Day 3: From Blue Dreams to Golden Walls-Chefchaouen to Fes Morning in Chefchaouen felt like waking inside a watercolor. The town, cloaked in every shade of blue, shimmered quietly beneath the watchful Rif Mountains. Before the day stirred to life, we wandered its labyrinthine alleys with Abduh Lah—our local guide, warm, funny, and full of stories. With a twinkle in his eye, he led us through the peaceful Kasbah gardens and hidden corners bursting with color and culture. His pride in his hometown added a heartbeat to every step. Eventually, we bid farewell to the Blue Pearl, carrying its serenity with us as we began the journey to Fes—Morocco’s timeless soul. About an hour into the drive, we stopped at La Pergola by Hôtel Rif, a quiet roadside gem where we shared a fragrant chicken tagine, a fresh mixed salad, and steaming mint tea. It wasn’t just lunch—it was part of the rhythm of travel, unhurried and full of flavor. We grabbed coffees to go and rolled onward. Chicken Tajine The road ...
Race Day: Embracing the Challenge, and Pushing Limits Today was the big one—the San Diego Beach & Bay Half Marathon. We stood at the starting line at 6:30 AM, under heavy skies and cooler air. No blazing sun today, just a thick layer of cloud cover—a welcome gift for runners like us. This wasn’t unfamiliar ground. We’ve run these paths over and over—Crown Point, De Anza Cove, Mission Bay, Pacific Beach. We knew every twist and turn. But that didn’t make it easier. Michelle almost didn’t start. Her back pain had lingered all week, stubborn and unpredictable. But she showed up, like always. Quietly determined. By mile 3, she was locked in. By mile 6, she was flying. But then came mile 10—the farthest we had ever trained for. That’s where things started to change. Breaths became heavier. Footsteps, slower. At mile 12, we hit the wall—hard. Every stride turned into a battle of will over body. And yet, somehow, we kept moving. Michelle crossed the finish at 2:28. I followed just a minut...