Today I did the cable cars. I got a pass at the hostel, and then went out and made an attempt to actually see Mont Blanc. And Italy. I was supposed to see both on the run, and I was a little disappointed that I hadn’t.
I wish I had planned the trip better. I brought a lot of stuff, but it never occurred to me that even though the valley is nice and pleasant, the snow covered mountain top might have differing weather. Well, I showed my Canada by going up in shorts and t-shirt.
The first cable car was to Plan de L’Aiguille. It was scary when it went by a support tower; it caused the entire carriage to start swaying. There we took another cable car way up to Aiguille du Midi. There you could really feel the cold. Fortunately, large parts were indoors. Although the elevation really hit me when I was just climbing some stairs; I got a little light headed. They had a nice museum displaying climbing tools and techniques. And there was a hole in the ice that led outside where climbers were coming in. From the observation place you could see lots of people climbing up the mountain planning to take the cable car at 3842m back down. I’m hardly one to judge.
I also found out that Italy was closed. The cable car across the massif to Pointe Helbronner was closed in September, so there would be no gelato for me. And the clouds prevented me from seeing Mont Blanc itself.
Going back down, I lingered longer at the Plan de L’Aiguille. There was a pleasant cafe where I enjoyed a sandwich and hot chocolate. I met some Americans from Seattle and we talked a bit. They decided to go for a hike. I was very tempted to hike down to Chamonix; the sign said it would only take two hours. But my ankle still hurts, and going downhill is murder on my quads.
After getting back to Chamonix, I walked across the village and took the cable car up the opposite mountain to Planpraz. There wasn’t much to see here, but it was a relaxing place to hang out for awhile and enjoy watching clouds flow below you. Or through you.
Then back to Chamonix, some ice cream, and back to the hostel.
For dinner they were serving Swiss cheese fondue. I’m glad I tried it, but never again. It starts out tasting good, but then the rich cheese hits you and you spend the next few hours in a hate spiral with your stomach.
After considering my options I have decided not to go to Marseille tomorrow. I checked the train schedules, and it is actually past my destination for the bike trip. Since I am renting a bike, I don’t need to borrow my friend’s in Marseille. So I’ll do less time traveling, and two more days in Chamonix. I could try and spend another day elsewhere, such as Lyon or Avignon, but I like not having to find another hostel. I even found a tour bus that is going to go under the tunnel to Italy. I might still meet my goals.
In other news, my USB charger has died. So I have no way to charge my iDevices, without begging from strangers. I better try and find a replacement quick.
2012-9-3 23:27

I recovered from the lack of sleep from the run fairly quickly. I suppose it helps to have a breakfast deadline; get up if you want to eat.
I went back into Chamonix for the award ceremony. It was disappointing. I know I wasn’t expecting a winner’s trophy, but I was let down not having the finisher’s vest. So no winner’s cowbell for me. But the announcer was speaking mostly in French. Every so often, someone would come and summarize in English, but it’s hard to feel excited about that.
Which explains why I left the actual ceremony and found a big television monitor displaying it. I could still hear the announcer with a millisecond delay, and I got to sit in a nice warm spot free from the crowds.
Afterwards there was a lunch for everyone. It was mostly local cuisine, so that was different.
Then I spent the rest of the day wandering Chamonix. It was bigger than I expected, but the leg movement was probably good for me. I had dinner at a restaurant there, roasted chicken in tarragon sauce. It was really good. However, the water I had to drink with it, cost about 30% of the final bill. I really need to stop trusting waitstaff here. At least I was smart enough not to touch the bread they put on the table.
When I got back to the hostel, I spent a lot of time trying to update my journal about the run. I didn’t finish it until today, and I still wish I could have done better. I was more interested in getting all the facts down than making a good story. I think I need an editor to tighten it up.

I do have some overall thoughts about the run.
The mountains were everywhere: There was only about 10km of running at the start, and 5km running at the end. Everything else was at an angle. Sure you could run some of the downhills, but a lot of them were too steep it too treacherous and so you had to take them slow. And every mountain seemed to be worse than the last one.
European wilderness is different: Because people have lived here so long, there are small parts of civilization everywhere. Almost every waterway had a bridge. There were no lessons on how to deal with bears. In fact, I recall on my hike to Mount Sala seeing a poster on how to deal with cows. That may have been helpful here. Especially in the middle of the night when you realize there is a cow next to you and no fence.
Maliciousness: I never got the sense that the true course was cruel and unusual. I only ran part of it, but I got the sense that it wasn’t trying to be mean. It was taking the easiest route around the mountain. Easy being very relative under the circumstances. However, after I left the true course, I got the impression that they were trying to make up for missing the rest and all bets were off.
2012-9-3 22:10

