One of the hills that kicked my ass. That branch across the path there saved my life when I was sliding down the hill on my back, when my quad was cramping so bad that I could not straighten my leg.
Trees all over the place, sometimes blocking the way so that you had to jump over or crawl under them.
Damn hills at Psycho Wyco. An average of 500 feet of elevation change every mile! Ice! Rocks! Trecherous! (Almost 3 miles of elevation change the entire race...1.5 miles up, 1.5 miles down. My legs definatley felt it the next week!)
Temperatures in the mid teens! This is me bundled up in my windsuit from 7th grade. It is good luck. I had extremely good luck, for I did not die. It is always good not to die.
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