The Running Jackal

On my midweek run I completed the return leg of a seven-hundred-calorie out-and-back along the trails around P'Kols, an episode I titled “The Leaning Trees on P'Kols.” I ran mainly downhill at first, enjoying one of my favourite stretches of trail and settling into a steady pace of around ten minutes per kilometre while retracing the same route I had taken earlier. Along the way I passed the outdoor school again, heard the rush of Douglas Creek after the rain, and noticed the bustle of kids enjoying the day while I kept moving. I reflected on how I once ran beside the road without realizing this beautiful forest trail even existed, now appreciating the shelter of the trees and the quiet rhythm of the route. I finished the run near the Hiker’s Bridge, satisfied that this time the recording worked and that the short midweek outing had turned into a simple trail story with dry feet and steady miles. 🌲🏃‍

'Top loop romp' i went out for a relaxed Top Loop run and covered about 5 km in roughly 50 minutes. My pace was around 9 minutes per kilometre, keeping things mostly comfortable. My heart rate averaged about 135 bpm and briefly climbed to around 180 bpm during the harder efforts. I spent most of the time in the easier zones with a few stronger bursts mixed in. I finished the run feeling great, like it was a solid but playful outing. 🏃‍♂️

A mid-week triptych often refers to a three-paneled artwork or curated photo series, frequently highlighting themes of daily rhythm, religious devotion, or art, such as a constructivist piece or a "Holy Week" poem-prayer series. These creations, whether visual or written, are used to break up the week with creative, reflective, or artistic focus, often displayed on social media.

This morning I headed out solo on Patrick’s trail loop, covering 7.05 km in just over an hour, keeping it mostly steady and aerobic. My heart rate stayed comfortably low overall, drifting between Zones 2 and 3, with just a touch of climbing effort in Zone 4. The pace was unhurried, the cadence relaxed — the kind of run where the body moves and the mind wanders. As the trail rolled under my feet, I found myself thinking about old friends and the seasons of life we’ve shared. It was one of those “great feeling” runs — not fast, not flashy, just honest miles and quiet reflection in the woods., Avg Cadence:60

Carlos recorded his midweek “show” while hiking up Church Hill Drive to the lookout, choosing to walk instead of run to keep his heart rate under control. He reached the top at about a 12-minute-per-kilometre pace, noting the cold air, hazy sunshine, strong wind, and ongoing antenna construction near the summit. During the climb, he reflected on his upcoming Hadrian's Wall adventure, which now looks like it will include four walkers doing the official west-to-east route, including a new addition who is Bill’s cousin. After 38 minutes of climbing, he began his descent down the Glen Denning Trail toward Harvest Lane, expecting the downhill stretch to improve his pace. The video ends as he heads back home, about 3.37 kilometres out, with the audio set to continue beyond the eight-minute clip.

In this episode, I head out for an easy altitude-focused run from the base of Mount Douglas Park, recording casually from my phone as I climb toward Arbutus Mount. Running low on hydration, I make an early stop at the park’s tap before continuing along the lower trails, noticing recent wind damage and the quiet of the forest. The route follows a classic saddle loop, mixing steady climbing, power hiking, and relaxed downhill stretches while I keep an eye on heart rate and pace. From the top of Arbutus Mount, with views out over the Salish Sea, I wrap up a reflective, low-key effort and call it a day.

That morning I headed out for my Three Triangles run, planning easy hill repeats with a steady climb that grew progressively steeper before each downhill. I moved through Mount Douglas Park, tracking my pace and heart rate while greeting dog walkers and pausing occasionally for photos of my favourite trees. The second climb averaged about eight percent, pushing me into higher zones than usual, though I tried to stay controlled and focused on steady effort. As I ran, I reflected on my podcast episode, my training philosophy of longevity over extremes, and even shared a few thoughts about the Barkley Marathons. Near the end, about fifty-five minutes in, I recorded my Wednesday trailer on the power line trail and signed off until Sunday.

This morning I headed out along Colquitz Creek for a five-kilometre run, and the creek was in full storm surge mode. Flowing down from Elk Lake, it was louder and fuller than I’ve ever seen it, a big change from the usual trickle. I followed the path beside the water (with Interurban Road humming nearby), carefully crossed the nearly flooded stepping stones, and stopped for a few photos along the way. The route opened up at Panama Flats, wide, watery, and full of birdsong, with Mount Douglas watching in the distance. A muddy, scenic out-and-back adventure — recorded live, as always.

This is Carlos taking the experimental route up Mount Tolmie, trying the west side for a change instead of my usual east approach. What I found was a narrow single track with little bridge planks over swampy ground, patches of bare rock, and more hiking than running — especially with a camera in one hand and a voice recorder in the other. I made a wrong turn, retraced my steps (as trail wisdom demands), and eventually rejoined a semi-official path that wound its way toward the top. There were fungi on trees — possibly turkey tail — signs of last summer’s burn, a stray Starbucks gift card, and plenty of mossy rock photo opportunities along the way. Twenty minutes in, I popped out at the summit parking lot, recorded a quick trailer, watched a wary seagull guard his snack stash, and then let the paved downhill carry me back toward Richmond Road. Not a long episode, but a good cross-training climb close to home — less than five kilometres from my fridge. Later: tomato sauce, pizza assembly, and the quiet satisfaction of another small local adventure in the books.

