Let me take you on an average run in Ulaanbaatar. It is not without many obstacles and challenges.

I leave the complex where I live, passing by the guard shack and out of my protective living quarters. I live right in the centre of the city so I have to carefully watch traffic as I cross over to the other side of the street.

Apparently, Ulaanbaatar is the third most polluted city in the world and I am reminded of this as I cross over the busiest bridge in the city, inhaling car exhaust and the occasional coal smoke from trains that pass underneath. Crosswalks have no purpose in the city as drivers continue to drive where and when they please, ignoring pedestrians hoping to cross over to the other side. So I have been quite skilled at dodging cars and weaving through traffic.

The next challenge is the terrain of the city. When I’m not hurdling open manholes I am carefully negotiating the rocky, uneven ground. Sidewalks are often broken and one bridge has holes in the walkway, as well as wobbly bricks.

The terrain is not the only challenge. On any given day, drivers passing by entertain themselves at my expense. Sometimes I am yelled at from open car windows. Sometimes bottles (or even what seems like buckets) of water are tossed on me. Once while passing by a traffic jam I saw some people roll down their windows to either spit or blow cigarette smoke in my face. Lovely, eh! I have even had cars drive right for me, resulting in running me off the road completely.

The weather can also be quite a challenge. There are days when I must go for a run. Marathon training requires such commitment. One day this spring, about 2 weeks ago, I ventured out into a snow storm. Snowflakes stabbed my eyes as I tried to complete 8km. Spring also brings sandstorms, which can appear without warning. Most days I return from my long runs covered in dust and dirt.

Yes, this must all seem very unwelcoming. You may be wondering why I even bother. I have the heart of a runner. That involves passion and dedication, regardless of the conditions. I won’t let fear stand in the way of something that I love. I have goals, like completing a marathon in Asia (as well as the other 6 continents) and consider all of the challenges of running in Ulaanbaatar a part of toughening me up. I do take measures to ensure my safety. I am vigilant and plan ahead. I also listen to my gut.

It’s not always bad. There are days when kind Mongolians honk happily and cheer me on from their cars as they pass. Sometimes I get a genuine clap from others who pass me on their early morning walk. I like to focus on those moments rather than the others. Looking for the humour in situations can help as well. When I think back to the day when some boys threw rocks at me, I can’t help but laugh. I bet they didn’t expect me to stop and pick up my own stash of rocks and aim right for them.

Last week was the calves. This week it’s the quads.

Kristen and I travelled to Thailand last December for our winter holiday. Three weeks to escape the dry freeze of Mongolia. I considered this trip a re-do for my trip two years ago. A trip that hadn’t turned out as I had hoped or planned. Traveling with my bestie would make it a completely new experience and I was looking forward to every part of it.

The sunshine and warmth was a welcome change, but the lack of daylight hours and the fact that I was in hot weather in December felt odd. We would relax on the beach in the afternoons but found those afternoons too short for sun-catching. That and the fact that the rainy season was extended were the only downsides of the weather. Warm ocean, the smell of thai food and the feel of of warm breeze were welcomed early Christmas presents to myself. This is the joy that comes from living overseas and having access to warm, foreign lands. Oh Thailand!

My poor calves haven’t been too happy with all this running. I thought that I would eventually feel better once my body got used to the added mileage but the adjustment period has taken longer than I thought. Perhaps the added hill and lack of stretching this week hasn’t helped too much. Two days of rest and a long run tomorrow. Fingers crossed I’ll make it.

My Sunday long run did not go well.

