*Updated from the 2017 article “When the Forest is on Fire” Feature Photo: Jeff Fisher Where there’s fire, there’s smoke. Where there is a big
As I write this, I’m rounding out Day 8 of a 14-day government-mandated quarantine in a hotel just outside of Auckland, New Zealand. I’ve just moved with my husband and two kids from Summer in Portland, Oregon.
“Mama, listen. It’s so quiet. It’s silent.” I was waiting for my son to take a picture of a cool fungus he found growing on the forest floor, and my daughter, in her typical fashion, flew down the trail like a busy little bird. She stopped about 30 yards ahead and yelled back again, “Mama, it’s silent here!”
Goal-setting. That’s an easy topic for most of us trail runners. The next race, the next adventure run, the next big fat ass* are always at the ready.
Recently, Tracee Ellis-Ross interviewed Michelle Obama, and there was a moment during the interview that gave me pause. More pause and more gratitude. I came
Racing: it’s the big reward at the end of a rigorous training schedule. It’s that date on the calendar, the countdown, the anticipation, the “seeing
Portland, Oregon Within minutes of landing in Portland, you’re likely to see a bumper sticker, or in some cases, huge murals that beg to “Keep
Where there’s fire, there’s smoke. Where there is a big fire, there is smoke for a long time. As I type this, the Eagle Creek
I’ve long said that a change in perspective can do more for my mood and gratitude than any material object. I go to the woods
Are there more benefits to trail-running verses road–running? That is the question. Whether you’re a veteran of the trail, or you’ve just gotten the first