Finishers get a bag of leftover gear from past Negative Split races—shirts, hoodies and other swag—plus raffle tickets for additional prizes or future race entries. On top of that, registration includes a free wristband for entry to the Spokane Great Outdoors Expo right at the finish line, where there are over 70 outdoor recreation exhibitors, live music and entertainment, a full bar and more. For anyone craving a bit of outdoor community during the late-winter lull, the Swag Run hits the spot. Lace up your shoes, bring a few friends and enjoy an easygoing morning run that rewards you with fitness, fun and a pile of quality swag. 

The post Swag Run Mixes Miles and Free Gear  appeared first on Out There Venture.

Cover photo courtesy of Toby Carroll

Last spring, when I got the email for the Wild Woman Marathon, I didn’t immediately hit delete. I hadn’t been back to those soft trails near the base of Mount Adams for years, though I loved that women-only race. Could I pin on a bib after years of not racing and, well, not race? 

I invited a couple of far-flung friends to come for a June weekend of fun. Sara did the full marathon; Ann and I both did the half, where she kicked my butt. This was as expected as it was annoying. (Also, inspiring. At 65, she just ran 4:07 at the Portland Marathon.) Sara had a rough race and kind of hated me for making her fly across the country to do it. 

On the other hand, I had so much fun pushing myself I began looking for more races. I found a 25K on Mount Spokane the next weekend. Just a chance for a nice trail outing, I told myself. I had nothing to prove. I could stroll if I wanted. I thought, It doesn’t matter if women pass you! No age group awards! Nope. Having entered a race, I ran until it hurt.  

In September, Sara came to Spokane. She’d mostly forgiven me, so I got her and my husband Toby to sign up for the Boulevard Race: an easy trot, a community event, and only four miles. “Just a fun run,” I assured. Bibs on, we took off, barely faster than a walk. We had little choice since we picked the “cruise” corral. The crowd trudged along and kept us (me) in check. 

For the first mile, we chatted, enjoying the day. I sped us up as soon as the throng thinned. Still, nice and easy. When we hit the marker for the final mile, I told Sara we were going to pick up the pace for the last half mile. “Um, okay.” About 60 seconds later, I slid in front and said, “Keep your eyes on my back. Pretend a rope is tethering us.” I said, “Relax your shoulders, don’t clench your jaw, pump your arms going uphill.” 

Here’s the thing. My body, like that of a high-strung Arabian horse, seems to have been made to run and somehow takes care of itself (while I do little to maintain it), even as the clock showed I had started to slow down. I loved racing, but for years when I pinned on a bib, I carried a wooden dowel with balloons tied to it that announced the time I’d cross the finish line after 26.2 miles. I found joy as a marathon pace team leader, helping others achieve their goals. While I’ve never cried after racing, I often finished teary-eyed when runners hugged me, thanked me, and claimed (falsely, I knew) they couldn’t have done it without me. 

Even though Sara didn’t care about her time, the pacer in me knew she was capable of more. I couldn’t help myself and pushed her to finish strong. Our last mile clocked in at more than two minutes faster than our first. She was only a little mad. 

Now in my 60s, while I have (mostly) given up racing and pacing, habits of mind are hard to break. Sure, I find joy on family runs with Toby and our mutt, Harry, and I still go out most days for at least a handful of miles. But when I pin on a bib, dormant parts of my brain spring to life. Can’t help it. Like (also elderly) Jessica Rabbit, that’s just the way I’m drawn.  

Rachel Toor lives in Spokane and teaches creative writing at Eastern Washington University. 

The post Once a Racer  appeared first on Out There Venture.

Some runners perk up when winter rolls around, energized by crisp air, fresh snow and quiet streets. Other runners go into self-preservation mode when confronted with cold temperatures and a monotone landscape. Winter urges them to take to their blankets and burrow until spring. 

Whichever camp you fall within, making a winter running bucket list can make the season more enjoyable. As you check off unique-to-winter running experiences, you’ll also build endurance that will improve your running come spring—and you might create a new running tradition you’ll look forward to year after year. 

Sunrise Run 

Many runners thrive on the rosy-hued optimism that comes from running as the sun rises. But unless you’re a natural early bird, the wake-up time can be painful: In June, the sun is up before 5 a.m.! This season, schedule a run to coincide with a winter sunrise, which happens in the 7:00 hour in January and February. You’ll feel rejuvenated; you’ll still finish with your run relatively early; and you’ll get some vitamin D at a time when your stores might be low. 

