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When I first started writing here on Substack eight years ago, there weren’t that many of us. A few people writing about tech and business and politics, but that was mainly it. So, one of the really cool things to see is how much it has grown since then, bringing in people of all walks of life and all areas of interest.

Especially fun has been the growth of running-focused newsletters here, everyone from to to to — all of whom I’ve gotten to know and chat with, and consider friends today.

That’s why I’m really excited to introduce you to , a running coach and (very!) accomplished runner whose work and writing I’ve gotten to know and love over this summer, and who has been an inspiration to me as I get my running back in gear.

She writes a newsletter worth checking out, in which she shares what motivates her as well as her story of how she got here. I know you’ll love it too! — Terrell

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So, let’s hear a little bit about you! Who are you, your age (if you’d like to share), where you’re from, what you do, etc.

I’m Abby Heffern. I’m 31 years old and I’ve lived in South Florida for the past eleven years, but I’m originally from New Jersey. At the end of this year, I’m planning to move to Central Florida to be closer to better trails and a larger trail running community!

I’m a trail runner, 14-time ultramarathoner, and online running and strength coach through my own coaching business, Wild Dog Athletics.

Before taking my coaching fully online, I ran Wild Dog Athletics as a brick-and-mortar personal training gym for almost five years, where I worked with runners in person on both their running and strength training.

What does your running routine look like? How many times a week, and how far do you run?

I run five days a week, and how far I run depends on what race I have coming up! With my next race being a 50K in November, I’m at about 40 to 45 miles per week right now, with a three-hour long run on the weekends. I also strength train three days a week.

But my running routine hasn’t always looked that way! I’ve been ultrarunning for seven years, and when I first started, I was only running two to three days a week.

As I’ve gotten stronger and fitter — and fallen more and more in love with running — I’ve slowly increased how often I run, how long my long runs are, and my weekly mileage.

I mean, think about it: it took me seven years to go from running 2 to 3 days a week to five! Training in a way that’s sustainable and allows me to stay healthy and excited has always been my number one priority.

Were you an athletic kid growing up? What are your early memories of what fitness and health were about?

I was an athletic kid! I’ve always loved sports. I ran track and cross country, but mostly just for fun on the side of my main sport, which was equestrian/show jumping.

I was a competitive equestrian for almost 20 years and worked professionally managing barns and riding horses for other people through college. It was my life, my calling, and my biggest passion until I graduated from college and started to feel disillusioned by the politics of the sport and the financial demands of pursuing it professionally.

I decided to walk away, which is when I started leaning more into running as an outlet for my competitive drive.

I credit my time with horses for so much of what I now bring to trail and ultrarunning: my work ethic, resiliency, competitiveness, love for monotony and grunt work, for the outdoors, and for moving freely and wildly over the earth.

How did you first get into running? Was there something that inspired you — like a performance at the Olympics, for example, or a runner you discovered by watching them on social media or TV? Or was there someone in your own life who inspired you to think, ‘maybe I can do this?’

While I’ve been running since I started track and cross country in middle school, I didn’t really get into it until I graduated from college and was looking for something to fill the void left by quitting competitive show jumping.

Even when I wasn’t racing and was still mostly focused on horses, I would run after long, exhausting days at the barn. It was how I decompressed, managed stress, re-grounded myself, and got some time alone with my thoughts to work through things.

So naturally, when I found myself in an identity crisis after walking away from a passion I’d had for 20 years, running was the first thing I leaned on. It didn’t just give me an outlet for my competitive drive — it also helped me cope with the disappointment and frustration of my riding career not turning out the way I’d dreamed.

I started with a few 5Ks here and there. Then it was 10Ks, half marathons, and eventually marathons. While I was training for marathons, I stumbled across a seven-mile trail race online and thought it looked like a fun way to switch up all the road running.

I expected it to be a one-time thing. Instead, I fell in love with the trail and got completely hooked on trail running.

At that race, I also met runners doing the 50- and 100-mile distances, which was my first introduction to ultrarunning. Seeing how strong, positive, and determined those runners were made me want to be that way too.

I’d say the runners I met at that first seven-mile trail race were some of my biggest inspirations early on. So much so that I came back the very next year and ran the 50-mile distance — my first ultra.

That was seven years ago, and I’ve been running ultras ever since.

How has your interest in running evolved since then? Do you run farther, or faster now?

I’ve always felt drawn to running farther. Ever since I ran my first 50-miler, my goal was to eventually run 100 miles, which I finally did this past January. So while that’s always been the goal and the direction I’ve been headed, I’d say my “why” has evolved.

When I first started ultrarunning, I was pretty driven by my ego. I loved running, but I also really liked being able to call myself an ultrarunner and having progress to “show,” whether that meant running faster or running farther.

I think that’s just part of being in your early twenties, too. It’s easy to get caught up in how you’re being perceived by other people and there’s this feeling that everyone’s in a race to be as successful as possible, as quickly as possible.

And while I’m still very competitive and have specific goals to keep running farther and faster, that’s not why I run every day anymore.

I run because I genuinely love to run. It feels like what I’m supposed to be doing. Like I’m fulfilling something deep within myself. It connects me to who I am in a really powerful way.

It’s also how I feel connected to the outdoors. Growing up spending all day at the barn and around horses, I don’t miss the equestrian sport itself, but I do miss being at the barn and around animals all day. There was something so simple about that way of life.

When I run, I get to reconnect with that simplicity. Moving my body over the earth, being in the quiet, and just being present and free.

What do you balance your running with? Do you have a family to take care of? Kids, parents or other relatives or loved ones? If so, how do you balance all of it and still make time to run/care for yourself?

I mainly balance running with work, which has gotten a lot easier now that I coach online.

When I had my gym, it was a much harder balance to strike. Two years in, I had built a full book of clients and was coaching in person, on my feet, for 10 hours a day. On top of that, I was managing all of the backend work when I wasn’t coaching because I had no staff, it was just me.

At the time, I only had time to run 3 to 4 days a week max, with two of those runs happening at 5AM during the week, and the other 1 or 2 runs happening on the weekend.

But beyond the hours, I’d say the hardest part was the energy drain and mental load that came with owning a gym. My landlord would surprise me with a $1,000 invoice. My AC would break. I felt like I was constantly putting out fires while still showing up positive, energetic, and happy for my clients all week long, never letting anyone see the stress and labor happening behind the scenes.

That left very little energy for running — or for much of a personal life.

It was incredibly hard to fit running in during those years, but I also knew how important it was that I did. Running was the one thing that was truly mine. It was the time when I wasn’t answering client texts, picking up my landlord’s calls, or checking my email to see what urgent problem was waiting for me next.

It wasn’t easy to run at 5:00 a.m. twice a week or get a long run in on the weekend when all I wanted to do was sleep in. But I made it work because running was also what kept me grounded, sane, and connected to the fact that I was a human outside of my career.

The key during that time was being brutally honest about what I could handle. I had goals of running 100 miles, and I wanted so badly to be running more than 3 to 4 days a week. But if I had tried to force myself to run 5 to 6 days, I would have been setting myself up for failure.

Being realistic about what I could do — and then being really consistent with that — worked so much better than trying to do more than I could handle, falling off, getting discouraged, and feeling like I had to start over every week.

