My last letter was June 1…I was talking about Mammoth 50k training, I was still in New York Citayyy, and I was yet to find out that I’d get to see Phoebe Bridgers at MSG (thanks, Ster).

So. I left NYC and went back to Boise at the beginning of June, cruised around Idaho for a couple of months, and just a few weeks ago I landed myself back in beautiful sweaty-as-shit northeast Los Angeles. It’s so good to be back.

I loaded up the Suby (Subi? Soobee? Subaru Crosstrek™? I’m not committing to any of this) with some sick new Thule gear I’m testing out and somehow survived the 14 hour drive to SoCal. Things were touch and go once I made it past Bishop…it was windy as hell and tired eyes were turning to a tired brain, but I pushed on, braved the 5 through the Valley, and arrived in Highland Park just before dark. So here I am, back in LA baby, trying not to melt. On my first full day in LA I went for a run and saw two different friends out and about (shouts to Andrew and Cass), and I knew being back was going to be good.

There’s honestly probably too much to catch you all up on here in this one newsletter but maybe I’ll do a little series. I went to Western States with Hoka and, thanks to that trip, got to interview some of my heroes and write a story for a publication I’d never written for. I went to Denver for a trade show, which was what you might expect from a trade show but I also got to spend some time with some of my best pals. And I went on a solo fastpacking mission in the Sawtooth Range in Idaho. Suddenly it’s the end of August. Where’d all the time go?

A Soul-Enriching Press Trip

I’ve been lucky to have been on some pretty cool trips for work over the past few years, but I wouldn’t necessarily describe many of them as soul-enriching. A few weeks ago, though, I got to head up to the Yay Area with Mountain Hardwear and my best buds at JAM for a quick-strike rundown on Stretchdown. I’m writing about Stretchdown next month so we won’t get into that here, but I want to just talk about what an absolutely life-giving experience I had.

This is personal opinion and not any sort of reflection of capital P Press Trips, it’s just me talking about how fun it was to spend some time with people who really make my life better. Sure, it was an event put on by a PR team and a brand, but to me, the entire thing felt like time with friends…maybe because most of the people on the trip were already my friend. And if they weren’t at the beginning, I’d like to think they are now.

We went to the de Young Museum in Golden Gate Park, which I had somehow never been to, even though I called SF home for a couple of years. It’s my kind of museum—you can see it all in two hours and you never feel trapped—the beautiful, crisp, foggy Bay Area air is never more than a few steps away. But it still has some amazing things to look at. Museums generally make me anxious (looking at you The Met), but this one doesn’t. We spent a bunch of time at the end of our visit in James Turrell’s Three Gems, where I tried to capture the aura but was very much unable to do so.

That evening we shared a great dinner, then I went back up to my room with a view of the Bay Bridge and the Ferry Building.

We took the Richmond ferry to…well…Richmond…the next morning to visit the Mountain Hardwear HQ, which is in the Rosie the Riveter WWII Home Front National Historic Park. Beautiful building. Epic office. Seems like a great place to work, if you ask me. We talked shop for a bit there before heading to Muir Woods for a hike down to Muir Beach where I had to jump in the ocean. I can’t see an SF-adjacent beach without getting in the water, idk. But it’s pretty hard to avoid some serious reflection when surrounded by those giants. What have those trees seen? What am I? What is time? What does it mean to spend a few years on this earth? I don’t have answers, but I had space to ask a lot of questions, many of which don’t even need answers to have an impact. Merely asking the question is sometimes enough.

The next morning I went for a run with friends along the Embarcadero and flew back home (aw) to LA.

I’m getting a little long winded here but basically what I am trying to say is that this was a trip where I felt like I was right where I wanted to be, and right where I needed to be. We had great conversations, I met some inspiring people, got to test some very well-made gear in one of my favorite places on earth, and I left with a full full full cup. I actually am kind of tearing up right now thinking about it?

I’m not altogether sure what I’m trying to say in sharing all this, other than I felt really alive and surrounded by Love on this trip. It was easy, there was joy, and I was at home in my own skin. It was work, and I haven’t tried to write the story I was brought there to write yet, but if you set work aside, this was a pretty cool couple of days.

Getting into the Metric Mindset

Guess what gang, I’m headed back to the French Alps. Tomorrow (very early), I’m flying to 5,000 miles to Chamonix for a weekend of running with The North Face.

Chamonix is being activated to death this week…and I have a lot of thoughts I’ll probably get into later…but for now, I’m just excited to be headed back to a beautiful place to do something I love. So get ready to see a lot of photos and videos of glaciers and mountains and trails and shoes and gear and all the rest.

From there, I’m headed to Paris for a week to see PSG play (if everything goes to plan), taste some champagne, and maybe brave my museum anxiety to go to the Louvre.

Anyway, thanks for coming along with me. I’ll be back later this week with some gear recs, some links to some stories I’ve written lately (or you can just look here right now) and a dispatch from the center of the trail running universe. Still training for the Mammoth 50k, though my 32km (20-mile) run from last week would suggest that I have a long way to go. But hey, that’s what the Alps are for.

Peace out.

OH and yeah of course here are some tunes

A few months back, my sister told me she was going to head up from San Diego with some friends to race the 26K, so I thought, why not try to get a spot in the 50K? Since the race was already full, I joined the waitlist and crossed my fingers. Mammoth is one of my favorite places, and after injuring myself at last year’s Trailfest, I thought it would be the perfect shot at redemption. Now that I’m in, I thought sharing my training journey here would be a great motivator—I always do better with accountability and excitement, and what better way to get both than by writing about it every week.