First Snowfall Run 

Have you ever watched a little kid play in untouched snow? These young explorers show pure joy in exploring a never-before-seen landscape. You can feel some of this same joy this winter! Check the forecast and plan to be the first to blaze your own trail after a snowfall.  

Winter Group Run 

When the weather is unwelcoming, community is key. Plan a run with a friend or meet up with a group like Fleet Feet’s Winter Warriors or any of the area’s many running clubs. (Check out the Bloomsday Road Runners Club calendar at Brrc.net for ideas.) Runs pass by more quickly with company, and the darkness feels far less enveloping when you’re with others. 

Winter Race 

Force yourself to stay active by signing up for a winter race. Whether it’s a half marathon in a sunny state or something local like Spokane’s Partners in Pain, putting a formal running commitment on the calendar gives you something to work toward when motivation is low. With a goal to structure your runs around, it will be easier to stay active. You might discover a new favorite race or find that your winter race PR is faster than you expected. 

Make It an Event 

Friends and family make things more fun. If you are still building your running community, see what’s on the docket with the local running groups mentioned above. They likely have fun winter events on the agenda. Or plan something with your own running buddies, like: 

• A neon night run: Gather a group, plan a safe route and run decked out in neon and glow sticks. 

• Winter trail run: Visit someplace you usually only see in warmer weather. Notice the difference in the scenery, your pace and your state of mind.  

• Family pajama run: Run in your PJs, then get hot chocolate. 

• Galentine’s Day run: In February, gather some ladies who lunch run. After your run, have brunch or a crafternoon (or a “Parks and Recreation” marathon to celebrate the original Galentine’s Day).  

• Progressive run: Kind of like a progressive dinner (appetizers at one house, main course at another, dessert at a third). Do dynamic stretches at one house; run to a second house where you stop for water, fuel and a bathroom break; then run to the final house, where you have a post-run stretch and snack. 

Whatever goes on your winter running bucket list, the season will be more fun if you explore new things, stay active and spend time in community. 

Sarah Hauge is a writer and editor who lives in Spokane with her husband and two children. She is looking forward to her first snowy run this winter and is registered for a couple of spring half marathons.  

The post Winter Running Bucket List  appeared first on Out There Venture.

Cover photo courtesy of Mentz Germishuis

Have you ever run 140 miles across East Africa? Me neither, but I tried. In June, I flew to Tanzania to recon an ultrarunning event called Traverse Tanzania. Red Knot Development, the nonprofit that organizes the event, needed a handful of creatives to test their concept: a 140-mile trail run over five days from Simba Lodge to Lake Natron.  

Prior to the experience, I had only ever run a marathon. That was at the age of 24—I’m now 35. I’ve dabbled in half Ironman triathlon, two-day team running events, and 24-hour races, but nothing of this caliber. But I have a deeply rooted confidence in myself to give things a go. Not necessarily to complete them, but to try. The worst that might happen is failure, and I can live with that. What I can’t live with is not testing myself, not trying. 

From February to June, I slowly ramped up my training, then hopped on a plane from Spokane to Seattle, Seattle to Amsterdam, then on to East Africa landing at Kilimanjaro International Airport.  Another runner, Carey, was flying in from Los Angeles. She sent me a message earlier in the year that read, “Hi!! I’m running [Traverse Tanzania] too. It’s my first ultra and I have no idea what I’m doing so…cheers!” We arrived at the Kilimanjaro airport late at night and made the 1.5-hour drive to Simba Lodge through scattered villages with bonfires ablaze and people hanging in doorways, getting haircuts, playing roadside pool. 

The following morning, we woke at 6 a.m. to seven other participants and a huge buffet breakfast full of crepes, potatoes, beans, watermelon and other goodies. Illuminated in the distance was Mount Meru along with other scattered hills that we would eventually run over and around. Before heading west, however, we would run a 50km (33-mile) loop to the east that peaked at the Shira Plateau on Mount Kilimanjaro. The stage was fittingly titled: Assault on Kili.  

As a tactic when attempting hard things, I tend to reduce the monolithic goal down to bite-sized chunks. In the case of stage one up Kili, five feed zones were set up for us, which made it easy to break the day down: Lemosho Gate at 7.5 miles, Shira 1 at 15.4 miles, Morem Barrier at 17.7 miles, Londorosi Gate at 26.1 miles, Forest entry at 29 miles, Simba Farm finish at 33.2 miles.  

