After hearing 16 days of bureaucratic ups and downs, threatend deportations, and gulletfulls liver fat, I received this notice at midnight, penned in Tyler's unmistakable pixelated hand:
We start the run in 4 hours from the Caspian Sea! We've been put up in a 4 star hotel, and have a TV crew waiting at the starting line. Also, there is an ambulance ready at all times in case anything happens. They want me to carry flags promoting nuclear energy, but I said it might be hard to run with a flag. It's going on the car instead. Lots of tea and kisses in fancy offices. the local track team might join for a few miles. no sleep on the drive up here last night. going now to catch a few zzzs. we can hardly believe what's happening. the river of honey is flowing, now I just hope we have the strength to paddle.
meanwhile, 325km away in Tehran, there is a grumpy man in his office trying to figure out a way to deport me.
Golden times in Iran,
Tyler
Now it's only appropriate that I catch you, the millions of I Ran Iran fans, up on the action. It goes like this:
For the past 2 odd weeks, our friend **and first sponsored Cordarounds athlete** Tyler has been trying to get government clearance to run from the top of Iran (the majestic Caspian Sea) to its bottom (the scorching, supertanker-laden Persian Gulf). About 1000 miles lie inbetween. A clever idea indeed, but not if you're a member of the Iranian tourism industry or the ministry of foreign affairs. To them, your first instinct is to say, "that's not how it's done and, my curly haired friend, you're out of your mind." Their second instinct is to work themselves into a bureucratic lather when you persist to run Iran.
What follows is an emotional rollercoaster of approvals, denials, threats of deportation, shouting matches between opposing governmental organizations (all in Farsi, mind you, which apparently sounds like a shouting match at all times) and finally...finally...the merry band of runners, wrestlers, and government minders leave Tehran in the middle of the night, destination
Rasht.
Throughout the diplomatic wrangling, Tyler has trained with an Iranian wrestling legend who, to date, has been the lynchpin of the I Ran Iran team. He goes by The Captain (and for those Iranian freestyle wrestling buffs among you, I promise to deliver his full name in future blog posts.) When Ty failed to get clearance through the tourism ministy, the Captain turned him on to the Physical Education Organization, which is something like the International Olympic Committee, and they were able to cut enough red tape to make the mission possible. So hats off to them. And a free pair of Cordarounds to its visionary leader! Sir, just send me your address.
A final and very important note to close today's update:
Tyler is joined on this mission by his old friend Bobak, who's of Iranian descent, and will be running with our hero every step of the way. He's keeping a blog of the mission, so I Ran Iran junkies can get more and more info
there.
The next update will be filed early next week. Keep the words of encouragement coming.
I Ran IRAN Is On!
