It’s been nice and all, these past couple weeks of simultaneously watching “Project Runway” marathons and watching my ass get softer. But now I’m ready to get off the couch and tackle a new challenge. And that’s I why I’m signing up for my very first running race: a half marathon.
OMG, y’all.
I’m a moderately active person. I ride my bike. I walk my dog. I’ve hiked all over the world. But running? No. I have asthma and shin splints and an intense fear of tiny shorts.
But I also have this bizarre desire to invite the things that scare me most into my life.
So, taking a tip from Tim Gunn, I decided to make it work.
I completely changed my running technique so I no longer get shin splints. I managed my asthma with ridiculously expensive inhalers. And … I haven’t been swayed to the tiny shorts side yet.
I still don’t know if I can complete 13.1 miles — like, ever — but it’s worth a try. I can’t reach the finish line if I never start.
Right now I’m conditioning and using a slow but steady training program, but I’m also really enjoying the parts of running that have nothing to do with running whatsoever. Like making running playlists for my iPod. Or checking out running shoes on Zappos.com. Or going to online forums and chatting about running with other people who aren’t running.
My overall goal is to become Gabrielle Reece.
I already know how to play volleyball, so it shouldn’t be hard.
And while I wait for the Gabrielle Reece thing to happen, I’ll be busy messing around with this cool tool, which I found yesterday. It’s a site full of readymade running playlists and songs with pace times. (I like that it has a karaoke section. You know, for those times you just gotta run AND sing.) I’m too embarrassed to reveal what’s on my running mix now, but it might be of the Enrique Iglesias-featuring-Pitbull variety.
Have any of you completed a race before? What was the hardest part of your training? Am I completely insane?
Forget all of the places I’ve seen, the friends I’ve made and the experiences I’ve had. Everybody always asks me the same question about my travels: How did you pay for it?
Before I started my round-the-world trip, I couldn’t imagine how anyone could afford such a thing. It seemed like the most ridiculous, far-fetched idea ever — especially for someone working on a journalist’s salary.
Then one day I realized not every traveler out there is a trust fund baby, and somehow they made it happen. From that moment on, I worked on turning my dream into a reality. Here’s how I did it.
1. I saved. I know it sounds terribly boring, but it’s true. I pulled the reins on a lot of extraneous spending — I stopped going out, I carried my lunch to work, I brewed my own coffee, I watched movies on DVD instead of going to the theater, I quit my online shopping habit. (You already know all of this stuff, but I swear it works.)
TIP: Hard economic times call for flasks, so I created something that I call “purse wine.” When I wanted to be social but couldn’t afford a full night out at a fancy bar, I’d still meet my friends and I’d order a glass of house wine … which I would later discreetly refill from a small bottle in my purse. Everybody wins. The bar still gets money, I have a night out with my friends, and I end up spending something like $10 instead of $40. Be warned, though, I think it’s illegal to carry your own booze into an establishment.
Seriously. They make these wines portable for a reason.
2. I sold things. My car went on Craigslist, my clothes went to a consignment shop, my electronics went on eBay. I also had two huge garage sales. And believe it or not, I still have a lot of things to sell.
TIP: I only reaped a few hundred dollars at each garage sale, and it wasn’t worth it for the time and effort spent putting them together and advertising them. This time around I’m going to try having a virtual garage sale by posting all of my goods on one site, then putting links on Facebook, Twitter and Craigslist. I’ll let you know how that goes.
3. I worked. Nobody paid for me to travel. I didn’t have an assignment. I didn’t have a trust fund. In order to keep my bank account afloat, I sold some freelance writing and photography along the way.
TIP: Most of the longterm travelers I met on the road sustained themselves by designing websites, but other folks were teachers, lawyers, accountants, hair dressers. It’s definitely possible to turn your profession into cold, hard pesos while you’re on the road.
4. I went to cheap places. I’m one of those people who wants to see everything, so I didn’t have a burning desire to go to, say, France over other locales. Since my priority was to make the money last as long as possible, I literally googled “world’s cheapest countries” and built the framework of my itinerary from that.