There is something very relaxing about running a race that no one you know is, or ever will be, doing. The change to the race meant this was a one-shot. I had no one to compete with. At no time will anyone else I know run this race and then say they were faster. I could just try and finish without pressure.
I gave myself a goal of doing four kilometers an hour. Every time I passed a point, I would figure out how many hours to the next point and try and make it in that time. Even if I was ahead of the overall schedule, I could use that to orient myself.
The starting line was a mess. It was probably well organized, but trying to get 2300 people through a chute is inevitably going to be problematic. Problems on all sides too; a guy next to me in the huge crowd just squatted down to relive himself. My issues were the bottle of Boost I had brought with me had had the safety seal broken and had turned to cheese. “Fromage” as the locals say. I suppose it is better I found that out before I carried it all the way through the Alps. Also my GPS unit hadn’t been fully charged, so it only lasted an hour into the race.
It wasn’t raining at the start, but that wasn’t going to last. We walked through the starting gate, eventually we ran for half a minute and then got caught in another traffic jam. Eventually it opened up and we started to head out of town, with many runners quickly going to the side of the road for pit stops.
We ran along the banks of a mountain river. Unfortunately, 6 km in, I twisted my ankle. I decided to ignore it. I’m not going to give up that early. And for the most part it was okay.
An hour into it, it started to become dark and the rain picked up. Before the race, my mother wished my luck with the full moon. So I was thrilled when I saw it rise. It was literally behind the runners further up the mountain. I took some pictures of their silhouettes. It was very beautiful.
Well, according to Star Wars, “That’s no moon.” The support station had a big globe light propped up above them. I never actually saw the moon at any time.
The first pass of Le Delevret wasn’t that bad. It was a gradual ascent, although I slipped and fell in the mud on the trail on the way down. At one point the trail became so narrow it became a conga line. There was no passing. And then into the lovely village of Saint Gervais. Civilization! Now this was a support station. Bananas, hot soup, local cheese, Coke. (I drank more Coke on this run than I normally do in a week.)
After 21km we now have the biggest mountain of the run to face. The first ten kilometers were a bit confusing because I kept expecting us to drop away from the road nearby. But it kept with us all the way into the village of Les Contamines. Then we started to climb along trails.
It rained all night. Well, it also snowed, but it was nothing terrible. I’ve handled much worse. The organizers were saying that people should be bringing four layers of clothing with them, instead of the normal two. I ran in shorts the entire way. The rain jacket was good to have, but I never used the hood they insisted it should have. The Goretex socks I had on were a lifesaver. I highly recommend them.
And yes, there were clouds that I had to go through. It was hard to see anything, beyond the fact that it was night. But for the most part, I don’t think I ever actually saw any of the mountains I was running along.
After passing the summit, and down, what felt like a rockslide someone had traced a path on, there was an alpine hospital in the middle of nowhere. I distinctly remember it, because a kilometer after it, I twisted my ankle again. I think it had something to do with the night running I became a lot more cautious in my running after that, and it slowed me down a bit.
It also made me hesitant to change my footwear. With the change of course, we no longer had access to the support bag at the halfway mark. I wouldn’t be able to change my shoes. So it became more important to have a change of socks, and I did have extras. But if I took off my shoe, would my ankle swell and prevent me from getting the shoe back on? It wasn’t so much a problem with the cold, so I wasn’t sweating into my socks. Little did I realize how hard it is to remove Goretex socks, because they don’t stretch. I only found out when trying to take my clothes off before a shower.
I got lost heading back into Les Contamines. I don’t know where I went wrong, but I did eventually find the transition and saw bunches of runners coming from a different direction. I guess I took the long way. There was also a blessed public washroom. FYI public washrooms in France are scary. No seat, just a hole. Hope you have good balance.
The next mountain was small, and not too bad. And I was able to run down the other side safely into the village of La Villette. The next mountain was malicious. It started with some paved paths, but after awhile it became a conga line along the narrow switchback to the top. I had to take frequent breaks. Frustratingly, at the top was a tram station. The trip down was just that, a trip. It was steep and all mud. Mud stirred up by 1700 other runners. But I made it to Les Houches on my schedule, barely.
The next climb should have been pleasant. It was on a road, going up gradually to a park. But I started to encounter my biggest problem: digestion. I’m not used to the bacteria in the water here, so the digestion system was not happy with me. It didn’t help that I had the complimentary pasta dinner an hour and a half before race time. I had assumed that I didn’t have Imodium with me, because I didn’t remember packing it. For the rest of the race, my lower intestines were in open rebellion.
I got down that mountain slower than I would have liked, and knew there was only one left. After hitting a support station, there was an uphill, that, for some reason, I assumed was that mountain. So I was feeling fairly cocky, and surprised at how ahead of schedule I was. No I wasn’t. The worst was yet to come. Steep, side of the mountain, conga line of exhaustion. And there was no point to it either, because we never went over the top, we just went down the same side, at the same level of steepness.
Eventually we got down, but my quads were so exhausted, that it was literally painful to slow down to the same pace as the person ahead of me. It was great when it opened up into the village and the last support station.
I had four and a half hours to do the last 10km. My legs hurt, and I decided that I deserved a break. I sat down for a solid twenty minutes and had people bring me food. I even found my secret stash of pills. Imodium, along with some much needed Tylenol that actually shut my quads up and let me run again.
Now, I had been told the last ten kilometers were all downhill. I did have a goal in my mind of finishing in 24 hours. But this was beginning to feel like the Sinister 7; a short run, downhill, after a long run, in two hours.
It was not all downhill. There was a rather noticeable uphill along the side of a mountain. So the first part was slow, but then the Tylenol started to kick in and I could run again. I even found a nice woman from Chile to help me keep at it. I think she thought there was a 24 hour time limit, so she was very motivated to finish in that time. And at some point, my compression shorts developed a rip that decided it would be fine to scrape across my sensitive skin. Then the end was in sight and we were running through the village of Chamonix, in areas I recognized. And then there was the finish line.
23:43:48
It felt great to cross it. I was done. I was so happy. I was also really emotional. Unfortunately, they had run out of the finishing prize in my size, so I have no evidence to show that I did this.
And I was all alone. No one I knew was there. Nobody was even speaking English. There was nothing. I guess this is what they mean when they say “The loneliness of the long distance runner.”
I’m really going to have to force someone to come with me next time.
2012-9-3 20:00

“No battle plan survives contact with the enemy” – Helmuth von Moltke

The enemy in this case is the weather. It has been raining quite some time, and it is getting colder. I might actually have to stop wearing shorts. And the organizers think it is bad enough that they are radically changing the race. It is now only going to be 100km, all of it in France.
They didn’t mention this at all when I picked up my race package, and I only got a text message that said “Start around 7pm. Weather conditions too difficult on the mountain pass. New course 100km France only.”
This doesn’t feel nearly as epic.

