I need to sort out thoughts about the coming year and beyond, and that’s another reason I’m looking forward to this 24-hour hamster-wheel ultra on new year’s eve—it’ll be a retreat of sorts.
Like the “super moon,” the course seemed unusually brilliant and exaggerated in its beauty. Little did I know on that blissful, escapist day that disaster would strike 36 hours later.
I wrote this post four years ago, in the fall of 2013, and am updating it since I revisited this cool urban run last week. Now that the entrance to Yerba Buena Island is open and links to Treasure Island, you can loop around there for a longer run!
A roundup of nifty products I discovered and used this year to better enjoy running and the outdoors.
I need to let go of longing for a supposedly better version of myself from years ago. Remember and celebrate all the things that this 2017 version of me did that the 2007 person couldn’t fathom.
The summer, I read about the West to deepen my understanding of Colorado, California and states in between—their history, culture, politics and myriad pressures. Rest assured, these books are good reads.
I spent ten months coaching two clients for the Grand to Grand Ultra and the Atacama Crossing. Here’s the outline of their training plans, and their stories of what the events were like, to show how to meet the myriad challenges of an ultra-long stage race—and, perhaps, to inspire your new year’s goals.
After several mornings in a row under the covers with that novel, it hit me: This is what post-100-mile-ultra, midlife, empty-nesting transition feels like.
I hated the logic that I wanted to cover 100 miles so I could be done with 100 miles because I didn’t actually want to do the full 100 miles. Ugh, none of it made any sense.
The person who trained assiduously, whose every workout had a purpose and goal attained, who meticulously planned every piece of gear—that seems like another person, and she’s not here now.