Adventures
Sunday, June 15, 2025
For some people, attending church on Sunday morning is the spiritual space they need in their lives. I have never been one of those people, but I am someone who needs quiet, reflection and beauty to feel spiritually fulfilled. I find my spiritual space in the nature.
This morning, as the church bells atop North Park rang to signal 8am, I started out on the Green trail. It was foggy and humid, but once I got into the woods, the fog added a layer of mystery to the familiar trail.
As I moved from the Green trail to the Orange trail, I passed a father and young son just starting out on a Father’s Day hike. They were the only two humans I’d see on the trails this morning.
I love solo runs like this. They ground me in a way I presume church or religion does for others. I listen closely to the sound of my breath and the non-rhythms of my footfalls. My mind wanders wherever it wants to wander, much like my body in these trail running moments.
After an hour or so in this zen-like state, I emerged from the woods into the church parking lot refreshed, aware and at ease — a spiritual space those now entering the church will likely have in about an hour.
Wednesday, June 4, 2025
My friend Rob calls it my “no excuses jacket.” Every time I show up for a run when the weather is doing its worst—sleeting, pouring, or threatening something even more unpleasant—I’m wearing the same beat-up, greenish-yellow Marmot Precip jacket that’s been my constant companion for years.
It’s not the most technical piece of gear, and it’s certainly not the most stylish. But it has one quality that matters more than anything else: I trust it completely. Through Christmas Eve runs at -11 degrees, winter solstice adventures on the Rachel Carson trail in 18 inches of snow, and just last week when sheets of summer rain turned my morning neighborhood run into an impromptu swimming session, this jacket has never let me down.
The durability isn’t just about the fabric—it’s about the memories woven into every mile. This jacket has been with me through breakthrough runs and breaking points, through moments of clarity on quiet trails and the grinding determination of longer efforts. It’s become more than gear; it’s become a symbol of showing up.
But here’s what I’ve realized: the real power of the “no excuses jacket” isn’t protection from the elements. It’s protection from my own resistance to discomfort.
Weather is just the most obvious form of resistance we face. The cold whispers that it’s too harsh to go out. The rain suggests that maybe today isn’t the day. The wind argues that conditions aren’t ideal. My jacket doesn’t eliminate these conditions—it just gives me the confidence to move through them anyway.
This same principle has started showing up in other areas of my life, particularly in those moments that require a different kind of courage. Like having uncomfortable conversations with team members about performance issues. Or pushing back on a decision I disagree with in a leadership meeting. Or admitting I was wrong about a product direction we’ve been pursuing for months.
These situations don’t require literal weather protection, but they need the same kind of shield—something that helps me face discomfort rather than avoid it. Sometimes it’s preparation that serves as my jacket: spending extra time thinking through a difficult conversation before having it. Sometimes it’s a mindset: reminding myself that avoiding hard truths doesn’t make them disappear. And sometimes it’s simply the accumulated confidence that comes from having weathered difficult moments before.
This isn’t about toxic productivity or grinding through everything that feels hard. There’s a difference between productive discomfort and destructive suffering. The “No Excuses Jacket” philosophy is about being brave enough to engage with the things that matter, even when they feel uncomfortable. It’s about recognizing that the best runs often happen in the worst weather, and the most important conversations often happen when they feel the hardest to have.
The jacket reminds me that I have more capacity for discomfort than I usually give myself credit for. That the anticipation of harsh conditions is often worse than the conditions themselves. That showing up consistently, regardless of circumstances, builds a different kind of strength than any training plan could provide.
There’s something grounding about having a piece of gear—or a practice, or a mindset—that you trust completely. It becomes an anchor point, a reminder that you’ve faced uncertainty before and made it through. My beat-up Precip has become a tangible representation of the principle that we’re more resilient than we think, and that the best version of ourselves often emerges not in perfect conditions, but in spite of imperfect ones.
Saturday, May 10, 2025 →
Today marks my first double-digit run (10 miles) in more than 8 months. Grinding back, slowly and surely. The hip feels great.
Recovering from injury is hard both physically and mentally. There are good days and setbacks. Today is a good day. It feels great to be on my way back to form. 🏃🏻♂️
Friday, May 2, 2025 →
We’re headed into Marathon Weekend here in Pittsburgh. I’m not running this year, but I’m thinking about my experience running it in 2023 and how it is my most memorable running experience to date. Good luck to everyone lacing up and toeing the line on Sunday. The hay is in the barn…go get it!
Friday, April 25, 2025 →
I made the move from 28mm slicks to 30mm GravelKing tires on my Synapse. After the first few rides I really feel the drag when I’m on the road, but I also feel the increased grip when riding the trail. I might get another wheel set and keep 28’s on that one for quick change out based on the ride.
