I’d love to ignore perimenopause, but it doesn’t work that way in the human body. It starts as early as 35, setting us on a strange trajectory of ebbing and flowing physiological states. Perimenopause overlaps with an established monthly flux, with little to guide us except the experience of other people who have gone through what we’re going through.
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.
*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!”
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