I'd never seen so many chipmunks on the trail before, and believe me, we stopped and chased every single one of them. I forgot how many sticks(light sabers and "shooters") a 5 and 2 year old can hold at one time, and how many rocks can fit in a pocket. And heaven forbid that one of the light sabers gets dropped! The flowers were as abundant and bright as ever and the air was cool and fresh. I also re-discovered that when the hill gets steep, saying that running up hills is good Jedi training is much more effective on 5 year olds than saying "we're almost there, just a few more steps", etc. After seeing that Sam was doing his Jedi training, Andrew even asked to get out of the backpack to train-for about 30 seconds.
Once on the crest, we downed a can of Pringles-the best chips ever made- and enjoyed the view. I couldn't help but think of the countless times I'd run through this section of the Crest trail, and all the fun I've had. As I was looking west towards Scotts Peak I thought forward about 6 weeks to the Wasatch 100. It sure would be nice to be able to run this section of the race while it is still light out, and enjoy the sights I saw on Saturday, but what is the chance of that? Not likely. The more realistic thought was, how much suffering will be going on at this point? How many people will be looking forward to the Scotts Peak aid station, or struggling just to make it there? Sometimes the thought of a warm cup of soup and an encouraging word or two is all that is needed to keep putting one foot in front of the other, and can stave off those thoughts of despair that are so prevelant during the night. Will I be suffering? Will that despair have hit me yet? Most likely.