Today is day one of my training (it’s a rest day). Throughout the next 17 weeks, I’ll be sharing all of the nitty-gritty details, from how training runs are going, the gear I’m using, and any side adventures I can conjure up to make those weekend back-to-backs a bit more fun. I’m thinking there will be a lot of hiking, some fast-packing overnighters, and a steady dose of zone 2 bike rides. And a lot of running.

For my first few ultras (all 50K), I followed a training plan that was a combination of David Roche’s SWAP plans and vibes, which, in retrospect, is probably the reason for the injury last year. This time around, I’m leaning all the way in. No excuses.

Starting today, I’ll be following Roche’s 16-week beginner 50K plan, with one extra week built in as a buffer. And also because it’s 17 weeks from race day. This is the plan I followed for my first ultra two summers ago, and given my relatively low mileage this year, I think it’s better to be safe than sorry. I will be incorporating two gym sessions a week, which I’ve never done before, and also trying to get a little extra vert on the weekends.

I’m also going to try to take at least a couple of trips to elevation throughout training to acclimate, and I have a really exciting trip planned for August that I will update you all on later (Hint: 🇫🇷).

This block is all about commitment. To myself, my body, my mind.

Next week, I’ll give a recap and a look ahead to the following week.

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What I’m into lately

This is a section I’m really excited to keep returning to, and hopefully it’ll be one that you’re into, as well. It’ll be a range of gear I’m testing for work, things I’ve bought for myself, and favorites I keep returning to for all of my outdoor pursuits.

1. First up, The North Face Altamesa 500. These are some of the most comfortable trail shoes I’ve worn in a while and I can’t wait to keep putting more miles on them this summer. Once I get out of NYC and back west (this weekend!), these will be my go-to for light trails.

2. Next, we have the Coros Pace 4. I’ve never worn a Coros watch, and normally I’m Garmin Gang Forever, but I’ve really loved testing this one. It’s light, barely feels like I’m wearing a watch, has an easy-to-read face, and I love the companion app. Info is laid out in detail after each run, and, more importantly, in a way that is easily digestible. I’ll be keeping this one on my wrist for runs around town or short trail runs. Like any GPS watch, you can go suuuuper deep on this, which I won’t do today, but there’s an entire world of info and features built into this watch that I’m excited to keep digging into.

3. I’ve been keeping a close eye on wire-framed sunglasses lately. As such, when I saw the Oakley Wire Frames on sale, I had to give ‘em a go. I bought them for non-running purposes, but once I got them in hand, I knew they’d be a jack of all trades. They are sturdy and heavier than I expected, but not too heavy for a run around the neighborhood. The lenses are excellent, as you’d expect from the big O (do people call it that?), and they are super comfortable, which actually surprised me.

4. Finally, the Raide Research TrailTech shorts. I got Raide’s belts to test about a year ago, and I’ve been loving them. I’m also testing the new vest for a story, so keep an eye out for that. The shorts, though, have been a surprising favorite from the brand’s lineup. They have a bunch of pockets, two of which are designed to hold a hip flask (water only, guys), and a handful of others for gels and peach rings. I’m going to be wearing these a lot this summer.

Trail Tunes

This week, you get my race day playlist (which I actually listen to all the time).

If you made it this far, let me know in the comments what your favorite training food is. Man cannot live on candy alone (though I can sure try).

Peace!

My mind always returns to long days in the mountains, to trail races I want to do, peaks to summit, and long routes to explore. Personal style, where it comes from. The community I want to build.

This is Vert.

It’s a reference to my love for the ascent, on foot, on a bike, or otherwise. But it is also about self-realization and ascending a higher plane. It’s a place to explore growth; as an athlete, as a person, as a friend, and as a writer. I’m still figuring it out. Let’s figure it out together.

Here’s what I do know:

I’ll be talking about running, cycling, hiking, camping, type 2 fun, style, gear, stories that interest me, trip reports, and whatever else feels exciting and worthwhile to share in the outdoor world and its orbit. Really, I want to bring more adventure into my life and, hopefully, into your life, too. Maybe we’ll do a book club! Maybe we’ll do a group run or a camping trip! Who knows. Either way, it’s going to be fun, and I hope you stick around. I’m glad you’re here.

Let’s get into it.

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On Krakauer

Last week, a couple of buddies and I took the train uptown to the 92nd St Y to see Jon Krakauer speak about Into Thin Air, his personal account of the disaster on Mt. Everest in May 1996. He was interviewed by David Grann, another favorite author of mine (you should read The Wager), so it was a no-brainer to make my way up to see him speak.

It was interesting to hear Krakauer’s thoughts about the whole ordeal thirty years on. He seemed genuinely introspective and self-aware about the whole thing, admitting that his presence as a journalist undoubtedly had a negative effect on the guides and other climbers. He mentioned his PTSD often, and I believe him—I can’t imagine the horror of seeing a grown man screaming in fear and pain, or what it would be like to return to base camp only to find that eight of the people you departed with didn’t make it back down.

Detractors of the book are many, and a large portion of the criticism seems well-reasoned and fair. However, to me, the book feels like an honest portrayal of an event that’s nearly impossible to put into words. Krakauer showed what I believed was genuine contrition on stage, though I will admit it’s hard to tell what’s real and what’s not, especially when the person has become rich off a story like this. Both things can be true.