Saturday, March 29, 2025 →
Exploring Fell’s Point in Baltimore between soccer tournament games. Historic row homes, cobblestones and a killer farmer’s market. Super cool neighborhood.
Saturday, March 8, 2025 →
It’s been a crazy week visiting stores in SoCal. More on that later, but I did get to close it out with a chill hike from Griffith Park up into the hills above LA. Saw the Hollywood sign and a rattlesnake. Both firsts!
Tuesday, March 4, 2025 →
Yesterday was a travel day, but the REI store technology team made it to the SoCal market with some time to explore San Diego before we’re visiting stores the rest of the week. We dipped toes in the Pacific, explored Ocean Beach, watched the sunset at Sunset Cliffs, and ate some amazing tacos.
Saturday, February 22, 2025 →
Awesome day on the slopes with Elliott. High 20s. Bluebird skies.
Tuesday, December 24, 2024 →
‘Twas the night before Xmas and all through the gym, not a soul was bouldering except for him. When what to his wondering eyes did he see, a challenging problem — a holiday V3.
Thursday, December 19, 2024 →
It doesn’t seem like it, but ultrarunning is a team sport. This new film from Adidas highlights the importance of a solid crew during an ultra. Shoutout to my crew chief, Nic, who’s gotten me across numerous finish lines & also helped steer decisions to DNF when that was the safest choice.
Sunday, December 15, 2024 →
As someone who’s relatively new to bouldering, one of the mental hurdles I need to get over is trusting my toeholds. It’s hard for me to believe a toe edge will support me as I get higher up on problems. I’ve been focusing on this the past few sessions and it’s helping tremendously.
Sunday, December 8, 2024 →
📍 Monument Circle, Indianapolis, IN, USA
Saturday, December 7, 2024 →
I suppose now is as good a time as any to let y’all know that he committed to Penn State. University Park next fall. Class of ‘29. #WeAre
Tuesday, December 3, 2024
I recently stumbled upon this post from Andy Jones-Wilkins about aging & running, and it prompted me to reflect on my own experience as a 40-something runner.
Needless to say, I’m not as speedy as I once was and my body needs longer & more frequent recovery than it did even just a couple years ago. The repetitive motion and high-impact is starting to wreak havoc on my joints and tendons. It’s taken a long time, lots of soul searching and some avoidable injuries, but it’s a truth I’ve come to accept embrace. The fact that I can’t crush 10 milers seven days a week or jump into a random marathon on a few days notice anymore has opened up a variety of new options for me to stay engaged with my physicality on a daily basis.
The most notable non-running activity I’ve grown to love is bouldering. I find it to be fundamentally different than running, however it requires a similar mindset. Bouldering and running are equally mental and physical challenges. And in my opinion, the mental challenges are always more interesting problems to solve. In running and climbing there will be times when you want to quit or bail, but mental strength will get you through.
Of course, as I get older, cycling also plays a bigger role in my life due to its low-impact cardio benefits. We’re lucky to have a great trail system here in Pittsburgh, upon which I can bike commute when I can’t work from home. I’m not a fan of riding roads due to safety issues, so the trail system is clutch and allows for some epic rides. One of these summers I want to bike pack from Pittsburgh to Washington DC on the Great Allegheny Passage.
I’ve never been into lifting weights or getting swole, but lowering my running mileage has afforded me the opportunity to begin a strength training routine. I mostly stick to bodyweight (pushups, sit-ups and pull-ups) and kettlebell/mace exercises but I’m really feeling the benefits. I feel lighter on my feet. I feel like I have more agency in my movements.
I still think of myself as primarily a runner. I’m out there 4-5 days a week now, with notably lower mileage. And for the first time in a long while, I feel absolutely wonderful when I finish a run. That’s the point of all this, right? Embracing the changes that come with aging requires work, but it’s work I’m excited to take on and continue as a practice.
Friday, November 22, 2024 →
First snow run of the season in the books! As we say here in Pittsburgh, it was a bit slippy. It started off like running through a gentle snow globe, then turned into an icy blast chiller to the face. I love this time of year to get out and feel nature.
Thursday, October 17, 2024 →
It was a chilly bike commute this morning. The temp read 39º F when I set off from the Millvale trailhead. Beanie and gloves were a must at the start. By the time I neared the Hot Metal Bridge, the full sun confronted me. Beanie came off. I unzipped the nano puff and it flowed like a cape.