That’s how I stayed consistent, kept running, and continued training for big races through some of the busiest years of my career.

In the age of AI, when runners can create training plans with a few keystrokes, how are you approaching/changing the way you coach and train the runners you work with?

AI hasn’t changed how I coach, because I’ve always focused on a deeply personal, 1-to-1 style of coaching that goes beyond writing a training plan.

That started when I owned my gym and worked face-to-face with people all day, and it’s something I’ve intentionally brought into coaching online. I text with my clients weekly and sometimes daily, get on calls with them every month, and help them not only adjust and execute their training, but navigate the doubt, frustration, and emotions that come with chasing a big goal.

I’m actually really proud to be doing that in the age of AI, when so much of life is losing its humanness. I want to keep the experience of running fully human.

I coach beginner half marathon, marathon, ultra, and trail runners who also have really busy lives. They’re working 50-hour weeks, sitting in back-to-back meetings until 8 p.m., or traveling every other week. Some have tried AI-generated plans and found they didn’t work because a plan can’t always account for what happens when life gets exceptionally chaotic or sh*t hits the fan.

And while adjusting plans daily when unexpected things come up is part of what I do and how I help my runners stay on track, sometimes what a runner needs isn’t just an adjustment to their plan. They need someone who knows what they’ve been through, understands how hard they’re trying, and can remind them when they’re doubting themselves: “You’re doing enough. You can do this. I believe in you.”

I don’t just coach the plan. I coach the runner — the person. I’m passionate about running as a vehicle for growing as a person, building character, and becoming stronger and more resilient than you realized you could be.

I coach because I’m passionate about running, but I’m even more passionate about serving people, pouring into people, and loving people.

I’d love to see AI try to do that the way only a human being can.

Is there anything you’re especially proud of that you can point to your running and say, ‘this helped me achieve ______’?

I’m really proud that, no matter what I was going through — the busy years at the gym, races that didn’t go my way, the normal self-doubt and questioning, and wondering why I was trying so hard when it maybe would have been “easier” to stop chasing big goals — I never gave up.

For seven years, I’ve run consistently. What that looked like changed depending on the season of life I was in. There were years when I ran 2 to 3 days a week and barely did long runs, and there are years like now when I’m running five days a week and doing a long run every weekend. But I’ve never stopped. Running has always stayed part of my week and part of my life.

And that, more than anything, is how I’ve gone from running my first 5K to finishing ultras from 50K to 100 miles. Not because my mileage has always been impressive, or because I do crazy workouts, or because I’m exceptionally fast or talented. I’ve just kept showing up — and I’ve learned to love running more and more along the way.

I recently heard someone on a podcast call himself a “perennial bloomer,” and I haven’t stopped thinking about it.

I’m a perennial bloomer.

I may not be the most impressive runner with the most impressive results, but I keep coming back year after year. And because I keep coming back, I keep growing. I keep getting better. I keep finding out what else I’m capable of.

I think that’s what I’m most proud of.

What have you learned about yourself from your running journey? Is there anything that’s changed about you since you started?

I’ve changed completely since I started. When I ran my first 50-miler seven years ago, I had no idea what I was in for or how hard it was going to be. I’d never run more than a marathon and figured if I could run 26.2 miles, I could run 50, right?

I finished, but I cried and complained through most of the second half. I had no concept yet of what it meant to work on mental strength and toughness.

It was one of those finishes where everyone was telling me how proud I should be, but I didn’t feel as happy as I thought I would. I was disappointed in how I’d handled myself when things got hard.

I had gotten into ultrarunning because I was inspired by the 50- and 100-mile runners I met at my first trail race. They were positive, strong, and determined. At my first ultra, I hadn’t been any of those things. That race held up a mirror to who I was when things got tough, and I wasn’t happy with what I saw.

I remember promising myself I never wanted to act like that at a race again. No matter how future races went, I wanted to be able to stay strong, positive, and determined when things got hard.

Over the 13 ultras that followed, I treated every difficult moment as an opportunity to keep that promise. I learned that I couldn’t always control how my race was going, but I could control who I chose to be while it was happening.

That became more important to me than any finish time or place on the leaderboard. I wanted to cross every finish line knowing that, regardless of the result, I was proud of how I handled myself that day.

People remark on my mental strength at ultras now, and I think it’s important to share that I wasn’t always this way. I became this way by putting myself in hard situations over and over again and choosing, little by little, to respond differently.

Where would you like to go with your running? Is there anything special you’d like to achieve — like, say, running all six World Marathon Majors, or running an ultra?

I want to go so many places with my running! I’d love to keep getting faster at the 100-mile distance, and I definitely want to run a 200-miler one day.

I’d also love to section-run the entire Florida Trail, a 1,500-mile National Scenic Trail that passes through some of the most stunning and diverse landscapes in Florida. And once I’ve experienced the whole thing in sections, maybe I’ll try to run it continuously!

What keeps you going? Especially if you’ve been running for a while — do you ever get bored with it? How do you find new things to motivate you, to keep you going?

Because running has become part of how I live a full life and express myself, I really don’t get bored with it. I feel incredibly lucky to run five days a week, especially because I used to not have time to run that much.

Now that I coach online, I can also spend so much more time on trails. When I owned my gym, I did a lot of my running on the treadmill or roads because they were more efficient and accessible. Now I get to build my life around trail running and being outside, and I’m genuinely grateful for that.

That doesn’t mean I leap out of bed stoked every morning when my alarm goes off at 6:00 a.m. I’ve just learned not to let temporary feelings dictate what I do.

I might wake up tired and grumpy, but I know those feelings will pass. So I get up anyway and do the thing I’ve done for years, knowing I’ll probably experience another 50 thoughts, feelings, and emotions before my morning run is even over. That’s just part of being human and none of it has to mean anything unless I give it meaning.

Look back at yourself when you were a kid, maybe say 10 years old. Remember how you felt, what you thought, especially what you thought you were capable of back then. If you could talk to that kid now, what would you say?

I talk to that kid every week, if not every day! Because that kid was a dreamer. She was bold and courageous and looked at life like there were no limits and anything was possible. She assumed she was capable of anything she put her mind to and never even considered that she couldn’t have everything she wanted.

I ask that kid to help me live that way now as an adult. Because it’s so easy to let life slowly dim your dreams, your drive, and your sense of wonder and possibility.

I have to believe there was a reason that kid was so confident and so sure of herself at such a young age. So I let her make the decisions and drive the ship — not the 31-year-old version of me who sometimes tries to convince me to “be more realistic.”

The older I get, the more intentionally I return to my younger self.

So I guess I would say, “Thank you. You inspire me.”

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There are so many more reader stories we’ve shared — don’t miss these:

“A newsletter has to have a theme and it has to evolve… One thing I've learned is never to limit your scope of interest. If you’re obsessed with something off your beat don’t be afraid to cover that too, whether it’s spy novels, sad sports teams or the Westminster dog show.”

Okay, that’s probably a little further afield from where we generally travel here, but it got me thinking: how have you changed/evolved as an athlete since you started your running journey?

What new goals have you reached for, especially if they’re things you didn’t think were possible for you previously? What’s changed about you? — Terrell

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I’ve mentioned this before, I know, but one of my all-time favorite movies is 1984’s The Natural, which stars Robert Redford as an aging Roy Hobbs, a one-time pitching phenom whose path to the major leagues was derailed by a tragic accident.