Either way, Into Thin Air is one of my favorite books and a hallmark of the non-fiction category. It’s equal parts inspiring and terrifying, and quite enough to convince me that summiting Everest needs no place on my bucket list.

Un-Satisfy-d

First, I have to say that I’m a big fan of Satisfy. I have been for a long time. I wear their clothes very often and I have written about them for RUN, Outside Mag and GQ over the years. As a guy who has always deeply cared about style and sport and loud music and tattoos, Satisfy scratched an itch. (I will not be litigating whether or not Satisfy is embodying its punk rock ambitions; there are many other people doing that.) I don’t think running brands need to be everything to everyone, and the price doesn’t bother me even a little bit.

The Circle Pit may have looked silly to us on social media, but there’s really no denying that it looked like a good time, and I think that more than a little bit of the grumpiness around the event does have to do with FOMO. The folks who were there looked like they were having a fun and weren’t worried about coming across as corny or cringy, which honestly, rules. Who fucking cares what people think? We all could probably be a bit more willing to just be silly. HOWEVER…

I was recently talking to my friend Amelia (who has an excellent Substack, btw) about my general wariness and weariness with these big-brand marketing moments centered on influencers sharing content from a “fun” location or event.

I’m not going to suggest that brands should axe their budgets and just hope people buy their stuff, but as we are all seeing, there’s a right way and a wrong way to secure people’s eyeballs (and wallets). Flying a bunch of influencers and media out to an event is one thing. This happens all the time. The key is…just be low-key about it. When said influencers and media share highly curated photo dumps and gush about how much fun they’re having to the general public, it doesn’t feel like the win brands want it to be. Sure, they’re capitalizing on the aforementioned FOMO. It gets people talking. Most of these influencers have an eye for a photo and are able to make products look really good. But it’s exclusive. It’s showing potential (or long-time) customers that they’re still on the outside. Not part of the club.

The message it’s really sending is a very Globo-Gym-We’re-Better-Than-You-And-We-Know-It vibe. It’s telling everyone who isn’t there that they’re not cool enough to be there, but they should buy the new shit in hopes that they will be cool enough for the next one. But we all know that blowing a bag on a pair of $300 shorts and a couple of $200 tees will not get you the next invite. This type of exclusivity is not a net positive. Unless brands don’t actually care about inclusion…(they don’t).

EVEN if we dismiss my opinion as whiny and count me among the folks who wished they were invited, another damning issue is the way people who were at ~The Circle Pit~ spoke about it. One Satisfy pro, whom I will not name, but you can probably guess, posted photos from the event with the caption, “Maybe you’re just mad because you were never invited.” Maybe a little too on-the-nose there.

So people didn’t like your event. If you’re cool enough to be in the cool kids club, be cool enough not to shit on everyone on the internet because they didn’t think it was as sick and vibey as you thought. Condescension isn’t a winning attitude. Neither is insecurity. Sure, it was an athlete who said that (among other now-deleted things you can find on Reddit that further illustrate my point) and not the CEO or CD or head of comms, but still, the brand is small enough to perhaps…idk…discourage that kind of stuff?

Any incoming writing from the media they had at the event is now invalidated in my eyes. Any just-wabi-sabi-enough photo dumps with “I survived the Circle Pit” as the caption are now just damage control. It didn’t have to be this way, but the adverse reaction from the general public (and many meme accounts), coupled with subsequent clapbacks from the so-called cool kids, has made it so.

Trying to be cool is exhausting. So let’s just not.

Anyway, that went longer than I thought, so maybe I’ll leave it there today. Next time, I’ll update you on some gear I’m into, some trips I’m planning, and more Vertical goodness.

Welcome to a higher plane.

Oh, and a song for the week (I couldn’t forget!)

Now that it’s not in the 30s and 40s every day, it’s time to start dressing for spring. Last weekend, I took the train up to Beacon to visit a friend, and while basking in the pleasant weather and sunshine, I was delighted at the thought of finally putting away my puffer and breaking out my favorite layers and spring gear. This week in NYC, we had multiple days in the 80s, which isn’t exactly spring weather per se, but again, I’m from California, and a few days of 85 and sunny isn’t something I’m gonna turn down. This weekend has chilled out a bit more—it was cooler yesterday, and it’s a bit damp today—but thank the heavens it’s not actually cold. Breezy, sure, and I don’t like the wind either (shrug), but I’ll let that go since the gusts aren’t chilling me to the bone like they were for all of March.

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Ok, without any more ado, here are 7 things I’m into for spring. Some of them I don’t own (yet), some I do (I’m wearing two of them right now), but they’re all 5-star bangers.

1. Jungmaven Olympic Jacket - I love this thing. I’ve had one for a few years now and you wouldn’t know it—the 10 oz. hemp twill blend is deceptively tough considering how soft it is. I wear it with a t-shirt, over a lighter button shirt, or under a lightweight jacket.

   

2. Snow Peak Hybrid Wool Coach Jacket - Speaking of lightweight jackets, this is my go-to for the varied weather of spring. It stands up to some light rain, though it’s not waterproof at all, so don’t wear it if it’s dumping, and it has a weight to it that I really like—it’s not thick, but the fabric feels substantial, something I value in a quality garment that I want to wear day in and day out. Gabardine for the win.