I began my day focused entirely on preparing for my long run. I had it mapped out on gmap-pedometer.com (excellent resource, what would I do without you, my friend?) and ate a satisfying breakfast. I was just about to change for my run when I heard my cell phone ring. Three missed calls? Really? That’s odd…OMG, I was meant to meet my colleagues for a brunch meeting regarding Earth Month. I was already 10 minutes late. I’m usually so good with remembering things and being on time. I rang them and told them I’d be only 10 minutes. I scurried to dress myself in my running gear, ran out the door and was with them in a flash (sweating and out of breath). After a great meeting  I was off to complete my goal of 20 km. I didn’t go far before I felt the aching in my calves. They have been a huge problem since I’ve stepped up my training. Not long after that I was feeling the rest of my lower body aching. I wasn’t moving very fast and was hoping to fall into a rhythm at some point. It didn’t happen and by the 13th km I was really hitting a wall. I realized that I hadn’t prepared myself properly. I didn’t bring any sharkies (http://www.sharkiesinc.com/) and was dying of dehydration. I decided to stop at a shop and have a Gatorade in the hopes that I might feel energized to finish my 20km. As luck should have it, no Gatorade to be found so I had to down an extremely sugary Snapple. I will not do that again. The label must have been wrong or my taste for sugar has changed. It was obscenely sweet. Yuck! So off I went, barely running, and made it home finishing a respectable 17km. Not the long run I was after but a long run nonetheless. I’ve learned my lesson. Next time I will be more prepared. Sharkies and money for water. I’m aiming for 22km this Sunday. Fingers crossed. Ran home from work today, incorporating a hill to help strengthen my legs, and finished 8km in the warmest weather we’ve had this spring. It must have been about 10 degrees. First day without the winter running clothes. Liberation feels good.

 

Has it really been five months since my last post? Ah well, I’m back now and have more motivation to write now than I did last fall. I have been on many adventures, had my ups and downs. Some really big ups and downs actually. Perhaps I’ll share them with my loyal readers some day. For now I want to share my current status regarding my running. Somehow, some day I decided that one of my life goals was to run a marathon on every continent. I met a couple at the Gobi Marathon last September who was doing just that, except they were attempting to complete 7 marathons on 7 continents within one year. Incredible. I’m not as eager to complete them in that frame of time but to start this summer would be great. So I’ve begun to train for my very first marathon. I still question if I’m too crazy to complete a marathon this June. Nevertheless, I’m in. Forty-two kilometres this June. I have 10 weeks to get ready for this massive feat. So this has been my first official week of training. I did run 19km last Sunday which was reassuring. Monday I rested, Tuesday I ran 10km with Mike (my marathon training partner and one of my besties), but unfortunately I didn’t run on Wednesday, Thursday or Friday. Not such a good week actually. Today (Saturday) I ran 8km with Mike and tomorrow I plan a long run. Last weekend I finally cracked down and wrote up a training schedule:

Monday – Rest

Tuesday – Shorter run usually around 8km

Wednesday – Around 13km run

Thursday – Shorter run usually around 8km

Friday – Rest

Saturday – Short run around 7km

Sunday – Long Run

This is just a rough outline of what my weeks are going to look (and feel) like. I intend to log my problems, pain and progress through this blog. It’s my first marathon so I’m a newby and this could be quite entertaining. For me, I hope it isn’t too painful. Stay tuned…

After a hectic start to a new school year I took the opportunity to venture south to the remote aimag (province) of Mongolia called Omnogovi to do something crazy: run a half marathon in one of the most remote deserts in the world.

Some people come into your lives and you can’t help but feel that the timing is perfectly ideal. An incredible man named Stuart entered my life this past June as he travelled through Mongolia, and having originated from Australia I had wondered what the chances would be for seeing him again. When one ‘free spirit’ meets another ‘free spirit’ it doesn’t take too long for some crazy plans to be made. Stu booked his flights and was planning to join me for 2 weeks in Mongolia, including a weeknd in the Gobi Desert. He is, perhaps, crazier than me and registered to run the full marathon (42km).

After a delayed take-off, I was praying to stay safe on my domestic 30-seater plane to Dalanzadgad. It would take about an hour and twenty minutes, over rugged, barren land. We touched down safely (though I was breathing deeply) and drove about 100km to our ger camp, only stopping to shoot some pics of your classic domesticated Bactrian camels.