The film’s present day begins nearly twenty years later, when a fortysomething Hobbs has decided to take one last shot at baseball, long past the age by which most players have retired.

I’ve loved the movie ever since the first time I saw it, back when I was in the seventh grade — the age little T is now, by the way. But it inspires me even more today, now that I’m much closer to Hobbs’ age than I was the first time I saw it. (In fact, I’m a decade older!)

A couple of weeks ago, I watched it for the first time in a long time. Some movies I once loved haven’t aged so well, but this one has — the peaceful, rustic farmhouse Hobbs grows up in, the glamour of New York once he finally makes it onto the Knights, the excitement of playing in Chicago’s Wrigley Field, it all still feels fresh.

Most of all, the climactic scene — in which Hobbs hits the highest, longest home run you’ve ever seen, sending the ball soaring into the grandstand lights, which explode in a shower of sparks down onto the field — still gives me chills.

Just before that happens, though, there’s a scene I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since my re-watch: when Hobbs, still at the plate, hits a high fly ball he thinks is a home run, but actually turns foul.

Walking back to home plate, he sees his beloved “Wonderboy”-inscribed bat, shattered in two on the ground. He’d made the bat himself as a kid, hewing it from the trunk of a tree felled by lightning. The bat had been a trusted friend, the one thing that connected him to his childhood, that never failed him. And now it lay in pieces, ruined.

Hobbs stands and stares at the broken bat, at a loss for what to do. We see the Knights’ batboy, Bobby Savoy, come running out of the dugout to pick up the pieces; he looks back at Hobbs, who has only one thing to say: “go pick me out a winner, Bobby.”

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• Have a question? Or a thought to share?

• Something cool/funny/sad/exciting/etc. that happened this week?

• Any accomplishments or goals you reached, running-related or not?

(This may be a huge mistake… 🤣 we’ll see!) — Terrell

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I can’t tell you how happy and excited I am to share this story with you today. In fact, I had the feeling Carlos might be someone I’d want to feature here from the moment he became a paid subscriber to THM just a few weeks ago.

From the start, he was excited to share his experiences and thoughts, and I saw from each post the passion he had for running — a sport, by the way, he didn’t take up until well into middle age, when he was 50 years old.

I love that because today, especially, it’s so easy to think of running as largely a young person’s activity — on social media, on the covers of magazines, and elsewhere, that’s who we tend to see. But Carlos shows that age isn’t a barrier at all, as he’s still running strong now at age 67.

His story is so much fun to read, I won’t dilly-dally anymore other than to say, I think you’ll find his relationship with his grandchildren as endearing as I did, and stay tuned because an interview with his granddaughter Mia, who’s every bit as accomplished and enthusiastic a runner as he is, will follow soon. Enjoy. — Terrell

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So, let’s hear a little bit about you! Who are you, your age (if you’d like to share), where you’re from, what you do, etc.

I’m Carlos Sanchez, age 67, and I live in Round Rock, Texas. I’ve been retired for a year now, trading my keyboard and slacks for shorts and the marathon running circuit.

My tech career began in 1980 as a computer programmer on big IBM computers, long before PCs were a household staple. The computing landscape has completely changed since then, but I adapted as programming languages changed.

In the latter half of my career, I transitioned into systems administration. Back then, my job was keeping the computers running — now, I focus on keeping myself running.

What does your running routine look like? How many times a week, and how far do you run?

I run six days a week, averaging 40 to 50 miles. Twice a week, I meet my teammates for speed work and quality miles, wrapping up the weekend with a 15-to-20-mile long run.

At age 67 in 2025, I ran a total of 1,808 miles, three marathons, and two half marathons — earning two new PRs and qualifying for Boston twice.

My first marathon time at age 50 in Chicago 2008 was 3:59:48 and my latest marathon in Boston 2026 was 3:54:53, another BQ for Boston 2027. My fastest marathon of 3:50:19 was in July 2025 in the Juneau Marathon. At the other end, my slowest marathon time was 4:42:31 during the 2015 South Padre Island Marathon.

My running routine has looked a little different these past few weeks. I am currently working through my very first running-related injury. An abdominal muscle pain surfaced in February, I ignored it through June; there was absolutely no way I was going to let anything disrupt my plans to share the Boston Marathon starting line with my granddaughter.

Now that the issue is nearly resolved, I am eager to get back to my normal routine and begin training for the 2026 Chicago Marathon. Through the 17 years I’ve been running, I have been very fortunate to not have any running-related injuries until now.

There was, however, a cycling injury in 2023 that kept me from running for about 18 months. I am not a cyclist at all, but did participate in the annual MS150 charity bike ride eight times. This is a 150-mile bicycle ride to raise funds to help folks living with multiple sclerosis.

With 15 miles to go, I was going 18 miles-per-hour on the bicycle and crashed into a pedestrian. Not knowing what happened, I woke up in the ambulance arguing with the medics that I needed to go finish the ride. They said, “No.”

My wife has imposed a life-time ban on cycling for me. As soon as I healed up, I resumed running.

Were you an athletic kid growing up? What are your early memories of what fitness and health were about?

When I was 14, watching Mark Spitz dominate the 1972 Olympics convinced me I could swim. My theory collapsed the moment I jumped into the deep end of a pool and immediately sank. A friend had to dive in, pull me out, and spend the rest of the day teaching me the basics of swimming.

For most of my life, sports were just casual outdoor fun. My running routine was limited to showing up for the Austin’s annual Capitol 10K with zero training or chasing around the cross country race course to see my children run.

To me, a marathon seemed humanly impossible. That changed at age 50 when I finally took up running seriously. Now, 17 years and 38 marathons later, I am proof that anyone can redefine what is possible.

How did you first get into running? Was there something that inspired you — like a performance at the Olympics, for example, or a runner you discovered by watching them on social media or TV? Or was there someone in your own life who inspired you to think, ‘maybe I can do this?’

Watching my son and daughter compete in high school track and cross country, I always deeply admired their talent and dedication. My daughter, Alexis, continued running in college, often mentioning her dream of running a marathon after graduation.

The idea felt completely wild to me, something only superhumans do, but I thought it sounded like an incredible challenge we could try. In early 2008, once her college days wrapped up, I threw out an unexpected offer: if she wanted to run a marathon, I would join her.

We started training and lined up for the 2008 Chicago Marathon. At our pasta dinner the night before the race, I casually mentioned that I’d probably lose time stopping to retie my shoes, which constantly came undone during training.

Right there at the table, she taught me the proper runner’s knot. We finished the race, and in all the miles I’ve run since, my laces have never come undone again. Alexis and I have run three marathons together.

Seventeen years later, in February 2025, I was preparing for the April Mountains 2 Beach Marathon in California. I texted my granddaughter, Mia, asking if she wanted to run her first marathon and possibly qualify for Boston. She had about ten weeks to prepare while attending school at Harvard in Boston.

Running there in the winter is a little tough, but she put in the necessary miles and was ready to run her first marathon. She was a decorated high school and collegiate runner, so she knew how to prepare even in harsh conditions.

Lining up with her at the start line of her first marathon was such a beautiful, proud moment that is seared in my mind. It reminded me clearly of that morning in Chicago when I ran my first marathon with my daughter.