TIP: Some places turned out to be more expensive than planned (like Argentina and South Africa), which caused me to cut out a few more expensive countries at the last minute (Tanzania, Botswana).
5. I stayed in cheap places.
Sometimes I camped.
Sometimes I slept in dorms.
Sometimes I stayed in places that were worth far more than the $6 price tag.
And sometimes the places looked like crime scenes.
Yes, I could have stayed at nicer hotels, but then my trip would have ended in one month instead of 12.
TIP: Whenever I went to a new country, I booked my first night in advance. After that, I asked other travelers for advice or walked around to find more economical digs. I almost always found a place that was better, cheaper or more comfortable.
6. I ate cheap things. That doesn’t mean I ate bad things. In fact, I ate really well — I just didn’t pay a lot for it.
I kept some staples in my backpack like crackers, peanut butter, packets of instant oatmeal, dried fruit and a jar of instant coffee. That’s what I ate most days for breakfast or lunch. Then I paid a visit to the markets, both to get the local flavor and to get some fresh produce, which helped me toss together some easy, inexpensive meals like instant noodles with spinach, mango and bean salad, stir-fried veggies and rice.
By cooking most of my meals, that meant I had more money to spend on restaurants, pubs and street food. I rarely spent more than $5 a day on food, but I still sampled what every country had to offer.
TIP: Street eats are the best. In my experience, the vendors’ stalls are cleaner than restaurant kitchens, everything is fresh because they have a high turnover of food and you can see exactly what you’re getting into before you ever order or pay. Most important, the food is inexpensive, authentic and not geared toward tourists.
7. I shared. Traveling with two (or more) is almost always cheaper.
TIP: Even though I was traveling solo for most of this trip, I made friends with other travelers along the way. If we were headed in the same direction, I made an effort to see if they wanted to split a cab, a meal or even a room for the night.
For example, Linsay (the Irish lass) and I traveled through most of Vietnam together.
8. I haggled. It is not in my nature to haggle over prices, so this is a skill I worked hard to develop. Basically I learned that you can’t get a discount if you don’t ask. Also, in most of the countries I visited, haggling is expected.
I even managed to get some free pineapple with these dumplings. Score!
TIP: Here are the three biggest rules for haggling: Never look like you are interested in what you’re buying. Have a price in mind and never pay more than that. Be prepared to walk away.
9. I skimped. I couchsurfed. I camped. I volunteered. I took a lot of buses instead of planes. I rented bikes instead of getting cabs. I walked. I asked about free museum days. I found discounts. I used frequent flyer miles. I didn’t buy many souvenirs.
TIP: Every time I booked a tour, I was disappointed. I found that by doing walking tours or putting together my own itinerary, I saw more of the things that interested me and I saved money while still learning a lot about a new place. This street art in Kuala Lumpur, for instance, will never be on any tour — but I’m so glad I found it.
10. I have amazing friends. My computer suffered a tragic death in Argentina, and then I made two South African men very rich while they tried to fix it ripped me off. This put an enormous dent in my budget — and worst of all, I wasn’t able to do my work without a computer.
That’s when my high school boyfriend made a blog about my situation and asked for donations. Friends from all over the world contributed what they could, which lead to the computer I’m using right now. That extraordinary effort meant so much to me, and I am grateful to have such ferociously good people in my world.
TIP: You know that beautiful scene from “It’s a Wonderful Life” where people flood George Bailey with money when he needs it most? I lived it, and it’s an incredible thing. This showed me how important it is to cherish your relationships.
MY BUDGET
I saved $10,000 to begin my trip. I made another $5,000 by working while traveling. Then I was slammed with a last-minute medical bill for $2,000, when my insurance company refused to pay for surgery on my broken foot.
I booked most of my flights in advance using AirTreks, a company that specializes in putting together difficult itineraries on a budget. My flights from continent to continent came to around $2,500 total. I purchased some smaller fights in between, like from Hanoi to Vientiane, when I couldn’t bear to do 30+ hours on a terrible Vietnamese bus.
