Month: January 2026

Milestone Reached—100 Blog Posts!

With a small, self-congratulatory pat on the back, I will advise my readers that this is the 100th post on My Second Running Life. It seems appropriate that I’m writing this as we turn the page to a new year, and also as I approach the third anniversary of this project. These are both events that lend themselves to introspection, so I will do a bit of that before looking forward to 2026.

State of the Blog

With a few exceptions, I write pieces that deal with these topics: running, photography, and/or strokes. Here’s my rationale—running has been a constant presence in my life for fifty years; strokes threatened to end it all, and likely would have, had it not been for the previous point; and photography has increasingly been the medium through which I express my thoughts and feelings as I go through life.

And what about this life—My Second Running Life? When I settled on the title for the blog, it was my way of reminding myself that fulfillment can come in different ways. I think the title still serves that purpose. I hope that my readers see it the same way.

I will add a thought for readers who may struggle to balance elements of their own life, especially if that includes trying to maintain a high standard of performance as an amateur athlete. For many years, I was there, too. Let me remind you that there will be no harsher judge of your success than you. Only you can decide what success looks like—don’t let anyone presume to tell you. And only you can give yourself permission to back away when that is the right thing to do, because of family or work commitments. It’s worthwhile remembering what the word amateur means—someone who participates in an activity for no reason other than the love of doing it.

I describe competitive distance running as a perfect proxy for life itself. There will inevitably be highs and lows. In a race, we may be having a rough stretch, only to find the next mile is better. If today’s effort falls short and the race doesn’t go to plan, we can console ourselves with the thought that there will be another chance soon.

In other words, we must never lose hope or stop believing in ourselves. That’s what this blog has always been about.

The Year in Review

Running

My days of preparing for and executing goal races may be over, but I will never tire of being around runners. In 2025, I had plenty of opportunities to catch racing action in Alberta; cheer on friends and teammates; meet some very talented athletes; do some volunteering; and, of course, snap some memorable roadside photographs. We also said goodbye to a dear friend. You can read about the major events on the calendar here, here, and here. Below is a small sample of my favourite running pictures from 2025:

Copyright for all photographs is mine.

Strokes

When I started on the path of self-publishing a book, I knew almost nothing about the process. However, I knew I wanted to share what I had learned about strokes, which are typically the fourth leading cause of death in Canada. And I wanted to give back in whatever ways I could, to support the essential work being done every day at the Foothills Stroke Unit and the University of Calgary.

I was fortunate last year to have had several opportunities to tell my story, as written in Stroke of Luck. It’s extremely gratifying to share my key messages: the importance of an active lifestyle, awareness of the full range of stroke symptoms, and recognition of (and support for) the world-class stroke care and research being done at Foothills.

Naming everyone who made these events possible would be difficult. I appreciate the help of the Calgary Health Foundation to ensure that funds raised go where they should. Let me share a few photographs from events in Canmore, Edmonton, and Calgary:

I close my posts with the acronym BE FAST, but it seems timely to remind my readers just what this small and powerful phrase means:

If you or someone you care about is experiencing any of the symptoms of stroke, don’t hesitate—call 9-1-1 right away! If you want to learn more, do check out some of these other posts on the blog: here, here, and here.

Other Photography

Photography has become my constant companion, on my runs and walks, in both good times and bad. Believe me, the last couple of years have brought more than enough bad news. Fortunately, memories of family and friends that we’ve lost are a blessing that will sustain us.

I still prefer to carry a dedicated camera, although I find myself slowly giving in to the convenience of digital. I admit that I shot less film in 2025 than I have in previous years, and that’s a shame. In any case, here are some of my memorable shots from 2025 (all digital, as it happens):

Regardless of the format, my approach to photography is almost completely intuitive. Recently, a guest on my blog wrote that calling myself an observer may not be accurate. But that’s okay. I never know what pictures I’m looking for when I head out the door. What I’ve learned is that I should trust my instincts—if I see something that catches my attention, I should react to it. I plan to keep that going.

Goals for 2026

With a bit of luck and planning, I think 2026 will be a good year. The first good omen was the Sheep River Parkrun on New Year’s Day in lovely Okotoks. It was a perfect start to the year, as I was surrounded by good friends and my son Daniel.

This morning, chinook clouds south of Calgary seemed to be calling to me. I drove in that direction and found myself back in Okotoks, at the “big rock” which gives the town its name. As I admired and photographed this impressive glacial erratic, it occurred to me that the rock is a symbol of my life—it’s not on the path that was expected, and it sits in pieces. I take solace that, like the rock, I have survived. It’s a fitting picture for the top of this post.

As I quietly walked around the famous rock, I thought about topics for future articles. One idea I have is a series of photo runs in my favourite Southern Alberta towns, including more shots on film. I think it will be a wonderful way to explore the history and culture of our province, while (more or less) staying in shape. So look for that, as well as more of my favourite photographs from life, and of course, news on stroke research and prevention.

