It's the final countdown.

Que Europe.

Alright...less than 48 hours to go before the 2009 CTR. I've left the elevation behind, and am in Denver breathing the oxygen rich air of 5500 ft. Forum posts, emails and VMs are flying between racers, trying to figure out logistics. Who's staying where, how are we getting back, where's this party tonite?

Honestly, other than some childlike anxious anticipation, my general mood is:

Let's get this thing started already.

If I didn't want to share in the camaraderie of the suggested 6 am start on Sunday, I'd be off 45 mins from now. I'm fully aware that its gonna be a tough week. I'd be disappointed if there weren't multiple points at which I felt like quitting. If last week was any indication, mother nature is not in an agreeable mood. Breck experienced new snowfall at 11,500 during a storm Wednesday night. My few rides up near 12,000 were cold and wet, and the anticipated afternoon pop up style storms of the summer mountains have been replaced with 5 and 6 hours of constant drizzle, and lightning and hail at night. Maybe she's done. But I'm not counting on it.

Starting is the hard part. Day three of any adventure is a tough one, but after that it becomes routine. The transition from pedaling my bike to walking it will eventually lose that feeling of frustration that usually accompanies shoe tread to terra firma. It'll become about moving forward. Looking over the next ridge. A fun half mile of buff trail. Out running a storm. Riding by headlamp. Napping in a meadow. Reaching Durango.

The waiting is the hardest part.