I had a few tears of joy in 2008 and now again in 2025 standing at the start line with Mia. We both finished with Boston qualifying (BQ) times in California. We then went on to make Boston Marathon history and crossed the finish line on Boylston Street in April 2026.

My children and grandchildren inspire me to run. To paraphrase Sir Isaac Newton: if I have gone further, it is by running on the shoulders of these giants.

How has your interest in running evolved since then? Do you run farther, or faster now?

From 2008 through the start of COVID in 2020, my training was unstructured, consisting of roughly 15 to 25 miles over three days a week with friends. Despite the lack of a formal plan, I completed approximately 30 marathons, generally finishing around the four-hour mark. I didn’t really know how to run.

My running underwent a major transformation in 2022 when my marathon times dropped to Boston Marathon qualifying levels. The change happened after I started training with a running coach who transformed my approach to training.

My routine shifted to a 40-to-50-mile week over six days, including weekly speed sessions with long runs that included speed work. Surprisingly, at age 67, I am faster now than when I began my running career 17 years ago.

Running remains a great adventure. Whether it is waking up at 4:44 a.m. for an early morning long run with friends or stepping up to the starting line of a marathon, I still find joy in every single mile.

What do you balance your running with? Do you have a family to take care of? Kids, parents or other relatives or loved ones? If so, how do you balance all of it and still make time to run/care for yourself?

With my children now grown and raising families of their own, staying closely connected with my kids, grandkids, family, and lifelong friends is my highest priority.

I am incredibly fortunate to have a wife who is very supportive of my running goals. To ensure my training never interferes with family time or normal life, I set my alarm to 4:44 a.m. and get most of my workouts done first thing in the morning.

Is there anything you’re especially proud of that you can point to your running and say, ‘this helped me achieve ______’?

I feel immense pride — and even a bit responsible — that my six grandchildren love running and excel at it. We all talk about running often and their achievements. While the two youngest are still small, they already show an eager interest in the sport.

My oldest granddaughter, Mia, ran competitively for four years in college, qualified for the Boston Marathon on her very first try, and completed it with me in 2026 to make Boston history. Her three siblings are already setting school records of their own and want to run a marathon with me once they finish college.

Knowing I have a few years before they graduate, I have to stay in shape and be ready for when they finish school and we can find a marathon and get to the start line together.

What have you learned about yourself from your running journey? Is there anything that’s changed about you since you started?

I run year-round, even through the tough Texas summers when morning lows can hover at around 82 degrees. Whether I am putting in miles with friends or going out for a solo run, I find equal joy in the movement.

Over the past 17 years, I’ve discovered that the running community is incredibly welcoming. In fact, I met one of my closest friends when I first started, and we still log miles together today — a friendship that never would have existed without this sport.

Running has a unique way of breaking down barriers, making it easy to meet people and learn about their lives. It has taught me to be a better listener and to appreciate the beauty of shared silence. After all, when you’re running hard, breathing takes priority over talking. Quiet is okay, quiet is peace.

There are amazing people all around us, and a shared passion like running gives us the perfect opportunity to pause, share our stories, and truly connect.

Where would you like to go with your running? Is there anything special you’d like to achieve — like, say, running all six World Marathon Majors, or running an ultra?

With 38 marathons completed — including three majors, a Boston qualification, and a wild stretch where I inadvertently ran four marathons in 100 days — my running days are far from finished.

Racing through Chicago, New York, Boston, Wisconsin, South Padre Island, Austin, Greece, Cuba, and many other cities has been an incredible adventure, but my biggest wish is simply to keep moving forward alongside my friends and grandchildren.

I love catching glimpses of them out on the trails, working hard with their high school cross country and track teams. Eventually, I plan to share a full 26.2-mile starting line with each of them.

More than anything, I want my miles to serve as proof for them that with the right mindset and dedication, even the hardest things in life can become second nature.

What keeps you going? Especially if you’ve been running for a while — do you ever get bored with it? How do you find new things to motivate you, to keep you going?

For me, every run is an adventure, whether I am exploring a new route or winding through a path I’ve traveled hundreds of times. There is something fascinating about marveling at a beautiful, dark morning sky or watching the trails slowly come to life with other people.

I always make it a point to greet the people I pass by. I never wear headphones; I find tuning into the sounds of nature and my own body far more rewarding than any music or podcast.

Of course, my solo runs look very different from my group runs. When I’m out with friends, our miles are filled with endless laughter, lighthearted teasing, updates about our families, and conversations about whatever is happening in our lives. There is truly never a dull moment as I run.

Look back at yourself when you were a kid, maybe say 10 years old. Remember how you felt, what you thought, especially what you thought you were capable of back then. If you could talk to that kid now, what would you say?

If I could speak to my younger self, I’d tell him this:

Right now, as you climb trees or sit at home in the southernmost tip of Texas, watching Mark Spitz make swimming look effortless during the 1968 Olympics, keep dreaming big.

You too will do incredible things in your life and career. Sure, you are about to run wild and barefoot to the local pool — dodging thorns along the way only to sink the moment you hit the deep end — but don’t worry. You will be pulled out by loving friends and family. Remember that moment, and always give back just as they did.

You might not notice opportunities when they first arrive, but every event is shaping an incredible future for you. Never look back wanting to change your past — alter one detail, and you change the destination.

Brace yourself, because you will witness staggering, unimaginable shifts. Computers in every home, the internet, a global pandemic, self-driving cars... the future is wild.

You’ll see TLAs (Three-Letter Acronyms) for everything, Disco will eventually die out, luckily rock and roll will rock on, the Beatles will split up, and country and western will morph into just country. Through it all, live big and enjoy every single moment.

The best part is you’ll have a fantastic family too. A loving wife, two beautiful children, and six amazing grandchildren.

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There are so many more reader stories we’ve shared — don’t miss these:

I had a thought this morning, actually it’s a thought that’s been in the back of my mind for some time, that I’d like to evolve this Sunday issue into more of a free-form space, with more original writing from me.

So, while today’s issue is like our past Sunday issues, you’ll increasingly see me play with the format here. I’ll start e…

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I love hearing about all of your amazing adventures in running, so I thought this might be the perfect topic for today, especially as we head toward the end of the summer and start dreaming about the fall.

Tell us about your favorite place(s) to run, if for no other reason than to give us all something to daydream about 😃 — Terrell

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It’s a nice (albeit warm) night here in Atlanta and when I look at my calendar I realize it’s already July 22nd… can that actually be true?

True it is, and when I think about that I’m reminded that my kids go back to school soon, and not long after that the Labor Day holiday will arrive, which means fall will officially be here, which means all sorts of things start happening.

And one of those, I know, is that many of you will start training for races, as the fall really is the best time to run (at least here in Georgia). Mid-October, after all, is just twelve weeks away.

So, I thought I’d share a sampling of the training plans I’ve created over the years here at THM, in case you’re thinking/dreaming of running a half (or even a full marathon) this fall.

Feel free to reach out with any training questions you have, by email or in the comments — I’m happy to help in any way I can.

Your friend,

— Terrell

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Here are a few of my plans — you can see my full list of training plans here:

Those are just a sampling of the plans I’ve created, which also include training schedules for the 10-mile distance plus a few more half marathon plans.

