I’m training for an ultramarathon and thought it might be mildly interesting to show you all what a typical weekend training day looks like. This time, my run took me out to Fangschleuse outside of Berlin for a run along the trails to the German brewery, Schleusenbrauerei.
In North America/ Outdoors
Whitewater Rafting, GAP Trail Running, Laurel Highlands Hiking in Ohiopyle
This weekend getaway in Ohiopyle, Pennsylvania sets off with a little rafting trip up the Youghiogheny River for some crazy, totally gnarly… Class I rapids. There were kids on board, so give me a break. Then, trail running along the Great Allegheny Passage (GAP) trail and a little hike on the rugged Laurel Highlands Trail in Seven Springs.
Berlin to Bannau Brycheiniog National Park in Wales. 1,400 kilometers or 870 miles by train and bus to a new country––Wales––for a little trail running and hiking and to learn a bit more about Welsh culture and heritage. I also met up with Jodie Bond, a writer and the head of communications for the park, to find out why they dropped the English from the park names, what it has to do with climate change.
When you picture the kind of quaint Medieval German village worthy of a postcard, you’re picturing Quedlinburg and it’s roughly 1,200 half-timbered homes. This pristine level of preservation landed the town on UNESCO’s list of world heritage cities, which is essentially bureaucratic recognition that this place is gorgeous.
I know what you’re thinking. How did Quedlinburg stay so well preserved? Two factors come to mind…
A tram to a regional train to a plane to an intercity train to a regional train to an alpine train to a train replacement bus, and a cable car. So was our nearly 12-hour journey from Berlin to the Swiss alpine resort town of Verbier.
And it was worth every transfer.
As has been the theme this year––from Gran Canaria to the Scottish Cairngorms, and the Greek island of Hydra––we traveled for a trail race. This time, it was UTMB’s Trail Verbier St-Bernard 26-kilometer X-Plore course.
It’s our fourth day in Malta and I’ve yet to hit the trails. Excuses kept conveniently presenting themselves.
“What if the weather turns and I get caught in a storm on the coast?”
“Running doesn’t seem particularly popular here. I don’t want to stick out like a sore thumb with my red running vest.”
“I just don’t feel like it.”
My excuses are fruitless this Wednesday morning. There’s nothing more than a gentle breeze in the air and the sun is shooting through a clear sky like a tractor beam pulling me outside. I decide to just pick a route off Komoot and get my ass out the door.