(Please read the Week 1 post if you’re wondering what this post is all about.)

I intended to post a weekly training recap on Sunday or Monday of each week, and already I’m behind. Blame it on the transition back to home and moving back into our house. Routines get put on hold when dozens of boxes await unpacking, furniture needs moving, Internet and phone don’t function and the house doesn’t feel at all like a home (yet). Here, belatedly, is the journal of the previous week. (more…)

In four months, on October 9, I’m going to become an ultrarunner when I attempt to run 50 miles.

Me on my 41st birthday last month, running a 40K through mountains above Tuscany.

There, I said it! I wasn’t going to. I wasn’t going to graduate to that distance, and I wasn’t going to turn this blog into a personal training log — the kind of painfully dull and obsessive narrative that chronicles miles run, blisters taped and gels digested. But now I’m doing it. Here’s why I’m going public with my plan and will track the progress here: (more…)

Running along the coastal trail in the Cinque Terre region of Italy.

A year ago, I wrote about running through my hometown on my 40th birthday. Now, having recently celebrated my 41st birthday by running, hiking and eating my way through a 40K in the mountains of Tuscany, I’m reflecting on how running affected our round-the-world travel and how travel influenced my running.

So much changed in one year: We left our home, Morgan left his job and our family experienced an entirely different lifestyle as we traveled the globe. Our trip is drawing to an end, with just a few weeks until we’re back in California. There are so many things about this past year I will miss, but running in far-flung destinations is near the top of the list (behind family togetherness and a simpler, less scheduled lifestyle). Week after week, in whatever place we found ourselves, running was a friend and travel guide, providing familiarity and pointing me in new places to explore. (more…)

I rolled out of bed and signed up for my first-ever triathlon while wearing these clothes that I had slept in, moments before the event began.

I never imagined I would commit to my first triathlon moments before the event began, while I was still groggy from sleep and wearing my pajamas. But that’s what happened when Morgan, the kids and I recently found ourselves on the edge of a lake in a eucalyptus forest north of Melbourne, in a community called Daylesford, to compete in a trail race.

We arrived at the Jubilee Lake Holiday Park and settled into a tiny rental cabin that was like a mobile home mounted on blocks. The park, on the edge of a state forest, was the site of a “Dirt Fest” February 20 – 21 put on by an outfit called In 2 Adventure.

The trail race was only a 10K, but it was a good enough excuse for us to go there — that, plus the fact the event promised a kids’ run and other family fun, all in a big recreational area where kids could run wild while us grown-ups sat around campervans and knocked back cold ones. (Our travel budget is all about cheap thrills these days.) (more…)

A Conversation 38,000 Feet Up With The Two-Time Kona Ironman World Champ

I’m phobic about flying and didn’t want to be squeezed between strangers on the 14-hour flight from Sydney to LAX, so I chose a seat in the rear of the Qantas 747 where I’d have only one person at my side.  Whose elbows would I bump as we ate over our trays, whose knees would I climb over to get from my window seat to the aisle? From seat 70K, I guardedly watched the flow of humanity funnel through the Economy section. Would it be Mr. No-Neck with the upper body spilling out of a tank top that pictured an airbrushed Harley, or the gray-haired lady wearing an inflatable pillow like a neck brace and dangling shopping bags like ornaments? Please no, please no, I silently prayed.

And then I saw him standing patiently behind a turban-wearing man and sari-wearing woman who were taking an inordinately long time to stuff the overhead bin. I blinked, and there he was: a perfect specimen, thirtysomething, with dark hair, chiseled cheekbones and a tight black polo shirt that revealed sculpted arms. He looked unperturbed by the people blocking his way and seemed unaware that he turned heads like Heidi Klum in a hardware store.

He looked at the empty seat next to me, then right at me, and then smiled. Yes, thank you, thank you, I silently prayed again. (more…)

A stretch of the Coast Track in Abel Tasman National Park, New Zealand, where Morgan and I ran last week.

Where will running take you in 2010? I’m picking up from the closing line in the last post, “May you go new places and envision new possibilities in the year ahead.”

This week, Morgan and I will take a detour to a wild corner of New Zealand’s West Coast for a 26K trail event, and next month we’ll head toward the bush by Melbourne for the sake of another trail race. We’re planning our Italy itinerary by looking at race websites as much as Lonely Planet, and we’re already thinking about where we can go to run during the week in August when both kids will be at sleep-away camp.

An interviewer for the website RunAbroad.com recently asked me, “One more reason to go running?” and I replied, “Running inspires and enhances travel. I can think of no better way to get to know a stretch of countryside or city than running through it, or better yet, participating in a race at a destination. When I think of trips I took over the past year or so with my family, I always visualize what I saw during my runs.” (I was flattered to be profiled by this cool website, which profiles races around the globe; you can read the whole interview here.)

I’d like to encourage all of you who gaze at your calendars in January and pencil in running goals and races for the year to find a running event that transports you to a completely different environment. Run it not necessarily for time but as a tourist, soaking up all the sights and sensations, and you may have an experience like I did at the Buenos Aires Marathon.

New Zealand is a dream destination for runners. This country has a network of well-maintained trails known as Great Walks that traverse the visually stunning glaciers, forests and beaches that New Zealand is famous for. My new friend Paul Charteris, an ultrarunner we ran with on the North Island, wrote an excellent overview of NZ’s running scene for IRunFar.com, and he also has loads of info on where to run on his blog, TrailruNZ.

