Hi. Very briefly here’s how Mohican went:
I had six months of perfectly flawless training. I went into this race 30 pounds lighter than EVER before. I had more long runs in than ever before. I had solved the blister problems of years past (Nick, we have to talk man…contact me), solved the hypothermia of years before and had my mind fine tuned into a zen-tarahumara-franciscan-buddhist-hippie-yippee-trippee Peace machine.
And for 70 miles I floated along having the time of my life. They said it was hot but I didn’t notice. They told me I was ugly but I felt handsome. I rolled along dispensing ibuprofen, vaseline, ginger candy and goodwill to those less prepared than I.
Then at 70 miles I became violently ill and suffered wave after wave of relentless nausea that defied all intervention. It took me 4.5 hours to make it from the Mill to the sweet tender mercy of the time cutoff at the bridge and the relief that only 4:30 am at 80 miles can bring.
This morning I ran three miles on legs that were just fine and didn’t puke once. Hooray!
My friends all kicked butt. Much much much more (several thousand words at least) is on the way…probably in installments. Stay tuned or avoid this site, depending on the amount of self centered drivel and false modesty you think you can absorb.
All my love, --Mark
P.S. Michelle Bichsel wins the toughest human award, Luc wins the greatest-gentleman -ever -to -do -this -sport award, and Nick and Rob win the nicest guy awards. Terri Lemke wins the MAN-OH-MAN this is the coolest news ever award. Why? Tune in later.