This is it. Bag is packed and everything fits inside! Third time, third race. Third time is the charm. I remember trying to pack for Patagonia, my first, and being in absolute tears because there was no way it was going to work. (Many thanks to the RTP tribe of repeat runners who descended on my hotel room and taught me quite a few things!) So thrilled that my sleeping bag is on the inside and all latches closed on the first try.

Linda, a rockstar repeat offender down the hall, saved my angst by lending me a scale, and lo and behold: 20 pounds on my first weigh-in. (Mind you, I discreetly did not include my poles and sleeping pad on that check. But who’s counting.)

I am purposely NOT opening my backpack again. The voices in my head are telling me to add and subtract with no logic, so at this point I yell BASTA and move on.

Up too early today for last texts and calls with home. A beautiful morning meditation on the river to clear my head and fire up my belly. Last clips of the nails to the nub and a small prayer to the gods of the feet to protect me this week.

Much talk of ‘you’re going to get wet,’ making me rethink sock strategy. I’m sure there will be great advice passed around the campfire tonight.

We have a 3.5-hour bus ride to Camp 1 in the middle of beautiful nowhere.

Northern Lights? I am told that because it does not really get dark, the best time to see them is between midnight and 3am if the skies are clear. We are all already talking about setting northern light alarms to awaken everyone if there is a good night. Now that would be amazing.

On the bus now, staring at so much green. Thinking about the themes of the latest season of Westworld and why they’re hitting me right now: reincarnation, different choices, different outcomes. What if I hadn’t moved to NYC? No Rob. Could have been London or Boston or LA. What if, what if. Layered in with dreams and premonition. Oh how the mind can ruminate. This should be an interesting week.

And yes, Ella: plenty of reindeer photos to come!