I didn’t realize that I had anymore to give until I was running on empty. Three-quarters of the way through a week-long 160 Mile/250 Km adventure race in Iceland, I was on my last leg. Literally. Battered by freezing winds and pouring rain, I was running a marathon a day over jagged volcanic rocks,  which caused me to develop a high ankle sprain. I was at the end of my rope. I had attempted two races previously, only finishing one. Somewhere deep within myself I knew I had the capacity to finish another one, but my foot (now swollen to twice its normal size) was telling me different. When I awoke for the final day facing 45 miles and 70km up ahead, I could barely put weight on my right foot. Unsure if I could run, my tent-mates and teammates Ash and Jesse encouraged me to get out there and just put one foot in front of the other for as long as possible: To get into the arena and do the best I could. …

I remember the time specifically when I realized I could be better than I was.  It was grade 9 and I was running in the 800 M Track & Field City Semi-Finals.  I always competed but was never relevant in placing.   I for once took our coaches advice about visualizing the outcome and playing it in my mind the night before. It was on the 3rd turn with 200 M left that I felt I may have some gas left in the tank and could pass other runners.  Let me be clear, I was not up all night thinking about it.  It was 10 min.   Wouldn’t you know it, on race day at the 600 M mark, like a birdie sitting on my shoulder, I had a nudge to run as hard as possible to the finish. I remembered seeing the way to the finish.  The 800 M is often a big lumpy crowd of 10-15 runners.  I was in the last 3rd and I shot myself up into 4th place and passed a …

He took the road less traveled. He was vulnerable, resilient, deeply human and brought out the best in other people around the world, maybe at the expense of himself.    He opened up an understanding of cultures using the common language of food and wine and addressed tough and often taboo topics. He was an unbelievable storyteller and a lifelong learner. He helped us experience other cultures through his eyes and offer a connectedness desperately needed in the world. While accepting the Peabody award in 2013, he described how he approached his work. “We ask very simple questions: What makes you happy? What do you eat? What do you like to cook? And everywhere in the world we go and ask these very simple questions,” he said. “We tend to get some really astonishing answers.” A bright light in the world was extinguished on Friday but his gifts to the world will never be forgotten.  This is one of the ways I would like to remember him.   “There’s a picture of me and my daughter, aged four, in the Cayman …