   

3. William Ellery Weekender - A rugby shirt has always been one of my favorites, but this one really nails the weight and fit in a way that many rugby shirts don’t. It’s boxy, has a chest pocket with pen holder, and just-tight-enough cuffs at the wrist. The weight and material make it feel a bit like a light sweatshirt, but I’m wearing it right now with nothing under it and it is the perfect layer for a 50-something day.

   

4. Lou Crew Raglan SS - Spring is back and that means t-shirts are no longer the base layer that will never be seen. I got one of these Lou raglans last year when they collabed with USAL and I throw it on immediately every single time it comes out of the dryer. It’s cropped but not overly so, the raglan sleeves add some freedom of movement, and I really love the contrast stitching. I’ll be buying more.

   

5. Earth\Studies MP-112 Block Short - I have a pair of shorts from the Portland-based brand that I bought a few years ago and really love, so it might be time to pull the trigger on a new pair in a different color. They’re a bit pricey, but you can tell a lot of care goes into the design, materials, and construction. These are well-considered in a world where shorts are largely an afterthought.

   

6. Norda 003 - Norda makes my all-time favorite running shoe, the 001A. With a laceless design more focused on approach than the run, the 003 was their first deviation from true trail running shoes, and they’re perfect for spring. You can wear them on trails, of course, you can work out in them (minimal cushioning and 5mm drop make them a good gym hybrid), and you can wear them with some hard pants, like I am right now.

   

7. A fresh hat - Ok, this one is vague because I am gatekeeping the new hat I bought until I have it in my hands… It’s currently in Newark waiting to be cleared by customs, according to UPS. But the time for beanies has passed, and it’s time to break out the ballcaps. I was recently lamenting the lack of cool hats to my buddy Sterling and I decided that merch-style caps are a new go-to. Bars, restaurants, stores, or magazines (hint hint) that you like are all great places to find a cap that won’t be worn by every ding dong with an Instagram.

Recommended Reading

Ok, I can’t recommend this with any specific insight yet because I just started it, but I’m working my way through The Wisdom of Insecurity by Alan Watts. I will update you with some thoughts and quotes once I get further in and have had some time to process. So far, so good though. I know it’s going to be a salve for the soul.

And, finally, your listening recs for the week:

Lmk if you have any other spring gear you’re stoked on. Always down to talk shop.

PS. It’s been 3 years since I ran the Boston Marathon. Time flies.

This week, I’m going to start with my latest style inspo—a style that I think I’ve been coming back to for decades and one that is a constant, regardless of the shapeshifting I’m doing based on who I’m around and where I’m physically located (more on that another time).

There’s just something about the vintage outdoors that gets me, and this pic below has been stuck in my brain lately.

Like all great style inspiration, it looks comfortable, effortless, and natural. My attempts to recreate the look with my current wardrobe weren’t quite up to snuff, but maybe I’ll compile some fit pics this week, gather some more moodboard pics, and we can see what we get.

Recommended Reading

Every Sunday, one of my favorite newsletters hits my inbox: Maybe Baby.

This week’s edition hit me harder than most, and did a lot of heavy lifting when it comes to putting words to how I’ve been feeling for the last few months.

To me, it’s about the agony of impatience. She calls it “the desire trap.” Basically, while waiting for an answer we desperately want, what’s better? The actual answer or the relief of the waiting being over? Honestly, there’s no point in my trying to summarize. Just read it. Here’s a link.

I’m going to keep it short this week, because I want you to read her essay. It’s better than anything I feel like even remotely trying to write today.

If you’re still here, here’s my attempt at an outfit from yesterday, inspired by my guy in the pic at the top:

Paraboot shoes, Gramicci pants, Kestin shirt, RCOS sweater, Kestin jacket, Brother Brother hat.

And, finally, your music rec:

Peace and love, gang

Tim and Genesis have some beautiful friends, and it was pretty special to see it all happen. I’m tearing up just thinking about it. The only time during the wedding I somehow managed not to cry was during my speech, and I think that’s because I fully blacked out (not from drinking, that was later.) (jk, I didn’t black out, but I finished the night with Taco Bell, so take that how you will. Shouts to Noah and Kristina.)

I couldn’t even remotely tell you what I said up there, but I know it was from the heart and that’s all I could really do. So everyone say congrats to Genesis and Tim.

The lead-up to the nuptials and post-nuptial weariness, followed by red eye back across the country, took up a lot of my mental space over the weekend, so here’s that newsletter I promised, albeit three days late.

This time I just want to show some love to the bag I’ve been using every single day since I got back to NYC a month ago (happy 1 month anniversary to me and new york, round 2). I think about bags a lot. I’ve been on the hunt for a really good one for some time, and it turns out there’s been one in front of my face for a while that was being neglected while I was in my WFH era. But since I’m in an office at least 4 days per week now, it’s become a very important piece of everyday life. The bag is the Conceal Tote from The Brown Buffalo.

I was lucky enough to be given this bag back when I was writing a lot of round ups and things. It was buried in a pile of other bags I had been checking out, so little did I know that I had a real gem here.

Let me start with my favorite thing about it: you can carry it in a ton of different ways. For me, a bag is only as good as its ability to be schlepped/toted/lugged/etc etc. It has an adjustable shoulder strap (with padding), tote handles, and stoawable backpack straps. When I took it as my personal item this past weekend, I backpacked it so that I could throw my duffel over my shoulder in the airport. For work, I usually use the shoulder strap for a crossbody moment that works great on a bike or the train, and when I’m heading down the block to write this here newsletter and the bag is light, I use the tote straps, which are the perfect length to hold without the bag dragging on the ground or hoist up onto the shoulder for a close-to-body carry position.