A sunny trail run unfolds from Cedar Hill Road up through Whittaker and Harrop, with more climbing than running and plenty of pauses to soak in the views. I’m moving at a mountain trot, stepping over fallen trees, passing hikers and familiar dogs, and occasionally running out of air as the trail tilts upward. The day feels like early spring teasing its arrival—gloves come off, sunshine breaks through, and everything looks ready to wake up. Thoughts drift to future plans like the Hadrian’s Wall adventure and a new podcast, even as muddy sections and wet shoes keep things very real underfoot. The run loops back down toward Harvest Lane, ending with tired legs, a full head, and a cheerful sign-off from a bright day on the trails in BC.

Glacier Place Mash I started running anticlockwise from Glacier Place, letting an open-air recording capture the trail exactly as it was—tree frogs, passing voices, and the scrape of fresh gravel underfoot. It was the first run of the week, easing into Zone 2 and waiting for the breathing to settle as the pace naturally smoothed out. Construction noises drifted through the forest while I thought ahead to longer walks, paper maps, and the quiet logic of moving steadily from morning into evening. Downhills offered free speed, climbs demanded patience, and the loop revealed its familiar landmarks in no particular rush. Thirty-plus minutes later, I arrived back where I started, breath intact, mind clear, and the mash complete.

I set out for three long hill repeats on P’kols and immediately realized I’d forgotten my voice recorder, so the phone, a discarded glove, and a bit of improvisation had to do. Mist, steady rain, soaked feet, and steep grades kept the effort honest as I moved between running and hiking, listening closely for zone changes. The climbs weren’t about speed but patience, rhythm, and accepting what the hill allowed. Between summits and familiar faces on the trail, thoughts drifted to future miles and long walks along Hadrian’s Wall. Imperfect audio or not, the work got done — unrushed, intact, and exactly as needed.

P’kols, UnrushedJoin me midweek as I leave the streets behind and ease into the trees.From Glendenning to Harrop, the pace softens and the forest starts to speak.There’s no rush here — just breath, footfall, and the quiet work of moving forward.This is a short run, a long exhale, and a reminder that not every effort needs an edge.Lace up, tune in, and come wander P’kols with me.

Long zone one run in my frosty ’hood, Avg Cadence:63Cold air, quiet streets, and that pale winter light stretching your shadow out ahead like a compass needle. The frost on the path says early and honest—no rush, just steady forward motion. You’re moving through a neighbourhood that hasn’t quite woken up yet, hills holding the horizon, trees standing watch. It feels like a run where endurance mattered more than speed, where you let the rhythm settle and finished stronger than you started—exactly what the numbers back up. A calm, workmanlike coastal miles kind of morning: subdued, gritty, and quietly satisfying.

Good morning everybody, Carlos here, recording my trailer video on Blenkinsop Road as I headed down toward the Lochside Trail. I planned to go up the Donwood stairs to Lohbrunnner Pond and thought that would be the title for this short midweek podcast. I had already captured quite a bit of footage on Mount Douglas and was running down toward the Lochside Trail as I spoke.Letting listeners know to watch my 'feed' for a midweek video podcast of about 24 minutes from that outing, mixing in a few walk breaks and some “eye candy" . I signed off as the Running Jackal from Lobrunnner West—or maybe East—realizing I should have checked the sign before saying goodbye.

Broadmead and Rithet’s Bog are part of the same landscape history, shaped first by wetlands and later by agriculture and settlement. Rithet’s Bog was once part of a much larger marsh system that naturally drained and nourished the surrounding land. As settlers arrived, sections of the bog were drained to create farmland, leading to the establishment of Broadmead Farm. The name “Broadmead” came not from the land itself, but from Broadmead, a prized racehorse owned by Robert Paterson Rithet. Over time, most of the wetland disappeared under development, leaving Rithet’s Bog as a rare surviving remnant of that original environment.

A gentle Wednesday loop around the Cedar Hill chip trail, keeping things relaxed and familiar. One steady lap around the golf course, soft footing underfoot, nothing forced. I slowed down long enough to say hello to some old friends — the ducks — who barely flinched as I shuffled past. That’s the beauty of this place: repetition without boredom. Thirty minutes of woodchips, small climbs, wandering thoughts, and an easy rhythm before heading off for errands and a few more miles on the bike. The Running Jackal signing off from the Queensbury Ave exit. Stats:3.5 km · 70 m gain · 30:40 · Avg cadence 63

I recorded a long on-the-move video and audio segment while running and walking through Mount Douglas Park the day after the salmon toss, narrating what I saw along Douglas Creek as it ran high from recent rain. I talked through my process of keeping audio and video synchronized, filming incidentals, and planning how the footage would become both a trailer and a longer podcast episode. Along the way I reflected on wet feet, muddy trails, fake bridges, zone-based heart rate alerts from my running app, and the challenge of staying upright on slick rock. I passed familiar landmarks like the hiker’s bridge, Elephant Rock, and the saddle, mixing trail observations with side thoughts about money, technology, past injuries, and even low-flying floatplanes. I nearly tripped while chatting on trail but stayed vertical, finished the climb, and signed off contentedly from a soggy but memorable run the day after the salmon toss.

I rode my e-bike twice today, using the first short loop to get moving and the second to close the loop and pick up my cycling gear. Between the rides, I settled into a solid 30 minutes of traditional weight training. The strength session felt steady and controlled, with an average heart rate of 97 bpm and just enough effort to keep me honest. Altogether, the second ride covered 6.61 km with 67 meters of climbing, giving the day a nice aerobic lift. It felt like a quiet homage to my virtual training buddy KG, sharing the work even when one of us didn’t hit record.

Carlos introduces the hike while climbing the South Ridge Trail, showing off his new chest-mounted camera alongside his point-and-shoot. He pauses to give viewers a 360-degree look at the surroundings as he continues the ascent. The outing is framed as a straightforward trail update, with “South Ridge Ascent” set as the title for the day.