We arrived at our ger camp and I was pondered the degree of quality that we might be in for. Little did I know that it was considered a “luxury” ger camp and we were greeted with milk (though I was not enthusiastic to receive, but did receive it as part of cultural custom – only touching it to my lips) and the keys to our own, comfortable, ger. The beds were adorned with proper duvet covers and the furniture and floors were quality. It wasn’t until after I visited the showers and washrooms that I really classified it as a luxury camp. The wait staff were polite and the food was more than decent. It was an ideal desert oasis accommodation for the weekend “temporary insanity” that we, along with about 50 others, would partake in.

On Saturday we decided to visit a nomadic family’s ger and, somehow, we ended up riding on their camels for a small price. While we waited for the camels to be retrieved I sat in a ger and “spoke” with the mother of the family. Through my broken Mongolian I found out that she had given birth to seven children, many who lived in Ulaanbaatar. She called me “cute” and was interested in my run in the desert.

On Sunday, the race was on. The first 5km of my race was in soft sand. Brutal! I powered through but it wasn’t too long before I realized that it wasn’t going to be so enjoyable. My ‘mental’ was trying to focus on enjoying the scenery but all I could smell was camel stench and feel the soft ground under me, preventing me from pushing forward to the end. By the 12th km I was only trying to keep one foot in front of the other. But the 8th km from the end – and it was apparent that the rest of the race would be uphill – I was only trying to keep swinging my arms in hopes that it would help me to cross the finish line. Once I finished I was alarmed at how much pain I felt in my feet. Though my shoes were properly worn in and I had no apparent blisters, the muscles in my feet were aching beyond anything I had felt before. The only respite was to continue walking on them. Once I stopped my eyes began to water and I felt horrid. What made it worse was that Stu and I couldn’t get into our ger because the van that had my bag, that had my fleece, that held my key , was the last van to sweep the last of the marathon runners. Yes, that meant that we had to wait until everyone was finished running to get into our ger. The upside to it all was that by the time we got our key the shower water was hot. HEAVENLY!

Stu was a machine and finished second in the marathon. I finished 4th female. in the half marathon, perhaps 7th overall. There is nothing like the feel of a long run to help one enjoy a few (okay, six) cold beers. I hardly ever drink anymore but those beers were enjoyed thoroughly.
Its was Stu’s 32nd birthday and the staff at our camp were sweet enough to bake him his own cake, adorned with a birthday candle. Special!

The next day, though showering with rain, was serene to me. I was feeling pleasantly sore from my run and still high on endorphins. There is something quite magical about spending time in a spectacularly  remote place and the impact it has on the spirit.

It was an experience to always treasure.

It’s been a while since my last post and the reason for that is my busy trip back to North America. One of the best perks of being a teacher is our summer holidays. Especially nice for a teacher who lives overseas and needs all that time to reconnect with loved ones.

(*Deep breath in*)…So on July 15th I was back on a plane (or two) for my thirty-something hour long journey back to the “western world”. A week with my younger sister and nephew in Ontario, then two weeks in Texas with my mother, stepfather and older sister, then back up to Toronto where I transfered to another flight out east to see my father, stepmother, stepbrother and half sister for a week, then back to Ontario to spend my last few days with my younger sister and nephew again before flying another thirty-something hours back to Mongolia with a 14 hour long stopover in Seoul (*phew*). Sounds exhausting right? Well that’s how it works with how I’ve got it and it works for me. Five weeks just wasn’t enough time to visit – and I mean good, quality visit – with those I care about. Not enough time with my family and definitely not enough time with my dear friends who I treasure greatly. It was so hard saying goodbye, and soon after I was saying “hi”. That’s the worst part about following my dreams of living abroad: the goodbyes to those back home.