You can see all of them here:

See all my training plans here

Earlier this week, I shared with you how I feel like I’m starting back at square one with my running. Not necessarily at zero — I’ve been running here and there — but pretty close to it.

It’s dawning on me, though, how intentional I’m going to need to be to create space for running in my life going forward, which has changed with a ne…

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What are you dreaming about/aiming for/looking forward to later this summer, fall (or even winter)? Do you have a big goal race on your calendar, a new distance you’re shooting for, or anything else that is getting you excited to get out there?

So, what are you looking forward to in the second half of this year? — Terrell

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A few weeks ago, my 12-year-old’s cross country coach sent us an email with a training schedule, the running he’ll need to do to be ready when school starts back up in August.

The plan starts small, with runs of five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes, and the like. It includes some strength exercises too, like planks and push-ups. Nothing too hard, nothing too demanding.

It’s designed for someone starting at zero, essentially, so that by the time school starts they won’t still be at zero. And it gets slightly more challenging with each week, so the students can ease into the fall like a plane heading down the runway, just starting to pull its nose into the air.

To be honest, this plan easily could have been meant for me.

My own running and exercise — while not falling all the way to zero — has certainly not been where it once was. Not where it needs to be, not where it ought to be. There are (good!) reasons for that, but nonetheless — we are where we are.

Even though I’ve run here and there, I feel like I’m starting from scratch. Like I’ve gone all the way back to the beginning. Which, maybe is… okay?

Ever since I was a kid, I’ve never really felt like the year started in January. To me, the year begins when we go back to school, or back to college for the fall semester. When those first leaves turn red, orange and brown, that’s always felt like the true beginning of the year to me.

I think that’s why summer always feels to me like the conclusion of something — and, once you hit about the point where we are now in July, things start turning again. Toward the fall, toward a new start.

It’s been a couple of weeks since we last connected, I know, and I’ve had lots of thoughts. Things have been churning in the back of my mind, as I’m sure they have for you too.

I want to re-dedicate myself to my health and fitness; especially after the beach vacation I’ve just been on, when I let myself be lazy and eat… whatever I wanted! (It was glorious, by the way!) That can only last so long, though. Sooner or later, we have to get back on the path.

One thing that’s never far from my mind is, I’m midway through my 55th year. I may have a little way left to go in my life, I may have a long way to go — or maybe even a really long way. (My hope, of course, is for the latter.)

But there’s something inescapable about being at roughly the half-way point of life: you keep thinking, “what comes next?” Especially once your children get older, or at least when they aren’t little anymore.

In his stand-up act years ago, Jerry Seinfeld has a great bit about what it’s like to be a kid:

When you’re little, your life is up. The future is up. Everything you want is up.

“Wait up! Hold up! Shut up! Mom, I’ll clean up! Just let me stay…up!”1

That captures it so well, doesn’t it? When we’re young, we’re looking up, we’re looking forward, ahead to the adventure. Everything is about taking the next step up the ladder.

Now, though, I feel differently. I don’t know what’s next, but I’m not sure it’s up, necessarily. Is the right aim to stay where I am? To simply keep doing what I’m doing? Or is it to try to move forward, to break new ground?

Right now, I honestly don’t know. And maybe it’s okay not to have an answer, at least for the time being. But I do feel a stirring, for an answer I hope will come into view.

In the meantime, I’m going to put one foot in front of the other as I return to running — which won’t be easy, I know! But at least I have good company, all of you who get out there and do this too.

I’ll leave you with my favorite photo I took last week, a boat that had been converted into a Tiki bar, floating on a creek headed out to the Atlantic.

Keep in touch, and let me know how your running/life is going.

Your friend,

— Terrell

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I hope you’re waking up to a lovely 5th of July, and it’s not too hot and humid where you are. (It is where I am! When I woke up around 7 this morning, it was already 83 degrees here 🥵)

Anyway, I just wanted to share a few races I think you’ll love running, in some amazing places around the world. I’m heading back to vacation now, bu…

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It’s almost time.

Time to power down, to kick my feet up and take a little rest. Soon, I’ll be heading with my family to a beach along the South Carolina coast, just like the one in the photo above.

It’s one of my favorite places in the world, a place where the afternoon sunset always feels like time slowing down, a place where I can put all my cares away for a few days.

Though I’m not sure there’ll be much break from the heat we’ve been experiencing where I live here in Georgia; at the beach it’ll probably be even warmer!

Still, that’s okay. I’ll be off the grid and doing some reading, hoping to finish the wonderful Harper Lee collection I recently picked up, The Land of Sweet Forever, plus Kathryn Stockett’s The Calamity Club, her second novel and one I’d read she was working on a decade ago, but had long given up hope she’d ever finish.

And yet, here it is. (Which goes to show, we never really know what the future holds, do we?)

I hope your running has been going great and you’ve been having big adventures. Some of you, I know, have been running goal races and notching big accomplishments — which is amazing! If you have one coming up or really anything you’re looking forward to, I’d love to hear about it.

Until we talk again — which I expect to be in a couple of weeks — I hope you’re having a wonderful, restful summer, and that you get to take some well-deserved time off too.

As always, keep in touch and let me know how your running/life is going.

Your friend,

— Terrell

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P.S.: I’ll have at least one, maybe two additional issues between now and then for paid subscribers, so be on the lookout for those 👍

It’s been a minute since I shared one of your stories, and I can’t wait for you to meet , who writes the wonderful newsletter , in which she shares her adventures (and amazing photography) of all her, well, outdoor adventures — running, hiking, skiing, and exploring of all kinds.

One of the things I love most about Jenn’s story is the legacy her mother — whom she describes as “fiercely strong and independent,” and who encouraged her daughter to cultivate those same qualities — gave her. Because I’m a parent of two myself, seeing how deeply Jenn’s mom influenced her has given me so much to think about.

Jenn came to running a little over two decades ago, and has since achieved things many of us dream of — running the Boston and New York marathons, as well as many ultra-marathons. She’s just amazing, and I know you’ll love her story as much as I did.

As always, keep in touch and let me know how your running/life is going. And if you’d like to share your story here, please reach out! — Terrell

So, let’s hear a little bit about you! Who are you, your age (if you’d like to share), where you’re from, what you do, etc.

My name is Jenn Woltjen and I am now 68 years old. I live in upstate New York near the Finger Lakes. I retired from a career in higher education about 10 years ago.

Since then, I’ve devoted my life to pursuing my love of endurance sports and my passion for sharing my adventures through my writing and photography. You can find more about me, my writing and photography on my new website at JennWoltjen.com.

What does your running routine look like? How many times a week, and how far do you run?

These days, my exercise routine is more about listening to my body than about training plans.

My general goal is to run or cycle about 3 to 5 times a week. I wake up, check in with how I feel, and go from there. Some days call for miles. Other days, I may do yoga or lift weights.

When my body asks for it, I lean more on cycling and less on running. It allows me to stay active while reducing impact and giving my legs a break. In the winter, I cross-country ski more.

Earlier in my running career, I would run 5 to 6 times a week when training for a marathon or ultra. While I’d love to run that much now, those days are behind me. My goal today is to stay active — with cross-country skiing, running, cycling, and other sports — for as long as possible.

Were you an athletic kid growing up? What are your early memories of what fitness and health were about?

