Mad Marathon, Waitsfield, Vt. - July 7, 2019 (part two)

“This is the first time I’ve gone into a marathon feeling good since Mississippi,” I told Gloria as I stood at the starting line of the Mad Marathon.

Indeed, my hamstring was in pain in Louisiana and my calf was roughed up in Kentucky.  But on this beautiful, cool morning in the mountains of Vermont, I felt great, if a little bit nervous about the giant hills ahead of me.  But there was no pressure here.  I was standing on Main Street that morning for two reasons – to run a Vermont marathon in under four hours and to see the beautiful views that the website promised.

It was obvious that most of the other runners had a similar attitude.  Along the course, people were chatting and taking photos of the scenic vistas, delivered as advertised.  Runners encouraged each other up the seemingly endless hills and - with the exception of the winner, Dylan Thayer, and runner up, Christopher Free, who completed the course in the mind-boggling, super-human times of 2:48:52 and 2:55:29 – they did not seem to be there to race competitively.  Certainly, no one was there to get a personal record.

The first two miles was through town and over a quaint covered bridge crossing the Mad River and north along Joslin Hill Road, already doing some uphill work with a climb of a few hundred feet in altitude.  We turned onto North Road and proceeded on relatively flatter terrain and across another covered bridge to a quick out-and-back on Meadow Road and then back onto North Road to the northernmost point in the race for a turnaround.  These provided us the opportunity to give well-wishes to those in front of us and behind us in the pack; and at this super-friendly marathon, several runners did exactly that.  Since I was taking it more slowly than usual, I made sure to greet and encourage every runner that I passed (or passed me).  These little turnarounds also provided the opportunity to count runners and see where I was placed (not that it mattered…but it did…a little).  Counting the blue bibs coming back at me (half-marathoners wore yellow), I determined that I was in 27^th place in these early miles, and my pace was at around 8:00 per mile, right on target.

The next several miles took us south on North Road, past where we turned from Joslin Hill Road, and south on Common Road and East Warren Road toward something the race officials referred to as “the dip”, which was a sharp downhill followed by a sharp uphill (each about 200 feet in elevation), before continuing the long 900-foot ascent that started around mile seven and finally peaked at around mile 16.  I managed to tackle the dip at a reasonable pace of around 9:00 per mile, and as the long ascent wore on, the difficulty was eased by the gorgeous views of the mountains and ski slopes as well as a happy fellow named Cary who recognized me from the Hatfield & McCoy Marathon last month. While I tried to maintain a somewhat even (though slow) pace of running, his tactic was to run the short downhills and walk the steep uphills. This had the effect of us constantly leap-frogging each other during several miles, giving us a chance to chat a bit about the craziness of what we were doing (and remark on how wonderfully tolerant our wives were throughout it all).

The elevation finally leveled off a bit as we turned off of East Warren Road and made a rectangle along Roxbury Mountain, Senor, Fuller Hill and Plunkton roads before heading back north on East Warren into the last few miles of the race.  After all that uphill climbing, that four-mile section should have felt good; but instead, I felt fatigued on its gently rolling terrain. I was logging miles in the low-8s at that point, and I accepted this to be completely fine.  I think had even gotten myself as far as 25^th place at one point, so everyone else must have slowed down, too.

What goes up must come down, so when I was finally on East Warren, with a net downhill for the final seven miles of the race, I decided it would be OK to pick up the pace again, since the hard work was over.  This worked out well for miles 20 through 22, hitting my first sub-8-minute miles since the first half of the race and what might have been my fastest mile all day.  But I had forgotten one thing – the return of the dip.

Somehow, it had slipped my mind that on the return trip toward town, I would have to tackle the dip again.  The steep uphill even looked more daunting this time.  No matter how slowly I took the ascent (upper 9s) it felt like too much work.  By the time I crested the hill, I was officially ready for the race to be over.  Adding anxiety to my fatigue, a few runners were coming back toward me, saying we were all going the wrong way.  I have learned from my past experiences to keep a copy of the map and turn-by-turn directions in my pocket, so I stopped for a moment, checked my notes, determined that we were on the right track, and pressed on.

