It has been awhile since I have posted about a food favorite. Riding my bike everyday and running multiple times per week has me thinking more and more about what I am fueling my body with. As much as possible, I like to eat foods I make myself, from simple ingredients. While writing a bio for the SKORA Running Ambassador page, I thought about how similar my approach to eating is to my attitude about running. Check out the SKORA Running website for more background about their philosophy on running. Here is what I wrote:

I believe running is about our relationship with our bodies and the environment around us. Running should be simple and natural; from the foods we use as fuel to the shoes that provide the connection between our feet and the ground. RUN REAL is a philosophy that applies to my life because my body performs best with technology adjusting neither my food nor my feet.

Remember when I promised (over a month ago) that I would share some recipes for on-the-go energy snacks? Sorry it’s taken so long, but here is one of my favorite new foods to make… best of all it’s easy, healthy, and delicious!

Coconut Chia Almond Bites

• 1/4 Cup Coconut Oil
• 1/4 Cup Almond Butter
• 1/2 Cup Shredded (not flaked) Coconut*
• 1 TBSP Chia Seeds
• 1 TBSP Cocoa Powder
• 1/2 tsp Stevia (optional for desired sweetness)

Melt the coconut oil in a pan over low heat. Once melted, mix the coconut oil and almond butter together in a bowl. Next, add 1/4 cup of shredded coconut (*half of the the total amount), along with the rest of the dry ingredients, stirring as you go. Once you have mixed the ingredients well, place the bowl in the refrigerator for about 45 minutes (longer is okay too but you may have to let it sit out before forming into balls). After the mixture has hardened a good bit, remove from the refrigerator and form in to balls using a spoon. As you form the mixture into balls, one at a time, roll them in the remaining shredded coconut. Store your Coconut Almond Bites in a container in the refrigerator.

If you try this recipe and think of any good additions, comment below to let me know!

Food Favorites | Coconut Chia Almond Bites is a post from: Two Backpacks. One World.

If you haven’t already, I recommend you read Part I of this story before reading this.

I left off the story “somewhere on a path along the beach [in New Zealand]… something starting going really smoothly.” I was trying to describe the feeling when something you’ve done over and over starts to feel just right, as if you’ve been meant to do it all along. One of my favorite professors at Warren Wilson College taught us about “Flow,” a theory developed by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi (also, one of my favorite names to try to pronounce). Flow is described by Csikszentmihalyi as:

Being completely involved in an activity for its own sake. The ego falls away. Time flies. Every action, movement, and thought follows inevitably from the previous one, like playing jazz. Your whole being is involved, and you’re using your skills to the utmost.

Others might call this being in “the zone,” or finding your groove. All I know is that it felt right, and when I found myself entering this state of being while running, I started wanting more! I would plan routes that went up big hills just for the hell of it. I had an easier time waking up and heading out before sunrise (sometimes with a headlamp) to start my day with a burst of energy. As a brand ambassador, I was recently asked to write a bio for the SKORA Running website and while thinking about what running means to me, I came up with this:

For me, running is a journey. Each time my foot leaves the ground, propelling me forward, I learn something new about my body. My ankle bends, my calf muscle flexes, my knee springs into action and so it goes, all the way up to my mind paying attention to the rhythm of my breathing. This is my body communicating with itself to keep me running, whether it is 2 miles or 13.1. I began to enjoy running when I began to listen to my body and pay attention to these messages.

This is it. I am a runner. If you read my last post, you will have some understanding of how surprising it is, still, to see myself write those words. Back in New Zealand, I was training for my second half-marathon, and was actually starting to enjoy the process. We planned the race around our departure from New Zealand and worked out perfectly to be a week after we left our jobs. My parents had arrived to visit and Kaitlin and I embarked on a three week road trip around the South Island with them. Our week leading up to the race was a little bit unusual, as we were on the road visiting places like Cape Foulwind Seal Colony, Punakaiki (Pancake Rocks), and Fox Glacier. We managed to get some short runs in, while also staying active by hiking and walking everyday.

Enjoying the Southern Hemisphere Half-Marathon in Wanaka, New Zealand.