We were given a start time of 6 a.m. rather than the intended 5:30 a.m. due to two buffalo attacks that happened in Mount Kilimanjaro National Park. Apparently attacks were rare, but the race director thought it was a good idea to give everyone a bit more daylight before entering the park. We all looked around at each other, nodding our heads vigorously and agreed. 

The morning of stage one I woke at 4 a.m. to a rooster screaming in the distance. A goat bleated. Other than that, silence. I unzipped my tent and at that moment swore I was the loudest human on earth. As dawn approached, we toed the start line, giddy with energy. We flicked on our headlamps—it was 6 a.m. and would be dark for another half an hour. The horn signaled our departure and we quickly broke into groups. Carey, Chris, Aaron, and myself up front, Ari, Ricardo, Cristy close behind. 

Immediately, I realized that this day would be a formative memory. Unlike shorter, faster paced events, I was able to take in the scenery, hold conversation, and stop to snack and make needed adjustments. Chris and Aaron pulled ahead, leaving Carey and I to chat amongst ourselves. 

You’d think that a long day out would be filled with small talk, but it’s incredible how easily you get into deep conversation while doing something challenging with other people. We went straight to the depths of our being. Why were we here? What challenges have we faced? Which relationships broke us? Made us stronger? Who are we doing this for? Ourselves? Someone else? Who we hope to be? Though we had only met 48 hours ago, it was as if we’d known each other for decades. 

Right then and there, we decided that we’d stay with each other and finish the day together. Run, walk, talk, eat, drink—for 10 hours, that was our day. We got into a flow as we climbed 7,000 feet to the Shira Plateau, saying “mambo” to porters as we passed them and receiving “pole pole” in response. “Pole pole” (pronounced po-lay) in Swahili translates to “slowly slowly.” What it really means however is, “go as slow as possible, trust the process, it works.” 

Spoiler alert: I finished the 33 miles of stage one; ran 20 of 28 miles on day two; 15.8 of 27.2 miles on day three; 13.5 of 29.3 miles on day four; and loaded up on ibuprofen to run the full 28.5 miles on day five. Total accumulation: 110 out of 140 miles.  

Perhaps if I had understood the meaning of “pole pole” better, I would’ve taken it to heart and slowed my pace, made smarter decisions, and been more tactical in order to complete each stage. As it stands, I didn’t fully understand “pole pole” until returning home and reflecting on my trip.  

During Traverse Tanzania, they were just words with a definition but no personal meaning. I see now that it fits into all aspects of life. Move slowly, put one step in front of the other and trust the process. As I look to future goals—athletic, work, creative—I will remind myself, pole pole. Go slowly. Trust the process. It works. And maybe I’ll even return to Africa next year to finish some unsettled business. Pole pole. 

Sammy Berryman is a writer based out of Sandpoint, Idaho. She’s currently training for Lauf Gravel Worlds 300-mile bike race while wondering why she agreed to go.  

The post Miles and Meaning: An Ultrarunning Journey in Tanzania   appeared first on Out There Venture.

How does a river city turn natural beauty into everyday well-being? In Spokane, the answer is the Centennial Trail, a paved corridor that links neighborhoods, parks and river views.  

The route now stretches about 63 miles. It runs roughly 40 miles in Washington, from the Idaho border through Spokane Valley to downtown Spokane, Riverside State Park, and west to the Nine Mile Falls Recreation Area. Another 23 connected miles of trail continue in Idaho, through Post Falls to Higgins Point on Lake Coeur d’Alene. The Washington section, known as the Spokane River Centennial Trail and managed as a Washington State Park, was recognized as a National Recreation Trail in 2010, underscoring its regional significance. 

The vision for the trail took shape in the mid-1980s, when a group of citizens rallied behind the idea of creating a continuous path along the Spokane River. By 1991, their efforts led to the formation of Friends of the Centennial Trail, a nonprofit organization that has served ever since as the Washington portion of the trail’s leading advocate. Working in partnership with Washington State Parks and local municipalities, the group helps secure funding, organizes volunteers and champions trail maintenance and completion. 

Today, millions of trips are logged on the Centennial Trail each year. Families, commuters, cyclists and runners use it daily for transportation and recreation. Beyond its role as a recreational outlet, the trail has been shown to contribute significantly to public health and the regional economy, while strengthening community connections and property values. 

For anyone who enjoys the trail, membership with Friends of the Centennial Trail is one of the most direct ways to give back. Supporting the organization helps ensure this riverside backbone remains accessible and well cared for into the future. 

