Saturday morning I wrestled with the pros and cons of hiking. The weather forecasted rain starting around noon. My daughter, who starts her sophomore year at U. of Washington this week, was home for one final weekend. I hadn’t hiked since our birthday trip to Peek-a-Boo Lake. I reflected on resistance and ambivalence and how decisional balance can help us make choices when we face change.
Our 10-mile hike felt like a race against time as a front moved into the mountains. The view is looking due north from the West Tiger 3 summit.
Decisional Balance: Cons
Resistance and ambivalence are normal and expected in the process of change. I tend to focus on obstacles first. If I perceive too many, I avoid the first step, in this case, getting into the car. The roadblocks felt ample:
My daughter was home for the weekend, but she had to work, so I would be hiking alone with Ajax
Hiking half a day meant delaying my weekly blog
We’d get a later start than usual since I hadn’t totally packed
Even in the shoulder season, weekend crowds are still likely on trails
Hiking meant postponing doing my foot and hip rehab exercises
I had no audiobook to listen to on the drive and nobody to talk to
When I listed the cons, I noticed the biggest ones revolved around going alone and prioritizing my time. Then I shifted my thoughts to how I might reframe them into positives.
View toward the east from just east of West Tiger 1, en route to Preston/Bootleg trails. The fall color change has just started!
Decisional Balance: Pros
Reframing is one of the most powerful tools in a coach’s toolbox. It helps us turn negatives into positives. Here’s what I came up with when I tried turning my cons into pros:
Ajax celebrates my achievements at the summit of West Tiger 1. I do so love that little guy.
By reframing my list of cons into pros, I could focus on the main reason to hike: to celebrate! If we don’t highlight and enjoy our accomplishments, they get lost in the rush of daily living. I wanted to pause and do something I love, even if it meant delaying other important things.
Assessing Change Readiness
Enter decisional balance, which is a way of weighing the costs and benefits of choices. For simple decisions, we do this intuitively and quickly, usually without writing anything down. But if you have larger life changes you’ve been considering for quite a while, writing the pros and cons on paper might help.
An example of a hard decision is whether to stay at a current job with people you enjoy that provides security and benefits, but which is totally boring, or to switch to a better-paying job in a new industry with a lot to learn and no guarantees. Which direction you choose depends on your values, identity, and priorities.
One of the tipping points for me in decisional balance was seeing the fall colors. October is a beautiful month to enjoy the mountains.
On our descent, we hit an unexpected obstacle. I’d started composing a blog post in my mind about decisional balance and stopped paying attention to the trail. When we reached a turnstile with a sign for the Bootleg Trail, I stopped in my tracks.
Crud! How did we get on the wrong trail?
The overgrown entry into the forest east of all the logged areas is marked with a small rock cairn and faded pink ribbon on two bushes. The detour beneath the deforested boundary is not marked except by faded blue arrows on the uphill trees.
We weren’t exactly lost. I’d been on this stretch during prior exploratory rambles. But we were too far east. My attempt to access a map showing whether the Tiger Mountain Trail or Railroad Grade route crossed nearby failed. Drat Mint Mobile!
Oh well, I thought, what’s another mile? As we did on Squak, we retraced our steps. Fortunately, I found the bypass trail with faint blue arrows pointing west. Aha! Back on track.
Lessons Learned
I certainly didn’t expect to see Bootleg Trail yesterday. Nor did I anticipate my hesitancy to launch the wellness coaching branch of our company. As in all aspects of life, sometimes our experiences and expectations don’t match.
Yet mistakes are great teachers. And when we make mistakes and say “Oh well, no big deal,” or better yet, “What can Ilearn from this?” we advance toward cultivating a growth mindset.
It’s mushroom season!
Once we reached a trail I recognized, I reflected on the past twenty weeks of coaching classes. I also reminded myself of my intention to continue the forward momentum I’d built all summer. On our way down the Cable Line trail to our car, I shot some videos introducing Webtraining. My first step toward getting less awkward in front of the camera is to take more video selfies while on hikes. I got this!
In the end, my decision to hike yesterday was the best one I could have made. As soon as we got home, it started to pour. The forecast for the foreseeable future is rain. But I’m basking in the glow of a summer of successes and of yesterday’s wonderful (albeit long) celebration hike.
It’s been a very emotional week. Instead of delving into change, I’ve intentionally kept this post playful and lighthearted. Last weekend, my parents, husband, daughter, and I all visited the North Carolina Mountain State Fair in Asheville. We wanted to compare it with our annual visit to the Washington State Fair. You may recall a comparable post in January about visits to the Washington and Alaska State Fairs. Which fair will be next?
My father, a die-hard Yankees fan, treated us all to tickets. He was fascinated by all the colorful rides. And despite afternoon thunderstorms in the region, we had a dry visit.