Obviously travel and adventure are on my mind — not just the destinations and running events themselves, but why and how to make going new places and trying new things a top priority. I feel incredibly fortunate to discover firsthand how long-term family travel to unfamiliar, not-always-comfortable destinations can enhance personal growth, relationships and pure happiness in countless ways, which is a topic I touch on in our Away Together blog and hope to explore more this year. For that reason, I’d really appreciate hearing from others in the comment field below about where you’d like to run and explore in the not-too-distant future and why — and what’s your plan for going there, or what stands in your way.

I anticipate answers along the lines of “life gets in the way of living” — i.e. work and family commitments and/or lack of money keep you from going where you want to go and doing what you dream of doing. If that’s the case for you, then do you see a way around?

We had a whole list of reasons why we couldn’t and shouldn’t take the long trip we’re on, but we did it anyway. Running gave us a lot of the motivation and nerve we needed to get here.

So I’ll repeat the question because I’m really curious to know: Where will running take you?

New Zealand's trails (known as tracks) have taken us up mountains and down to the coast. This run was on the coast in the North Island's Bay of Plenty region.

Windy Point on the Dun Mountain Track above Nelson, New Zealand, lived up to its name and almost blew Morgan's hat away. This was on January 1, when we maintained our tradition of running up a mountain to start the new year.

“Two things in life that I have experienced moderate success at, and that I love when they’re going well, are writing and running. Neither is going very well at the moment. This blog represents my commitment to get both going again. Writing and running have been on hold due to inaction and injury. … I’m feeling stupid and stiff, wondering how I’ll ever regain a sense of flow at the keyboard or striding out on the trail.”

Morgan and me running last week on the North Island of New Zealand. A year ago, I never imagined we'd end the year here!

I wrote those lines in my first-ever blog post in August 2008 while nursing a broken foot and hoping 2009 would be a comeback year.

I got the comeback I wished for and more, but what I’m most proud and grateful for is I headed off in completely new and unforeseen directions. Never, ever would I have imagined I would write this year-end post from New Zealand, having embarked with my family on a round-the-world journey after six months of reaching new personal bests as a runner. Just as I never, ever would have imagined that when I started jogging 15 years ago I would actually stick with it to the point where I could call myself “a runner.”

I’m not writing this to gloat. I’m here to remind myself and others that life takes entirely unexpected turns, and being open to change and thinking that what seems impossible might actually be possible can take you to places you thought only other people, not you, could go. (more…)

Morgan and me at the start of the Nov. 14 Salomon K42 in Villa La Angostura.

Two hours into the Salomon K42 trail marathon in Patagonia while approaching the halfway mark, the course hit a low point that coincided with my own. After the thrill of sprinting down a forested single track as slick and curving as a luge course, I hit a flat stretch that briefly intersects with a main road just a quarter mile from our rented cabaña in this Argentina ski town called Villa La Angostura. My frustration with a problem involving my shoes was telling me to call it quits and chalk up the effort as a solid half-marathon. I planned to peel off the course, walk back to the cabaña, get out of those dang shoes and hug my kids. Then we would all head to the finish line to cheer on Morgan, who was on the course somewhere behind me. Yes, that’s what I’d do. It seemed so reasonable.

Then, in a split second I’ll never regret, I changed my mind. (more…)

A peaceful run last week overlooking Lago Nahuel Huapi in the Patagonia lake district of Argentina.

Staying safe while running is always an issue, but as Morgan and I find ourselves running in some rather far-flung places during our year abroad, safety has become a top concern. Two days ago, for instance, we left the kids in our cabaña and went to run a remote dirt road above the town of Bariloche, Argentina, in the Andean range of Patagonia. Our picture-perfect run suddenly turned threatening, and tense moments ensued. (more…)

Morgan, the kids and I arrived in Buenos Aires last Tuesday and spent the first five days learning our way around, struggling with Spanish, and adjusting to lunch at 3 p.m. and dinner at 10. (You can read about our travels on our other blog.) We also found ourselves preparing for a marathon, since the Buenos Aires Marathon was Sunday, October 11.

At the race expo, trying to get used to the concept of running 42K or 21K (rather than 26.2 or 13.1 miles).

Morgan and I approached the race day with few expectations and no goals beyond wanting to finish and see the city. Morgan broke his toe about six weeks ago and didn’t run a step for more than a month, so he was happy to do any running again. He opted for the half marathon (21K). As for me, my weekly mileage took a nosedive about a month ago. I’ve slowed so much that when I tried to “sprint” the other day, I sped up only to my regular marathon pace.

Normally I take extra care during a pre-marathon week to eat healthy, cut out alcohol, stay off my feet and go on short runs just to loosen up and practice pacing. Not last week! We walked around the city until our feet ached, and we ate steak and empanadas daily, washed down with vino tinto and cerveza. To compensate for the gastronomic indulgence and to regulate our whacked-out systems, we took turns venturing out on a few solo runs that were on balance more stressful than stress relieving — constantly stopping at lights, dodging taxis that play chicken with pedestrians, and trying not to trip on all the chunks of broken sidewalks. Now and then, in the back of my mind, I’d think, I’m running a marathon Sunday? For real? ¡Ay, caramba — lo que sea! (“whatever!“) (more…)