Mr Trail Safety Speaks!

Julie Andrews would be proud. Sunburn on noses and black flies that’ve bitten Bottles run dry and woods that I’ve shit in, Rattlers coiled up and ready to sing These are a few of my favorite things Comments on salt and trail-head poodles Hairballs and GU-packs and DNFs that are noodled, Lo-mileage coaches that fly on their wings These are a few of my favorite things Long tortured debates on mountain money, Why LEDs and flashlights are so gosh-darn funny! Early departures from motel bed-springs These are a few of my favorite things When the dog bites When the bee stings When I'm feeling sad I simply channel my favorite Ultra things And then I don't feel so bad [originally written May 2005]

I didn't choose it, it chose me. 'All happy ultras are alike; each unhappy ultra is unhappy in its own way.' Dr Sevende Sandia, obscure Mexican mystic Normally this story begins as One Man’s Challenge—the original plan of a 50-mile ShoppingKart Odyssey; and was thwarted when the cart did not leave the Gelson’s lot. And therein lies the story of redemption, and how the sport of ultrarunning was spared irreparable harm as a result. Read on. Or skip ahead to the fart jokes and trail porn further down. Scenic Chavez Peaks on a sunnier day.   PREQUEL to The Morning Skinny The Sean O’Brien 50 was my first 50-mile race since 1999, where I DNF’d at Leona Divide. On a wild notion I signed up for it, the course was the same one I’d first starting trail running on in 1990. Course begins and ends at Malibu Creek State Park—a 14mi stem with a 22mile loop through Zuma Cyn, then back to the barn. The 100k, 50k, and marathon were run with wave starts on variations of the...