I knew everything was OK, but I felt uneasy, so hitting the mile 23 marker was a bit of relief.  Still, some damage had been done – the energy drain of the climb out of the dip and the nervous feeling of possibly being off course sent my stomach into a tailspin.  I tend to carry stress and anxiety in my tummy, and it was being pushed to the brink as I made the turn onto Joslin Hill Road for the final 5K of the course.  As it has in so many previous races (but not since Youngstown last year), my stomach knotted up tightly, signing the death warrant for this race.  All I could do for the last three miles was survive.

Mile 24 took more than 10 minutes.  “So what,” I thought.  “People run entire marathons at a slower pace.  I just need to run two more miles in the next half hour.” 

The pain grew so great, it felt like there were evil hands inside my belly wringing out my stomach like a wet washcloth – gripping and twisting, tighter and tighter.  I could not take it anymore, so I walked for about a minute, and the pain subsided.  But as soon as I tried to run again, it came right back.  I suppose I could have walked to the finish and still come in under four hours (barely), but that is just not me. 

So I pushed on.  It did not matter how slowly, as long as I was running, because running a marathon means running a marathon.  OK, I was probably shuffling more than running at that point, but it was still slightly faster than walking.  I was also grunting and groaning from the intense pain; so much so, that a volunteer near the covered bridge at Mile 25 asked if I needed help.  I told him it was stomach problem and that I would make it.

Finally on Main Street, with several runners passing me, I was relieved that it was almost over - 23 amazing, beautiful, challenging but fun miles, followed by three awful, painful, gut-wrenching ones.

The last mile probably took about 12 minutes (and seemed like an eternity), but every step brought me closer to the end, and when I made the last turn and saw the finish line (and Gloria, who immediately recognized that I was suffering), I stretched my arms out, tried to straighten up my posture, and entered the chute in the grassy area, surrounded by various flags on each side, and an archway that resembled a barn.

Once I crossed (at 3:43:14, second out of 17 in the males 40-44 group) I immediately hit the ground, doubled over and kneeling, trying to catch my breath, thinking I may lose composure and start outright weeping.  Gloria helped me up and we made our way to a picnic table where I rested for a few minutes.  Once my stomach and breath normalized, the fatigue in my legs kicked in as we slowly walked to Gloria’s car.  Within a half hour, we were back at the hotel and I was showering, and at noon, we checked out and hit the road.  I would have loved to stick around the beautiful towns of Waitsfield and Warren, but we had a seven-hour drive ahead of us. 

Once we got home, we met with our friends and went out to an all-you-can-eat Indian buffet.  Still wearing my huge medal and baby-stepping to the buffet, I was asked by a 20-something kid if the medal was from a marathon and where.  I told him I had just run a marathon in northern Vermont.

“You ran a marathon in Vermont this morning?” he asked.

“Yeah.  I know, crazy, right?”

Not just crazy.  Mad.

Mad Marathon, Waitsfield, VT (part one)

48 hours after Gloria and I drove home from the Phish shows in Saratoga Springs, N.Y., we headed north again, and this time it was a six-hour drive to Waitsfield, Vt., for the Mad Marathon.

Northern Vermont, of course, is the birthplace of that band that I love so much, and the area is steeped in Phishtory.  The last time I was up there, I went to Burlington and saw Nectar’s, which is now legendary for being the venue where Phish essentially formed its sound by playing dozens of shows there in its early years.

A lesser known venue, however, is Gallagher’s, where the band played several gigs in those same formative years (often between Nectar’s gigs).  Though Gallagher’s is no more, the building still stands and is occupied by Sage restaurant. It just so happens that the place is at the end of Main Street in downtown Waitsfield, down the block from the start line of the Mad Marathon.  It was quite interesting see the little building where the same band that had sold out Fenway Park that very weekend played to tiny audiences 30 years ago.

As with our previous three marathons, it was pouring rain on the day before, and packet pickup was under a tent outside the Waitsfield Inn on Main Street.  Despite it being warmer than 70 degrees (F), the rain gave me chills.  At that point, I just wanted to eat an early dinner (delicious Italian food down the block at Peasant), have a local craft beer (at the Local Folk Smokehouse), check into our hotel (the lovely Sugarbush Inn in nearby Warren) and wind down.

There was no time for sightseeing on this trip.  We would be in town for less than 24 hours.  But I knew that if the hype was to be believed, there would be plenty of scenery to view during the marathon.  After all, that was why we made the trip to Vermont, only four weeks after the Hatfield & McCoy Marathon.  This race would be all about taking it slow and taking it all in.