Wednesday, October 9, 2024
Running trails in Western Pennsylvania in the Fall can be glorious. Crisp temperatures, bright sun and fall colors combine to create ideal running conditions. That said, hitting the trails this time of year can also be somewhat treacherous. The changing leaves are beautiful, but the falling leaves cover the single track, concealing the rocks and roots underfoot.
I’ve been running in this area for years, and I know this. As I was cruising the White trail in North Park yesterday, a hidden rock caught my toe and I went down hard. Head first. Superman style. The fall left me with a nice gash on my knee and trail rash on my shin, hip and forearm. My right side, which took the brunt of the impact, is quite sore today.
Luckily I’ve learned how to fall to minimize significant harm. Had I not ‘tucked and rolled,’ this one could have been much worse. Broken wrist, probably. A fall like this comes with the territory of trail running, and is a good reminder to stay present and mindful with footfalls this time of year in the northeast.
Tuesday, September 17, 2024 →
I think fall is absolutely the best season for trail running here in western Pennsylvania. This morning I ran party pace on the orange loop in North Park, starting at the church and cruising through the sunbeams as they pierced through the trees.
Tuesday, September 10, 2024 →
Absolutely primo bike commute today. Crisp air and full sun. Almost bailed on work and kept peddling.
Monday, September 2, 2024 →
We took advantage of the spectacular weather in Western Pennsylvania today and made a day trip to Ohiopyle, a cool little adventure town located about 75 miles southeast of Pittsburgh on the Yougiogheny River. Lots of hiking, biking and whitewater to enjoy there.
Friday, August 30, 2024
We have some pretty technical trails here in Western Pennsylvania and I’m usually reliable for a good fall every few months. In my mind, it goes with the territory of running on top of rocks, roots and mud. Even the best and most accomplished trail runners bite the dust. It’s been quite some time – over a year I think – since I’ve taken a digger on a run, but today was my day!
I’ve been getting out early, pre-dawn with a head torch, and pushing my pace on some faster, shorter jaunts. Today, however, I decided at the start that I’d take a relaxed route and go super easy.
The first mile was awesome. Air was a warm 67º F and it hasn’t rained in a week so the trails were perfection. Feeling excellent, I entered the section of North Park’s red trail where the tall pines pierce the sky like wooden daggers.
Then I felt it. You know what I’m talking about. I felt my toe catch on an object underfoot and everything went into slow motion. In no particular order all of the following rushed through my brain prior to my hitting the ground:
- Was that a rock or a root?
- I wonder if I can save this?
- Nope, not gonna be able to save this.
- Oh man, this is a rocky section of trail.
- Shit, this is gonna hurt.
- How should I land? Brace with hands or tuck-n-roll?
- When is the last time I fell? I can’t remember.
- Ground approaching, prepare for impact.
- FUUUUU….
And then it was over. There I was, layed out in the wooded darkness, headlamp shining vertically up into the emerging sky, with a mouthful of trail. I spit out the dirt, brushed myself off and took a moment to assess my condition.
All good. Nothing broken. No blood. All I have to show is a few scratches on my knee and elbow, and a bruised ego. Hopefully I’m good for at least a year until the next one.
Tuesday, August 20, 2024 →
A crisp, cool, fall-like bike commute this morning. Thankful to not be sweating profusely when I got there. Bring on Fall!
Saturday, March 23, 2024
This past weekend on March 17, I ran what has become my favorite trail race: The Rabid Raccoon Midnight Half Marathon. It’s one of several distances – 100M, 100K, 13.1 morning & 13.1 midnight – offered by Wolf Creek Race Management under the Rabid Raccoon banner. The concept is simple: Show up at midnight and run 13.1 miles through the woods in complete darkness while dealing with serious elevation, unpredictable weather conditions and sleep deprivation. How awesome is that!
My first experience with this race was last year in 2023. Temperatures were brutal, 19º at the start and 13º at the finish. My water froze within the first few miles, the course was extremely challenging, and after running for a few hours in the woods I was pretty close to hypothermic. But I persevered and finished in the top ten.
So when registration opened up for the 2024 race, I had to toe the line again.
There were some changes implemented this year, however. The race location was moved to Brady’s Run, a quaint community park located in Beaver Falls. The race was also changed to a half-marathon, when in previous years it was a 20 miler.
Having done a bit of recon with Rob a few weeks ahead of time to understand the course, I made a couple mental notes and developed a simple strategy for my race:
- The first ~5 miles are pretty flat and take place on a mix of road, crushed limestone, grass and jeep trails. I planned to take these quickly, but not red line. If I could keep these miles at or just under 8-minute miles, I thought I’d be in good pack position going into the single track with enough gas to push my tempo for the remaining 8 miles.
