There’s a moment in every runner’s life when you realise you’ve spent more time staring at your watch than looking at the world around you. I’ve been there. Obsessing over splits, wondering why my “easy pace” feels like a mild cardiac event, and convincing myself that the algorithm knows my body better than I do. Spoiler: it doesn’t. To make it worse, we love to make the language more complicated or like we have this secret knowledge. It also doesn’t help that coaches and run

There’s a moment on the trail—somewhere between the burn in your calves and the rhythm of your breath—when the world goes quiet. Not silent, but still. The kind of stillness that only mountains can offer. That’s where I found myself last week, standing in the shadow of the Three Sisters in Canmore, Alberta, with a heart cracked open by the sheer beauty of it all. Something I hadn’t felt so strongly in decades. This trip to Canada wasn’t planned as a pilgrimage. It was meant t

They say the West Highland Way is a scenic masterpiece. That’s exactly why I couldn’t sit out the Highland Fling race. It’s been on my...