This past weekend added another 8 hours for a 20 hour week.  This was the last long, hard session prior to the Iditarod Trail 1,000 mile race start on February 24.

This event will take the better part of three weeks as it crosses southwest Alaska, passing through 15 or so tiny Alaska Native villages and even smaller checkpoints. 

This journey explores Alaska’s Interior as well as the interior of the athlete.  Each will include a myriad of twists and turns, and most are unexpected.  Iditarod Trail racing is never about a support team and predictability, it’s strictly about self reliance, adaptability, sense of humor, and oh yeah, physical strength, to some degree.

That’s why I was poundin’ the pedals for 5 hours at minus 20 degrees Fahrenheit on Sunday.  I’m testing equipment, systems, and, oh yeah, developing fitness.  I know my physical hardware works pretty well, but my questions generally query my own software.  I question my sanity, after more than 20 years of racing the Iditarod Trail.  Yeah, I know this is crazy.  It has totally consumed my life: purchasing, packing, shipping, training, testing, chasing sponsors, setting up a website… and then: exhaustion, fear, intimidation, and riding at -45 F for 5 days last week.  But I’m goin’ to Nome anyway.

IF the weather is decent and the trails decent it will be a good adventure.  But one never knows.  And there is always the nagging fear.  Fear of the unknown is what stifles most everyone in life.  The race will be one long, powerful, soul-wrenching saga of my cob-webbed interior space.  I may not like what I see.  But in the end, I will soon find out who is driving this boat.  So here’s hoping for a psychologically safe, non-demonic driver, good trails, consistent perseverance, intelligent application of tenacity, and no 40 below.  See you on the trails.

The results of the race will be posted here: http://www.alaskaultrasport.com/results.html