The Running Jackal

A solo morning jog around the Cedar Hill Golf Course gave me a refreshing 3.5 km loop, taken clockwise this time. I kept a steady pace of 8:50 per kilometre, letting my legs turn over at an average cadence of 63. The total run time came to 30 minutes and 53 seconds — just enough to break a light sweat and settle into a rhythm. I made the trip to and from the course on my eBike, adding a smooth and quiet ride to bookend the session. It was a simple loop with a touch of adventure, perfect for starting the day right.

A re-worked video slideshow of Rithet's Bog over the years and through the seasons, this will be a video podcast on YouTube:-https://youtu.be/xSCRHoUAdW8

Anti-Clockwise at the Bog

"The Disagreements Episode" – Sidney Run RecapRan with Derick in Sidney today under the warm June sun. We yacked about baseball, Google errors, and whether acoustic guitars count as electric if they've got a pickup. Lots of laughs, a few friendly arguments—about everything from switch hitters to sprinter muscles. Caught a glimpse of the heron, missed the El Camino, and remembered to hydrate this time. Thirty-five minutes of steady steps and steady banter… might call this one the “Disagreements Episode,” but really, it was just two pals sorting the world out, one kilometre at a time.

Today I'm taking you on a neighbourhood loop run starting near Lambrick Park, focusing on hydration and recovery after some recent health challenges. I carry water and reflect on the lesson to stay hydrated, rested, and mineral-balanced, especially after my gastric issues. Along the way, I talk about my wheat beer project, how I had to rebottle a batch, and I bring the leftover grain to feed the ducks at Bow Pond. I stop by the wood stand to retrieve my lucky pill bottle used for toonies, part of my effort to save for winter firewood by collecting returnables. As I near the end of the run, I head toward a local salmon celebration, listening for singing and drumming, and I stay mindful of heart rate, hydration, and the rhythm of this slow and steady comeback.

Here's a five-sentence summary of the transcript: After returning to running following a brief illness, I reflected on recent health issues that led me to visit a doctor, who recommended electrolyte replenishment, increased fiber, and some lifestyle changes to manage possible IBS or GERD. She ordered a range of tests—blood, urine, and stool—and also suggested I temporarily cut out alcohol and adjust my sleep position for better digestion. While running, I adjusted my route into a figure-eight to stay hydrated by hitting drinking fountains multiple times, and I monitored my heart rate to stay within the proper training zones. Despite some gastrointestinal discomfort and elevated heart rates in recent weeks, I'm gradually resuming training with caution and optimism. I shared these updates on my podcast and Facebook pages, thanking those who supported me and noting that I'll continue documenting my journey.

Here's the transcript condensed into five sentences in the first person past tense:I went to the UVic track to do a racewalking workout, warmed up with a couple of laps, and set up my camera to capture my form from a distance. I used a voice recorder in my left hand and wore a heart rate strap to monitor my zones, adjusting my pace to stay mostly in zones three and four. Throughout the session, I reflected on the efficiency of racewalking compared to running, noting how smooth and low-impact it felt on my joints. I reversed direction halfway through to maintain balance and symmetry, and observed others arriving for high jump practice while I continued my laps. By the end, I had captured enough footage, stayed under a nine-minute pace, and felt satisfied with a solid cardiovascular workout.

Victoria Day Run Ran with Derick again today — we got yacking about rock and roll and all kinds of things. Just two good friends out in the wind and drizzle, making the most of a soggy Victoria Day. With the rain coming down, I left the bike at home and opted for a mix of bus rides and foot travel. Saved my one short run for the outing with Derick — but I still managed to rack up a surprising number of short (and not-so-short) walks getting me back home by noon. Sometimes the best runs aren't about the miles, but the company and the conversations along the way.