Since I’m still running at night, I’m going to go back to bed. Last night wasn’t very restful. I now have two Italians in the room as well. One of them thought it would be okay to talk on the phone at ten o’clock while I was trying to sleep.

The rain continues. And with the Internet down, I don’t know what it will be like tomorrow. Hopefully better. I don’t mind cold weather, but I dislike running in rain at night.
I am not experienced at being at a hostel, so I don’t know all the secrets. One I should have known, from Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, is to bring a towel. For some reason I thought there would be one available. I can rent one, but I think I’ll check the village for a souvenir quality one tomorrow.
The room seems nice enough, but it is steadily filling up with Germans. There are three right now, so hopefully we’ve met quota. I stayed in and had dinner here, Croziflette. I don’t know what it is, but it is a local dish, and I should try new things. Although that is usually the exact opposite of what you want to do during an ultra.
2012-8-30 20:44

I arrived in the rain and got to the hostel. They wouldn’t let me in until after five, so I had time to kill. I spent a bit of time using their Internet. I had to pay for it, but I think a week of Internet is worth it for the convenience. They also gave me a free bus pass for the entire week, so I used it to get into Chamonix.
I tried to get my race package, but was informed that I need to have my backpack and other supplies with me. Those were still at my hostel, which had locked them up, so I’ll have to do it tomorrow. In the meantime I checked out the expo.
There were a lot of vendors. A surprisingly large number were advertising other ultras around the world. I guess if you are looking for a demographic of stupid people, you’re in the right place. I got a lot of souvenirs for myself, because I was told to come back to Canada looking “like Mont Blanc threw up on [me].” Mission accomplished.
I don’t think I’m too concerned about the conditions here. I found it quite refreshing with the rain, and I wasn’t as cold as the locals. They even commented as such. But I now have a lot more supplies in case they want me to overheat. (They sound like my mother, who thinks I’m never wearing enough even if I feel fine. I wonder if that’s a European thing?)
Now I’m back at my hostel. I’ve been waiting 45 minutes for the line to check in to die down. Looks like I’m up.

It’s raining. A lot.
I said goodbye to my cousin and got a bus to the airport. There I had hoped to be able to get a bus to Chamonix. I wasn’t sure I would be able to. Because I wasn’t flying in, I didn’t know when I would arrive. So I never reserved a spot on the bus. And when I did have a better idea, I was told it was too late to make a reservation.
But I didn’t need to worry. I was able to get the bus, for a good price. Now I’m on the way, being told that there are beautiful views of the mountain, except all the rain and clouds is preventing us from actually seeing them. The driver is trying to convince us that on our left we would be able to see the Leaning Tower of Pisa.
I got messaged before I left that they are saying there are winter conditions on the mountain. I’m wondering if that will make it easier. I’m Canadian, so the cold doesn’t bother me as much. I won’t have to carry so much in my backpack, because I’ll be wearing it. And heat is a real killer on ultras.
However, they are also saying we need to have another layer with us on the run. I may be forced to buy some more clothing there.
2012-8-30 10:52

Yesterday afternoon, after the boat trip, I took a nice walk along the waterfront until I got to the U.N. It rained a bit along the way, but nothing too serious. There I was able to take a tour. Security to get in wasn’t too bad, except I think they would have preferred if I had had a passport instead of just an Alberta driver’s license. The person taking my security had relatives in Wabamum, so I had some plausibility. 
Before the tour, I checked out the giftshop. I usually like to buy a mug as a souvenir on vacations, and one with the symbol of the U.N. would probably be a good choice. But everything in Geneva is expensive, and I did not feel like paying $20 for a mug. I’ll be buying my overpriced souvenirs in Chamonix, thank you very much.
The tour was enjoyable. We heard about the terrorist attack on the place last month. It wasn’t really covered in the news, but a rogue fox made it past security, attacked and killed one of the peacocks. It even went so far as to eat the body. This is an wanton act of terror and I’m surprised that more people aren’t upset about it.
In one of the first conference rooms, we learned about how they arrange the countries, alphabetically. This immediately made me recall an old “Yes, Minister” episode, so I had to ask “Does that mean Iran, Iraq, and Israel all sit together?” I had it explained how they made exceptions for the first two during their war, and how they were each encouraged to use different, doors. Israel is saved by the presence of Ireland.
I also asked about the difference between Geneva and New York. Apparently the leaders meet in New York, but all the work is done in Geneva. “New York is the brains, and Geneva is the muscle.” So if one wants to present demands to the U.N., you can’t do it here.
After the tour it was raining. I can’t really explain it, but that seemed to make me happy. I guess I like being out, ignoring inclement weather, while everyone else scurries around trying to stay dry. I don’t know how my pictures of the outside will turn out. The fountains lose something in the pouring rain, but I did enjoy the man who had two kids on his bicycle, deliberately riding through the fountains.
The walk back home was long, and I’m starting to get concerned that I’m not giving my legs a good break before the ultra tomorrow.
2012-8-30 10:40

