The week began in the City of 1,000 minarets and finally ended here at the Pyramids at Giza. Perhaps we should call it the city of 1,000 sattelite dishes. It was exhausting, brutal, beautiful, fulfilling, courageous, blistering, painful, soulful, sandy, outsized and outstanding. The venue is ancient, irreplaceable and unforgiving. In the end, it's the people who make the whole story.
Each of us had an army of support at home, in the tent and on the course. The relationships - old and fledgling, provided the strength throughout. Each gasping breadths were broken up with laughter.
"Normal" people believe we are crazy for participating in these events. These extraordinary events make me, at least, more normal. They nourish my soul, deepen my better qualities, sharpen my moral framework.
All this makes me a more grateful person for all those who support my efforts, including family, friends and colleagues. Every word of encouragement I store in my heart. Each is called upon at a critical moment during the week. Every hysterical one-liner is needed throughout. It gives me a lot of satisfaction to provide you plenty of material to conjure up comic relief. Good humor gets enjoyed over and over again. Glad to provide the raw material. (Believe it or not, my internal editing skills prompt me to no include in my blogs even more available content for your humor (I'll share that in private).)
Most important is this: These journies into the desert don't stop, eliminate or reduce the bigger challenges that we all face day-to-day in our real lives, illness, disability, disease, disappoints, blandness, unemployment, war. These time-outs - hopefully - give all of us a moment to re-connect with the more pure parts of our common humanity - perseverance, courage, stamina, determination, teamwork, family - for those participating and those following online. We need each other - in our homes, our neighborhoods, countries and around the world - even in unusual international athletic events.
So for me, thank you for all the support. I thank most especially my wife, Wendy.
The Sufi poet, Rumi, once said, "Sometimes the road home is home." I called upon this insight each step of the final stage of the event, and many times while traveling.
I'll see you all when I get home. We'll enjoy each other's company and have a good laugh.