That shot was taken over the Clark Fork in Missoula, Montana, about halfway through my 12 mile marathon training run earlier this week. I used to be steadfast in my commitment to never run a marathon: a half-marathon was fine, but marathons were for masochists. But my attitude began to switch last year. I was training for a Ragnar —
what a hobby feels like
what a hobby feels like
what a hobby feels like
That shot was taken over the Clark Fork in Missoula, Montana, about halfway through my 12 mile marathon training run earlier this week. I used to be steadfast in my commitment to never run a marathon: a half-marathon was fine, but marathons were for masochists. But my attitude began to switch last year. I was training for a Ragnar —