The post Keeping Spokane’s River Path Thriving  appeared first on Out There Venture.

Cover photo courtesy of Holly Weiler

At the end of sixth grade, all of my middle school’s fall coaches made the classroom rounds, collecting sign-ups for the fall sports that would begin in September when school resumed. The cross-country coach seemed nice, and I had already tried cross-country skiing by borrowing my parents’ skis and exploring the backyard whenever the snow was deep enough, so I put my name down on the list. 

As I recall, my parents managed to keep a straight face as I explained what I signed up for; sixth graders don’t always have a great grasp on which weather occurs in which seasons. I had never heard about a sport dedicated to running long distances over uneven terrain, and while I loved to play outside, I was definitely not a kid who loved running. Secretly, my parents made wagers about how long it would last, with two weeks being the absolute upper limit. 

I outlasted the two weeks by the next three decades, transforming from awkward jogger into serious distance runner, running varsity through college, then continuing to coach the sport in my early adulthood. I quickly developed an aversion to running on pavement, gravitating to trails whenever I could. I spent most of my training time exploring first Riverside State Park with my college teammates and eventually Mount Spokane State Park and Spokane County Parks on my own.  

Eventually, creaky knees started to slow me down, although they didn’t stop me from exploring. My running became mostly limited to shorter outings with the high school team I coached. In my free time, I started to look for ways to stay out longer.  

As I transitioned to hiking more than running, I learned I could stay out all day, covering 20 miles or more, and still not want to go home. I started backpacking with groups of friends, and I also started volunteering on trail maintenance crews, especially those working on trails within the Salmo-Priest Wilderness in northeast Washington, but occasionally with Washington Trails Association crews working on trails closer to Spokane. 

Around 2013 I had what I jokingly refer to as my midlife crisis: I decided to leave my teaching job and enter grad school. The plan was always to return to teaching after completing my master’s degree, but in 2014 a local job with Washington Trails Association opened up. It was to be part-time and seasonal, concluding right around the time I would return to school in the fall, and I was fortunate enough to be hired for the position.  

Now over a decade later that seasonal job is a year-round, permanent position, and I’m still loving it! I help coordinate volunteer trail building and maintenance work throughout eastern Washington, and as part of my job I get to assist land managers in layout and design for both new trails and improvements to existing trails. Public lands started to change my outdoor interests from the time I was a young distance runner, but they eventually changed my complete life trajectory and career path.  

Holly Weiler is The Trailhead columnist at Out There Venture and the Eastern Washington Region Senior Coordinator for Washington Trails Association.  

The post Lands of Exploration   appeared first on Out There Venture.

Cover photo courtesy of Jon Jonckers

Without a doubt, Jackie Van Allen proves that decades of running is one of the greatest investments that one can make in oneself. Whether it’s miles on the road or personal milestones, she keeps going with heart and grit, and her journey is an inspiration to everyone watching from near or far. 

Jackie stands taller than most runners, frequently wears sunglasses and a running hat with a floppy brim, and she beams a wonderful smile whenever any conversation turns toward running. Since she doesn’t harbor any vanity or ego, people listen whenever she speaks. She features a recognizable gait wherever she runs. It’s usually easy to pick her out of a race crowd, because she really loves pink running shoes. Some even argue she has the largest collection of race t-shirts in Spokane. She’s been running with the Spokane Swifts, a women’s running team, for a couple of decades, and she recently completed her 75^th marathon and 80^th half marathon. 

“I didn’t start running until I was 21,” recalls Jackie. “Back in the 1980s there was the Jane Fonda workout VHS tapes. It included limited cardio, but I read in a magazine that Jane trained and ran a 10km fun run. I thought if she could run it, I should be able to run it too. I was living in Dickinson, North Dakota, a rural area with few runners. It was common for people to stop their car and ask if I needed a ride. They must have thought running was my only mode of transportation.” 

After just a few months’ training, Jackie ran her first Bloomsday in 1985. Shortly after, she picked up “Galloway’s Book on Running” by Jeff Galloway, an All-American collegiate runner and a 1972 U.S. Olympic Team member in the 10,000 meters. The book proved to be a pivotal moment, because “he made training for a marathon sound easy! So, I ran my first marathon in 1988.” Like most runners, Jackie enjoyed some fabulous accomplishments in her career, along with some significant heartaches, but she remained deeply committed to running as regularly as possible. She also likes to point out that running with friends creates some of the most powerful relationships. She adores the talking and sharing that unfolds organically after several miles running together, and she still recommends Galloway’s book. 