Phish at Saratoga Performing Arts Center, Saratoga Springs, N.Y. - July 3, 2019

On March 6, 2009, when Phish returned to the stage for the first time since 2004, they opened with “Fluffhead”, a song they had not played in almost nine years.  Opening with “Fluffhead” is their musical equivalent of throwing down the gauntlet; a promise, nay, a prideful boast, that says the band is ready to attack its composed material and take you on a special journey.

It is too bad, then, that when they opened with “Fluffhead” on July 3 at SPAC, it fell a bit short of the lofty expectations that it presented.  The “Who Do? We Do!” and “The Chase” sections had some flubby playing by Trey Anastasio, taking me out of the moment. The triumphant “Arrival” ending temporarily lifted my spirits and had me literally leaping, but a thoroughly botched middle section of “Guyute” had me cringing as Jon Fishman somehow ended up being a half-measure ahead of Trey in the fast-jig part.  It was brutal.

Thankfully, they knew to come back with a gimme in the form of “Martian Monster”, an easy riff for heavy jamming.  Course corrected, fast numbers like “Llama” and “Poor Heart” kept spirits high, “Crazy Sometimes” reminded me why it is one of my preferred newer Mike Gordon tunes, and “Steam” brought the slinky groove I love so much. “Silent in the Morning” (preceded by a barely-played “The Horse”) was perfectly placed at the back end of the set, giving way to what was, at first, a surprise in the rare performance of “Sleep”, but made perfect sense as it led into my favorite new multi-part epic, “Drift While You’re Sleeping” to end the set.  It was the first song to be repeated from the Camden run and, boy oh boy, I was still as glad to hear it as I was just days before.

That grouping got me thinking about how the titles of some of the other new tunes by Ghosts of the Forest share similarities with older Phish songs.  Maybe in the future we can see “Ghosts of the Forest > Ghost”, “Friend > Friends”, “About to Run > Run Like an Antelope”, “Halfway Home > Home”, “The Line > In Long Lines”, “Waves > Ruby Waves”, “Brief Time > Liquid Time > Party Time” or “Waiting in the Velvet Sea >  Beneath a Sea of Stars”.

Picking up on the much improved second half of the first set, the band got everyone dancing right away in set two with “No Men in No Man’s Land”, and even though on paper, it might seem like a disappointment to have the ballad “Dirt” in the second slot, it worked nicely and it gave way to the best sequence of the night, as “Plasma” wove its slow-funk groove into “We Are Come to Outlive Our Brains”, only to eventually have “Plasma” briefly teased before a full-on segue into “Tweezer Reprise” that caused the crowd to erupt, with glowsticks flying everywhere.

Somehow, they managed to shift the energy after the enormous “Reprise” into a well-played “The Wedge” that I was really hoping would slip back into “Plasma”, but it was not to be.  No arguments here, though, on the choice “Sneaking Sally Through the Alley” to keep the groove party going.  And while “Run Like an Antelope” is almost always welcome, it was absolutely the weakest “Antelope” jam I had ever heard.  Thankfully, they knew not to end the set there, giving us an excellent “More” that could (and probably should) have ended the set.  Instead, much like the opening of the show, expectations were set high to end it on a glorious note with “Slave to the Traffic Light”.  The jam was big, but I have seen bigger and better.

The show ended with the second shortest encore of the tour – a seven-minute “Rock and Roll” that packed a big punch in the jam and its super-big ending, despite the thoroughly bungled lick from Trey in the middle break of the song.

With the exception of the first half of the second set, this was a show that may be worth a casual listen, but without any expectations that minds will be blown.  Not the best way to end my five-show run, though I still would not trade it for anything.  Summer 2019 was shaping up to be one heck of a tour.  I am excited to hear what is to come at Mohegan Sun, Fenway Park and Alpine Valley.

Phish at Saratoga Performing Arts Center, Saratoga Springs, N.Y. - July 2, 2019

SPAC has a long and fruitful history with Phish as a venue where excellent shows have taken place during each era of the band. The 3.0-era, especially, has seen some multi-night runs that have produced fantastic jams and the venue continues to be a fan favorite. 

Imagine my surprise when my wife, Gloria, and my friend, Marshall, both attending SPAC for the first time, expressed their displeasure with the place. Sure, it has its problems - the stage is not visible from the lawn, the venue can get quite crowded and the entrance and exit usually elicits a feeling of being herded like cattle - but still! This is SPAC, a magical place where great music consistently gets conjured up (their Twitter handle is even @MagicOfSPAC)!

