It's almost 10pm here in Chicago's O'hare airport and I will be boarding a plane for Frankfurt Germany in 20 Minutes. I think it is finally sinking in that I will be spending a week at the base of Mont Blanc (the tallest Mountain in the Alps!) in the Small French Mountain Town of Chamonix. Birthplace of Alpinism, mecca for extreme skiing, home to an insane paragliding culture! And for five or so days, it will be the base camp for thousands of runners from all over the world celebrating mountain culture and running these historic trails. I've heard of the Ultra Trail du Mont Blanc for years. The food, the culture, the roar of the sound system at the starting area, the thousands of screaming fans, the cow bells ringing in your ears in the middle of the night on top of a high mountain pass. The drum of footsteps and rythym of breathing as you leave the narrow streets of Chamonix shoulder to shoulder with 2300 like minded people with a similar dream. This feels a bit like a pilgrimage to be honest. I feel like I am entering into a week at the apex of a sport I have fallen head over heels in love with over these last couple of years. I feel fortunate to embark on such an adventure. And it starts right now.
Time to board...
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