This morning, I set out on the Blenkinsop Trail under a bright sky and a strong, whispering wind. The urban streets slowly gave way to the forest's quiet pull, where every step felt like a return. A steep climb at the heart of the hike challenged my breath but rewarded me with sweeping views and stillness. I moved with purpose, but never rushed—letting cadence and curiosity guide me. A full-length video and podcast are on the way, capturing the soul of this joyful mountain walk.

Wednesday, May 14, 2025 Running with DerickNice run, Carlos! Looks like you had a solid outing with Derick—good company and good pacing. Keeping in zone two most of the time is great for aerobic base building, and 3.76 km in just over 32 minutes at an 8:31/km pace shows you're staying consistent and controlled, which is key for endurance training. Also, that "running jackal saying bye-bye" line adds a fun personal touch—made me smile. If you'd like, I can help analyze your heart rate zones more closely or create a training log from your runs. Just let me know!

I started my morning run from Elford Street, heading down Johnson Street toward the Johnson Street Bridge, hoping I hadn't missed the bus. Luckily, the bridge was down, so I didn't have to wait for any boats and could cross without much traffic. Along the way, I reflected on how quiet Samantha had been lately and took a short walk break near the Jehovah's Witnesses. I passed by the Inner Harbour, admired the floatplanes, the Empress Hotel, and the Provincial Legislature, and waited to see one of the planes take off. Just as I wrapped up my trailer video, I spotted my usual walking buddy and watched the floatplane lift off toward Vancouver.

I stood at the Hamsterly Beach end of Elk Lake, the cool air stirring old memories as I prepared to run the loop I once knew by heart. This 10-kilometer trail had been my sanctuary, a place where I trained hard—three laps a week—chasing dreams of ultra distances. Letting faster runners pass, I paused at the disabled fisherman's dock, remembering the quiet moments I used to steal here between laps. The trail had changed—some new curves, a bit of reshaping—but the spirit of it remained, echoing with every step I took. As I followed the little group ahead, it felt like I was retracing the footprints of a younger version of myself.

Good morning—Carlos here, drawn back once again to the coastline for a Sunday ramble. The tide was too high to walk the full beach at Arbutus Cove, so I climbed the stairs to take the high road instead. Along the way, I passed blooming lilacs and spotted geese feeding on seaweed below. From Hollydean, I could see the rocky outcrop that rerouted my path, and I finished at Finnerty Cove, where the waves met the rocks in quiet rhythm. I'll be sharing an audio podcast from today's adventure—stay tuned.

Earlier today, I rode out to Cadboro Bay, the wind sharp against me but my recorder steady in my pocket, capturing the quiet moments I didn't want to forget. I kept my pace gentle, climbing through hills with care, thinking about how rhythm and breath make the ride feel like meditation. As I descended the steep hill where my friend once crashed, I eased the brakes, reminded of how memory shapes caution. At Gordon Point, I paused to photograph a distant tanker, its stillness on the horizon mirroring the calm I felt inside. I passed familiar places—old foraging spots and quiet lanes—each one stirring a small sense of belonging. A runner matched my pace on the final hill, and we moved together in companionable silence, just the sound of a woodpecker overhead. When I reached the beach, the mountains rose clear beyond the tide, and I stood still, knowing this ride had given me more than distance—it had given me peace.

While running the Norn Trail this morning, I paused to take a still photo of the elbow tree before starting to record my trailer video. I was moving northward, trying to choose between a confusing web of trail options, but eventually turned left to stay on Norn, passing near Arbutus Mount. I recorded audio simultaneously with a backup mic tucked into my little "baby glove" windsock, just in case the video camera audio wasn't clear. Instead of heading up the mountain today, I continued toward the mystical elbow tree, pacing myself at about 9 minutes and 2 seconds per kilometer. Around the 3 km mark, after a few dips and doodles, I reached the weird tree root formation, right where I decided to end the trailer recording.