- There are three significant climbs on the course: mile 5, mile 9 and mile 11. I planned to be conservative on the climbs and then bomb the flats & downhills. It is all downhill for the last 2 miles after the final climb at 11. If I kept enough gas in the tank to open up the throttle on those final 2 miles, it could be a very strong finish.
Toeing the line this year was a very different experience than last year. First of all, temperatures were in the 50s (balmy!) with showers slated for just after midnight. Second, the start and finish lines were inside the Brady’s Run recreation center, which gave people a nice place to hang out before and after the race.
About five minutes before midnight, Rob and I entered the starting corral with 121 other runners. After some pre-race announcements and the national anthem, the airhorn sounded and we were off.
Out of the gate I hung with the middle of the pack in order to settle into a groove. After about a quarter mile, I looked at my watch and noticed we were cruising at about a 9 minute mile. I decided to pick it up to 7:45 and this started to create some separation from the pack. At this time it looked that there were about 10 runners ahead – 3 or 4 way out front (probably running sub-7) and 5 or 6 within striking distance.
I held strong and reserved at 8:15 through the first 2.5 miles and picked off 2 or 3 runners during that road section. At mile 2.5 there was a small climb to another 2.5 miles of jeep trail. Once on the jeep road, I was surprised to find flow again right at 7:45. This is where it started to get muddy; there were some splashy sections and some peanut buttery sections. Between mile 3 and 5, there was a guy drafting me, breathing super heavy. I got a sense he was pushing pretty hard to keep up.
The Breather and I ran together all the way to the mile 5 climb. My strategy was to power hike the three major climbs so once we were on the first, I settled into a driving power hike. The Breather had different intentions so I let him pass and he continued to run up the incline.
With The Breather now pulling away from me, I found myself in the situation I remembered from the previous year: just me – alone – in the middle of the woods, in the middle of the night.
At the top of the hill, I kicked it back into gear and settled into a moderate trail pace over the flowy single track. I basically ran the next 8 miles completely alone, except for some 100-milers who were in the zombie phase of their adventures.
There was a great stream crossing just before the mile 9 climb. I remembered this stream from the recon run with Rob, but was surprised to find it as high as it was. The water was up to my thigh at one point.
The climbs at 9 and 11 went as planned but the rain started somewhere along the way and the mud was getting progressively worse. There was one section on the final climb where I was literally calf-deep in mud and thought my Lone Peaks were going to get sucked off my feet. Quicksand-type stuff.
As I neared the top of the final climb, I saw some headlamps ahead. Still feeling good and with only 2 miles left, I turned on the jets. I saw myself gaining on one of the runners ahead who was walking. It was The Breather! I took him pretty quickly and locked in on two more headlamps ahead.
By this time I was pushing pretty hard and I didn’t seem to be gaining on the two runners ahead. I kept pushing but never caught them. They must have saved some juice for their kick as well. The final descent to the rec center and finish line was pretty dicey with all the mud and rain, but I traversed it without issue and sprinted inside to finish the race in 2 hours 6 minutes. I placed 6th overall.
I love this race and recommend it to anyone who enjoys unique experiences and challenges in their adventures. Kudos to Wolf Creek on the success. I’ll definitely be back next year and will likely make this an annual tradition moving forward.
Monday, May 8, 2023
On this #MedalMonday, I’m posting an update for all of you who donated to to my Pittsburgh Marathon Run for a Reason cause, UPMC Children’s Hospital Foundation.
TL;DR: It was not my day time-wise, but it became – hands down – my most memorable and meaningful race.
The first 15 miles were perfection. I felt great, held to my target pace and kept up with my nutrition. Then at mile 16, my legs started cramping and I knew I was in for a long haul for the remaining 10 miles. Between 16 and 19 my pace slowed significantly. I could run for a bit, but then my legs would seize and I’d need to stop and work out the cramps.
My family was positioned at 19 to spectate. When I saw them, they knew I was struggling. The First Aid volunteers at 19 gave me two syringes of sodium chloride to help with the cramping and I was seriously considering dropping.
While talking it through with First Aid, I saw my son Elliott stretching out his quads. He then came over and said in so many words, “You’re not dropping. I’ll run you in. Let’s do the last 7 together.”
So we did. We went slow and I suffered. But he kept my spirits up and motivated me to push forward, even offering to put some Goggins clips on repeat (Stay Hard!). Those last 7 were the most meaningful miles I’ve run to date. It wasn’t pretty, but we got it done.
Very poetic too, that I was fundraising for Children’s Hospital, which cared for Elliott the first few days after he was born. All in all, we raised more than $1,600 for UPMC Children’s Hospital. Thank you to everyone who donated. Your support means so much.