I wasn’t a runner growing up — and I wouldn’t have described myself as particularly athletic.

I loved being outdoors, shaped in large part by my mother. A fiercely strong and independent single mom, she encouraged that same spirit in me — signing me up for Girl Scouts and opening the door to camping, hiking, and life outside. Those experiences built my confidence and independence.

I was also drawn to horses. When my mother could afford it, she took me to a local stable that offered trail rides. Getting out onto the forested trails on horseback opened up a new world for me.

How did you first get into running? Was there something that inspired you — like a performance at the Olympics, for example, or a runner you discovered by watching them on social media or TV? Or was there someone in your own life who inspired you to think, ‘maybe I can do this?’

I was not born to run. My first love was cross-country skiing and I took up running simply to stay in shape.

After my mom passed away in 1996 from Alzheimer’s, I stayed rooted in those same pursuits — skiing, hiking, moving through the woods. When I started running in the early 2000s, it was still just a tool to help me get in shape for skiing.

At first, I wasn’t sure how far I could run. My first half marathon felt like a major accomplishment. I was slow, and I didn’t have the confidence to go faster — let alone imagine finishing a marathon. But I did have endurance built from my years of cross-country skiing.

So I made an unexpected leap — from half marathons to ultras. To me, ultras felt like a natural extension of what I already loved: a combination of fast hiking and slow running, often on trails. I finished my first ultramarathon in 2014, and I loved it. Being out on the trails made all the difference.

Over time, running became something more. I’ve since run marathons, including New York City and Boston, along with many long-distance races in between. I often think about how proud my mother would have been — and wish she could have been there at the finish line.

In 2019, I ran the Chicago Marathon in her honor, raising awareness for Alzheimer’s disease. In many ways, running became an extension of what my mother started — another path to the same sense of adventure she first introduced me to.

What do you balance your running with? Do you have a family to take care of? Kids, parents or other relatives or loved ones? If so, how do you balance all of it and still make time to run/care for yourself?

I balance physical pursuits with my work in writing and photography and with time with my family. I don’t follow a strict schedule — I fit it in where I can and adjust based on how I’m feeling. For me, running, cycling and cross country skiing is part of how I take care of myself.

Is there anything you’re especially proud of that you can point to your running and say, ‘this helped me achieve ______’?

Running has helped me build confidence in myself — and prove that it’s never too late to set meaningful goals.

I came to running later in life and started out unsure of how far I could go. But over time, I kept increasing my goals as I became more confident. I think my biggest and hardest effort was spending three years devoted to running 5 to 6 days a week to qualify for the Boston Marathon — all in my early 60s. I ran the Boston Marathon in April 2022.

That journey to Boston taught me patience, discipline, and resilience. It showed me that progress takes time — and that no matter when you start, you can still achieve things you once thought were out of reach.

That’s what I’m most proud of.

What have you learned about yourself from your running journey? Is there anything that’s changed about you since you started?

I’ve learned to trust my body — and to listen to it.

When I started running, I focused on distance and goals. Over time, especially as I’ve gotten older, that shifted. Longevity matters more than pushing through at all costs. Some days I go farther, some days I pull back — and both are part of the process.

Running has also shown me that I’m more capable than I once believed, even starting later in life. Growth still happens — often just beyond what feels comfortable.

Where would you like to go with your running? Is there anything special you’d like to achieve — like, say, running all six World Marathon Majors, or running an ultra?

I’m currently working through an injury, which has shifted my focus. But I’m already thinking about the next chapter — hopefully a return to running another ultra.

What keeps you going? Especially if you’ve been running for a while — do you ever get bored with it? How do you find new things to motivate you, to keep you going?

What keeps me going is the pull of new trails and the simple desire to stay active — and to stay in shape for cross-country skiing, especially as I hope to do more long-distance ski events.

I don’t really get bored with it because it’s never just about running. It’s about being outside, exploring new places, and moving through the woods and mountains. That sense of discovery keeps it fresh.

Look back at yourself when you were a kid, maybe say 10 years old. Remember how you felt, what you thought, especially what you thought you were capable of back then. If you could talk to that kid now, what would you say?

I’d tell her to trust herself — and to be patient.

I’d tell her that you do not need to have it all figured out. Your love of the outdoors and the quiet confidence you are building will come together over time.

And I’d tell her to pay attention to her mom — to her strength, her independence, and the opportunities she created for you. That influence will carry you further than you can imagine.

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There are so many more reader stories we’ve shared — don’t miss these:

This is one of those questions I can’t believe I haven’t already asked, but when I stumbled across this story earlier this week, I knew I needed to check in with you all.

When you read running magazines or follow famous runners on social media, it’s very easy to get the impression that many (most?) runners are constantly changing out their shoes.

But I really… don’t. The common rule of thumb is that you should replace your shoes after about every 300 to 500 miles — but that’s really just a guideline. There are people who run a lot less (and a lot farther) in their shoes than that.

So, my question to you is: how often do you get new running shoes? When do you know it’s time for a new pair? And, do you run in multiple brands, or stick to one? — Terrell

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A few weeks ago, I was having lunch with a friend at work. He’s pretty disciplined about what he eats, I’d noticed, always bringing fresh fruit, salads and other healthy choices for lunch.

Our conversation drifted toward strength training, which he does regularly and… I wish I did. I know I need to — I’ve known it for years! — but I find it so difficult to find the motivation to do it, let alone set aside time for it.

(Maybe that’s why I found myself bringing it up, as I’m fully aware I need to, and yet for some reason keep finding excuses not to… then again, maybe that’s a subject for another day!)

He asked me what I wanted to get out of working out, a question that reminded me of the first time I ever worked out with a personal trainer, which now is more than a decade ago. The first time I visited a gym, the trainer I met with asked me, “what are your goals?”

Goals? So, people have goals when they work out?

“Yeah,” he replied. “Where do you want to get to? What do you want to look like?”

To be honest, I’d never thought that way at all. All I’d had was a general sense it would be a good thing if I was stronger, if I was in better shape. Never gave it a single thought beyond that.

“Well…” I replied, hesitantly. “Actually, I’m not sure.”

That’s okay, the trainer assured me. I was far from the first person who’d walked in there without a clue. We’d start with some basic workouts, and move around to different parts of the body over the course of a few sessions. Piece of cake, right?

Turns out… it wasn’t! But that’s another story for another time too 🤣

Now, all that came back to me the other day when I was sitting and having lunch with my friend. Because when I thought about working out with weights, all I could think of was how difficult it was, how arduous I remember it being.

I must have been sharing that, because the next thing he said made me do a double-take: “Do you really want to get bigger? You don’t have to, you know.”

Even though I knew I didn’t want — or even think it possible — for me to become some musclebound bodybuilder, for some reason I equated lifting weights with that. Meaning, why would you lift weights if you didn’t want that?

No, he told me, you can just work out a little bit — incorporate a few small things into your routine, just two or three times a week. There’s no need to make a huge production of it; just make it a natural part of your life.

“Just add some stretching, a couple planks, some squats,” he told me. “You don’t have to be like these people on Instagram.”

That’s stuck in my mind so much these past few weeks, because with my new job — and the five-day-a-week commute — I haven’t been running like I used to. Really, the only time I’m able to get a run in lately seems to be on Saturdays, when I have a couple-hour window to just go and be by myself.