Thank goodness the music made up for the venue's alleged shortcomings. We staked out a spot in the rear of the main lawn near some trees as the party got started with a debut opener from out of nowhere, the old Everly Brothers song, "Cathy's Clown" followed by the "Tweezer Reprise" we thought we would get in Camden - the rare first-set appearance of the latter hearkening back to that wacky time they opened and closed a show with it at SPAC in 2010 (after playing it twice at the previous show).

Things stayed pretty rocking for most of the set, with "Carini", "AC/DC Bag", "Home" (during which they nailed the harmonies) and a total rager of a "Bathtub Gin". "Theme From the Bottom" slowed things down and the usually reliable set-closer "Walls of the Cave" fell flat. But there was levity and laughter, too - when Jon Fishman came in before the modulation for his vocal on "The Moma Dance" and then almost aborted it (making me think for a brief moment that it would end up as its instrumental counterpart, "Black Eyed Katy"), and when Fish and Trey Anastasio continued cracking each other up with a strange "heee-hawww" lick that the former sang and the latter played on guitar (something they had been doing in Camden, too) during an extended "Meat".

The second set really packed a punch right out of the gate with the Kasvot Vaxt song "Cool Amber and Mercury" to open and back-to-back amazeballs jams in "Down With Disease" and "Scents and Subtle Sounds" (the latter including the rarely played intro section). The set then turned from straight-up rocking, with "Twist" and "Wilson", to romping fun with "Scent of a Mule", "Halley's Comet" and the rare oddball "Fuck Your Face" (not a dirty song, as one might suspect, but rather about a guitar that sounds so awesome it will do what the title suggests). A good (but not great) "Harry Hood" closed the set.  Had that been the show closer, it might have been a little disappointing, but we had an encore to come.

The band came back onstage and played "Fee", which I predicted right away would involve Trey Anastasio messing up the lyrics.  Not only was I correct, but the megaphone through which he sings the verses started conking out on him, too, leaving the whole thing a bit of a mess.  But, hey, this is summer 2019, when encores have usually been at least two, sometimes three or four, songs, so there was room for redemption.  And redemption we got with the absolutely gorgeous Ghosts of the Forest song "A Life Beyond the Dream" followed by a banging "First Tube" that got some numbnut in the audience so excited, he jumped onstage, ran past Trey and then around by Jon Fishman's drums before being escorted away.

It was a slamming end to a show that was not perfect, but had some excellent bits that are definitely worth a few repeated listens ("Cathy's Clown", "Bathtub Gin", "Disease" and "Scents", for sure).  Not only that, but it was the fourth show in a row with no repeated songs, which is one of the big reasons I have kept coming back, especially to the magic of SPAC.

Marathon XXII

Two quick turnarounds in the span of seven months?  Why not?

After the Mississippi Gulf Coast Marathon in December, I did the Louisiana Marathon six weeks later, but I was hurting after effectively tying my personal record.

But after the Hatfield & McCoy Marathon last month, I was feeling good (for a change).  I already set my sights on another one – the Mad Marathon on July 7 in Vermont, the 21^st state in my increasingly difficult quest to run a marathon in all 50, each in under four hours, and on a very limited budget.  But I could make this work…

…as long as I did a long run while on Phish tour and got Gloria’s help to drive up to Waitsfield, Vt., backtracking up north two days after driving home from Saratoga Springs (which is essentially halfway to Waitsfield).

It also required truly committing to the “under four hours” rule, accepting that 3:59:59 would be a favorable result.  The Mad Marathon involves an awful lot of hills, ascending from around 600 to 1,600 feet above sea level.  In my previous marathon that involved a thousand-foot incline – the Red Rock Canyon Marathon in Las Vegas, Nev. – I learned my lesson from the one before that (the Park City Marathon in Utah) and took the advice of the fellow runner that suggested, “Start slow, and then back off.” I would have to abide by that philosophy again and not get carried away with myself.

After all, a 9-minute pace would still bring me in under four hours.

Running a sub-four marathon on an extremely challenging course, only four weeks after my last one, the week after a Phish tour, six hours away from home, leaving on Saturday and coming home on race day, then going to work on Monday?

That sounds like a ridiculous plan.  One would have to be mad.

Ah, the Mad Marathon it is.