Today I got up and caught the boat to Yvoire without any difficulty. The trip was pleasant. It was sunny and I got to see all the beautiful scenery as we went along Lake Geneva, stopping at many small towns. Relaxing, and it gave my legs some needed rest.
The best feature of the boat was that there was an opening on the passenger deck to the engine below. So you could see the big pistons and flywheels working to drive the paddles.
Yvoire was quaint. It is an old medieval village, so there wasn’t much to see or do. I’m glad there was only an hour long stopover. I took a bunch of pictures, and then had the traditional lunch of Lake Geneva, Filets de Perches. It was basically the French version of fish and chips. Good, and I got ice cream with it.
Then back to the boat. It was less crowded on the return. At around two o’clock I got rather sleepy, so I was able to lay down and rest. This caused me to get a bit too much sun on my face, so there is a little similarity to a raccoon now. I didn’t wear sunscreen because yesterday it was completely cloudy when I wore it. Why would I need it today when the weather report said cloudy and rainy?
There was only one issue on the trip. Someone sneezed and I reflexively blessed them. I did catch myself, and realized that I was in a foreign country and “Gesundheit” might be a better saying. A few minutes later, another tourist started talking German to me.

I’m trying to figure out what to do tomorrow. I want to be lazy, because I spent too much time on my feet today. I thought of taking a boat ride on Lake Geneva, but it looks like it will be raining tomorrow. I might finally get to the U.N. and there was that tower I wanted to climb. I could go swim in the Lake. It is going to be warm.
Most of these feel like a waste of opportunity. I should be doing fun and exciting thing that I can’t do at home. A friend once said that he did a European vacation where he rented a place and just acted like it was his home.
If I was home and had free time what would I be doing? Maybe some programming. At best, get a hot chocolate and do the programming at a coffee house. Those really aren’t options here. I didn’t bring a laptop, only an iPad.
I’ll figure something out.

I accidentally snuck into France looking for a Coke.
After a long hike of about 25 km, more than I probably should have, I got to my destination, the town of La Cure. I was rather thirsty so I wandered about, looking for a place that would serve me a Coke. I didn’t pay to much attention to the building marked “Douane La Cure”, but I noticed there was a lot of traffic and the license plates were more French than usual. I eventually clued in, or remembered that douane may mean “customs”. Checked my map and there’s the border. Fortunately, there was no problem sneaking back in.
The hike was good, but I wish the routes had been clearer. If I hadn’t made so many wrong turns, I wouldn’t be waiting here for 40 minutes for my train. Only comes once an hour.
It was overcast today, so I don’t think I got spectacular pictures. But it was pleasant weather for a hike. I hope Mont Blanc has similar weather.
The highlight on the way down was when I passed a farm. There were many along the way, but at this one a lady talked to me about where I was going. We discussed over a map and eventually a horse came over to see if it could help as well. (It couldn’t) And then while I was walking down the trail, a donkey tried to mug me. More of a pickpocket attempt, but it really did have to work on its nonchalant shadowing skills.
I think I hear my train now. Yep, there it is. It looks full of French day trippers.
And now the sun is coming out.
Published 16:45

What were they smoking when they set up this trail system? The markings are terrible. I’ve gotten lost way too often, despite having a good map.
I made it to the mountain. Now I just have to get to the La Cure train station without getting lost again.
According to the sign post, it should take me 2 hours and 20 minutes to get to my train. That’s when it leaves, so I can’t afford to get lost again.
Published 15:28

My hosts have indicated that there is very little to do in Geneva. Nice place to live, but I wouldn’t want to visit there. I could go to the watch museum, but I don’t think they’ll let me in if I’m wearing a digital watch.
So, I’m taking a day trip out to hike in the mountains. They gave me the schedule to take and it seemed simple enough. I got to the train station on time, and even got onto the correct train. Unfortunately, buying a ticket wasn’t nearly as easy.
I got off the train and waited in line for a ticket teller. It would have helped if I wasn’t in the bus ticket line. After redirecting myself, I got my tickets. I had long since missed my train, so I’ve got to kill time now. I played around with the ticket machines and I eventually figured them out. Got a sandwich for the hike. Now I just have to hope that I can figure out the next train station where I have six minutes to make my connection.
Published 10:28

