importantly though, as thought provoking creatures, humans rate their own value of
success against a norm for that accomplishment.

Today was a roller coaster of success. Viewed, real, or otherwise. The kennel is bustling
this week. Tours are coming and going, Tasha parent's are helping out, and Ed's Iditarod
checkpoint drop bags are being packaged and shipped up to Alaska. The goal for today
was that the Captain and I run the Iditarod team forty miles in around four hours. This
would require me to harness, hook up, and bootie eight dogs on my own. Then, follow
Captain on a training course that was well groomed.

Just after lunch, Mike and I headed out and split up our team. I harnessed everyone up,
attached them to the gang line, and put 30 out of 32 booties on everyone. I was unable
to get two on, but that was my approach to the dog. As we were about to pull the hook, I
thought about just how good this run was going to be. Mike took off and I was close
behind.

As Mike made a Haw turn (left), my team made a Gee, (right). I was able to finally get
them stopped about two hundred feet up the trail. I made two earnest attempts at
turning these athletes around on my own. I could see bad things afoot, and ran to get
help. Her name was once again, Julie Benda. Julie was able to turn everyone around in
her calm and pointed manner, unhook and hop on the sled just prior to gliding the team
back into the kennel.

I opted not to run today. I feel defeated. I feel deflated. I feel like I have finally failed.

Until tonight, my mistakes have been mine. Today, I feel as though they became the
kennels.

Mike ran his team without a glitch. Tasha and her Dad were able to drop off dogs and
pick up meat. Ed worked on his drop bags. All personal and public successes.

Today was my failure. The part that hurts the most, is that in my failure, in my mind, I
may have erased all the other successes.
Team Moon Dog Sled
Racing