We arrived in Wanaka a couple days before the race and spent some time walking around the small town, checking out local shops and restaurants (and beer, of course). The day before the race, Kaitlin and I drove the course to check it out. Normally, I would not recommend this because it can be intimidating to realize how long it can take to drive 13.1 miles, knowing that you will be doing all that on foot. This was no exception, however, since it was a one way course (starting 13.1 miles from Wanaka and running back into town), we would have to make that drive the morning of the race and it was nice to get the shock of the distance out of the way the day before!

Part of the fun of running events is having a support team, like my dad (pictured) and mom.

Race day came and we were at the starting line before sunrise. Although it was a chilly start, we warmed up quickly as we started moving and watched the sunrise over the nearby mountains. My parents acted as our race support team and stopped every so often the first few miles to take pictures and collect our long-sleeve layers as we warmed up (thanks, mom and dad!). They then headed back into town to grab breakfast before meeting us at the finish line to take more pictures and cheer us on. I had set a goal of finishing in just under two hours, meaning I would be running at a pace of just over 9 minutes per mile. As it turns out, I arrived at the finish line 1 hour, 51 minutes, and 37 seconds after I started. I actually beat my parents to the finish line (although they took a roundabout route). As I crossed, they were just walking over from the car and heard my name called out. This was the moment I knew that I would never turn back from running.

This is my "How did I beat you to the finish line?" look.

Fast forward 11 months and here we are, living and training in Portland, Oregon. I am currently training for a 15k Shamrock Run (remember what we did last year on St. Patrick’s day?), the Rock ‘n Roll Portland Half-Marathon on Kaitlin’s birthday (May 19th), and the Tough Mudder near Portland in June. I have organized a weekly running club through work at the Icebreaker TouchLab store in Portland’s Pearl District. If you are in Portland on a Wednesday evening, we leave the store at 6pm for a casual run just under 4 miles. I would never have expected for running to becoming such a part of my life.

I’ll continue to write about my experience as a runner, including my recently achieved long distance. Next I’ll write about how the food I fuel my body with relates to my approach to running. I will include a couple recipes for homemade, on-the-go energy snacks.

Attitude Adjustment | Learning to Love Running: Part II is a post from: Two Backpacks. One World.

If you told me a few years ago that I would come to love running, I would have laughed in your face. When I used to think of running, I thought of the requirement to “run” the mile in gym class. I walked it. Sure, I might have jogged the first bit, but it usually took me a good 18-20 minutes to finish the mile. In conversation, I often struggle to come up with words to describe just how much I detested running. Years ago, Kaitlin decided she wanted to start running and started a Couch to 5k plan. She enthusiastically invited me to join her, to which I replied with: “I only run when being chased!” Fast forward a couple of years and I had successfully avoided letting her talk me into running with her… until we decided to get married.

Kaitlin conveniently found a half-marathon exactly one week before our wedding in Rochester, NY. I’m still unsure of what techniques of persuasion she used, but somehow she convinced me into signing up for the 13.1 mile run with her. We trained together for a couple of months and completed the half-marathon with enough grace (and civility) that we still managed to walk down the aisle a week later and lovingly commit to spending our lives together.

Post race at our first half-marathon (thinking "I'm never gonna do that again!")

The way I justified running, each mile of that race bought me one month without running. I actually managed to stretch it out to more like 18 months without running again, and I was perfectly happy with that. When we left our home and jobs in Asheville, NC to set out on our RTW trip, I was in close to the worse shape of my life (the step up was that I no longer smoked a pack of cigarettes each day like I did for a few years starting at the end of high school). We travelled through Europe and the UK for about 4 months, spent a month in Thailand, and then ultimately made it to our dreamland of New Zealand.

We were packing some extra pounds when we first arrived in Europe!

I sense a tangent coming on here and that’s okay, New Zealand deserves it. We have been back from NZ for 9 months now and I still think about being there everyday. Maybe it’s partly due to being here in Portland, where the winter norm is rain, rain, and more rain. Our “hometown” in Nelson logged the most sunshine hours of anywhere in NZ, and we were right on the beach with the mountains only a stone’s throw away. It was there that running first became a part of me. While there, we discovered the book The 4-Hour Body by Timothy Ferriss. While I have yet to fully commit to The 4-Hour Body (I’ll let you guess which parts I haven’t accomplished yet), Kaitlin and I took on the challenge of trying his version of a slow-carb diet. I won’t go into too much detail here (though I would strongly encourage you to get his book and read into it), however the basic premise of this is limiting intake of high carbohydrate foods to once per week. This works well for me because I don’t have to give up pizza and other tasty carb-loaded foods completely, instead I look forward to the one day per week that I get to enjoy them.

This was the view from where we lived in New Zealand on the hill above the beach.

About this time, Kaitlin and I decided (contrary to my prior instincts) that it would be a good idea to sign up for another half-marathon. I think I tricked myself into thinking it was a good idea because we were in the Southern Hemisphere and thought it would be cool to have a t-shirt from a race in New Zealand (spoiler alert: it turns out there were no t-shirts for the event we completed, but keep reading anyway, I’ll try to keep it interesting). We began training in Nelson, and though I can’t tell you exactly when or where, I can tell you that somewhere on the path along the Tasman Bay, something clicked. That sounds cliché, and not quite fitting for the feeling I am trying to portray, so I will correct myself. Nothing clicked. Somewhere on a path along a beach, in the most beautiful country I’ve ever seen (and I’ve seen over a dozen), something starting going really smoothly. That sounds better.

There could be any combination of circumstances that led to this strange feeling of enjoyment while running. It could have been that I had adjusted my form to have my foot strike take place mid foot rather than on my heel. It could have been that I was losing weight and feeling lighter in my body. It could have been that waking up early to watch the sunrise over the sea became a ritual that was a great way to start my day. It could have been that I finally let my guard down, quit being stubborn, and opened myself to the enjoyment of running. It could have been any or all of these factors, all that mattered to me was that running finally felt good!

Feeling good post-race after our second half-marathon in Wanaka, New Zealand.

To be continued… check back if you are interested to read about the 40 pounds I lost since we left on our RTW trip and how I have been taking my running to the next level. I am also starting a running club through the Icebreaker store I work for and becoming a brand ambassador for SKORA, a startup running shoe company based here in Portland, Oregon.

Like what you’ve read? Read part II here.

Have you ever had an experience like this, where you opened yourself and starting enjoying something you previously loathed?

Comment below!

Attitude Adjustment | Learning to Love Running is a post from: Two Backpacks. One World.

It’s not uncommon for me to write about the many lessons I’ve learned from my travels. Some examples of noteworthy tidbits I’ve picked up along the way: pack light (no, seriously) , stay away from Thai islands during monsoon season, embrace the kindness of strangers, eat cheese from small fridges in the Swiss Alps, don’t get too close to sea lions, and the list goes on and on.

This, however, might be the most important lesson of all. Read carefully:

If you want to maintain your sanity, it is crucial that you ditch your spouse/partner/boyfriend/girlfriend/fiancé/sugar-muffin (or whatever other term of endearment you prefer to use for your significant other) every once in a while.

*Side note: I’ve decided to take a poll. Please comment below/email with your favorite name for your other half. I’m strangely interested. 

Luckily for me, one of my oldest, dearest, coolest friends decided she wanted to go on a ladies getaway before I moved to Portland. Sarah and I have been friends since I was in middle school. She drew my only tattoo, was the maid of honor in my wedding, and designed the logo for this blog (along with everything else I’ve ever needed designed). She’s pretty much the best friend anyone could ask for.

Sarah and me, circa 2006

In true fashion, we didn’t figure out what we were going to do until a few days before we left. I’d like to tell you I just really like spontaneity (which I do), but it’s probably more accurate to say that I’m just a really big procrastinator. That’s neither here nor there.

Sarah and her husband Brad (aka Brian’s biggest man-crush) bought a house this summer and spent pretty much every waking hour outside of work fixing it up. Needless to say, she deserved a getaway.

Brian and Brad back in 2006... Can you understand why no boys were allowed?

We decided to go Ithaca because it’s relatively close to home and is an all-around awesome little city. I found a good deal on a hotel room (my not-so-secret-deal-finding website: hotwire.com) and we hit the road with some of our favorite reminiscent music. We were only sidetracked at the outlet mall for a couple of hours… What can I say? It was on the way.

It was one of my long-time food dreams to eat at the renowned Moosewood Restaurant, which specializes in gourmet vegetarian dishes. I have been using recipes from their many cookbooks for years, and since Sarah and I both happen to be vegetarian, it was time I fulfilled my dream.

The Moosewood’s menu changes daily depending on what’s local and in season. On the night we went, the stars just happened to align in my favor because the theme for the evening was my personal favorite: Mexican. Yes, please.

I wish I had photographed our dishes to post here, but honestly I was far too pre-occupied with my amazing meal to bother with photographs. It’s no wonder Bon Appétit named it “one of the 13 most influential restaurants of the 20th century.” It’s seriously that good, and with main courses ranging from $12-$18, it’s not too hard on the wallet either (no, I’m not being sponsored in any way for writing this, although maybe I should ask them if they need a new spokeswoman in exchange for a nightly shipment of freshly prepared dishes?).

The next morning we set out for one of my all-time favorite places: Robert H. Treman State Park. I’m thankful for glaciers for many reasons, namely the gorges in upstate New York. I’ve been to Treman many times, and each time I’m in awe of the steep gorge walls and incredible waterfalls. This trip was my favorite, though, because I was with my best friend during the most beautiful time of year: autumn. The colors were vibrant and the temperature was perfect. It’s a small slice of heaven on earth, and I would encourage any and all hikers who live nearby or are passing through to take the time to stop. You’ll thank me, I promise.

Sarah and me in front of Lucifer Falls

The colors were so beautiful

Another waterfall shot. I love her.

As with all great trips, it had to come to an end. To combat my feelings of sadness, I spent part of this afternoon looking through old photos and decided to include a few of the particularly ridiculous snapshots of Sarah and me dating back to the widespread availability of digital cameras. I’m sure thankful they weren’t around earlier to document more of my awkward teenage years.

Sarah, don’t be mad. It’s really not that uncommon for friends to post mildly embarrassing photos of each other on the internet for the world to see (or, in my case, the dwindling few who read this blog). It’s the foundation of widely used sites like Facebook. Also, I got your postcard today and I think you’re awesome.

I don't even know what this thing is, but Sarah wanted to pick its nose...

Doesn't everyone practice pretend martial arts on top of couches?

I would love to know what we were singing. Thankfully my fashion sense has mildly improved since this photo was taken.

Sarah confirming our vegetarianism was strong in high school

Hosting our first real dinner party when my parents went out of town. Note my "Ithaca is Gorgeous" sweatshirt.

I'm not really sure how to caption this one...

She's the best.

No Boys Allowed | Ladies Getaway in Ithaca, NY is a post from: Two Backpacks. One World.

I’m starting to think we should have considered a more appropriate name for this blog. Perhaps something along these lines would have been more fitting:

OnceWeLivedOutOfTwoBackpacks-AndThenWeMovedToATinyApartmentInPortland.com

I digress.

 A while ago I promised a life update. I’m finally following through.

Ready? Here goes: we moved across the country to Portland, Oregon! Brian was offered a job with Icebreaker (a New Zealand Company, oddly enough) and subsequently found an adorable studio apartment next to one of the many local breweries (coincidence? I think not).

Diagram 1: Our kitchen. Despite my initial reaction, I dig the red.

Diagram 2: Our attempt to divide our studio into living quarters.

I’ve been here for 18 days. Here are the few things I have noticed so far:

1. I’m not very hip  (I knew this already, but the high concentration of hipsters in this city serves as a daily reminder. Do you think I get a few hip points now that I’ve started using Instagram? I’m probably too far behind the trend).
2. It’s a really small world (this, too, I already knew, but when I found out that our Australian neighbor lived in the same small town as us in Western North Carolina and ran into a friend of Brian’s from college at a random bus stop on the same day, my small world belief was reconfirmed).
3. I’m head over heels in love… with IKEA. I think the term “retail therapy” was likely coined there.
4. I can count the men I’ve seen without beards on one hand.
5. It really does rain quite a bit (If my memory serves me right, it has rained 17 of my 18 days here. Today is no exception, with this strange rotating pattern of moments of bright sun followed by extreme downpour. My conclusion: Mother Nature is menopausal).