I got a ride from Norma to the Heart Institute and decided to run the eight kilometers home from there. Richmond Road was too noisy, so I turned onto a quiet street I'd never explored before, Ernest Avenue. I tried to take a shortcut through a bushy path but ended up tangled in blackberry thorns and had to reroute. After getting a bit lost behind the University of Victoria, I finally found my way back toward Mount Tolmie. I finished my run through Lambrick Park, where I had taken my very first run in Victoria back in 1997.

Carlos is running along the Norn Trail today, starting from the Sea View Inn and heading north in an anticlockwise direction. He's deviating from his usual route, making his way around Mount Douglas toward the swampy area and then up to the lower meadows. Despite some challenges with mud and puddles, he's focused on hitting his training goals, having already burned 300 active calories. He's also been multitasking, making a batch of beer with a new recipe to reduce the malt flavor, while maintaining his steady pace of around 9–10 minutes per kilometer. As he nears the end of his loop, Carlos reflects on his routine and plans for the rest of the day, including some cooking and bread-making.4o miniYou said:

This morning, I set out for a run up Mount Tolmie, Mt. Douglas' smaller neighbour, leaving behind the traffic at Mayfair Drive and heading toward quieter trails. The camas lilies were just beginning to bloom, and though the climb was steady and steep, I paused now and then for breath and photographs. Lizards darted across sun-warmed rocks, and the wind up top carried the songs of birds and the distant glint of boats in the far distance. My pace improved on the way down, and I passed bluebells and daffodils fading into spring's next wave. With the run nearly done and Fairways Market ahead, I talked about compost, pastry dough, and what kind of pie I might make next.

Carlos set out after breakfast on a brisk hike to Cedar Hill Park, planning to record most of his podcast along the way. As he made his way through Bow Park and onto the Feltham Trail, he captured the early morning sounds—woodpeckers tapping, birds calling, and the neighborhood slowly waking up. He paused often to take photos of the Olympic Mountains, the golfers in action, and the dingle-dangles of the maple trees, all while reflecting on his training routine and weekly goals. Throughout the route, he shared thoughts on everything from weather and cooking to long COVID worries and favorite walking spots, letting the conversation flow naturally. By the time he closed the loop and returned to his starting point, he had captured not just audio and images, but the soul of a peaceful Sunday morning on foot.

Today, I set out on my 21-speed 'Norco Malahat' to record a trailer for my upcoming audio episode, the "Lochside Ride", along the scenic Lochside Trail. I passed landmarks like Roy's statue on the trestle bridge and stopped to photograph longhorn cattle grazing in the fields. The ride was peaceful, with birdsong, woodpecker taps, and the occasional rustle of my jacket as I checked my camera and stats. I cruised through parks, past spring lilies, and reached Claremont Avenue before turning around near Mattick's Farm. Wrapping up at the Red Barn Market, I felt content, knowing this quiet journey would soon be shared in sound.

The Whittaker Trail in the Mt. Doug area offers various hiking options for different skill levels. Here are some key details about the trail: # Trail Options - *Moderate Hike*: The Whittaker Trail to Mount Douglas is a 6.1-mile moderate hike with an elevation gain of 344 feet, taking around 3 hours and 20 minutes to complete. - *Easy Hikes*: There are shorter, easier options, such as the Little Mount Douglas via Whittaker and Norn, which is a 3.2-mile hike with an elevation gain of 449 feet, taking around 1 hour and 40 minutes. - *Difficult Hikes*: For more experienced hikers, there's the Mount Douglas Loop via Whittaker, a 9.3-mile difficult hike ¹ ². # Trail Connections The Whittaker Trail is part of the larger Mount Douglas Park trail network, offering connections to other trails, such as: - *Norn Trail*: Connects to the Whittaker Trail for alternative routes. - *Irvine Trail*: Offers another route to Mount Douglas. - *Glendenning Trail*: Part of the Mount Douglas Loop. # Location and Access The Whittaker Trail is located in Mount Douglas Park, near Cordova Bay and Cedar Hill Road in Saanich, BC, Canada ¹.