I hope you’ll check in often. As ever, be well and BE FAST!

Return to Prairie Mountain!

Just as Santa can be counted on for a visit in late December, we look to my friend Tim to reveal the details of the annual Prairie Mountain Winter Sunrise Hike. True to form, Tim set the date for the 2025 hike on December 29. Sunrise on that day would be, within a few seconds, the latest of the year.

Working back from a target of 8:39:33 a.m., our convoy of eight hikers met up at the Tsuut’ina Subway on Buffalo Run Boulevard at 6:10 a.m. With practiced efficiency, we were geared up and on the trail by 7:00 a.m. We expected to have ample time to reach the summit.

I’ve posted on our previous PM hikes, and I’m pleased to say these pieces have been popular. In 2023, I shared photos of a beautiful sunrise in Part 1: The Hike and delved into the mysteries of the celestial world for Part 2: The Science. We were not deterred by last year’s cloudy conditions—you can read about that hike here. This year’s forecast suggested that the star attraction would likely make a return appearance.

For readers who are unfamiliar with Prairie Mountain, it is the most accessible mountain for Calgary hikers. Accessible doesn’t mean easy, though—this is a good workout at any time. Last year, I noted that the hike seemed to be tougher than what I remembered. This time out, I had the same feeling. I’m not sure I like that trend! One foot, then the other. Repeat.

The Hiking Bit

Given the snow-packed conditions on the trail, I was (again) very thankful for the new stone steps on the toughest sections. Even so, I welcomed a short pause at the first lookout, where we switched off our headlamps. I couldn’t help but notice the vibrant orange light to the east, which was already impressive as we approached the summit ridge. Were we too late?

Because any PM summit is an impressive achievement, here’s my Strava activity summary.

A few words on equipment. I decided to bring my “good camera”, the totally manual Leica M10. It’s a wonderful camera, but when you are bringing up the rear in the dark, as I was, adjustments are challenging. That meant I came home with blurry shots of my hiking partners’ backsides and severely underexposed images. Overall, I think the Ricoh GR III is better suited to this task. As always, my Kahtoola Microspikes and ancient red Komperdell poles were a necessity.

As usual, our group set a steady pace. (I hang around with some very healthy folks.) It’s hard to blame my comparatively slow pace on my photographic duties unless I present a few photos. So here’s the evidence!

Note: Copyright for all pictures is mine

We enjoyed the relatively mild temperature (-5C) and the shelter of the treeline for most of the hike. However, as soon as we reached the summit ridge, we were immersed in a strong westerly wind. We slogged the rest of the way up the ridge. The small Canadian flag on the summit cairn was no match for the stiff breeze. We headed for the shelter of a few scraggly trees below the summit to wait for the rest of our group. With fingers losing feeling, operating cameras and zippers became almost impossible. There was no loitering at the top on this day!

The Technical Bit

Given the challenges I mentioned with manual camera settings, I thought it might be interesting to present a comparison of my pre- and post-editing for one of this year’s key PM shots. I suppose this is called making lemonade out of lemons.

Of course, everyone hopes for a good group picture at the summit. This year, we imposed on a solo hiker who reached the summit just ahead of us to do the honours. Now, my comment that “the settings should be fine” must be tempered with the reality that I didn’t actually look at these before handing over the camera. Yes, I was freezing, the wind was howling, and for all I know, he had never touched a manual camera before. I’m fully to blame for any technical shortcomings. That said, my heart sank when I saw the images straight out of the camera. However, with some comprehensive (and slightly desperate) work in Lightroom Classic, I managed to extract a passable image. You can compare the before and after image here:

A hardy group celebrates another Prairie summit!

At the risk of losing some readers, I’ll summarize the edits I made to this image in my attempt to rescue it. First, I increased the overall exposure significantly—a whopping 3.5 stops. I think the meter was fooled by the sun in the centre of the image. Then I dropped the sky by a stop, and raised the foreground by almost another stop. I raised the white balance to warm the image up slightly. I dropped the highlights, mostly around the sun, and raised the shadows. Then I increased the saturation, clarity and dehaze. That left me with a noisy image, which I tried to fix using the latest AI tools in Lightroom. In the end, I gave up, as all this did was create artifacts that were, to my eye, worse than the noise.

So, as long as no one looks too closely, this is a fair reminder of what it felt like to stand on the summit that morning. My homework for next year is to be better prepared.

Wrapping Up

With the start of a new year, one is often moved to contemplate things that truly have value and be thankful for people who are important in life. I’m very fortunate to be surrounded by like-minded people who value fitness and friendship. And we are all blessed to have special places like Kananaskis just a short drive from home. Thanks, Tim, for getting us out there and up there again.

The annual winter solstice hike was a great experience and a perfect end to the year. Oh yes, the post-hike coffee and baked goods at the Handle-bar Cafe in Bragg Creek were delicious. And well earned.

Until next time, be well, BE FAST—and Happy New Year to all!