People who take on large, maybe incomprehensible, challenges are often asked “why?”  It is a complicated question that elicits very personal answers that can change over time.

So rather than try to outline a universal truth, I offer some observationsNd thoughts. First, people pursue these challenges to validate who they think they are. Example: if you see yourself as curious, open to new experiences and a “citizen of the world”, then you occasionally have to do things that present proof that this self perception is justified.

Second, people pursue these challenges to align themselves with who they aspire to be. Example: if you want to believe that you are the type of person who would run across the desert with all your gear and food on your back, you occasionally have to put yourself in those situations.

Validating or aspiring through big challenges both involve risk; the risk of learning you are not who you say you are…or who you hope to become. There is honor in striving, of course, but falling short hurts. Completing the task is the ending we are all chasing. And yet, fighting your way to the starting line is its own victory and getting there deserves more credit.

One more thing: undertaking one of these challenges changes you. Nearly everyone I talk to uses words like “reset”, “recalibrate”, “perspective” when describing their experiences with big challenges. Think about it: when the 2026 Gobi Marchers boarded the buses for Camp 1 last Saturday, the hotel showers in Ulaanbaatar were an unremarkable necessity of modern life; returning from the desert seven days later, those same showers are a luxury. It works in reverse too: that aggravation with a co-worker or a contractor seems a little less significant when you’ve been sleeping in a tent for a week and covering roughly 25 miles per day.

The changes that come from these challenges are desirable changes. Perhaps so desirable that the changes should be their own reason for pursuing big challenges. Unfortunately, the changes are temporary. Which means that however you articulate your “why”, every now and again the striver needs to find a new challenge and pursue it. See you out there.

See Paulie had a system. He would slice the garlic with a razor, so thin that the garlic would liquefy in the pan.”

• It’s dark now and I am alone.  Leaving the overnight checkpoint, the course takes me down a long dusty road. Paranoia has set in because I am on constant alert that any passing car might indicate that the kidnappers have arrived.
• The distance to checkpoint is almost eight miles.  I think it was all uphill. I am still alone.  It starts to rain right around the time my headphones die.
• After checkpoint seven is camp.  The distance from CP7 to camp is also nearly eight miles.  I am no longer running at all, so the ~15 miles from CP6 to camp is going to take five long hours (we started today’s stage at 8am so it has already been a long day).   This estimate is calculated before I know about the hills…or the rain.
• By the time I get to CP7 (which has also been hidden), it is raining sideways and the always cheerful checkpoint team has a fire roaring and disco music blasting.  Knowing that I could sink into this comforting and happy vibe, I leave immediately.
• After a brief descent, the climb continues its torture.  The ground is uneven and I have the irrational fear that I might end my adventure with a sprained ankle (see Note on paranoia, above).
• Just then, I remember a previous comment from one of my tent mates that the sounds we heard one night were …wolves.  So now I’m wondering if I could fight off a wolf with my hiking poles.  Then I remember that wolves hunt in packs and are very strategic.  I determine that if the wolves come for me, it is game over.
• I talk myself out of this spiral by noting that the wolf comment was made when we were in the mountains, that the RTP team has been staging this race for 20 years and surely knows not to route their course through a wolf killing ground, and finally that many runners have passed through this area in the preceding hours - what are the chances the wolves passed on those potential meals to wait for me? (See Note on paranoia, above).

Saturday at 7am, competitor briefing at the Novotel Ulaanbatar.  130 of us are signed up to take on the 155-mile / 250-kilometer Gobi March.  That’s 130 stories of training and persevering, planning and dreaming.  I want to complete the miles, but I also want to hear the stories.  Where did these racers come from and what is their “why”? How did they train? What is their race strategy?  Lots of trail hours ahead for those conversations.

I live in Evanston, just outside of Chicago.  Chicago is great for many reasons: food, culture, Lake Michigan.  It is also great because you can get pretty much anywhere in the world from O'Hare.  But Mongolia took real effort.  Three flights and nearly 30 hours of travel from door to door.  I'm a little bleary eyed, but it is a small price for a big adventure.

I left my house at 6am on Wednesday and by the time I got to the hotel, it was after 11pm on Thursday.  I was up early on Friday morning to take a tour of the Ghenghis Kahn statue, the Terelj National Park and the temple located within the park.  If the scenery in the park was a preview of what we will see on the course, it is going to be an amazing week.

Back to the briefing.  It is a straightforward meeting which takes roughly 30 minutes. The race organizers introduce themselves and tell us what to expect this week. There is a large and experienced medical staff.  Let's hope they are the equivalent of the carried umbrella that ensures the rain does not arrive.  Next up is more administrative stuff, small group meetings to verify that all forms have been submitted and each of us has the required gear, electrolytes and food.

My gear check time was 9:30.  I have passed gear check with a pack that weighs 10.5kg, roughly 25 pounds.  This is actually pleasing to me because while I think my pack looks cartoonishly large compared to the other racers, it is more or less the average pack weight. Still, 25 pounds is a lot.  The good news is that every meal and snack consumed this week will reduce the pack’s weight and volume.

We have the rest of the morning to deal with the nervous realization that this adventure is finally about to begin.  Buses leave for Camp 1 at 1pm.  The ride will be scenic and the energy will undoubtedly be great.  I am hoping to take a nap to offset my lingering jet lag. The ride will take up to six hours.  Most of us have brought takeaway meals from town for tonight’s dinner in camp.

If sports were ever important to you, you remember the feeling before the contest was about to start.  And the questions.  Did I do enough to prepare?  Will I perform up to the level of my training?  How will I react when the plan goes sideways?  Well, once you get to a certain level of…”maturity” in life, those butterflies generally become a thing of the past.  Which is not necessarily a good thing.  An event like this is a kind of magic trick because it transports you back to that time when kickoff was one hour away.  One more restless sleep followed by a Sunday morning briefing and then the race gets started…