But because my running doesn’t look like it used to — my mileage stats on Strava are pretty low these days! — I’ve started to tell myself I’m not a “real” runner anymore. (And I write this newsletter!)

What I’m trying to remember is, what I can do right now may not look like it did a year ago. Someday I’ll be back to running the kinds of miles I used to run, but right now isn’t that time. That’s okay; for the moment, I’m needed elsewhere.

You’d think that by the age I am now, 55, I’d long have become accustomed to the seasonality of life. But I still have to learn, I still have to adjust. I still have to figure out how to be patient, and let what needs to happen, what needs to be right now, be.

Someday I’ll be in a different place and be able to devote more time to it. But now, I’ll need to take what I can get and do less — and hopefully, someday it’ll be more again.

Does this make sense? Does it sound off the wall? I hope not — I’m also really curious if you go through phases like this in your own life, whether you go through seasons.

How does it work for you?

As always, keep in touch and let me know how your running/life is going.

Your friend,

— Terrell

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All this past week, my wife, little T and I have been watching the University of Georgia baseball team compete in the Men’s College World Series in Omaha, Neb. It’s been a blast, not least because my wife is an alumni and while I’m not, I was born and raised here, and so red and black are our colors for life.

We’ve been living (or dying!) on every pitch, every swing, every home run that Bulldogs catcher Daniel Jackson hits 447 feet into the stands — and it’s been so awesome to see, as this year is the team’s first trip to Omaha in almost twenty years.

This is also the first time little T has ever really been into watching baseball, my first love as a sports fan back when I was a kid. He’s humored me here and there; we’ve taken him to see the Atlanta Braves play, but at those games the highlight was the ice cream (!), not anything happening on the field.

I must admit, the sport has tried my patience too in recent years. First, the steroids scandal of two decades ago, but more recently the emphasis on sports betting has slowly but surely drained away a lot of the enthusiasm I once had.

That may be why the college game has been such a breath of fresh air. There’s local pride involved; that’s our Bulldogs competing up there in Nebraska, you know? (Even though we don’t personally know a soul involved with the team!)

I realized, I’d forgotten what the rhythm of baseball feels like. In recent years, we’ve watch a lot — a LOT — of college football, which is bursts of action but mostly a lot of… standing and walking around. Golf, also a love of mine, is similar; it’s mostly preparation for (very) brief bursts of action.

Baseball, on the other hand, is subtly misleading. Yes, there’s a lot of standing out in the field. (Especially for the outfielders.) But even in moments when the game feels slow, there’s an undercurrent of action, of thought and strategy bubbling just below the surface.

When you really get into it — when you’re thinking along with the pitcher and the batter, deciding whether the next pitch should be a fastball, curveball or changeup, or which part of the field the batter will try to hit to — you realize how absorbing it can become.

You find yourself leaning on the edge of your seat with every pitched ball, every swing of the bat. (“No way that was over the plate!” you say to yourself when your team gets robbed on a two-out called strike three.) You get wrapped up in it, because it’s fun to get wrapped up in it — it’s fun to care.

Even though you know heartbreak is part of the deal… as, sadly, it was for our Bulldogs. After losing to the University of Oklahoma on Monday, they faced the University of Texas in must-win elimination game on Tuesday; for several innings, they couldn’t put any runs on the board.

Very late in the game, though, UGA broke through with a pair of runs to take down the Longhorns, which gave us hope! But then last night, they had to play Oklahoma again and friends… it’s wasn’t pretty.

Georgia gave it everything they had, but the game reminded me so much of what it was like to watch the Braves battle the New York Yankees in both teams’ heyday thirty years ago. The Yankees played on a completely different level back then, just like Oklahoma did last night.

We were sad, not so much about the loss but that this fun ride for UGA had now come to an end. After all, I’ve seen a lot of baseball games in my life, gone through a lot of disappointment. At 55, the games don’t matter to me like they once did.

But for little T, this is all new to him. Caring about games is new to him; he doesn’t have years or decades to draw on, to know that once the season is over, it’s time to leave it behind and think about the next one. That you’ll get a chance to start anew.

So, I probably don’t need to tell you that there were quite a few tears after last night’s loss. We had to process it, figure it out. “Why couldn’t they beat Oklahoma?” I don’t understand it either, I told him.

There’s a part of me, in moments like this, that wants to calm him down, tell him it’s no big deal, to shrug it off and look forward. But then I remind myself, it’s good to care, you know? It’s good to put our hearts out there, to wear them on our sleeve.

Adulthood has a way of taking a lot of that away, as we all know. And of course, we do have to mature as we grow up and get older; it’s part of how we deal with life, I know. But there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to let go of really caring about something to the point that it breaks your heart.

Maybe that’s because when we can care that way, it means we’re more than just automatons bobbing about, more than the technology we carry around in our pockets — we’re flesh and blood, with heart, sinew and bones inside, a real person who cares.

It’s all too easy, as we get older, to sand these edges of ourselves off. To forget what we were like when we were kids, to leave the things we once cared about behind.

Maybe I needed to be reminded that we shouldn’t. Like Faulkner once said, maybe we need to be reminded of “the old verities and truths of the heart,” you know?

Anyway, I hope you’ve had a wonderful week and have gotten some great runs in — as always, keep in touch and let me know how your running/life is going.

Your friend,

— Terrell

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I’m out of town this weekend, catching up with some old college friends. So I won’t be in your inboxes with my normal posts.

In the meantime, I thought I’d share some pieces you might have missed, especially if you’re new here — or even if you’ve been a longtime subscriber.

These are some of my favorite essays, and if you are new, they give you an intro for the kinds of things I write about when my mind gets percolating.

So, here we go: in this first selection, I wrestle with feelings of being in a rut, with feeling stuck, and not knowing which direction to go:

And in this one, I share what it’s like to watch my son grow up and start to leave behind being a little boy:

Even though I’m a huge fan of , I let his book The Power of Regret sit on my shelf unread for years. Once I finally remedied that, I had a revelation:

How much emphasis to place on work in our lives is also something I’ve wrestled with, really ever since I first started working full-time, right after college. And I’m still wrestling with it:

When the seasons change, I always find my mind drifting off to a place of reflection (like you, no doubt). Last fall saw my little man get into football for the first time, something we shared (and learned about) together:

I stumbled across this book by James Hollis in ’s wonderful blog and newsletter, about finding what we’re meant to do, even when we’re well into our lives:

And here’s one last essay, about a professor I knew way back in college who knew a little something about love, and when you might need to drop everything and go find where it takes you:

That’s all for now; there’s lots more to share from the newsletter archives — maybe I’ll share more in another issue like this?

In the meantime, I hope you have a fantastic weekend and get some great runs in. As always, keep in touch and let me know how your running/life is going.

Your friend,

— Terrell

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So far in our profile series, we’ve heard entirely from runners. But when I first heard from the person you’ll meet today, she told me that while she does run, her true passion now is cycling — and could we talk about that?

It struck me as the perfect opportunity to open up our series to people with different experiences, who have stories that are a little outside the strike zone of what we normally cover — and that that could be a great thing.