 I embarked on a high-energy 6K run up Mt. Doug, navigating hilly trails through a forest of Douglas firs and Garry oaks to reach the summit. The climb tested my endurance, especially along the Irvine Trail, named after John and Jessie Irvine, early settlers who arrived from Scotland in 1851 and established the “Rose Bank” farm in the Cedar Hill area. Pushing past the familiar “rock wall,” I maintained a moderate effort, training my body for the final stretches of any challenge. Reaching the summit was a victory, offering panoramic views and a moment to reflect on my journey—from moving to Victoria to embracing daily solo morning runs.

"Carlos Castillo set out on a misty solo run around the back of PKOLS (Mount Doug), where the layers of fog mirrored the layers of sound he described to his listeners. Navigating the twisting trails, he crossed the “fake bridges,” climbed through the muddy Upper Whitaker section, and admired nature's slow pruning of fallen trees. As the rain intensified, he wrapped up his recording from the Whitaker Trail, another chapter in his ongoing journey of movement and connection with the wild."

Jack ran for the rhythm, the movement, and the quiet, no longer chasing medals or records. A chance encounter with a younger runner stirred memories of past races, but he simply smiled—those days were behind him. His running journey had begun decades earlier in Montreal, struggling up Mount Royal, finding a rhythm that would shape his life. Over the years, races tested his endurance, from his first 5K to ultras like the Courtenay to Nanaimo 120K, where he embraced the solitude and grit of long-distance running. Now, every run was a step forward, not toward a finish line, but toward something deeper—something that had become part of who he was.

As I record this video and audio, I'm making my way through the Ferndale Forest on my Hollydene Loop run. I'm currently 22 minutes in, running at an 8:19 pace, though I want to ease back to around 8:45 per kilometre since I'm aiming for 10K today—longer than usual for me these days. The route takes me past Gordon Point Estate and onward to Glencoe Cove, where I spot a small fishing boat on the horizon. As I descend towards Hollydene Park, I take in the view of a couple of big ships in the distance, planning to zoom in for a better shot. Soon, I'll take a short break at a bench near a blooming camellia bush, enjoying the coastal scenery before continuing on.

Carlos wore his chest-mounted camera and carried another device in his hand, ensuring he could record both video and audio while keeping his hands free. As he left suburbia and entered the forest, he took a walk break, passing towering Douglas firs and spotting the sign marking the entrance to his trail. He paced himself carefully, navigating wet rocks and winding trails, all while observing the well-drained terrain and the occasional fallen tree. Nearing Lohbrunner Pond, he set up his cameras to capture footage of feeding the ducks, tossing them oats as they eagerly approached. As they finished their meal, he signed off, saying, “No, I don't have any more for you today,” before packing up and heading back down the trail.https://www.spreaker.com/episo...

Today's episode was a classic back in the bucket run on the West Coast here in BC I slush my way through the puddles on the trails of Mount Douglas got to the summit very little view, but still I took a video and I am sharing this with you now, while I upload the rest of my data.

As I set out on my new 4-mile loop, I start through Bow Park, enjoying the quiet trails before reaching Larchwood via Garnet Road. The route then connects with part of the Cedar Hill Loop, where I settle into a steady rhythm, appreciating the familiar terrain in a new way. I spot a few other runners along the way, exchanging nods as we pass, each lost in our own routines. The final stretch takes me back through winding streets, and I can already tell this loop will be a keeper. By the time I finish, I know I'll be running this route again soon, eager to refine my pacing and make it a regular part of my training.

Carlos Castillo, the Running Jackal, takes listeners along on a dynamic trail run through the golf course, navigating both terrain and fleeting encounters with fellow runners and their dogs. Amidst the rhythmic cadence of his footsteps, he shares real-time reflections on heart rate fluctuations, the forgiving nature of the chip trail, and an upcoming work schedule adjustment. His keen eye captures the landscape through photographs, documenting early spring blossoms and the ever-present ducks eagerly awaiting their feed. As he approaches King's Pond, he prepares for the final segment, setting up his camera to record the now-traditional duck-feeding finale. Wrapping up the podcast, he signs off with his signature farewell, promising to return with more musings and miles on Wednesday.