So I arrived back in UB last Saturday night and I was expecting to fall back into everything easily seeing it is my third year now. However, frustration soon found me as I tried to run the next day and found myself jaded, unable to run at the same performance level as I had been doing in Canada. Was it the change in altitude (from 164m to 1284m)? Was I just tired from my journey (35 hours)? Was it that I was jet lagged (12 hour time difference)? Perhaps, all of the above. Try again tomorrow, I thought. Another day readjusting to being back can only help. So I tried again on Monday. This time it was worse. I couldn’t even run continuously. I had to walk, WALK! I haven’t had to do that in years. What was wrong with me??? Again, I convinced myself that the long journey can be very hard on the body and to allow myself to readjust. Unfortunately when it comes to my running these days, I am pretty determined to improve my performance so my patience is waning.

I am so passionate about travel and love it when I get to do it but I often forget the affect it has on the body. This trip back is a solid reminder. Sleep is your best friend, as well as melatonin (traveler’s staple), and patience. The latter is what I’ll be working more on from now on.

To run in Ulaanbaatar is quite a risky adventure. For one, there is pollution. I am pretty certain that cars are not expected to pass any sort of emissions test and most busses spew black smoke, which can probably be attributed to the fact that they are all hand-me-downs from Korea. The trains also spew black smoke, and I mean A LOT of BLACK smoke into the air on a daily basis. So the air is obviously a problem. This can be avoided by running on the roads along the river, out of the city centre. However, getting there is a game of chicken with assertive drivers who have no concern for pedestrians. So you think you can handle the dirty air and dangerous drivers? Well, look out for the open man holes. There are a lack of lids covering up those death traps. Quite hazardous for those running (or walking) on the sidewalks.

Lately I have had a few run-ins with cars trying to turn left or right and right into me. “Really? REALLY?” I say but they don’t care. Though I’ve been here for two years already that is not something I can get used to. What is the positive side? Well I think that I am now a very vigilant runner and have learned to don my angry face when I leave the house. “Hoi! Watch it!”

Okay, so I have decided to stop labeling each entry as “photo #..” and, instead, have decided to label them as “tales”. My blog is titled “tales of a vagaBond,” which makes it more appropriate.

So on to my next tale then….

I am continuing with my Beijing experience…

China is known for it’s unique cuisine. Anyone who knows about Chinese culture knows that the Chinese eat almost anything and everything, including insects, animal organs and even reproductive parts. So it was only assumed that we would find where these food options were sold and do some taste testing ourselves.

We joined some fellow hostel dwellers and ventured down the road to the night market in the shopping district. There was a street lined with food stalls and intrigued tourists. There was a lot of seafood: oysters, shrimp, lobster and even sea horse and baby shark. Some other ‘delicacies’ on offer were centipedes, scorpions and sheep testicles. Most tourists passing by were only offering curious gazes but we were offering money…

First I tried a garlic covered oyster. Not very adventurous but I was only warming up.

Then I thought I’d try what I came to try: scorpion. Kristen agreed to do it with me. A real feat considering she is a strict vegetarian and lover of all living things. It was deep fried so it didn’t taste like much more than grease. Nothing to daring except for a stab in the lip as I was feeding it to myself.

I joined some of the boys in trying a pig liver sandwich. I was glad to only share that with someone as it wasn’t anything too exciting. More grease.

Kristen found some sea mushrooms and I joined in eating those with her.

The most daring (and, perhaps, hardest to eat) was sea urchin. I watched as it was cracked open and the inside was scraped.

I was offered a spoonful and thought to myself that it couldn’t be that bad.

It tasted like sea water jelly. The texture was soft and slid down my throat.

I kept tasting that baby for a while.

It was an adventurous evening and I was glad that I had the nerve to step outside of my comfort zone and try something new.

This is why I travel.

Trying something new and going beyond what is considered “normal” is what life is all about.Experiencing new “food” and sharing a laugh with new friends from another country brings joy that can only be experienced by a true traveller.

Experiences like the night in Beijing remind me why I have chosen the life of a ‘vagabond’.

I am happy when there is something that can broaden my mind and take me someplace where I learn more about what I am capable of or what I believe in.

The night in Beijing was only a small speck in time but it still contributed to the patchwork of travel experiences that make me who I am.