Ipeaked: A Reluctant Runner's World is about my 30+ years and over 30,000 miles of running. It's not your typical runner's book since my passion is more about quality of life than running. I am truly a reluctant runner who embraces and enjoys the benefits of the world of running rather than the act. So if you're starting to run or are a seasoned runner or bicyclist: meet my guardian angels, race and train with me, share my life with family and friends, and learn a few things about running (run walk method, paying forward, training schedule, how not to run a marathon and more), cross training (biking and swimming), first triathlon, beginning road biking, and runner gift suggestions. I have mastered the balance of being competitive while adhering to a ?don't hurt yourself? training regimen. It seems to have worked since I'm still at college weight, my butt hasn't fallen off yet, and most of my family and friends are still talking to me.

'Run Therapy: A Bitter Sweet Guide to Running, Evolution and Ice Cream' is a short, personal parody of the 'zen and the art of.....' genre that doesn't quite succeed in not taking itself seriously. It's a tonic for all those who had hoped to get more out of running than they did. It wanders about, not entirely aimlessly, along one ordinary person's journey on foot through the lessons of history, evolution, quantum mechanics and ice cream. At times humorous, at others poetic, this small book tackles the big questions, and offers hope, encouragement and reasons to persevere with that seemingly indefensible folly: running. At the end, there is not just guiltless ice cream, but redemption, salvation and an invitation to some of life's greatest adventures.

'A lack of exercise could be killing twice as many people as obesity...' Research from The University of Cambridge Mounting evidence shows that regular exercise is an essential part of a healthy lifestyle and can help reduce the risk of developing a range of negative health issues. Those who exercise are less likely to get ill and they will generally live longer. Physical activity does not have to be vigorous and people, from young children and teenagers through to pregnant women and the elderly, can incorporate some form of exercise into their daily routine. This book uncovers the physiological advantages of running and demonstrates how a feeling of well-being equips us to handle challenges in life. Start Line goes beyond running and covers the broader topics of flexibility, strength training, high intensity training (HIT), swimming and cycling. There are expert-ratified chapters on pain management, running for women and access for the disabled as well as numerous valuable 'Authors' Tips'. Martin Haigh and Geoff Cumber have been running for pleasure, health and in competition for many years and they bring vast experience to bear in this easy-to-navigate text. Start Line is an inspiring read that shows how and why people can take up the sport of running and gain enormous benefits to their health and well-being.

Zen Track Rambling came about quite by chance: First, as a joyful account to capture the feelings I experienced during my long runs; and secondly, as a means to relieve the pain, depression, and general helplessness I felt during a long-term injury. My running journey has led me to extreme highs, but has also plunged me bipolar-like into the depths of depression. The journey began in Starved Rock State Park, outside of LaSalle, Illinois, in August 1999, when I was an expatriate in Australia working in the States for a spell. At sunrise, I'd run the trails before work, then share in a communal breakfast with my workshop colleagues; yet during the work day, I would drift and daydream. I was fifty-something, and felt disconnected, not knowing who I was or where I was headed. But I put my time to good use during those humdrum workshops: I'd scribble the memories from the day's run on scraps of paper The result of my ennui was an accumulation of paper scraps marked with ruminations of my daily runs. On my flight back to Australia, I gathered those scraps and magically scribed the poem "zen track rambling." The title of the poem, however, is unrelated to my morning runs on the Starved Rock trails even though they were the poem's inspiration; rather, zen track is a name my Australian running mates and I coined to describe a scorching hot, blustery bike path which runs along a railway line-and, which once hosted the infamous Ghan from Adelaide to Darwin-where we often hallucinated as we ran in 100 plus-degree temperatures. As I was living and working in Australia for quite some time, I made a few friends in the South Australian Writer's Workshop, notably Kim, who encouraged me to read "zen track rambling" in one of the Poetry Under The Pier reading sessions in Henley Beach. I remember my first poetry reading like it was yesterday. Somewhat unsure of myself, I drew a deep breath and bared my soul to the gathered throng of poetry lovers. The ensuing positive reception I received convinced me to continue to write down what I felt, envisioned, and/or hallucinated on my long runs. As the years went by, I ran hundreds of miles, maybe even thousands, and the word count accumulated along with those miles. Australia was where I also got into competitive racing. On the weekends, I ran 20 plus-mile endurance runs on the sands of Henley Beach. I ran the annual 30Km South Australian Road Runners Club race many times, but it became less and less of a challenge. I could no longer ignore thoughts of running a marathon I knew I had the distance in the bag since I was already running 20-plus mile runs each weekend on the beach. Completing that first marathon was just the beginning of my long-distance running career. Then, in June 2000, an injury crippled my running life. I had been training for the Corporate Cup, running with guys 20 years my junior and at their pace My 5K time was a sub-20 minutes Not bad for a fifty-year-old But every runner knows that speedwork takes a toll on the body, and running hardcore like that resulted in very painful sciatica. I felt discouraged and depressed, and those feelings became apparent in my writing. When I think back to that time, I realize that writing had become my therapy, my way to understand my own fears and to express a hope I did not yet feel. Many of my poems, particularly, "footsteps in the sand" not only reveal my physical pain but also the mental anguish I felt. When the pain from my injury subsided-it took six long months-I felt the adrenaline urge again, but this time I replaced competitive racing with slow, long-distance running. Similarly, my writing style also changed: I started to write how I felt during those long runs in the form of race reports-instead of poetry-to memorialize my ultra-marathon experiences. My running life had finally pushed me forward into positive places on the trails and my spirit of running was renewed.