Bloomsday holds a special place in her heart, but Jackie definitely appreciates a lot of the newer races that have been popping up in recent years. She loves trail runs, especially the super popular Hiawatha Trail Run, hosted by Negative Split, as well as the Sunflower Marathon in Mazama, Wash., and The Rut in Big Sky, Mont. She figures, the greater the challenge, the greater the reward. 

Whenever people learn just how much running is a part of Jackie’s life, they inevitably inquire about her tips and tricks for staying healthy and injury free. She doesn’t have a secret formula, but she returns to the same core elements over and over again. In no particular order, she emphasizes consistency in running routines, she encourages people to rotate shoes frequently to let shoes ‘recover,’ and she definitely believes in the power of massage and foam rolling. For the record, she burns through about six pairs of running shoes per year. Jackie also begins each morning with a fruit milkshake. 

Perhaps the greatest testament to Jackie’s involvement in the local running community stems from other runners in the region. Her friends and peers on the Spokane Swifts team absolutely adore her, and many of them were eager to say things like “she’s an inspiration,” “she’s the perfect mentor,” and “the world needs more people like Jackie.” Swift teammate Annelie Stockton says, “She is always so kind and has a very positive attitude. You can’t help but feel happy around her.” Swift teammate Heather LeFriec says, “I call her Queen Jackie! Her longevity as a marathon and ultramarathon runner is like no female we’ve ever known. She is someone I’ve known and looked up to for over 25 years. She’s always brought strength and consistency in everything she does, running and personally.” 

Jackie does most of her running in the cool and peaceful mornings because “you encounter fewer scheduling issues.” Since she started tracking her mileage in 1988, she recently surpassed 64,000 miles, and she is on pace to surpass 65,000 miles by the end of the year. Even though she doesn’t run every single day, she still averages around 45 miles per week. When asked what’s the one thing you wish more people knew about running, Jackie responded, “Give running a chance. The first three months are tough, and you may wonder, how could this ever be fun? But it will be fun, just be patient!” 

A quick search on the Out There Venture website brings up over 200 articles written by Jon Jonckers. He’s been a constant contributor since 2006, and he still enjoys sharing his love for the region with anyone willing to listen. 

The post The Queen of Spokane Running: Jackie Van Allen  appeared first on Out There Venture.

If you’re a runner, you’ve certainly heard the refrain of the doubters. There’s one thing they are absolutely certain will happen to you: “You’ll destroy your knees.” 

This is just one of the pervasive myths about running, and there are many others we tell ourselves. As with other lore, there’s often a kernel of truth in there—but the more nuanced picture leads to greater understanding. Here are a few common running myths, debunked.  

“Running is bad for your knees.” 

Short answer: Not true. 

Nuanced answer: Running does not cause knee arthritis. In fact, studies show running can lower the risk of developing joint problems. Running also significantly improves overall health, benefiting the cardiovascular, respiratory, and musculoskeletal systems and decreasing the risk of everything from heart disease to osteoporosis and contributes to improved sleep and mood. That being said, damage to knees and other joints can result from running despite nagging injuries, resting inadequately, or overtraining. Ideally, you should increase your running volume by no more than 10 percent weekly. 

You need a certain body type to run. 

Short answer: Nope. 

Nuanced answer: Among competitive athletes, there are trends; who hasn’t marveled at the quads of an Olympic sprinter? Still, there are variations even among those elite pockets of the population. Zoom out a little further, and you’ll see an even more vast array of shapes and sizes. Bloomsday finisher photos prove that runners come in all heights, weights, and body compositions. Regardless of body type, you should run appropriately to your level of fitness. To feel your best and avoid injury, it’s always a good idea to balance running with strength training, mobility work, and active stretching. 

You’re not a real runner if you take walk breaks (or aren’t “fast,” or don’t do races, or…) 

Short answer: Wrong. 

Nuanced answer: You’re a runner if you run. That’s it! It doesn’t matter if you prefer a 15-minute mile pace, a 6-minute pace, or a run-walk mix. Competitive runners often do workouts that combine high-intensity intervals with low-intensity jogging or walking recovery. It’s an effective way to train. Other runners build up stamina by alternating running and walking intervals. You certainly don’t have to run fast to be a runner—and there are many benefits to long, slow distance. The goal is to run in a way that brings you joy and benefits your life and goals. 

