Every now and again, you’ve got to s***-can the straight and
narrow, say lah-de-dah to your worldly
responsibilities and do something hare-brained, off kilter and fun.
Two years ago, I traveled halfway around the world to take
part in Transvulcania, a 50-mile race in the Canary Islands. It reduced me to
tears, left my feet swollen to the size of footballs, and provided me with the
incomparable experience of running up and over a volcano with a bunch of crazy
Spaniards. Last year, I flew to Yellowknife in Northern Canada to trot along 30
miles of ungroomed trails on snowshoes. Beat to death, I quit two-thirds of the
way through but I’ll never forget the experience of standing in the middle of a
frozen lake without another living soul in sight.
You really ought to try it.
