Here I am, wondering just what the hell I'm doing out on the course:Tommy, looking just as surprised by the terrain on the course, which was changed to a more technical route today to accommodate a wedding in the lodge. We thought about being wedding crashers, but we were clearly underdressed.Father and son, ready to conquer the mountain: We always look so happy before these things start: The fog wasn't just in our heads, it enshrouded the mountain today at race's start: Andrew and Tommy are also trying to figure out why the hell they're spending their early Saturday morning running up hills:
Courtesy of Andrew carrying the RunCam, here's a look at the terrain:Ever wonder what a sweaty, out-of-control Clydesdale runner listening to Sympathy for the Devil looks like as he thunders to the finish line? Wonder no more. (Obviously the walker in front of me hears me coming and is feeling deservedly nervous.) Afterwards, the fog hasn't lifted, and the smiles have somewhat faded, lost somewhere in the mud or beneath Balance Rock out on the course.And of course, for all of our complaining and grousing, we'll be back again next year.