My first day went well, except for some banking problems.
I left my cousin’s place and checked out the Jet d’eau nearby. It is basically the local equivalent of what the Eiffel tower is to Paris. Civic monument that represents the town, just not as well known. It’s a jet of water that goes 140 meters into the air. Interestingly, it is more like the movie version of the Eiffel tower, in that you can see it anywhere in the city. It actually got in the way of some pictures I wanted to take. Specifically one of Mont Blanc.
After leaving the water fountain, and watching the children pet the swans(?!) I went along the waterfront. I was getting near where I was told to have lunch when I got concerned that I didn’t have any local currency. It was harder to find a bank than I thought it would be. The place marked “private bank” wasn’t helpful, and a security guard directed me in the opposite direction. I finally stopped at the information building and was told to go even further out of my way. I got to my instant teller, got the funds, and then got the lunch.
Then I started getting tired. Not surprising with jet lag and everything. I probably only had four hours sleep in the past while. But still, I’m a trooper, so I must continue sightseeing. I went to the old city and, well, found it really boring. There was only a bunch of old buildings housing very expensive shops. Not many people on the streets. Best part was that it was hilly there so I got to climb stairs.
I checked out the cathedral of Saint Pierre. It was beautiful, and I didn’t burst into flames crossing the threshold. It did leave a trap for me though. You could pay extra to climb the tower. That sounds perfect for me. Unfortunately, I was getting really tired by this point. I’ll save that for another day, but I will be back.
I went back to home base and took a nap for a couple of hours. Then my cousin came home and we talked. Her boyfriend joined us later, and he seems very nice. We even went through some of the pictures I had from Denmark five years ago. It was fascinating to hear her perspective on a bunch of them.
The plan for tomorrow is to go for a hike in the mountains by myself. Wait, isn’t that the traditional way tourists go missing in Europe?

I have arrived and am at my cousin’s place. The airport and bus system were fairly efficient and she gave me good directions.
I haven’t done much so far. I plan to go out and wander the mean streets of Geneva. She’s gone off to work, leaving me to my own devices.
Note: “One Thousand Words” was not a terrible movie. It wasn’t funny, but it was a pleasant drama. Mind you, I fast-forwarded through the parts that looked like silly slapstick. Sigh. I remember when Eddie Murphy was funny.

First leg could have gone better
One of the reasons I will choose Air Canada over another carrier is that they have really nice televisions at each seat. No extra cost and you can choose any movie. Good selection too.
Unfortunately, at my seat, the television didn’t work. After about fifteen minutes I was able to be switched with a Sikh gentleman who wasn’t using his. I did get to keep having a window seat, but the new guy in front of me liked having his seat back; one of my biggest peeves.
Choosing a movie to watch in an airplane is a difficult matter. I don’t want to watch a big epic movie, because those you want to watch on a big screen. A seat television is not a big screen. I also don’t want to pick a movie that might be a movie night option in the future. What I am left with are movies that I don’t believe will actually be that good. Which works out in a way. I am a captive audience, so I can’t squirm away from embarrassing scenes.
I saw “Dark Shadows” first. It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t great either. Overall, I guess I would say it wasn’t a waste of my time. Your mileage may vary, depending on how much you like Johnny Depp.
For my next movie, I saw “The Adventures of Tintin”. I’m not sure how I felt about this. I have read all of the Tintin stories, so I’m familiar with the characters. For the most part, they acted appropriately, except for one previously minor character turning into a big villain. It fell into the trap of trying to be too 3D, which was annoying in a 2D screen. Objects leaping out at you make me feel like I am not the target audience.
I guess my biggest complaint was that there were areas in the movie that felt rushed and could have been dealt with better. Instead, the time was spent making big, contrived, action scenes that felt out of character with the original stories.
Maybe it would have been better if I wasn’t familiar with Tintin before watching.
I actually can’t completely comment on the film. My flight ended before I could see the last fifteen minutes.

I’ve arrived at the airport. I’m through security and now I’m just waiting to board.
I don’t know if I’m ready for this. I’m pretty sure I woke up screaming this morning. Am I forgetting anything?
Hopefully my condo will still be standing when I get back. I’ve got people coming in while I’m gone. People I trust not to throw wild parties.
The plan is to water my plants. There are three of them, two on the deck and one in the computer room. The computer room one has an automatic acting system, so it should be good, but I don’t know if it waters enough. On the deck there is the hops which seems to want gallons of water. And then there is the large pot that has a lot of dead plants in it, but still has some oregano that I hope survives. I’ve been using my kettle to do the watering. Checking the mail would also be nice.
In exchange for these services, I’m letting someone use it to prepare for her wedding which will be at the church next door. And in addition, other friends get to borrow the car. The car is nearly out of gas, so I’m not that nice.
If I’m sounding rather specific about trivialities that no one should care about, it is because I’m hoping this serves as a reminder/instructions to my friends.
Thank you.

In a few days I leave for Europe. I’m not bringing my laptop, so updating the blog will be harder. I still want to do it though. But with this post I am proving that I can do it with my iPad. That will be a lot easier to use.

Am I a bad person?
Today, the Canadian Death Race ended. My friend, Mike was running it. Mike is a person I am very competitive against. I failed to finish the Sinister 7, the first time I had ever failed to finish an ultra. Mike did finish. So he remained undefeated. This left me feeling like I was on unequal footing with him. If he has something over me, I don’t feel I am on the same level.
I think there was a Community episode about this.
Mike however did not finish the Death Race. From the reasons above, it is clear a large part of me didn’t want him to finish. But I did want him to finish. I would have bet money on him finishing. I know the suckage that happens when you don’t finish an ultra. Not much immediately, but it grows over time.
It does make it clear that it is good I didn’t do the Death Race. Four weeks is apparently not enough time to recover from an ultra.
I did however, go out and run 58.4km today. I wanted one last long training run before Mont-Blanc. I had a route planned out that would have taken me all the way to the Anthony Henday bridge. However, 28km in, as I was nearing Terwillegar park, I came across a large puddle. As soon as I stopped to contemplate my options, I was attacked by a lot of mosquitos. That’s when I decided that Terwillegar park is probably going to be very similar to this one spot. I turned around and decided to retrace my route. Including all the long-cuts I had done to keep the distance true.
It got rather hot. Thankfully, there is a COLD water tap in Hawrelak park that I soaked my head in. But still, it was a long trip home.
Only I didn’t go directly home. I ran past home to go to a Subway restaurant. I wish I had been five seconds faster. Just as I was getting there, a gaggle of four women were entering. Be polite and let them in first. And I didn’t have the energy to fight them. So I was waiting what felt like ten minutes before I could order my sub.

