goats, lizards, and dirty animals that resemble humans in athletic gear, but it’s hard to tell.  I haven’t seen a scorpion yet, which is ruining my childhood fantasy of catching one by its tail. 

There is a Brazilian competitor who is blind.  Let that sink in. THERE IS A BLIND GUY RUNNING FOR A WEEK IN THE DESERT.  And this isn’t his first one.  He has a guide, but I can’t imagine navigating this terrain without any sight.  Let alone finding everything in his back pack.  Truly incredible. ‘

There also some guy running in a cow costume.  Huge mascot sized head and all.  I’m pretty surprised he hasn’t died.  Admittedly, he does look like he’s melting when he comes in.

The sun is getting pretty intense now.  I actually got sunburned through my knee high socks and arm warmers.  Not a good sign.  So I guess I have to sun screen even my covered parts.  I’m actually so covered I look like the Invisible Man.              

A bunch of girls in robes surrounded the road at one part to cheer us on and chanted USA when I ran by.  I thought it was really neat that a bunch of Bedouin girls were interested in the race.  Then Ian told me that they were British girls on a school trip, “didn’t you notice they were all white?” I took that as a sign that I needed some more electrolytes.

Tomorrow is the last marathon stage before the “Long March”, which is a 58 mile day.  So we’ll probably take tomorrow easy.  Better to leave some in the tank for that last day. I really don’t want to be running into the night to complete that stage.  Unfortunately, it has the hardest climb of the week during the stage.  I’m sure the course architect stays away from camp for a reason.

Thanks for all the emails and comments. It’s really nice to read them.  I’m glad they’re putting stuff on the website.  I’m excited to see the pictures.  I’ve been taking a lot too. 

It’s certainly been an eventful couple days.  As you all already know, the travel situation would very interesting for Ian and me.  But that story seems to pale in comparison to what happened after that. However, I did want to mention that the taxi driver who drove me to Petra at 4:30 am had been living in a cave as of 9 years ago.  Don’t hear that every day.

So, we spent the morning in Petra getting our gear checked and then they bused us out to Wadi Rum desert. Where we then took turns jumping into the back of pick up trucks driven by Bedouins deeper into the desert. 

The tents are these 50 feet long structures made out of logs and goat hair blankets.  They are not water proof. And it happened to rain for the first two days.  This desert better turn into a rain forest after all that rain.  Fortunately RTP required that we bring water proof sacks, etc. to protect our gear. But we spent a lot of time patching holes in the roof to protect our sleeping bags.  Ian utilized his Survivor skills to use his poncho and zip ties.  He is now my best friend forever.

The people here are amazing and extremely interesting.  My immediate tent area houses some Aussies, people from China and the Philippines.  Unfortunately, one of the Aussies torn her Achilles today.  She’s not sure if she can stay.  We hope she can because she’s such an up-beat presence.  You definitely meet some interesting people here. One guy from India has run two marathons around the north pole.  Next year?

Ian and I are obviously the favourite people at camp. And by that, I mean we make a lot of jokes and sometimes people know enough English to know what we’re talking about.  Just keeping the loud, obnoxious American stereotype alive.

The courses has been gorgeous.  The landscape is very similar to that of the SW US.  The terrain is soft sandy, fist size rocks, or gravel like kitty litter.  I guess kitty litter might be appropriate because we use the whole area as a toilet.  The first day was about 25 miles with about 1800 feet of ascent.  Today was a touch shorter but 2700 feet of ascent.  We also had to climb through a crevice that was so narrow that I had to put my back pack on my head and climb side ways.  Ian is doing great and came in quicker than me today.  Those flamingo legs come in handy.

My nutrition has been great, thanks to my very capable (and good looking) dietician.  Ian also brought charcuterie.  Because of course.

Sorry for the typos.  Kinda rushed because we only have 15 minutes. 

Thanks for all the emails and comments.  I haven’t gotten a chance to read them yet but thanks still! Hopefully I’ll get them tonight.