Next: the details are incredible. The zippers pull smooth and are all waterproof. There are little pockets and hidden places to stow things all over the bag, it has two water bottle pockets that EASILY fit a 32oz nalgene (a bottle which, for my money, is the best litmus test for a good water bottle pocket), a chest strap for when you wear it as a backpack, and a SICK magnetic fidlock buckle for the outermost pocket. It’s basically just super cool looking and somehow doesn’t make me feel like a hardo stolen valor dork even though it’s made with a hard-as-nails 1000D cordura multi-cam . (If i look like one, don’t tell me.) My background in commerce writing may fool you, but i swear to god i’m not hyperbolizing when I say you’d probably have a hard time cutting this thing with a pocket knife. (dammit i sound like a hardo stolen valor dork. I told myself the phrase “EDC” and anything related to it was off limits but here i am.)

Ok, this is getting wirecutter tedious so I’ll wrap it up. I really love this bag, its versatility, and, yes, the fact that it’s really tough and durable. dammit those mil-spec bros might be onto something.

Quick rec: got some new Magna magnesium electrolytes I really love. I’m not gonna wax poetic cuz they already blew a bag on an ad with the how long gone guys so go watch that on their instagram. Blue ice is a delicious flavor though.

And, finally, your music rec for the week:

Much love, but mostly to Tim and Genesis. See you this weekend.

PS here’s a pic of a really good slice of pizza i ate at Ops the other week (don’t be fooled i ate the whole damn pie).

FINAL REMINDER IF YOU’RE STILL HERE: I DON’T AND WILL NOT EVER USE AFFILIATE LINKS. ALL THOUGHTS ARE MY OWN. NEVER FEEL PRESSURE TO PAY TO SUBSCRIBE BUT IF YOU DO I’LL GIVE YOU A KISS.

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What I don’t think I love? One-bag living. (Ok, it’s two bags but one sounds better and better conveys my angst.)

Since I was a kid, I’ve kept a pretty well-stocked closet, to put it mildly. In high school, all of my hard-earned burger-flippin’ money (“hard earned” is a stretch but you get it) went to the only cool clothing store in town. I would get my check and go straight to the bustling, thriving Downtown Chico to spend my $$$ on Obey t-shirts, cardigan sweaters, and every color of Vans Authentics (back when they were only $40, damn, the good ol’ days). And that was just the start of my addiction. This pattern has ebbed and flowed over the years, but I’m still someone who values style above many other things. (Read: I still spend all my money on stuff).

So when I left for my sublease in NYC last month, I had to make what, for me, is a shit decision: What can I fit into two huge suitcases? I wasn’t going to drop $500 on additional luggage. What I could fit into my Delta-mandated check baggage was all I got in arguably the most brutal time for dressing in New York.

But I did it. And I’m in agony every day. But there’s also something pretty special about having a few staples that I can throw on every day with no thought. It’s not uniform dressing, but it is utility dressing, and I kind of like that. Over the years I’ve gotten better at “buy once, cry once” instead of impulse buying cheap fixes that I won’t like, but living in March in BK with just two suitcases worth of stuff is forcing me to adapt my thinking even further.

I’m not going to line-item my way through the closet for you guys, but I want to make note of a few things that are making it a bit easier for me to adjust to living with 1/8th of what I’m used to having at my disposal.

Brut Beiring Jacket

I wanted a Carhartt Detroit jacket, but as is my wont, I couldn’t bear having exactly what every other dude on Bedford Ave was wearing, so I bought this jacket from Paris-based Brut. It only looks sort of exactly like a Carhartt (I see the irony, ok). I first eyed it at their store in Paris last summer and decided to buy it when they dropped the price by $100 for Black Friday.

Anyway, I have been loving this jacket. It’s warm (enough) for most of the shit days we’ve had this March; it is just roomy enough to layer a sweater or a hoodie underneath; and it works great over a t-shirt, as well…not that I’ve really had the opportunity to rock just two layers yet. And I sprayed some Byredo on it at the Williamsburg store a couple of weeks ago and it the scent is still lingering…in a good way. This is the garment I’ve worn the most since I got here.

Snow Peak Recycled Wool Boa Pullover

Another workhorse is this half zip from Snow Peak. It is warm, has a perfectly boxy fit that easily slides on over a t-shirt or a button-down, and is still fitted enough to find a home under a jacket (which happens a lot these days).

The wool content isn’t quite as high as I’d like (58% wool/24% poly/18% nylon), but I’m not a hero. The poly and nylon add durability I appreciate, especially when my closet is running on fumes. I’m a Snow Peak apologist, and this is one of the best pieces of apparel I’ve ever had from them. I will not be putting it away any time soon.

Paraboot Montana

Finally, these stompers from Paraboot. This is technically cheating, because I bought these once I got here, but I realized I desperately needed a springproof shoe for the muck, so I bought once and cried once (these are the most expensive shoes I’ve ever bought). And I’m excited about them, so you’re hearing about them.

They felt impeccable right out of the box, and if I did my research right (I did), they’re going to last my entire life, making that sticker shock a bit easier to stomach. If you see me at any point in the next few months, I’ll be wearing these.

Ok, I could probably go on, but I’ll end it there for today. I just got a new Coros Pace 4 for testing, so that might be next week’s subject. I’m a Garmin hardo, so we’ll see how this new ecosystem suits me (or doesn’t).