Animals at the NC Mountain State Fair
North Carolina’s Mountain State Fair is the official “state fair” for the mountainous region of the state. Located in Asheville, it runs for ten days and draws about 180,000 visitors each year. The Alaska State Fair draws close to 100,000, and over a million guests visit the Washington State Fair annually. We enjoyed each of them for different reasons.
While the Washington State Fair has considerably more animals on display, we were impressed with the unusual and unexpected variety at the NC Mountain State Fair. Sea lions swam in two big pools by the south entrance. Ponies provided rides for kids. Metal mechanical bulls were no contest for kid riders. And who can resist newborn calves in the “Mooternity Ward”? They drew as many guests as the Piglet Palace does in Puyallup.
Day-old calf, Candi, in the Mooternity Ward at the NC Mountain State Fair.
Week-old piglets (ten!) in the Piglet Palace at the Washington State Fair.
Exotic Draws
Eudora Farms hosted exotic animals ranging from camels to zebu, and kangaroos to ring-tailed lemurs. I especially loved the African watusi, the “guy with the big horns.” The fair also has two mechanical bulls for kids of all ages. I don’t recall seeing one at the Alaska or Washington fairs. Since my volunteering stint at Woodland Park Zoo ended during the COVID era, it was wonderful to see zoo-like animals again.
My father, daughter, and mother pose next to an African watusi, or “guy with big horns,” courtesy of Eudora Farms at the NC Mountain State Fair.
Senior Citizen, Very Special Arts Categories
We found the biggest differences in the hobbies exhibits. In particular:
NC MSF had a “senior citizens” category separated by age groups, much like Legos for kids at WSF.
NCMSF also had a “very special arts” category for otherly abled entrants to exhibit their creations. I am unaware of either being available through the Alaska and Washington State Fairs, but that could certainly change.
NCMSF offered several special categories for entrants ranging from senior citizens’ crafts …
…to “Very Special Arts” for otherly abled entrants.
A very oversized helicopter made of Lego bricks would not have been acceptable at the Washington State Fair.
Another enjoyable part of the fair was an artisan pavilion where we could watch artists hard at work on their machine knitting, leather crafting, quilling, and even glass blowing. Outside the pavilion, a pair of wood carvers used chain saws on huge wooden blocks, and another put finishing touches of paint on a completed sculpture.
Food at the NC Mountain State Fair
When it comes to food, state fairs have two things in common: large portions and hefty prices. Washington State Fair is famous for its scones. People wait in line sometimes twenty deep to order one.
I was intrigued enough by the idea of a deep-fried Oreo to shoot a picture of the sign, but not enough to try one. And we spotted a “Chicken and Waffles” (i.e. waffle fries) booth at both the Washington and NC Mountain State Fairs.
Interesting enough for a picture.
Fried chicken strips and waffle fries seem to be a common occurrence at fairs.
NC MSF wins for food purchase: a Berry Berry smoothie!
But the most enticing (and only) food purchase we made at any of the three fairs was a Berry Berry Smoothie that we split three ways. Made from four fruits and almond milk, it was the only item that was remotely “health conscious.” By that, I mean it didn’t make any of us feel horrible afterward. Delicious!
Competitions
This year my husband entered five photographs at the Washington State Fair. My daughter submitted entries to the embroidery, crochet, Lego, and papercraft exhibits. I’m still trying to figure out how to turn my passion for helping people and playing with words into visual art others can enjoy.
I call myself the “cheerleader” with bragging rights on social media. Someday…
My husband’s beautiful owl photo earned an Honorable Mention.
My daughter’s whimsical organic build of a dragon drew lots of comments from children as their favorite.
Have you visited the Washington State Fair yet? This year it runs through September 24. We tried our hand at archery near the entry gate. We got to view solar flares on the sun through a special telescope. And we watched a magnificent sword juggler on a high unicycle. Whatever you are interested in, you’ll find it at the fair.
I will be back next week with more reflections on another aspect of change once I am not in the midst of so much of it myself.
This week presented me with a number of blog options during a significant period of change. Shopping with my daughter for back-to-school items. Starting a new physical therapy program. Preparing to visit my parents. Visiting the Washington State Fair. And, tragically, watching a neighbor’s house go up in flames. The bright spot that stood out the most was the “aha” moment I had yesterday during my Master Health Coaching class. It dawned on me that readers might be interested in learning the difference between trainer and coach.
First place in quilling at the 2023 Washington State Fair. One of my family’s traditions is to go on opening day to see how our entries do in various contests.
Personal Trainer Defined
For 25 years I have been the lead personal trainer at Body Results Inc. As such, clients come to me seeking guidance and expertise on how to most effectively prepare for their outdoor adventure, my chosen niche.
