The Mountain

Gents

As I sit comfortably at my desk, sipping espresso from a souvenir demitasse picked up along the route of the Train-Of-Pain (hope you are feeling better Carter), reflecting on a successful event, I am looking down the barrel of another challenge. My knees are only now starting to feel normal again, and this next challenge may be my undoing.

But we are a country at war, and I have received a direct order from a superior officer, and a superior athlete; Kevin Childre. It doesn't matter that I am not in the military, it doesn't matter that I have no idea what LT COMEODGRUONE means. It doesn't matter that I haven't run more than 10 (consecutive) miles in many years.

All that matters is that there is a mountain out there - taunting me. Taunting us. Flipping it's 8,365 foot middle finger at us. Practically begging to be, metaphorically, lassoed via circumnavigation by a few brave-hearted souls, led by Wayne Centrone aka The Nicest Guy in the World.

Is it coincidence that Mt. Saint Helen's blew it's stack the same year our young Will Regan was born? Possibly. Is it coincidence that Mt. Saint Helen's has erupted 45 times - the same age as Carter Goodnough? probably.

In any event - I am looking forward to the big run in October. We can use this blog site for imagery, information and entertainment. We'll get a list of runners, equipment, logistics etc. And all are encouraged to send me stuff - training folly's, updates, questions, pictures etc - and I'll get it out to the group.

67 days gentlemen. Lace 'em if you got 'em.