I started my hike up Mount Douglas, hoping to spot the Canadian Navy vessel Raven 56. Navigating trails like Harrop and Power Lines, I reached Glendenning and checked my app, which confirmed the ship's position. Unfortunately, the glare on the horizon made it impossible to see or photograph the vessel, so I changed plans and began my descent via Irvine Trail. Along the way, I took photos, reflected on my morning, and slipped on wet rock, reminding me of the challenges of downhill running. Despite missing the ship, I enjoyed the outing, recorded bird sounds, and saw it as another good experience for my podcasting journey.

I started my wet solo trail run with a tough hill repeat, pushing through different effort zones before settling into a steady pace. Along the way, I crossed paths with an old running friend, Wendy, and reflected on how people often ask if I'm still running—as if it's something you just stop doing. The route took me through familiar landmarks like the saddle, the fake bridges, and Whittaker Creek, where I finally gave up on keeping my feet dry. While navigating the swampy section, I considered how crutches might actually be better than a walker for an injured runner trying to stay active. Wrapping up near the resort, I checked my run time, captured a few final thoughts for my podcast, and signed off from another satisfying adventure in the “Forest of Fun.”

I put some sodas in the fridge and asked if there were any plans to go out, but the answer was no. I slept from around 7:30 or 8:00 p.m. until midnight, then woke up to messages from England before going back to sleep until 4:00 a.m. In the morning, I rode my bike to Rithet's Bog, stopping to feed the ducks and take some photos. The trail was quiet except for the sound of birds, and I carried birdseed to attract them. As I fed the second group of ducks, I wrapped up my outing at the bog.

Carlos here, heading to Arbutus Cove on a windy day to test recording with both my point-and-shoot camera and my phone for better audio. The storm surge is powerful, tossing huge logs around as I capture video of the dramatic waves. I won't go onto the beach due to the rough conditions, but I'll get some action-packed footage from the steps. Meanwhile, my son is flying back from England, with multiple connections before arriving in Victoria. That's it for today—check my blog for the video, and I'll be back with a regular show tomorrow!

Low volume audio,sorry...Good morning, everyone—I'm on my way to Lohbrunner Pond to feed the ducks, taking a break from effort and running just to soothe my soul. The geese here don't migrate; they stay year-round on the farmer's fields, and I've brought some proper food for them—no bread, just oats, barley, and veggies. The snow is nearly gone now, and though there's still some in the cut-through, the rain will help melt it away. As I pop out onto Donwood Drive, I'll say goodbye to my video friends while my audio friends still hang in there. Now, I'll do one final lap around the pond, watching the ducks follow their leader before I head for home.

I head out to feed the ducks along the Feltham Trail to Bow pond, carefully navigating the icy paths. With my chest-mounted camera keeping my hands free, I scatter steel-cut oats and barley for the ducks on the frozen pond. Afterward, I continue running towards Glendenning Trail, dealing with my camera shutting down in the cold. As I near Harvest Lane, I notice the frozen ruts beginning to thaw and consider switching to an audio podcast for Sunday. Wrapping up my run, I say goodbye before my camera does it for me.

I ran my familiar coastal five-miler, feeling the cold air ease as I warm up. The sidewalks and side streets were damp with melting frost, and the ocean breeze pushed against me as I hit my stride. Afterward, I will gear up my e-bike with big panniers and a bow saw to forage for free firewood. Pedaling through quiet streets, I will scan for fallen branches and cut logs to haul back home. The day will be a steady rhythm of running, riding, and preparing for the week ahead.