Lately, I’ve gotten out of the habit of reading. I used to read a lot. The first time I ever went without cable television, my reading rate exploded. That was causing problems. When you watch a television show, you have an idea as to when it will be over, and can plan accordingly. Say, going to bed at a decent hour. If you read a book, you don’t have that guarantee. It might be too good to put down. And then you’re up past midnight trying to see how the hero is going to get out of this mess.
Most of my reading these days has been subsumed by comics. Comics are easy to read. They are especially quick if you don’t look too much at the images that people poured their heart and souls into. And you don’t have to have too many brain cells firing to read.
Aside: The only good thing to come out of the Smurfs movie is that I could get Smurf books again. I liked the Smurfs growing up, and it was a great tragedy that haunted my grade five experience when my one Smurf book was stolen at school. It was about a flying smurf (because I couldn’t get Astrosmurf) and I still haven’t found a copy of it in all the reprints. But now I’m realizing that I’m not enjoying these books. The last, featuring real Smurf on Smurf action, just left me bored. I think it is time to grow up and put childish things away.
Anyway!
For Christmas, I got the biography of Steve Jobs from my parents. At the time, I would read the later parts of it and find it really interesting. But it soon ended up in the pile of books by my bedside that I intended to read, but never seemed to. Then a couple of weeks ago, my father mentioned that he would like to borrow it to read.
Suddenly this book has become the most important thing to do. Must finish before I see my parents for their anniversary next week. It hasn’t been easy to get into reading again. Part of it is the fault of the book. There is no heroic narrative that will make me inhale the book. Instead, there is a significant slog through the early part of Steve Jobs’ life. Frankly, it is rather boring. Not terrible, but maybe it is a story I’m already familiar with. But now that I’ve gotten to the part where he buys Pixar, it is becoming much more interesting. I can see me getting into the stage of not being able to put it down.
His later life is much more interesting than his early life. He mellowed and became more likeable. Instead of the spoiled brat he was.

I used to write much more in my journal; several times a week. Now it is very sporadic. Is this better? Quality over quantity. (But quantity is its own quality.) Lately, I’ve only been writing when something noteworthy has happened in my life. Could it have something to do with all the spammers that try and post “comments” after every entry?
There was a time when I noticed that I seemed to always update the journal after a Wednesday or Sunday run. Or do people want to know the random trivia that happens in my day to day existence?
I got sunburnt today when I ate lunch outside and decided to try and balance out my extreme Farmer’s tan.
I did seven set of Hotel MacDonald stairs.
Meh.
The Death Race is this weekend. I am not going, but most of my running friends are. I feel left out. I am not doing it because it is only four weeks before Mont Blanc, which is more important. (I keep telling myself that.) I need the recovery time.
But I recovered fairly quickly from the Sinister 7, so I don’t know if that is true. And that was only four weeks ago.
I’m starting to feel more regretful about not finishing the Sinister 7. Immediately after my failure of 135km, I did not feel bad. Time does not heal all wounds. Time sometimes makes them worse.
In solidarity of my friends doing the Death Race, I think I’ll try and run 60km this Sunday. I do need the distance training.

Last weekend was busy for me. An old friend from out of town came to visit. So on Friday evening we went out for a dinner together. On Saturday morning I snuck in a 28.3km run. In the afternoon, I went to see The Dark Knight Rises with my friend. Then we were up until one in the morning playing board games.
And the next day I got up at five o’clock to go for a 175km bike ride.
Most people will train a long time for an event of physical endurance. Apparently I just do them on impulse.
The Tour d’Alberta. Three days before, I signed up because a friend suggested it. And of course, I’m not going to do anything less than epic, so I chose the full 175km course.
The longest I had ever cycled before was about 56km. My bicycle is about three months old. Two weeks ago I was on the Sinister 7. The day before, the run of 28.3km. At five o’clock I was up, functioning on four hours of sleep, and we drove up north for the start at seven.
It was a well run event, and it left me free from worry. There were lots of aid stations, so I didn’t need to worry about food. Mechanics on motorcycles were always going by, so I didn’t need to worry about breakdowns.
I did need to worry about the pain in my seat. At about the halfway point, it was becoming clear I hadn’t sat in a bicycle seat for long enough to get used to it. Shifting and standing was necessary. The other problem was my hands were aching from pressing against the handlebars. Maybe I should have worn gloves? Would they have helped?
I did approach the whole event from the perspective of a runner. There were four ways this was apparent.
First, I tracked the distance remaining by comparing to ultramarathons. After the first aid station, I only had a Sinister 7 to do. The second left me with only a Death Race. Third was a Blackfoot. It did feel strange when I had to compare to only a marathon.
Second, I announced intentions to pass. I find that runners seem to be more friendly and vocal than cyclists. As a runner, I say good morning and let people know I’m about to pass. When the 100km group (of 700 people) met up with the 175km group (of 240 people) the roads got very crowded. I let people know I needed to pass, and then thanked them when I did. Not many other people did that.
Third, I learned about physics. There was a gentleman I passed, who I noticed was right behind me immediately afterwards. My first thought was, that he was faster than he had seemed, so I tried to pull to the side and insist that he go ahead. I found out that he didn’t want to pass, as he was using me to tow him along. This is called drafting. He didn’t ask for permission to do this. Is this normal behaviour for cyclists? It felt really creepy.
Finally, there are more cute girl cyclists than there are cute girl runners. I don’t know what to do with this information, but I feel I should do something.
In the end, I crossed the finish line at about seven hours and seventeen minutes. And there I was presented the award for finishing.
Last year, there was a medal. But they had polled the participants to see if they would prefer something more practical. However, they instead decided to give something more IMPRACTICAL. When you are at the level that would do this kind of event, the last thing you need is another plastic water bottle.
There was a supposed pasta dinner afterwards. I took one look at it and felt sick. I know I should have eaten, but I just did not feel like I could. I ate a bit of fruit, then we went home where I slept and suffered through the sunburn. In my defence, I did put on sunscreen, but I missed the edges of my clothes. And really, when you are out for over seven hours in hot weather, there is only so much sunscreen can do.

