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After my 80 km trial around the lake I was really impressed. Extremely impressed.

Later in my room I was having a cup of tea and reading the local news online. They informed that more than a hundred sheep had been attacked and killed by a pack of wolves in Pallasovsky district of Volgograd region. Local shepherds suffered heavy damages.

I got on the train and walked to my compartment. My fellow traveller introduced himself as Nikolai. He was going from Kazakhstan. We talked, and he told me he was born in Ukraine, lived in Kazakhstan for a long time, and now he was a Russian citizen. In my opinion, he looked like a gypsy. I made tea. Hot strong puer tea warms your soul and sets your mind for philosophical thinking.

I imagined mountains. The day before, the 11th of December turned out to be the day of mountains. I had celebrated it by climbing Mountain Ulagan. In Turkic languages it means a mountain with smooth slopes.

Mountain Ulagan is a growing saline dome. It gains a few millimeters each year. If a light breeze blows over a soft rock mountain for a long time, it will finally turn into something shapeless and structureless. When it comes to a granite cliff, even storms and hurricanes will not destroy it. They will blow away dust and other waste, and the cliff will transform and have beautiful and firm facets. People are also affected by “winds”. Some of them are like sand dunes. Others are like granite cliffs.

I thought I would sleep on my way to Saratov but I couldn’t. I was making one cup of puer tea after another and spent all the time thinking, overwhelmed by emotions and thoughts. Some historical facts came to my mind whilst we were going over the Saratov railroad overpass.

From 1941 to 1945, fascist planes tried hard to bomb the bridge, but Soviet antiaircraft gunners held the line, shooting down the hostile bombers. I remembered my grandmother’s story. She lost her husband during the war. She was telling me how dark it was in the city when they turned all the light off for the night attack and only one strong light, a searchlight beam, was hunting for targets.

I came back to Saratov and went to the dacha – my small house in the countryside. Large snowflakes were falling from the sky. It was only a little frosty, –8 °С. I made a fire in the fireplace and fell asleep in the armchair, cozy under my blanket. In my dream I was surrounded by a pack of wolves. They were out for hunting, looking for prey. When you’re surrounded by wolves you can’t reveal any weakness. It can cost you life. A wolf has a photographical memory of prey’s movements and behaviour. They fix it in their brain and choose the weakest. The law of natural selection is principal in wild nature. The ill and the weakest inevitably become someone else’s food.

When you run, a kilometer after kilometer, along a snowbound steppe road, your nerves are tensed to the maximum and your brain catches and processes multiple signals and impulses, both external and internal. When I started to feel over-exertion and my knee joints began to hurt, I just kept running, trying not to show my weakness and pain. I was like an actor, performing to a full house, the only difference that I could be eaten instead of getting another round of applause. The brain filters and simply doesn’t accept the signals about pain. It is its conscious choice even though your pain and tiredness are real. The wolf becomes you, gets inside you. You can feel its sharp teeth within your thoughts and your consciousness…

I woke in cold sweats, threw some food on the fire, and remembered the recent adventure with a smile. It was a good hunt…

I was on the waiting list for long five months after I had applied to participate in the marathon when the registration had already been closed. The most important thing for me was to believe and not lose hope that I would still have a chance to take part in this epic run in spite of everything. Five months later I received an e-mail from a registered participant. It was a girl who got a sports injury and wouldn’t possibly be able to take part in the race. I paid for the slot and her slot number was transferred to my name.

I had been waiting from October to February 2018. I didn’t lose my hope for a single day! Those last three months before the race acquired a new meaning. Now I felt calm. Now I was 100 % certain I would do it. This 82 kilometer night trail was going to become my first ultra trail. At that time I didn’t have any idea how I was going to complete this distance. I had only had experience in running marathon distances, but ultra was still new to me. There was something else, something tempting and unknown, waiting for me beyond 42 kilometers. I felt 100 % physically and mentally prepared. I felt even 200 % prepared. I was ready to run and make it to the finishing line whatever it takes. I had so many training tasks to complete for the following three months. I was going to run more than 1000 kilometers over the time before the race.

In the middle of May 2018 I bought train tickets to Elton. The departure was on May 25, 2018. I arranged my accommodation with some local people again, and they agreed to provide me a small house for rent. I left on the 25th of May. It takes five hours to get there from Saratov. The carriage was a third-class sleeper, messy and noisy. The train arrived at Elton at 1 a.m. As soon as I got off to the platform I heard the excited and cheerful voices of volunteers. In spite of the late hour, they were waiting for us there, full of energy and joy.

A sandstorm suddenly arose. The gusts of strong wind were literally sweeping people off their feet. Covering my eyes with my hands, trying to protect them from sand, swirling in the air, I was struggling to plod to the local hut. The sandstorm was raging all night long. The wind quieted down only in the morning.

When I reached the small and cozy hut, I made myself comfortable and immediately fell asleep. It was not larger than 15 square meters, a small room with one bed. The sandstorm was raging all night long. The wind quieted down only in the morning.

The consequences of the sandstorm were devastating. All tents in the camp were either blown away or choked up in sand. The starting platform was destroyed. The steel constructions with lights fell down and broke. However, the organizers of the event managed to repair the damage quickly.

On the 26th of May I woke up in the hut, made myself a cup of tea, and at 9 o’clock went to the starting point to register my arrival and get the runner’s package. The marathon village looked busy and noisy, like a middle-east bazaar. There were shops and stalls with sports equipment everywhere. MC was entertaining the crowd. A famous chef was artistically performing in the kitchen, cooking various delicacies. People were queuing to taste his culinary masterpieces.

There was a border checkpoint in the same building where they registered the participants. Everyone who arrived was thoroughly explained about the rules of behaviour when in the border territory. There was also a room for massage and taping. The sports doctor was there to conduct medical examinations and confirm that the athletes are ready for extreme loads. It was like a perfect sports system where everyone completed their tasks smoothly.

The start was appointed for 8:15 p.m. It was right after the sunset. The time of the glowing aftermath. At 7:30 p.m. I was already near the starting point. I was doing exercises, warming up and getting ready for overloads. When the equipment was once again checked, I turned on my head torch and entered the starting zone.