Tunes for ya:

See you next week friends.

I’m starting today’s letter with a bit of chat about the new Arc’teryx Sylan 2 trail running shoe. The first Sylan was one of my favorite trail shoes over the past year or two—I even wrote a quick bite about it for Outside Magazine last summer. I ran on trails with it, ran on the road with it, and wore it on a backpacking trip near Mammoth.

Given my love for the first iteration, the anticipation for version 2 was killing me. So when I got the chance to snag a pair ahead of their release last week, I was pretty fired up. I’m recently back in New York City, so hitting the trails wasn’t exactly something I could do easily, but the Sylan actually thrives on mixed terrain. It’s not made for that, but I like wearing light trail shoes in NYC because you never know when you’re going to hit some wonky asphalt.

My first run in the Sylan 2 was my first run back here, so I threw ‘em on and ran up to McCarren Park, where I could put them through some multi-terrain testing. There was snow on the ground, some mud, some slushy shit, and broken concrete sidewalks, so it actually worked out (they felt nice on the track at McCarren, too). The lacing took some adjusting, as it does with most shoes. I have high arches and high-volume feet, so it’s always tricky. But once I got that dialed and tucked my knots into the lace garages, I was good to go.

The shoe was peppy—the rocker and supercritical foam midsole propelled me forward—and the bright green, while slightly ostentatious with the massive dead bird logo, looks pretty sick. I am not really in the zone enough to pick up the pace (coming off an injury) but the carbon plate gives a nice bit of propulsion, too. And, while there weren’t a lot of loose rocks or debris to put the knit collar to use, that was one of my favorite features of the OG Sylan, so I’m glad Arc kept it.

Anyway. I’m going to keep these short and sweet for now. I’m stoked to be back in New York and I’m sure there will be a debrief on that coming in the near future.

A sign off tune for ya. See you next week.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been white knuckling each day, begging myself to actually get started on that story, send that email, reply to that friend. Nothing is scarier than a blank Google doc. It just feels like a mountain I cannot climb. I can’t even call it Sisyphean, because as far as I know that guy actually started up the hill.

I know I can write a story in a few hours, send an email in a few minutes, and send a text in a few seconds, but for some reason, I don’t do it (ADHD, I suspect, but that doesn’t tell the whole story). There’s probably some fear in there, some anxiety, some dam I built that was supposed to yield energy and protection but ended up just killing the beautiful ecosystem downstream.

Trying to break that pattern has been the battle of my life lately. I pick up my phone, I scroll TikTok, I look at Instagram, and most of the stuff I see, I don’t even like. But oh damn that dopamine! ya know what I’m saying?

To stymie that impulse, I’ll periodically delete social media, pick out a book (hard copy, of course), and tell myself I’ll have a productive evening with no scrolling and I’ll feel better in the morning. That works for a night, or at least until I find myself on the toilet for an extended period of time. Do I download TikTok because it’s a long trip to the toilet or is it a long trip to the toilet because I downloaded TikTok? A real chicken or the egg situation. Anyway, I spend way too much time idling. And the thing about idling is, you’re not turned off and you’re not getting rest. The RPMs are still going, the engine revving ever so slightly, just enough to stay on edge. Did I send that email? Did that story turn out ok? I never even checked to see if it was published. Did they like it? Did people read it? Do people think I’m stupid? This is the long black train of thought that runs through my head most hours of most days, like the circular Christmas train track from hell. I’m the tree in the middle, unaware that I’m about to spontaneously combust.

A to-do list helps, but as someone who is unrelentingly scatterbrained, the to-do list is never complete. Or, at least, it feels like it’s never complete. I never feel like I’m doing the right thing at the right moment, because no single task has its moment, it’s just a bunch of moments and a bunch of tasks. Even a meticulously crafted Asana board can’t make sense of it (I’m disgusted with myself for making that reference, but the thing is, you’ll all get it). Another way to put it: if the first plane of the day is late, every plane that day is late — and some planes never even get to leave the airport. Then allllllllll of those flights get moved to tomorrow, and, well, you get the picture.

So now we arrive at little victories. When everything is difficult and my shoes can’t hold any more little fucking pebbles, I pick one little pebble and take it out. And, sometimes, that little pebble was actually a bowling ball and the relief is immense. If you’re a staller, a procrastinator, an ADHD’er, you know the feeling of checking off a task — especially if it took you forever to get to it. In some ways, to me, every task I check off is just what I was supposed to do — I’m just too stupid or lazy to have done it when I was supposed to. But that’s a foolish way to think. Jettisoning that pebble, doing that task, is a win. Each task is a victory and I am allowed to see it that way. I SHOULD see it that way. I’m not saying that every time I send an email I throw a victory parade, but I can tell myself, “Hey, that wasn’t so bad, you did it, you can do it again tomorrow.” And tomorrow, I think about how I did the thing yesterday, so I can surely do it again, and so on. Next thing I know, I’ve taken my creatine every day for a month and I’m yoked! Jk, I’m just carrying a bit more water, but my friends say the change will come. Right? RIGHT?

Anyway, here’s the deal: a little win, which can seem wholly insignificant in the grand scheme of things, can be the catalyst for a bunch of small wins. And a bunch of small wins is how you win the actual war. It’s like running a marathon. You run one 5k, then you run the next, then the next, and before you know it…you still have an entire half marathon to go…BUT, you have already completed one half marathon, and that’s pretty cool. (Don’t check my math on that.) Doing the thing that is excruciatingly horrible in the moment, which is probably something much easier than it became in my head, is the only way to push forward and check the next thing off the list. Pretty soon, I’ve banked a lot of wins, a lot of confidence, and I think eventually that means moving out of the bottomless pit of despair and into a world full of possibilities. I think I’m still in the pit, but for the first time in a while, I don’t feel like I’ll be there forever.