Last week I attempted the Sinister 7. I wish I could say that I finished it, but I did not. I did not make the cutoff for the end of the second last leg; missed by fifteen minutes. It is the first time I have been unable to finish an ultramarathon.
Still, I did 135km under brutal conditions. It was +28 during the day, and the afternoon leg was over a mountain that had had a fire destroy all the trees. Hellish. Apocalyptic. Then at around four o’clock, while I was on top of a mountain, the cold rain hit, turning the rest of the mountain into mud. Slippery mud.
Most importantly, I never gave up. I timed out. I did not decide that I couldn’t make it any further. So I don’t have to constantly wonder if I could have made it.
But I should have been able to. My friend, that I’m personally competitive against, was able to finish the entire race with 37 seconds to spare. I was ahead of him most of the way. Except on leg 5, where I think all my problems happened. It was dark, and I was alone for most of it. It started to wear on me, and doubts appeared.
Overall, the biggest problem is I didn’t take the race seriously enough. I always assumed I would finish, and that is wrong. I should have made plans of how long each leg would take so I could better approximate how much I should rush. Because of that, I tended to linger on the transitions.
My mother was there to provide support, and she was great at it. But she was too good. She was supportive, but she never once told me that I had been there long enough and needed to get going. That is an important criteria in support.
Most legs started with a big hill, which meant that I would walk that part. I should have been more willing to go immediately, instead of remaining sitting down and continuing to digest food I had just eaten.
The first leg was okay, and was on streets a lot of the way. The second leg really started to go into the mountains. I wasn’t doing that bad, but the heat was starting to rise, and there was one part where it felt like they had placed a wall on the trail for people to climb over. The third leg was where things got bad. It involved climbing around a mountain that had been hit by a forest fire in nearly a decade ago; no cover from the sun.
By the fourth leg, it was cooling down and I was able to go faster. But I took too long at the transition to the fifth leg, trying to horn down a soup with much needed calories. I had been told the aid station was ten kilometres in, so two hours later when I met some ATV’s, I was shocked to hear it was still over four kilometres to go. I later found out it was 15km in. But the damage had been done. I had slowed down.
I finished the leg just ahead of the cutoff. I thought I would easily be able to make the next 12km in two hours. It was all downhill; how hard could it be.
Well, it was mostly downhill, but there were a lot of depressions in it that were too steep to run down. The aid station, I had been told was 9km in. But when I hit it, I was told I had 5km to go. That was when I had half an hour left before cutoff. I tried to rush, but there is only so much you can do. So I failed to finish that leg. When the cutoff time hit, I didn’t have the energy to make a strong finish, and I walked the rest of the way in. Fifteen minutes later, I was done.
I’m hoping this failure is good for me. I can’t assume I’ll always make it. This lesson should serve me well in France.

So it is traditional for me to go to the pancake breakfast at the legislature for Canada Day. And for the past few I’ve taken to walking there. I probably got annoyed with trying to park there on the busiest day and I have a pavlovian response to that.
I probably should have left earlier. A half hour into my walk it started to rain. Not a lot, but noticeable. I did not have a jacket or an umbrella with me, because I don’t want the weather to think it can push me around.
It did get a bit worse by the time I arrived. But that actually made it easier to eat. There were no lines. The pancakes were fresh and hot. It wasn’t crowded around the syrup stands. Easy to find a seat.
And as time went on, the rain started coming down harder.
Yes, I did get a little wet. Enough that a politician (I think) took a picture of me getting rained on, saying he was going to put in on Twitter.

There is something comforting about partaking in a work of fiction that has been spoiled.
I’ve purchased many trade paperbacks (i.e. big comic collections) in my time. A lot of the time I will flip through them before I really read them. I usually regret this as it spoils the story. At least I assume it does. With comics it is also fairly easy to find out what has been going on in them by reading the internet. It takes several months of the comic coming out regularly before there is enough that can be compiled together for a book.
But this weekend I purchased a book I don’t know the conclusion of. I’ve been fairly good at not peeking ahead. But it is by an author not known for being nice to his characters.
And I dread reading it.
I know it will be a good story, but the fact that I know bad things will happen, is making me uncomfortable reading it. It doesn’t help that in the first couple of pages, the hero lists the bad things that happen because he didn’t get out of the game.
The equivalent is Joss Whedon, and his predilection for killing your favourite characters.
Compare and contrast with Star Trek. There you know there will always be a happy ending and nothing will change. That is very comforting. It may not be the best, but you don’t always want tragedy in your life.