The right shoes will prevent injury. 

Short answer: Shoes aren’t miracle workers. 

Nuanced answer: The right shoes can help, but your musculature plays the biggest role in injury prevention, explains Trey Nichols, a physical therapist and founder of NW Movement Co. “Shoes are great,” he explains. “I’ve seen issues where I’ve attributed a lot of benefit to getting a different pair of shoes. But what makes the biggest difference is strength.” 

Strong feet and ankles are the foundation of injury prevention. One of the best ways to build that strength, Nichols says, is to go barefoot. This might mean walking around the house barefoot or going barefoot while you cross-train. Barefoot training engages the foot and ankle musculature, improving stability and strength throughout the entire body. If you wanted to strengthen your back, you wouldn’t always wear a back brace. Similarly, wearing shoes all the time can limit foot and ankle strength development. “I’ve worked with a lot of patients who after becoming more aware of their feet and getting their feet stronger have unlocked their superpower,” Nichols says.  

At the same time, wearing shoes that are right for your physiology and training goals is certainly beneficial. Visiting a running store like Fleet Feet for a gait analysis and fitting is a good practice for any runner. 

Sarah Hauge is a writer and editor who lives in Spokane with her husband and two children. She’s looking forward to running a half marathon or two this fall. 

The post Running Myths Debunked: What Every Runner Should Know appeared first on Out There Venture.

By Rachel Toor 

The aging train goes in one direction. We all know that. Still, most of us—especially those who pride ourselves on physical prowess—are like Cleopatra: queens of denial. Nothing makes you look old like saying you’re old. 

That’s why I’m excited to be doing a new column for this publication, which I’ve read since moving to Spokane in 2006. I want to use this space to explore what it means to be a person at a more mature advanced stage of life who is still trying to run up that hill. Sometimes, however, that hill will be more metaphorical than geographical. 

At 63, after spending more than half my life as a fairly decent runner, I don’t see myself as over the hill. This summer, after taking a COVID-inspired break from racing, I once again pinned on bib numbers to hit some trail half-marathons. I remembered it was a big part of my identity: I’ve authored a few books about running, written for nearly every national running magazine, been sent to cover marathons in Singapore, Thailand, and Israel, and survived a brutal 100-mile, five-day stage race in the Himalayas. 

I tell myself I’m still doing the Kate Bush thing: runnin’ up that hill. I’m slower, sure. I take walk breaks. Sometimes—gasp—I even stop to enjoy the view and sniff the flowers. I try not to measure myself against my former self and fail at that regularly. But even though it’s an urban myth that sharks die if they stop moving, I know for a fact that I’m not ready to turn to Netflix-and-chill full time. (Though a little Netflix, a little chill, is essential.) 

As with most athletic feats, the mind is the muscle that matters most. I’m trying to train mine to accept the things I cannot change (the aging train) and figure out how to live in my current reality. I suspect I’m not alone in this. 

Many elders do the “organ recital,” talking endlessly about the things in our bodies that are breaking down. I like to listen in because it’s good to know what might be in store before you have to figure out on your own that when the inevitable happens and you need drugstore reading glasses to see a menu, there are options like monovision—a single contact lens that allows one eye to devote itself to things up close. 

And because my running partners tend to be 20 or 30 years younger, I try to remember I can’t keep up—and instead be grateful they slow their pace for the privilege of receiving my endless stream of wisdom nattering. 

Committing to writing about being active will give me a smidgen of accountability. For most of my adult life, I’ve been able to get away with doing no exercise. Which is to say, I have always seen running as a way to have good thinking time, to be social, to get introvert recharging, to push myself to find my limits. Never as exercise. I have never been a gym rat and hate water more than most cats. (The ocean, lakes, rivers: totally lost on me.) 

But, I remind myself, the aging train has left the station. Recently, I texted my best friend a sentence that shocked us both: “I wore my Birkenstocks to Pilates.” I have hated those German tourist sandals since 1976. But my feet, they’re failing me. The T-Rex body of a runner doesn’t age well when schlepping bags of dog food. Something must be done. Even if that means being tortured on a rack. 

So, I invite you to share my journey as I keep trying to run up that hill. 

Rachel Toor teaches creative writing at Eastern Washington University. She lives in Spokane with her (hot younger) husband Toby and her (brilliant) dog Harry. 

The post Riding the Aging Train: Rachel Toor on Running, Aging, and Staying Active appeared first on Out There Venture.