I spent way too much on gear in advance, giving REI a big chunk of money. Maybe $1,000? I don’t know. I’m trying to block that from my memory.
I’m not one of those people who writes down everything I spend and files it away in a Quicken document. I saw those travelers, and I admire them. But I don’t do things that way, and I didn’t want to spend all my travel time hunkered over a spreadsheet.
Instead, my strategy was to keep an approximate budget of $27 a day. (Hey, that’s cheaper than Rachael Ray’s daily food bill!) I kept track of the numbers in my head, and I was very free flowing about it. Sometimes I came under budget, which meant I could spend a little more the next day. Or, if I spent more than $27, I knew I had to spend less the following day.
I did splurge for some expensive things, like the gorilla trek in Rwanda (the permit from the government is $500), but that was one of those once-in-a-lifetime opportunities. I knew I would regret it if I didn’t do it.
It took many, many $10 days to save up enough for that $500+ day, but you know what? It was worth every penny.
Overall, I spent less than I would have by living in the U.S., but I came home far richer.
Even though I’ve done my best to minimize dangerous situations, there are still moments when I can’t steer clear of menacing cab drivers, guesthouses at the end of sketchy alleys and walking home late at night.
What’s a backpacker to do?
Here are five simple items that make me feel safer — and all of them are small, inexpensive and easy to pack in a bag or purse.
1. Knife. Stab attackers right in the neck! BOO-YAH!
OK, probably not. I know someone would have to be super close for me to actually wield this little guy in defense. But I like that it fits easily into my palm and I can open it one-handed.
Beyond that, this knife has been invaluable for slicing open stubborn packages and cutting stray threads. It even has a bottle opener!
2. Tiny flashlight. A small but mighty LED light packs a punch in dark, scary places. This has come in handy more times than I can remember.
(Shoutout to Steve and Sara for the wonderful gift!)
3. Door stop. I’ve stayed in hostels where the locks don’t work. Heck, I’ve stayed in hostels where the doorknob falls off the door. And sometimes I just get creeped out by the hostel owner. (I am specifically thinking of one weirdo hostel manager who gave me a beer. When I offered to pay he ominously said, “Don’t worry, you’ll pay. Americans always pay.”)
A 99-cent door stop wedges the door shut, ensuring nobody can come into my room unannounced.
It’s a fashion accessory, it’s a traveler’s best friend. Each scarf has thoughtful elements like a hidden pocket, secret zipper pouches and bungees to secure it all to your belt loops. In the event that something terrible happens, you’ll still have a stash of money, credit cards or your passport.
Looks cute after four days of hiking the Inca Trail too!
5. Whistle. I’ve never had to use this one yet, but it makes me feel more confident just seeing it dangle on the zipper of my purse.
BONUS!
You should always bring a baggage lock or two with you. You know this already.
Beyond little combination locks, I also love having this cable lock on hand. It’s perfect for those moments where I want to keep my things safe from grabby hands, but I also don’t want to devote 100 percent of my attention to my bags.
A perfect example is an overnight train — I just use the cable to secure my bag to something immobile, and then I can snooze without worry.
It won’t stop someone who really, really wants to steal my things, but I don’t think anything short of an ACME industrial-sized vault would keep my things completely protected.
I have a lot of people tell me that I’m brave for traveling around the world.
I feel a lot of things, but brave isn’t one of them. However, it got me to thinking about the character traits that do make for a good long-term traveler.
Open
It seems like this would be one trait inherent to every traveler, but that’s not always the case. In Bangkok, I met a Swedish woman who was just starting a six-month trip around Southeast Asia. She wanted to join me for dinner, and I recommended a great street cart nearby. Her response? “Oh, I don’t like Asian food.” Can you imagine how difficult the next six months will be for that poor girl? I’m not saying you have to lose all your inhibitions and give every experience a shot — I’m specifically thinking about that ashram in India where they have big, freaky orgies — but at least inch your way out of your comfort zone. Start with a plate of pad Thai and move on from there.