Phish at BB&T Pavilion, Camden, NJ - June 30, 2019

On Sunday morning, I got up bright and early to run 20 miles from the Cherry Hill Mall, through East Camden and Camden, over the Ben Franklin Bridge into Philadelphia, through downtown Philly, up the steps of the art museum (like Rocky!) and back again. I conked out pretty hard in the 14th mile, struggling to the end, but I hope I can blame that on the hot, sunny morning and the fact that I was tired from dancing all night, rather than a deficiency in my fitness level.

The general consensus about the 6/30 show follows suit with the "never miss a Sunday show" rule (as already evidenced this tour with the previous two Sundays - 6/23 at Merriweather Post Pavilion and 6/16 at Bonnaroo). Most people I spoke to and overheard after the show said it was the best of the three Camden shows.

I disagree. There's no doubt that some great things happened this past Sunday, but for my money, Saturday ruled the Camden weekend.

The main problem was execution. As I noted yesterday, playing the songs well still matters to me and that was not happening during the first set. "The Curtain With" opener was slow, sloppy and lacking any energy whatsoever. Not much better can be said for "Buried Alive", "Camel Walk", "Pebbles and Marbles" and "The Mango Song" (all of which I was admittedly extremely happy to hear, regardless of uninspired playing). That's not to say the set was a total mess. "Fast Enough for You", "Tela" and "Driver" kept the slow stuff pretty, "Reba" showed that they could nail the intricate composed parts if they really try, and "Sample in a Jar" brought some big energy that was lacking elsewhere in the set. The set-closing "David Bowie" was effective enough, but nothing about which to write home.

With the exception of "Pebbles", the first set could have been from 1993, and a comparatively lame one at that.

Thankfully, the second set rebounded in a big way - enough for folks to forget the first half and deem this show a winner.

It is easy to see why with three huge jams - the fifth-ever "Mr. Completely" to open the set, followed by the longest-ever and most varied "Twenty Years Later" jam that was a total contrast to some of the plodding versions of the decade and the trippy psychedelic version from Albany on 10/16/2018, and after a brief excursion into "Big Black Furry Creature From Mars", a tight "Tweezer" that got some more serious jamming in during its relatively short 13 minutes. My favorite 3.0 ballad "Shade" got me all gooey, but "Most Events Aren't Plannned" (pilfered from Page McConnell's band Vida Blue during 2017's Baker's Dozen and played for the fourth time since) got the dancing shoes moving again. Once they got their white-boy reggae out of the way with "Makisupa Policeman", the powerful one-two punch of an excellently executed "Chalk Dust Torture" that stayed grounded yet raging and "Suzy Greenberg" that probably would have sounded even better if Page's piano was higher in the mix (a constant problem throughout the weekend), but was still awesome and rocking.

A three song encore put the button on the Camden run of shows, with the surprise selections of "Punch You in the Eye" and a gorgeous "What's the Use" (which got ever so quiet) before the surprising lack of "Tweezer Reprise", eschewed for one of the better versions of "Julius" I have heard in a while - slow, yes, but swinging hard.

It was a fantastic second set and encore, indeed, making the show well worth the price of admission and making up for the flat first set, but not enough to change my mind that 6/29 was the champion of the Camden weekend.

Phish at BB&T Pavilion, Camden, NJ - June 29, 2019

A “Mike’s Song” show opener is quite rare.  A classic “Mike’s Groove” (“Mike’s Song > I Am Hydrogen > Weekapaug Groove”) is also quite rare.  So a classic “Mike’s Groove” to open the show?  That is how you start things off on the right foot.

Set list statistics are fun, but when it comes down to it, Phish is only getting half the job done by playing rarities that make us get all giddy with excitement.  The songs also have to be played well and, thankfully, the execution was precise – not only on the opening trio of tunes, but the entire first set, which was comprised almost exclusively of classic-era tunes. “Divided Sky” was lovely and perfectly appropriate as sundown approached with an orange-tinged sky; “Guelah Papyrus” was spot on and fun (even the middle “The Asse Festival” section was well-played); “Sparkle” had its usual hoot of an ending; and “Roggae”, though not the best version I have heard, was pretty. “Everything’s Right” was the only 3.0 (modern-era) tune of the set and it is hard not to groove on its funky beat and positive vibe; and the 2.0 (middle-era) “46 Days” closed the set with total blistering rock.  Though the jams were good, this set was not about that. Much like first sets such as 12/30/1994, this was a master class in how to play a killer set without even needing to create jams that people will talk about for the ages.

The second set followed suit, for the most part, with the only song that was more than 10 minutes long being the new Ghost of the Forest song “Ruby Waves” – and quite a jam it was.  The set opening “Blaze On” also stretched out nicely, but “Golden Age”, usually a good launching pad for a long and varied jam never really lifted off.  The Kasvot Vaxt tune “Death Don’t Hurt Very Long”, a vehicle for scorching slow-blues soloing in previous renditions, stopped short at three minutes this time around. “NICU” was standard, “Rift” left a bit to be desired (Trey Anastasio hit a lot of clunkers in the closing section), and the lack of a bigger jam in “Ghost” would have been disappointing if not for the quite-natural segue into a big, loud “Say It to Me S.A.N.T.O.S.” (another KV tune that was great to hear for the first time live) to close the set.  Still, it was the slow section of the set that really moved me – the Ghost of the Forest tune “Beneath a Sea of Stars Part 1” and “Waiting All Night” played back to back provided 13 minutes of prettiness that some fans might find tedious (I am looking at you, Marshall), especially if they want to dance and rage, but I find to be a perfect showcase for the way Trey can paint a beautiful aural picture with his guitar.

With the set ending at around 11 p.m., there was plenty of time for a long encore, and we got one – 20 minutes of Phish’s signature song, “You Enjoy Myself” (excellently played), along with an a cappella “Grind” (hilariously botched) closed out the night on another satisfying note.

Phish at BB&T Pavilion, Camden, NJ - June 28, 2019

It was too bad that Phish had already played "Petrichor" at their previous show because no night would have been better for the lyrics "and the rain came down" than Friday in Camden.

Gloria, Marshall, aLi, and I staked out a spot all the way in the back of the lawn section. Rumor had it that the sound on the lawn would be improved this year, thanks to Phish bringing some of its own speakers to help round out the usually thin sound back there.

But shortly after we got there, the skies opened up and a torrential storm erupted. It was so bad that an announcement was made encouraging everyone on the lawn to go inside the pavilion until it passed. We did so, but by then we were already soaked. The storm eventually did pass, but the show did not start until around 8:45 p.m.

We were wet and uncomfortable (especially my companions in their cotton clothing - whereas I wore my polyester running gear!) but we were ready to rock.

The first set had some well-played tunes with standard jams that were not mind blowing, but certainly effective to keep us dancing and grooving ("Set Your Soul Free", "Halfway to the Moon", "Birds of a Feather", "Wolfman's Brother"). "The Old Home Place" is a favorite of mine and aLi's from way back, "Horn" was nice to hear with Trey Anastasio hitting the ever-modulating solo perfectly, "Timber" is always fun to hear, and the lyrical forgetfulness made "Train Song" funny.

The big Set One highlights, though, were the rarities - my third "Wombat" (played only 17 times since its debut six years ago), which I had not seen since summer of 2014 but still makes me dance like a big ol' dancing fool; and "Strawberry Letter 23", the old Brothers Johnson tune debuted by Phish on Strawberry night of the Baker's Dozen run in 2017 and played only one other time since then - and the new "Drift While You're Sleeping", which debuted two months ago by Trey and Jon Fishman in their other band, Ghost of the Forest. Of all the songs from those shows, I did not expect this multipart, intricately composed and arranged epic to make it into the Phish repertoire (but, duh, that is not exactly strange territory for Phish), and I am glad it did, because those four simple yet profound lines in the gorgeous climax ("We move through stormy weather. We know our days are few. We dream and we struggle together; and love will carry us through") give me chills every time.

The six-song second set contained the big jams, like "No Men in No Man's Land", "Light" and "Mercury" (one of my favorite songs of 3.0, which had me worried at first because of the sloppy solo in the "tomb of the red queen" section). We also got some more newer tunes like the Kasvot Vaxt hit "We Are Come to Outlive Our Brains" and the GOTF song "About to Run" (not my favorite, but still good). The only song that was not from 3.0 in the set was the set-closing, heavy-climaxing (despite Fish missing the cue) "Run Like an Antelope".

"Sleeping Monkey" and a perfect "Quinn the Eskimo" provided an encore that left everyone in my crew (all of whom like different aspects of Phish) happy and satisfied. And ready for more.