Miles to Go, Thoughts to Gather

There’s something about the rhythm of running that clears the mind. Some days, the miles feel effortless, carried by the steady cadence of breath and the rhythmic sound of shoes meeting the pavement. Other days, every step is a struggle, each mile a test of patience. But even on those tough days, something shifts. The mind quiets, the body finds its rhythm, and suddenly, I remember this is why I run. The crisp morning air, the hush before the world wakes up, the small but satisfying victory of putting one foot in front of the other—these are the reasons I keep going, whether in the quiet mornings of the weekend or the steady rhythm of afternoon runs after work.

Yesterday, I ran ten miles—the longest I’ve run since December’s Ted Corbitt 15K. It wasn’t fast, but it felt good. The kind of good that reassures me I’m on the right path for the NYC Half Marathon. Training isn’t always linear; I’ve learned to embrace the slower miles, the setbacks, and the days when progress feels invisible. But then a run like this comes along—a reminder that every mile, whether fast or slow, easy or hard, adds up.

Lately, I’ve been finding a similar rhythm in hiking. The trails offer a different kind of challenge—the slow, steady climbs, the unpredictable terrain, the way the landscape demands presence. The Tour du Mont Blanc is on my horizon, a trek that will test my patience and endurance in new ways. With every run and every hike with friends, I’m building strength, mile by mile, trusting that the effort will pay off.

Gear plays a part in this journey, too. My Garmin watch has logged every mile, quietly keeping pace through training cycles and race days. I don’t check it constantly, but it’s always there—a silent witness to the work I’ve put in. My running shoes have carried me through long training runs, and when the road feels endless, a handheld water bottle tucked into my palm is a small but necessary comfort. After a long run or a steep hike, stretching out sore muscles with a massage tool has become part of my routine, almost meditative in its own way.

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on how running and hiking shape the way I think. The time spent moving—whether logging miles on the road or trekking with friends—allows thoughts to settle in ways they don’t during the rush of daily life. Books like Quiet by Susan Cain remind me that stillness—whether in a pause at a mountain summit or during a cooldown after a run—isn’t about doing nothing; it’s about creating space for clarity. And in Let Your Mind Run by Deena Kastor, I’ve found inspiration in the way mindset shapes endurance, both on the road and beyond it.

Every mile is part of a larger journey. Some are measured in time, some in distance, and some in quiet realizations that only come when you’re moving forward. Wherever the next adventure leads—whether it’s a marathon, a mountain trail, or simply another morning run—it’s all part of the same rhythm. One step, then another.

What’s a piece of gear, a book, or a routine that has shaped your running, hiking, or travel experience? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments.