I shaved my head — all 10 inches of my thick, brown hair — four days after I moved to Africa. Why?
I’m not sure exactly what to expect, other than the experience of a lifetime. I likely won’t have regular access to electricity; but don’t worry, I plan to update my blog with many stories each month. I will set them on a timer, so that you see fresh content every week and never miss a beat! Thanks for your continued love and support.
But neither the time nor miles seemed to matter. I reconnected with many friends and family and we picked up where we had left off, so to speak, and caught up on all our misadventures. When we weren’t swapping stories, the best part was to just be — like old times.
To be honest, I was ready for it all to be over before the race even started. About four months into my training, and just two weeks before the big day, I got tired. I was tired of counting kilometers, tired of canceling happy hour, tired of skipping late night social events and tired of waking up before the sun. I was tired, so very tired, of running.
Adjusting in Chile didn’t come without its challenges. In fact, nearly everything was hard. But after more than two years, by far the hardest thing about living in Chile is leaving.
I trekked 71 kilometers (45 miles) and albeit far, I only saw a small part of the huge region that spans two countries. As in nearly all of my South American ventures, Nora was by my side. For 5 days, we hiked the popular W-shaped trail in Torres del Paine in what felt like a beautiful fairy tale ending to this chapter of my life.
What’s at the bottom of the world? Penguins, of course. From Punta Arenas, Chile, the world’s southernmost city, I sailed the Magellan Strait to visit the largest penguin colony in the region.
