Word: sunsetted
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...marches?from the Lake Saroma 100-km run in northern Japan to China's Gobi March, a six-stage, 250-km painfest that locals call the "Race of No Return." But the best of them all, for combining suffering and scenic beauty, is probably the annual Mongolia Sunrise to Sunset?a 100-km, waterside race around spectacular Lake Khovsgol and the surrounding national park, scheduled this year for June 29. (If you're interested in competing, details can be found at www.ultramongolia.com...
...With its mix of deep forests, rugged hills and pristine shores, the scenery at Sunrise to Sunset is as breathtaking as the race itself?and the 60 or so runners who participate are helping to keep it that way. Co-founder Nicolas Musy, a Swiss business consultant based in China, estimates that the event has raised at least $30,000 since the first race in 1999, and much of it has gone to promoting Khovsgol as an ecotourism site. The sport has also rubbed off on the locals. Mongolia doesn't have a tradition of marathoning?in the Khans' time...
...then he strode off into the western sunset; it was dinner time with the family...
...marches - from the Lake Saroma 100-km run in northern Japan to China's Gobi March, a six-stage, 250-km painfest that locals call the "Race of No Return." But the best of them all, for combining suffering and scenic beauty, is probably the annual Mongolia Sunrise to Sunset - a 100-km, waterside race around spectacular Lake Khovsgol and the surrounding national park, scheduled this year for June 29. (If you're interested in competing, details can be found at www.ultramongolia.com.) With its mix of deep forests, rugged hills and pristine shores, the scenery at Sunrise to Sunset...
...thanks to some wonderful gizmo in outer space, I was able to stay in touch with the most minute developments in the Michael Jackson trial and the Brad Pitt--Jennifer Aniston breakup. I couldn't have been more clued in to those events if I'd been living on Sunset Boulevard, nor could I have been more detached from central Wyoming, whose raw sagebrush flats were looming in my windshield but were entirely absent from my consciousness. Until an antelope crossed the road, that is, and I had to swerve hard and hit my brakes...