Tonight, I felt the urge to write something, I had 15 minutes to do it (45 now that I’ve gone back and edited it), so I sat down and fuckin’ did it. Me taking the opportunity to sit down and write this is a little win. And maybe reading this was a little win for you, too.

See you soon.

This week, I’ve got a 50k race report and a gear check for you.

32 Miles of Pain

I ran my second-ever 50k yesterday, the Malibu Canyon Trail 50k.

The out-and-back race meandered its way through the woodlands and chaparral of the Santa Monica Mountains, departing from the Ray Miller trailhead in Point Mugu State Park just a few miles north of Malibu. The course had nearly 5,000 feet of vertical gain across its 32 miles, most of which was earned across four individual climbs.

I ran the race with my friends Nelson and Reilly, a couple I met while doing a half-marathon program with Ryan Willms and the Mindful Endurance Program earlier this year. I signed up for the 50k ages ago, but my compatriots (aka my race day saviors) decided to race only after our half-marathon was done in April. Neither of them had ever run more than 18 miles in a single go, so a 50k was a tall order, but hey, we all just crushed our half-marathon PRs, so why not sign up for an ultra? I’m glad they did.

Low Mileage

Once the MEP program ended, I was fired up and ready to train for the 50k. The thing is, life gets in the way sometimes. I had a bunch of travel to do, I got sick, I was tired, blah blah. I’ve got a laundry list of excuses, some legit and some not so legit, but these are the facts: I did not run enough in the months leading up to this race. Part of it was circumstantial, part of it was the long-lasting high of beating my half-marathon PR by almost 10 minutes, and part of it was my penchant for half-assing things. Either way, now that it’s the day after the race, I can say that I went into this 50k feeling a bit too big for my britches — we summited Mt. Baldy last weekend with relative ease, and my body was feeling very strong, overall. Turns out that feeling strong and actually being strong aren’t the same thing. Oops.

Race Day

I live in Eagle Rock and Nelson and Reilly live on the west side of LA, so we decided to do a little sleepover at their place the night before the race to make carpooling the hour-ish drive up to Malibu a bit easier. My beautiful gf, Kate, joined us for a carb-loading sesh on Friday night (she wasn’t racing but needed the carbs for the marathon of driving she did on Saturday). After we scarfed down some rice, chicken, potatoes, and salad, Kate made her way home to hang with our pets. Nelson cranked the AC down to 68, I set up my air mattress in the office, and the three of us hit the hay for a 4:20 wake up call.

As the alarm buzzed at 4:20 the three of us took a bong hit and got the day started. (I wish.) Ok, in actuality, Reilly fired up the espresso machine and I tried my best to chug some ‘spro in hopes that I would actually poop before the race. Reader, I did not poop. (I never even had to go during the race, somehow.)

Once Nelson and Reilly had blown up the toilet, we all choked down whatever food we could and hopped into their Subaru, cruising up the PCH to the Ray Miller trailhead in Point Mugu park. I never have an appetite in the morning, so a bagel and peanut butter was all I could eat.

We parked a stone’s throw from the ocean on the PCH and walked to the trailhead, more concerned with a final porta potty visit than the actual race itself, and barely made it to the start line before the 10-second countdown.

Bottleneck

As is the case with most trail races, the beginning is a clusterfuck. All 100+ of us followed each other up the first climb, which lasted for about 2.5 miles. No issue for me, though, I love to go slow at the beginning. I heard plenty hemming and hawing from “fast” runners who wanted to pass people, but starting slow is really never a bad thing. Start at the front of the race if you’re going to complain about folks walking up the first climb. Sue me.

We hit the first aid station at 5 miles with no issues, made our way through some absolutely torturous junk miles (aka flat fire roads) to get to the second aid station, where we rummaged around in tins of potato chips, peanut butter sandwiches, and Skittles before heading up to the second climb, which was longer, more annoying, and did us no favors except to wear us out for the future miles and vert to come.

Halfway

The halfway aid station was helmed by the Potato Posse (or something like that). Mad props to the volunteers, who we couldn’t race without. We rolled into that station in a bit of pain but nothing too troubling; the goal was to eat as much food as possible without setting ourselves up for a puke fest over the next 5-8 miles. I took down some pickle juice, ate some turkey and avocado tortilla wraps, scarfed a handful of M&Ms, and watched a “hybrid athlete” puke in the bushes. And we were on our way. This is where the pain began.

The “Fuck This” Phase

This subheadline probably should have been used later in the report, but much like I was during the race, I’m running out of steam, so we’re going to move on a little bit.

After the halfway point, it was all pain. Remember when I said we were undertrained? Yeah, this is where we realized it. My toes hurt, my ankle hurt, my calves hurt, my quads hurt, my hammies hurt, my hips hurt, my back hurt. From now on, I’m definitely training, I told myself. (Time will tell.)

If you plan a 50k accordingly, I think the “fuck this” phase would start around 26 miles. For us, it started at 20 miles. Courtney Dauwalter talks about the pain cave, and boy oh boy did we spend some time there. We honestly don’t need to talk about miles 17-29 with too much detail, just picture me bitching and moaning, complaining, and just generally being a terrible fucking person. I wanted to cry, scream, and slap anyone who looked like they were in better shape than me. SORRY!