Here's a photo of the day it didn't rain. I stumbled upon Joseph Woodhill Park. Look closely, you can see Mount Hood between the trees!

My lack of hip-ness doesn’t bother me and I don’t really mind the rain too much, although my poor husband would certainly tell you differently. Sentences like “how does anyone live here?” and “I read somewhere that it isn’t going to stop until at least July…” have left my lips on multiple occasions. In actuality, however, I’m just avoiding my real underlying questions, such as “why do I live here” and “what in the world am I supposed to do with myself now?”

I think what I’m experiencing could be called a quarter-life existential crisis (no, I’m really not quite as dramatic as I sound, I just like the shock value). From what I’ve gathered, this is common phenomenon among long-term travelers after returning home.

I’m fully aware of what a fortunate conundrum this is. I’m asking myself questions like “am I ready for grad school?” and “what type of work will I find fulfilling and challenging?” instead of “where will I find my next meal?” I try hard never to take my circumstance for granted. There are so many options, I only hope to make the most of my “one wild and precious life.” I really don’t want to disappoint Mary Oliver.

Between my job/soul searching I’ve had a lot of time to read. I’ve resonated with this passage from James Kavanaugh’s “There Are Men Too Gentle to Live Among Wolves” which Brian passed on to me years ago. Perhaps other’s may find some solace here as well:

“Some people do not have to search, for they find their niche early in life and rest there, seemingly contented and resigned. They do not seem to ask much of life, sometimes they do not seem to take it seriously. At times I envy them, but usually I do not understand them. Seldom do they understand me.

I am one of the searchers. There are, I believe, millions of us. We are not unhappy, but neither are we really content. We continue to explore ourselves, hoping to understand. We like to walk along the beach, we are drawn by the ocean, taken by its power, its unceasing motion, its mystery and unspeakable beauty. We like forests and mountains, deserts and hidden rivers and lonely cities as well. Our sadness is as much a part of our lives as is our laughter. To share our sadness with one we love is perhaps as great a joy as we can know–unless it be to share laughter.

We searchers are ambitious only for life itself, for everything beautiful it can provide. Most of all we want to love and be loved. We want to live in a relationship that will not impede our wandering, nor prevent our search, nor lock us in prison walls; that will take us for what little we have to give. We do not want to prove ourselves to another or to compete for love.

This is for wanderers, dreamers and lovers, for lonely men and women who dare to ask of life everything good and beautiful. It is for those who are too gentle to live among wolves.”

For now, Brian is enjoying his new job and I’m continuing to look for work (in case you’ve seen this: no, I did not come here to retire and yes, all the hot girls wear glasses) and other ways to get involved in this new, exciting city. I have to admit, it does feel good to know we aren’t going anywhere for a while (remind me I wrote that the next time I get bit by the travel bug).

My remedy for the post-travel blues: a collection of a few of our favorite photos framed on the kitchen wall. It's impossible not to smile when I'm looking at these.

Have any of you visited or lived in Portland? I would love to hear your stories, tips and suggestions on what to see and do here! 

The West is the Best | Life in Portlandia is a post from: Two Backpacks. One World.

Storm clouds over ARTISANworks

This Weekly Snapshot comes from ARTISANworks, a 40,000 square foot, not-for-profit art space in Rochester, NY. ARTISANworks supports the local arts community through it’s massive, eclectic collection of artwork as well as using the income from event hosting to support local outreach programs. ARTISANworks will always be a special place since Kaitlin and I had our wedding reception at this truly unique venue. Friday night, we attended an opening here of a photography exhibit featuring prints from Tuscany (remember when we were there last summer?). As we left, storm clouds were forming overhead and I captured this shot showing the outside of the warehouse-turned-art gallery.

Canon Powershot S95 Photo Properties – ISO: 80, f #: 2, exposure: 1/40, focal length: 6

The Weekly Snapshot | ARTISANworks is a post from: Two Backpacks. One World.

The evening sun casts shadows over the Niagara Falls Gorge

This Weekly Snapshot comes from Niagara Falls, New York. Our friends Kelly & Anita (aka Adventuring Kiwis) are visiting from New Zealand and we thought it would be appropriate to show them one of the most iconic places in America. What iconic places would you recommend to visit near your hometown?

