Asia Day 24: Rekong Peo & Intermission

I woke up at 5 am on June 19 and packed up my campsite before any villagers woke up. For breakfast, I ate muesli with milk (powdered) and started running by 6 down the road towards the next big village where I could catch a bus.

Within the first kilometer, I passed a security guard for the hydroelectric project who stopped me and asked if I drink tea. Oh I drink tea! He made me a hot cup and let me sit in his security booth while I drank it.

After snapping a selfie, I was off again on a cruiser downhill road. I enjoyed the sunrise inside the canyon and decided to film a video update for Instagram. While filming, I passed a calm dog sitting on the porch of a house. After passing the dog, I saw it start running at me out of the corner of my eye.

I turned around and started stumbling back and then tripped and fell to the ground. The dog jumped on me, mouth wide open, jaw snapping. For a second, I thought it would do some serious damage as I laid on the ground defenseless. I had no rock or trekking poles in hand. I screamed in fear and flailed my legs kicking at the dog.

Fortunately, it hesitated and then backed away, never going for the “knockout punch”. I grabbed a rock and continued on my way. That was the first time I’ve ever actually been attacked by a dog, and the dog never even barked. That will be the last time I let my guard down around any dog while running.

I continued on to a junction and asked a man, Morang? He pointed right. I asked Rekong Peo? He pointed left. I asked, bus to Rekong Peo? He pointed to a bus stopped at the junction that I hadn’t noticed. I hopped on. As much as I was enjoying the easy downhill road run, I’d rather get miles in the mountains, and I had to bus to catch for Delhi…

Delhi

A dog hunches over in the bus station

A puddle forms underneath, not pee

The guard blows a whistle at people sleeping on benches

I can see no further than 100 meters in the distance

Is it fog?

The red sun rises

I look directly at it

My lungs feel heavy

apocalypse now?

Intermission

By the time this is published, I will have flown from Delhi to Japan to surprise my mom, brother, and sister who are here on vacation. I am spending about five days with them on a break from running. When I Run Earth returns, I will attempt to finish my remaining 622 miles in Japan before returning to Seattle on July ~25. (See the map of what I’ve done so far here).

Thank you so much for following along, donating to the fundraiser, and sending words of encouragement. I hope you have enjoyed the first half of 2025’s production of I Run Earth as much as I have. Here are 10 lessons and reflections so far from my most rugged and remote solo adventure:

1. Don’t panic. Don’t even sweat. The dog never showed the slightest trace of fear through two freezing nights and the climb over an 18300ft glaciated mountain pass.

2. You can always take another step. The dog ran over 100km in 3 days on 340 calories of tuna and still chased big horn sheep up mountains.

3. Watch out for your own hubris. It’s not so bad to go into a long adventure under-confident. Confidence will build over time and it’s almost always better to make the conservative decision. Over-confidence on the other hand can be a real hazard.

4. If you want to push yourself, go further, not off the route.

5. Always ask the locals.

6. If you got it, use it (regarding gear).

7. The best diplomacy is to smile and make eye contact.

8. Fitness is kind of a smoking gun for increasing the margin of safety. In a multi-day endurance event, that means minimizing the loss of fitness rather than gaining it. Restraint is almost always better than pushing harder. I’ve taken rest days far more frequently than my last two adventures and haven’t gotten injured or even dealt with pain.

9. Don’t blow on the cocoon. Jess taught me that it’s possible to make a butterfly hatch early by blowing on the cocoon, but it kills them. Have patience when arriving in a new village. People will take care of you and give you everything you need.

10. Bill Gates says “where you were born is the biggest predictor of your success.” What he meant are that children born in places like New York are less likely to die and more likely to grow rich than those born in Chad. You could argue that being born in New York is like winning the lottery from this perspective. In the Himalayas, I repeatedly saw 70 year old people charge up hills with heavy iron tools at the crack of dawn as part of their morning routine. These folks aren’t poor farmers either. They might also own a hotel or homestay in their village, drive a brand new Toyota, and send all of their children to university. Being born in a Himalayan village seems like winning the lifestyle lottery to me.