The last climb up from Aid Station 5 was basically a war of attrition. How far can we go without collapsing? My brain told me I was going to die, but somehow I didn’t die, I just got more sore. A handful of dark-chocolate-covered espresso beans revived me somewhat, but at this point, I just wanted to be done.

The Longest Descent of My Life

At this point in the race, descending hurt even more than ascending, so when we very slowly trudged over the top of the final peak and caught our first view of the finish, still a few miles and a few hundred feet below us, I was about ready to jump off the cliff rather than finish. But, you know, that’s a bad idea, so I resolved to absorb the pain and run my ass to the finish line. I’ve never run a longer descent.

It hurt. My groin was threatening to cramp, my calves were threatening to cramp, my glutes were threatening to fall off — oh and some guy who ran the 100k passed me on the descent to the finish. Nothing better! He fist bumped me with a cheery “you got this, man” and I smiled while also mentally reciting every curse word I could summon. For 20 minutes I ran down the hill, avoiding rocks and roots, cursing my swollen, numb left foot, and hoping that I didn’t keel over before I got to the end. I had long since taken off my Garmin, not able to bear the bad news I received every time I scrolled through its data screens, so I was loafing down the hill purely on vibes, hoping that the finish was closer than I expected.

It wasn’t.

But eventually I saw the tents and finish line come into view and calmed down slightly. I’d like to say I sped up at this point, but I simply could not. There was nothing that could make me go faster. If a mountain lion chose me as its lunch that day, I would have succumbed. I may have even asked it to eat me.

Of course the final turn into the finish was at a 180° angle, forcing me to stumble down the hairpin (yes I was still descending at this point) and hope for the best. I ambled across the finish line in six hours and fifty one minutes, shaving about 17 minutes off my previous 50k finish from last year. Kate was there, thank god, or else I may have just walked 200 more yards into the ocean and never looked back. Nelson, who had a wild, MRI-requiring knee issue, and Reilly, who ran 16 miles further than her previous longest run, finished moments after me. Without them, though, I think there’s no way I would have PR’d.

I’m running another 50k in September. Here’s to hoping that I can get some more training in for that one.

Gear Check

I know you are all clamoring for a gear check. Here it is.

Shirt: Satisfy AuraLite Tech T-Shirt

Shorts: Satisfy Rippy 3” Trail Shorts

Socks: Satisfy Merino Five-Finger Toe Socks

Hat: Ciele GOCap

Shoes: Norda 005

Vest: Salomon Adv Skin 5

Watch: Garmin Fenix 8

And lots of potato chips.

Last week I went to Italy for what was easily the best press trip of my life. The Diadora team invited me and a handful of other writers in the running space to check out their HQ and their small, beautiful made-in-Italy factory, where they make shoes by hand. BY HAND. in this economy? I know.

Anyway, I’m absolutely obsessed with prosecco — I drink it all the time. Who needs to wait for a celebration? As Ben Whishaw’s lonesome hitman character says in Black Doves (great show on Netflix), “If I only drank champagne when I was celebrating, I’d never drink it.” Not an exact quote, but you get it. Why wait to pop the bubbly when it actually just tastes amazing?

Did you know that extra brut is drier than dry?

Anyway, while I was in Italy, I got to run in the valley at the foot of the Dolomites dubbed “Run Valley,” the home of all the prosecco made in the world and the home of hand-made shoes for the mountains and sport. The views were beautiful, the pace was slow (though my fellow runners were all very fast) and I realized that I had to make some moves. Not only in my fitness journey, but in life. I’ve been stalling for too long. A marketing guy I admire said this a couple weeks ago, and it resonated:

Sometimes quantity is better than quality.

Being done is better than not being done at all. It doesn’t need to be perfect. It just needs to be out there.

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After a false start, I’m starting again.

A few years ago, I tried to start a Substack. I quickly gave up. Maybe it was work, maybe it was laziness…a lack of vision, a lack of belief in myself, all of these things affected me and like I am wont to do, I shelved the project.

I’ve been digging into some personal work over the past few months with Ryan Willms, and he’s been imbuing my life with nuggets of wisdom, a wealth of experience, patience, and more accountability than I’ve had in years. He’s told me that I should get back into this. I talk about it all the time, why not do it?

“I’m scared.” I tell him. (or at least, I think it. I might not quite say it so succinctly.)

Well, that’s bullshit, basically, and I just need to do it.

Here’s What This Will Be (for now)

I’ll be writing at least twice a week. I’m going to write essays about life, my mindfullness journey, running, all of it. I’m also going to write about gear I like, clothes I’ve been wearing, tv, movies, books, music. basically, whatever I’m into. But I can tell you it won’t be boring and it won’t be filtered (like much of my other writing must be). This might change, but for now I am committing to two posts a week. We’ll see what that ends up looking like. But come along for the ride! The discovery part of this is where the fun will be.

My First Recommendations

FILM: Last night I took a gummy and watched The Bourne Supremacy. Highly recommend doing this. (Follow me on Letterboxd, I beg of you.)

GEAR: I did my first run in the New Balance Fresh Foam X 1080v14 yesterday. I love them so far. They’re squishy, soft, and gave me absolutely no issues over eight miles.

TUNES: If you want something to listen to while you workout, listen to this album:

Thanks for joining me. This is going to be good.