New shift.

First Jason and Taeko run, followed by Lansing, who hands off the baton to Mary, which gets passed to Laura.

After a bunch of days of stomach troubles, I was deeply apprehensive for my new shift and my first full ten miles in about five days. Although tired of feeling fragile, I was concerned that I wasn't up to covering the distance. The afternoon air was thick with flies and diesel fumes, but a light rain cleared away most of the muck in time for my leg. From the start, I felt great -- light and fast and free -- for the first time in a week. I felt so good, in fact, that I waved enthusiastically at every passing car and truck. A honk got a smile and a flip of the baton; a horn blast got a whoop and a two-handed fist pump. One guy leaned out of the cab of a passing tractor-trailer with a camera, shouting "Blue Planet Run!!" Wow. I'm famous. I rock. Then I tripped on some uneven pavement and fell, skidding on my left knee and my right hand. Wow. I'm famous. My knee is full of rocks.

Did anyone have money on a fall outside of Novosibirsk? Bruce? Nadine? If so, I owe you a ruble or two.

First Laura, then Jason and Taeko, followed by Lansing, and finally Mary.

Russian is a language of sharp, bitten-off consonants and growly vowels : a staccato, rapid-fire language that rattles like a handful of pebbles against a window. I'm reminded of Klingon (Yes, I own I Klingon dictionary. In my defense, it's a good source for passwords.), where even the simplest conversation is conducted at 120 decibels: I AM GOING TO THE STORE! DO YOU WANT ANYTHING?! YES, BRING ME SOME SERPENT WORMS (best when served live)! Russian is a harsh language, suitable for warriors. And suited to Siberia. A loud, vigorous language is required to fill such a silent, unpopulated space.

Mary, then Laura, then Jason and Taeko, then Lansing.

Siberia is hot in the summer - a North Carolina August, hide-in-the-air-conditioning hot. How did I miss this particular piece of information? Where is the snow? And the need for huge, furry coats? The sun is fierce. I've repeatedly coated myself with sunscreen so thick and opaque it should block gamma rays (I'll swear it contains chunks of lead) and I've still managed to burn a pattern onto my shoulders. From a distance, it looks like a bunch of Cyrillic letters. Hmmm. I may have accidentally spelled "McDonalds" across my upper back.

Lansing, Mary, Laura, Jason and Taeko.

After a family of tiny bugs hitched a ride up a hill inside my nose, I dumped the skin-friendly, all natural, organic insect repellent in favor of the 100% DEET. Gleefully, I added it to the mix of sunscreen and topical antibiotic, turning my epidermis into a swamp of chemicals. Ha - I was ready for whatever the highway had to throw at me! Russian highways are thickly populated with lovely, slender white birches. They're exquisite. As I ran past them, I saw slim young girls in white dresses and skinny guys in white jeans and a herd of albino giraffe legs and menacing skeletal fingers...hey -- I've invented a new hallucinogen! Oh, and hey - I dissolved my shorts.

New shift.

Jason and Taeko, Lansing, Mary, Laura... See what you're getting into before you go
there