And when I first read what Catherine had to say, I knew she’d be the perfect person to kick off a new direction — I just loved what she shared about growing up in the U.K. and living now in the Basque country that straddles France and Spain, and all the adventures she has.

I think you’ll love her story too — as always, keep in touch and let me know how your running/life is going! — Terrell

So, let’s hear a little bit about you! Who are you, your age (if you’d like to share), where you’re from, what you do, etc.

Hi! I’m . I’m a freelance writer and editor. I’m 33 years old, I live in the beautiful Basque Country, but I grew up in the equally beautiful county of Essex, in the U.K.

I used to work in policy in London, but I quit and ran away to be an English teacher. Now I write for organisations including the Kyiv Independent, an English-language, independent Ukrainian newspaper. I also run a cycling Substack (Spinning Tales), and work part-time in a bike shop.

What does your cycling routine look like? How many times a week, and how far do you bike?

My routine really depends on the season! I try to cycle twice in the week and then do a long ride at the weekend — “try” being the operative word. In the autumn and winter a lot of rides end up being on the indoor trainer because the Basque Country is very wet and windy.

Rides in the week can be pretty short, only one or two hours, but weekend rides can be much longer. The distance also depends on what kind of cycling I’m doing, and the elevation. You can do way more kilometres on the road than on mountain bike trails.

This spring I was preparing for the Kyiv Half Marathon, so from January to April I was running three times a week and cycling twice a week.

Were you an athletic kid growing up? What are your early memories of what fitness and health were about?

It’s funny, I never thought of myself as athletic because I wasn’t good at the sports we played at school, but actually I always did lots.

My mum was really into sailing — she taught it when she was younger — so I first learnt to sail a dinghy aged about four, and we used to go sailing after school and at the weekends in the summer.

I learnt to ride a horse when I was very little too, and I’ve got lots of memories of swimming and cycling and enjoying it. But I don’t think I ever thought of any of that as “fitness” or something to do to be healthy. It was all just fun.

When I was 11 I started fencing. Someone came in to run a class at my school, and I was good at it because I was tall and left-handed. I kept doing it and by the time I was 13, I was representing Great Britain in the Cadet (under 17) team. I carried on doing that until I was about 16.

Fencing competitively was probably what first made me think about my fitness. I used to do circuit training — it would probably be called CrossFit now! — to build muscle, run a bit for aerobic fitness, plus I went to weekly pilates classes with my mum.

How did you first get into cycling? Was there something that inspired you — like a performance at the Olympics, for example, or a cyclist you discovered by watching them on social media or TV? Or was there someone in your own life who inspired you to think, ‘maybe I can do this?’

I first rode a bike when I was very small, but then when I was maybe eight or nine I had a crash and smashed my front teeth out. I didn’t really pick it up again until I moved to London at 18.

I got a single speed bike and rode it around London for years — I don’t think my legs have ever been so strong! I used to do spinning classes too, which I love, they’re such a weird cross between exercise, a night out, and church.

When I was about 26, I started mountain biking with my boyfriend at the time who used to race Enduro, a downhill mountain biking discipline. I was very scared the first few times and I realised that, if I was going to stick with it, I needed to convince myself that it was something cool girls did — not just my crazy boyfriend!

I started following female mountain bikers on Instagram: Kate Courtney, Jolanda Neff, Rachel Atherton and Tahnee Seagrave, to name a few. I did think they were cool, and they really inspired me. They’re still inspiring me now!

Later I got more into gravel and road. The pro cycling teams are a real inspiration. I’m a big fan of athletes like Puck Pieterse and Pauline Ferrand-Prevot who compete across different cycling disciplines.

How has your interest in cycling — and, by extension, fitness and health — evolved since then? Do you bike farther, or faster now?

Cycling is such a huge part of my life now, it’s hard to believe I only really started a few years ago! I have three bikes, a cycling Substack, and I work in a bike shop.

But honestly, the biggest thing, and the thing that surprises me the most, is what I am now capable of on my bike, both in terms of distance and skill.

When I first started, a 30km bike ride felt like a lot. Last summer, I cycled 1,200km from the Basque Country back to the U.K., cycling over 100km every day, carrying my tent and all my stuff, and I absolutely loved it.

On my mountain bike, I can now ride trails that I remember thinking I would never, ever even want to ride when I first saw them. It sometimes blows my mind how far I’ve come — though I’m really still not particularly good!

What do you balance your cycling with? Do you have a family to take care of? Kids, parents or other relatives or loved ones? If so, how do you balance all of it and still make time to bike/care for yourself?

I don’t have children or caring responsibilities so I am super lucky to be able to organise my time largely around my own whims. Of course, sometimes I don’t quite manage to balance things anyway!

Is there anything you’re especially proud of that you can point to your cycling and say, ‘this helped me achieve ______’?

My dad died about six weeks before I was meant to start my cycling trip from Spain to the U.K. It very nearly stopped me going — there was so much to do, I hadn’t trained in the way I wanted to, and I was worried about how I would feel.

But in the end I decided to go anyway, and it turned out to be exactly what I needed. All that time on the bike really helped me process my emotions. It’s not so much an achievement, but it’s definitely something that cycling helped with in my life, and I am proud of myself for going even though I was scared.

What have you learned about yourself from your cycling journey? Is there anything that’s changed about you since you started?

I’m naturally quite an impatient person, and that doesn’t pair well with a) starting a new sport as an adult, or b) doing any endurance sport.

Learning to mountain bike was very frustrating for me to start with. But I stuck with it, and I got better, slowly but surely. I’m now more confident that if I can’t do something, I can learn how to.

On longer rides, and particularly in races, I find it very hard to pace myself. I want to go fast from the beginning and I can’t imagine I’ll run out of energy, until, of course, I do. I’m gradually learning that slow and steady wins the race (or at least finishes it with a bit less drama).

Where would you like to go with your cycling? Is there anything special you’d like to achieve — like, say, biking a particular amazing place in the world, or a particular distance?

There are so many places I would like to cycle!

In terms of long-distance road or gravel rides, I have plans in the works to cycle Corsica from North to South, and to cross the Pyrenees from the Mediterranean back to the Basque Country. The Atlas mountains in Morocco, the Balkans, and Kyrgyzstan all look amazing too.

For mountain biking, there are a ton of bike parks I still need to get to in Europe, but I am actually dying to go to North America. I would love to go back to Colorado for mountain biking, and to visit Whistler one day.

What keeps you going? Especially if you’ve been doing this for a while — do you ever get bored with it? How do you find new things to motivate you, to keep you going?

There are always new places to go on my bike. I like to give myself a challenge every year, instead of a New Year’s Resolution.

Last year I did what I called the Txakoli Txallenge — trying a different kind of txakoli, the Basque lightly sparkling white wine, every month — and this year I’m operating the Trail Centre Taskforce, which means I’m inspecting (visiting) every trail centre here in the Basque Country.

When I was running, I started having to drive myself to new places to keep it interesting. The feeling of adventure and exploration is very important to me.

Look back at yourself when you were a kid, maybe say 10 years old. Remember how you felt, what you thought, especially what you thought you were capable of back then. If you could talk to that kid now, what would you say?

Enjoy being a child. Just keep playing, keep exploring the things you’re interested in. No one knows you better than you do, so try to stay tuned in to how you feel and what you want.

If it’s not fun, what’s the point?

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