With gas prices in Montana hitting a whopping $3.48 a gallon my guzzling little truck is parked. Living just a tad too far out of the center of town makes walking, my favorite means of transportation, an activity for days when time is excessive (a rarity). So, I bike. To and fro work, the grocery, to visit friends, you name it. And I do much of it with my two dogs running alongside on leash.

“I’m Jim,” says the guy standing next to me, pulling his goggles onto his head and leaning against the wall. “It’s a tough workout, toughest your first day,” he reassures me in a tone that makes me realize that he knows.

The trail is steep and winding through the woods. I ascend the first hill out of breath, pouring sweat, miles deep into a phenomenal run. As I start heading down slope pain shoots from my hips down my legs, so I shorten my stride, slowing down, trying to run through it.

Einstein defined insanity as “doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.” I’m heading out for a run right now in the snow, again, fourth time this week. Hoping to be better, stronger, faster than the day before. Totally nuts.

Here we are in the New Year. The beginning. A chance to start anew. The first day of the rest of life. OK, that is perhaps a little dramatic, but I do like the idea that all of the ick in my life– physical, mental, emotional, financial –are a thing of the […]

Winter has historically been my favorite time of year, but between the on-again-off-again snow, slush, and springtime phases of what seems like a season in crisis, it is beginning to fall in the ranks. There is not enough snow to ski in town, but just enough to twist an ankle running trails.

Living in the banana belt that is the Missoula valley is a little challenging in the winter. Snow comes, snow goes. And when it goes, it is hideously, nastily, grossly, mucky, slushy, muddy, goo, for entirely too long. These conditions make for a hellish experience in trying to do anything. Still, […]

Originating in Scandinavia, and literally meaning “ski-driving,” skijoring combines cross-country skiing with dog mushing. As a seasoned veteran of the sport, my involvement has evolved from casual to slightly obsessed.

As I waddled down the street last winter bundled to my eyeballs, during Missoula’s annual subzero spell (with temps somewhere around - 40), warm, snug, cozy and comfortable, I couldn’t help but give thanks to the fowl that gave up so much for me to enjoy that particular moment in my life.

It’s that time of year. Days are short, nights are long. Its daunting to get up and get out in the morning darkness and then turn around and do it again in the evening. Even still, it’s been my routine for the last ten years and I’ve always done it with dogs.