That’s sometimes what I think I should call this blog. For every good week where I can run up to 10 or even 20 miles have been down weeks where I’m stuck on a treadmill, bike, or something else–where when I retrain it feels like I’m hobbling along rather than running. From the get-go, when…
On the trail-front, I have had to take a break yet again due to a swollen ankle that is not getting better. I hobbled around on it last week, and thought that if it was not better by the Victoria Day weekend I would make a doctor’s appointment, which I have done–for tomorrow. I think…
Our camping two weekends ago near Saltery Bay was full of sun and rain, waves and wind, endless coasting birds, hiking into wilderness, rushing waterfalls, isolation, running, and admiring the country north of Gibsons, mostly First Nations territories peppered with local foods and artisan goods. After two ferry rides, we arrived at a campsite just…
Sometimes I miss the desert. I recall raw days full of clarity, where clouds shadowed hills with bold shapes moving ever so slowly over the hot landscape below. I remember endless, big stars hanging in a black night and how the hot Santa Ana winds made everything feel so alive and moving. I remember stepping…