Last week I did my first race of the year, the Blackfoot 100km. I finished in 13:13:43.
It was not easy.
I had taken three weeks off from running to let my knee get better. Well, not actually my knee, but my IT-band. You feel it in the same area. But it felt like that time off didn’t do a lick of good. After about 10km, my knee felt just like it did before. The vacation hadn’t helped.
But it wasn’t pain. It just felt like something pressing on the side of my knee. And being stupid, I decided to ignore it and keep going. After the first loop of 25km, I put on a knee brace, and that seemed to help. It still felt off, but not as badly. I was able to push on and finished the whole thing. Unfortunately, I didn’t put the thing on too tightly, so the spiky part of the velcro rubbed against the back of my knee for 75km. Skin does not appreciate that.
I did make a mistake on the first two loops. I was running alone, and somehow decided to count the number of uphills. I believe the result came out to 116 uphills on the loop. And the people on the Wapiti aid station seemed happy to know they were hill 69. But the problem was that I focussed to much on the hills. It made the run harder.
Thankfully, on the last two loops I had caught up with a friend. The conversation helped distract me from the agony of the run.
Afterwards, my knee felt fairly good. Well, compared to the rest of my body. But since the rest of me was in a lot of pain, that really isn’t saying much.
On Thursday I did a very slow 2km run. It was painful. But not in the knee. It took several days for my quads to calm down after that. It only got better today.
But when I went for a run today, my knee flared up again. It was as soon as I hit my first uphill. Which explains how I got past it in the race; I walked every uphill on the course. I decided to turn around and go home before I did too much damage.
The problem is that I need to run. It is my best way of being with what I can laughably call my “social support network”. I’ve been dealing with a lot of stuff lately, and I’m not feeling great about life. It helps to talk about it with friends who are forced to stick with you for several hours. I’ve been more open with them than with many other people, probably because my brain gets turned to mashed potato after awhile and my self-filter gets shut off.
Now my next race is the Sinister Seven, which is in a month. I’ve got a lot of doctor appointments this week. Hopefully I’ll be able to get this IT-band straightened out quickly.

I’ve fallen a bit behind in my blogging. My excuse is that I’ve been really busy. This will be my first weekend in the last four where I get to be home with both time and energy. Which means I’ll be cleaning up my condo for most of it.

Last Friday, I was at a friend’s wedding. It was a nice time, and I’m sorry I had to leave early for a prior engagement. I probably would have done more dancing if my knee had been feeling better and wasn’t needed for the aforementioned prior engagement. The food was excellent and I ate quite a bit of it.
I’m lucky I’m a guy. For men, the bar for wedding gifts is really low. If there is a registry, you just get something on it and call it a day. But for this wedding, there was none. I went shopping half-an hour before the ceremony. That’s probably not good, but the first place I went to, I immediately saw the perfect gift. The place didn’t do gift-wrapping, but I was in and out in less than two minutes. All the staff I talked to were friendly and courteous.
I’m probably going to do all my gift shopping at CIBC now.

On Saturday I have a big race. Well, it isn’t big, but it is long. I haven’t had a good run in four weeks. I had a pain in the side of my knee that made running risky. I took a week off, and it got better, but after 8km of running it was back. Now I haven’t run for three weeks. So hopefully I will have healed enough.
To help it along I have been getting physical therapy and frequent massages. I also tried out a new physical therapist at River Valley Health. There they are more specialized for runners. They noticed that there were some important muscles that were very weak, so I have to do some exercises for them.
They also gave a quick review of what to watch for when I run. Most importantly, I need to keep my hips level. To demonstrate what not to do they did a movement that looked straight out of a salsa dance.
I have a wedding to attend tomorrow. How will this affect that? Will I be able to do the Funky Chicken?

I’ve been away from Edmonton for the past week. I’ve been in Calgary for some training. This has given me an excellent opportunity to observe the city in its native environment.
It is quite clear that Calgary is the richer city. Not necessarily better, but it is richer. The locals feel much more open about spending money on expensive cars. Or fashionable clothes.
The buildings are also higher (do they have something to prove?) but that might just be because they haven’t had an in-city airport that prevents skyscrapers from being built.
Now, I’ve never really been in downtown Edmonton during the workday, but I don’t feel it flaunts its money as much. That same fact makes it hard to compare/contrast, because I’m not sure what my Edmonton baseline is.
I have to continue with my theory that Calgary hates drivers. They seem to work very hard to make it as inconvenient as possible.
I wish I could say more, but on the drive down last Saturday, I felt myself getting sick. It really hit me by Tuesday, getting the worst on Wednesday. That evening I started taking cold medicine so Thursday was pretty good. I’ve slowly been getting better. This did mean I didn’t get to do as much as I would have liked to do.
There were two things I would have liked to try and do. I could have checked out the zoo, which I’ve heard very good things about. But I felt that it was more important to get a lot of sleep instead of gawking at animals. The other thing would be to perform my favourite foreign city hobby and climb the Calgary tower. Unfortunately I found out that you can only do that on one day each year.
I did have a good walk to what I think is the best game store in Alberta, and then along 17th Avenue.