I ran across Lambrick Park to the bus stop, no longer on my way to work since my replacement has taken over. I caught the bus to the Cedar Hill Golf Course, where I ran and hiked the snowy trails, choosing to go clockwise to climb the big hill rather than risk slipping down it. Along the way, I observed the snow conditions, took photos, and shared thoughts on oats while reflecting on losing a recording due to a failed file transfer. I saw the ducks at King's Pond, noted the absence of tobogganers, and encountered a few cautious walkers navigating the icy paths. Finishing my run, I caught the 27 bus back to Lambrick Park, completing my planned workout.

It snowed again last night, leaving about half an inch on the trails. The forest paths were untouched, making for slow going, but my trail shoes performed well. My heart rate spiked at times, likely from the “white knuckle” effect of worrying about tripping. I took a shortcut back through the forest, passing plenty of other runners and hikers. Despite the conditions, I stayed upright and burned my planned 600 calories.

Here's a condensed version of my run transcript in five sentences...As the noise faded behind me, I entered the silent zone at the back of Mount Douglas. The resort was to my right, and the forest was to my left. I took my usual route over the wooden bridges, up the hill to Upper Whittaker, through the saddle, down Whittaker past the cave, and back via Harvest Lane. My breathing improved as I settled into Zone 2, and I noticed the fob on my jacket clinking, so I tucked it under my neck warmer. Passing through the saddle, I recorded a short video for my podcast crew before reaching the cave and signing off

On Sunday morning, I got a ride with Norma and Zaryn as Zaryn is headed to the airport to fly to England to visit his boyfriend, Jack. It was frosty and below zero, so I dressed warmly for my run through Pondwood and the Bog, stopping often to take photos of the frosted landscape. While running, I reflected on Zaryn's trip, conversations about early computer games using magnetic tape, and my brewing process for a new batch of beer. As I approached the meadows near Mount Douglas, I realized I was close to meeting my calorie-burning goal, wrapping up my frosty morning adventure.

Morning W/OThis morning, I decided to walk instead of run, aiming for a 26-minute session while commuting to work. I started at 8:01, maintaining a zone 2 effort. My goal was to complete about 4 kilometers before catching the bus. Along the way, I looped through Lambrick Park, taking in views of Mount Douglas and snapping a few photos, though the light was still low for my camera settings. I reflected on recent memories, like receiving a Christmas card from Bill in Ireland, who had visited me in Spain last year. I encountered familiar faces, including some dog walkers, and chatted briefly about leash types and park rules. My pace was steady, around 10:30 per kilometer, and I enjoyed testing my recording equipment while juggling tasks like taking photos and adjusting my earbuds. As I neared Larchwood Drive, I prepared to catch the 26 bus to work, noting landmarks like Sergey's bike and the tennis courts. The quiet morning routine, combined with thoughts of past experiences and a few interactions, made for a reflective and productive start to the day.

I woke up restless after a vivid dream of foraging through the forest, searching for mushrooms and bird eggs. The cold morning discouraged me from riding my steed, so I bundled up and hiked past the cave and into the sunshine. Equipped with my camera and recorder, I documented the adventure, feeling like a true hunter-gatherer on a quest. Along the way, I crossed an enchanted pond, heard other forest dwellers nearby, and encountered a runner resembling a tribesman. As I approached the cave, my spirit lifted, and I ended the journey with a sense of connection to the ancient hunter within me.

I started my trail run on Mount Douglas, aiming to burn 600 calories over about 7 kilometers, navigating swoopy, windy trails that led me into the forest. Along the way, I encountered a frisky dog, chatted briefly with its owner, and observed the changing terrain, from muddy paths to rocky ascents that required careful footing. My pace was slow but steady as I climbed over boulders and admired the crisp blue sky, all while pausing occasionally to take photos and check my stats. The return journey was uphill both ways, challenging my leg strength as I balanced on uneven rocks and made my way back through shaded trails. Despite the effort, I reflected on the pure joy of running for its own sake, savouring the peaceful moments surrounded by nature.