Canon Powershot S95 Photo Properties – ISO: 80, f #: 8, exposure: 1/1600, focal length: 6

The Weekly Snapshot | Niagara Falls, USA is a post from: Two Backpacks. One World.

Night view on Canandaigua Lake

This Weekly Snapshot is a night shot on Canandaigua Lake in New York’s Finger Lake region. We had a lovely picnic along the lakefront this past week for one of our best friend’s birthday. This shows the Canandaigua Lady, a double-decker paddleboat that offers cruises with dinner and drinks on the  lake.

Canon Powershot S95 Photo Properties – f number: 2, exposure time: 1/8, focal length: 6

The Weekly Snapshot | Canandaigua Lady is a post from: Two Backpacks. One World.

I’ve always had a love/hate relationship with winter. Okay, it’s mostly hate with a tiny bit of love.

Sure, that first snowfall is exciting. Looking through the window at the fresh coating of pretty white powder on the ground and the glistening ice crystals on the trees is undeniably magical.

Diagram 1: Magical

Then, I walk outside and am immediately hit by that freezing, bitter air and the unfortunate reality that any moment, that beautiful snow will become that brown slushy nuisance on the sidewalks and roads that hangs on for months. It’s no longer magical.

Diagram 2: Not so magical

It was no coincidence, you see, that our year of travels directly correlated with spring and summertime around the world. We stayed in Europe until our limited wardrobe no longer kept us warm enough, then we hopped on a plane to (mostly) sunny Thailand until New Zealand’s spring began to bloom in October. It just so happened, also, that we left New Zealand just as that bitter air started to blow and flew home to the US, just in time for spring once again.

Now, after a scorching hot summer in Upstate New York, we’re facing our first winter in two years. Don’t get me wrong, I love fall’s changing leaves and sweatshirt temperatures, but the coming of winter inevitably makes me weary. I mean really, if winter was so great, don’t you think the sun would come out more often to enjoy it? I think so.

Believe it or not, my banter is going somethere.

For Brian and me, this winter’s impending brown slushiness is a metaphor for our next step after long-term travel, a step that we’re still completely unsure of. We have had warm days, work, and many events to distract us from the reality that we have no idea where we’re going or what we’re doing next. This last summer in our string of summers has gone quite quickly and the time for us to figure out our future (at least a little bit of it) has arrived.

I’ll be the first to admit it: what we have here is a very good problem. We’re lucky to have too many possibilities ahead of us, and we’re blessed to have gotten to whimsically travel around the globe and share our stories with those of you digitally following along with us.

As lucky as we are, we’re still facing those post trip blues we were forewarned about. Our seemingly endless summer is, in fact, ending, and we’re grabbing at straws to figure out how to continue doing meaningful work while staying in a single place for a while, especially since we don’t know where that place is yet.

We’ll keep you updated on our progress. This is, after all, part of the adventure, so we’re lacing up our winter boots to head down that brown slushy path. No one really knows how long our winter will hang on, but one thing is for sure: the welcomed spring will come once again; it always does.

“If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant; if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome.”  -Anne Bradstreet

Winter is Coming for Us | Ending our Year-Long Summer is a post from: Two Backpacks. One World.

A small part of the beautiful setup for my cousin's "Festival of Love"

This Weekly Snapshot is from my cousin Monique’s wedding this weekend. This was no ordinary wedding, instead Monique and Andy threw a music festival in their backyard to celebrate their marriage. This was one of many beautiful decorations setup for the festival throughout their yard at The Good Luck Lodge, a fishing lodge they own near the Salmon River in Pulaski, NY. We had a great time at the wedding dancing, dining, and listening to great music by Armory Square Irish Band, The Ruddy Well Band (Monique and Andy’s band), The Prickers, and one of our favorite bands, The Sim Redmond Band.

Thanks for a great time Monique and Andy!

Canon Powershot S95 Photo Properties – f number: 4, exposure time: 1/250, focal length: 6

The Weekly Snapshot | Love Stump is a post from: Two Backpacks. One World.