I had no idea what any of this was … until I ate it.
Polite
I am appalled by the travelers I meet who are condescending, even downright mean, to the local people. A good traveler is respectful and understanding. They realize that every culture is beautiful, even if it differs dramatically from their own. Also, please and thank you make a world of difference when you communicate with others, even when you do it in another language.
Respect the local customs.
Humble
At home I know how to mail a package, order food, visit the doctor. On the road, however, even simple tasks take major effort. Sometimes you will seem like an idiot. Sometimes you will feel like a child. Sometimes people will laugh at you. It can be incredibly frustrating, especially for those of us who like to pretend we know it all, but you’ll just have to suck it up. Also, now you know how it feels when someone visits your home country — and I bet you’ll be a little more understanding.
Syed helped me send a package in India.
Adaptable
Sometimes you have to make do with what you have. Switch to a different bus. Arrive in a strange country at 4 a.m. Take a bucket shower and towel off with your yoga pants. Sleep in a room with strangers. Accept the fact that you got ketchup instead of marinara sauce. Drink the warm beer.
Ah, a refreshing warm beer.
Patient
My rigid, military dad would hate the bus schedule in Mbale, Uganda, for the sheer fact that there is no bus schedule. On the day I wanted to leave town, I stopped by the station at 9 a.m. and asked for the next bus. I was told there were no buses that day. I asked again. I was told there might be a bus. Not sure. So I said, “If there is a bus that left today, what time would that bus leave?” “Maybe noon. Come back later.” At 10 a.m. I returned. That’s when I was told there was a bus, but it would leave at 2:45 p.m. I decided to hang out on a bench and wait — and that’s why I was able to catch the bus, which actually left at 11:25. I have no idea why the bus didn’t adhere to a schedule, and I am still perplexed by how Africans do this on a daily basis. I just had to go with it and sit around until I got what I needed.
You will also have to be patient when your ride gets a flat tire.
Shameless
Once upon a time, I turned on the tap whenever I used the restroom because I didn’t want anyone to hear me pee. I puckered up with stage fright if anyone even walked down a nearby hallway. Cut to a rainy night at a busy corner bar in Kigali, Rwanda. I had to use the toilet, which was basically a hole in an alley, surrounded by a few tipsy pieces of corrugated tin and some cardboard. There was no roof, and the rain was coming down hard and cold. One of my English students took me by the hand, shielding me with a pink child’s umbrella. Another student braced herself against the metal sheets, keeping the tin from falling over in the nasty wind. Squatting and giggling in that alley, I realized I had become less high-maintenence and slightly more audacious. But in a good way.
Francoise held the umbrella.
Persistent
In Ethiopia I came across this phenomenon where I would ask for directions, and the person would tilt their hand from side to side, often moving their finger in a circle. Sometimes I had to ask 14 people the same question just to get down the block. It demonstrated the necessity of asking a lot of questions to get the answers I needed, something that applies to a lot of travel situations.
Even the mannequins don’t know which way to go in Ethiopia.
Trusting
Repeat after me: There are more good people out there than bad people. The good people are generous, they like to show off their city, they are interested in learning about you, and they are quick to help. When you turn yourself over to a place, open yourself to the people there as well, and you will be rewarded.
This family in Mysore, India, treated me like one of their own.
Compassionate
It’s not like you have to solve a huge humanitarian crisis. You don’t even have to volunteer if you don’t want to. Simply taking the time to educate yourself about a nation, a city, a village and the issues they face is enough. Maybe it’ll inspire you to help someone out with a kind word, a helpful hand or a dollar. Or maybe you’ll pack your stories away to inspire someone else someday. Either way, showing concern for others will help put your travels in context and give you a deeper, more meaningful perspective of the places you’ll go.
I didn’t even know the island of Taquile existed until I stayed there.
Curious
Of course this is the big one. If you don’t want to know more about something, anything, everything, you should probably stay at home.