Some might be preparing for a backpacking trip in the Grand Canyon or trekking to Everest Base Camp. Others might be interested in climbing Mt. Rainier, Denali, or Everest. A few want to participate in alpine skill-building classes. Occasionally I’ll get a client who wants to ski, kayak, canoe, or even compete in triathlons or marathons.
Trainer or coach? Depends on whether you want to be told exactly what to do or get guidance on a climb. A personal trainer will provide training programs. A climbing coach or guide might actually take you up the mountain.
Personal trainers generally advise their clients what to do in order to best reach their physical goals. They provide recommendations about stretching, mobility, strength training, and aerobic and anaerobic conditioning. Some may also include recovery, sleep, and nutrition guidelines. If you’re looking for someone to develop a program for you and help keep track of workouts, sets, reps, weights, and times, a personal trainer is the person to ask.
Coach Defined
On the other side of the “people-helping” spectrum are coaches. Their primary role is as a facilitator of learning. Coaches work in all fields: life, financial, spiritual, mental health, wellness, career, retirement, family, sales, sports… If you want guidance in some realm, you can probably find a coach for it. Coaches often play the role of educator, guide, facilitator, and mentor all rolled into one. They aim to improve your performance right now, rather than in the future.
Precision Nutrition, touted as “the largest and most respected private nutrition organization in the world,” teaches that coaches act as advisors and collaborators. Their philosophy is to “bring the boats alongside” — i.e. create a partnership where the coach lets the client take charge of their own health decisions. They encourage the development of autonomy and self-efficacy by mastering a certain set of skills that will get the client closer to their goal.
Our Body Results training studio. We even have space and means to coach Z-pulley set up and Prusik set up.
One Big Difference
Ask yourself: Do you want to meet your trainer or coach in person or remotely? Having offered both, I can say there is an obvious, fundamental difference for the consumer post-COVID times.
Traditional personal training (guiding someone through a workout) is more challenging to offer on video calls. I have clients with home gyms who enlist my guidance as their trainer. Others record themselves doing exercises and then submit the video to me for critiquing.
Coach Court and Ajax on Dirty Harry’s Peak with Mt. Rainier in the background.
If you have issues that require hands-on manipulation, form check, positioning, or spotting, then in-person training might fit your needs best. If you know your way around a gym and want someone to develop a program for you to do on your own, remote training could work well.
A coach who offers thought experiments, tracking logs, and conversation can do so quite easily over video conferencing.
Trainer and Coach: Who Are You Looking For?
When you’re thinking about choosing between a trainer and coach, continue asking yourself questions such as these:
What is my end goal? Do I want general improved health and fitness or do I have a specific outcome goal in mind such as climbing the Matterhorn or completing the Snowman Trek in Bhutan?
What skills do I need to accomplish my objective and who can help me build those skills?
Think about what you want in a trainer and coach. Are you results-oriented? Is the goal more important than the journey? Who best aligns with what you want?
What type of person do I want to help me? Do I want to be told exactly what to do, or do I need a partner who will ask me enlightening questions to help me grow and challenge myself?
What obstacles stand in my way? Do I have an injury I need to rehabilitate? Do I have health issues I need to address first? Would help with the mental and emotional side of things make sense first?
Do I prefer meeting someone in person or would a video call, phone conversation, or email suffice?
What must come out of my sessions in order to feel that the relationship has been successful?
Armed with these answers, you will be able to determine whether you need a teacher, a physical therapist, a counselor, a nutrition or movement coach, a personal trainer, or someone else entirely. Each plays a vital and unique role, with different responsibilities and outcomes.
The embroidery piece that won the blue ribbon at the Washington State Fair is an intricate Parisian cafe scene.
My Evolution to Trainer and Coach
If you’re lucky, you might come across someone who has skills in a wide number of the above roles. I have more than 28 years of experience as a personal trainer. In the last seven years, I’ve added nutrition knowledge. Sleep, stress management, and recovery skills. Understanding of change psychology. Coaching skills. And, starting in November 2023, a journal coaching credential. A widely varied toolkit to draw from, depending on the client and what each person wants, needs, and wishes to use.
Evolution and Epiphanies
I’m evolving into someone I don’t yet recognize. (This is, after all, a blog about change.) During a role-play in my Master Health class last night, I had an epiphany. I was acting as the coach and started to have that deer-in-the-headlights feeling of “I dunno what to do here!” In the past, I’ve tried throwing out desperate suggestions: “You could try X. Have you thought about Y? What about considering Z?”
My office desk, where half of my Zoom conversations occur. And where I had my pivotal epiphany.
This time, I stopped. Pivoted. Took a breath. Quickly asked myself, What do I still need to know? A new open-ended question popped up that took us down a brand new path. A new entry into the maze. Exploring that one question led us to a solution my partner, the “client,” came up with. One that pleased and thrilled her. We never would have found it if I hadn’t let that silence be for a few seconds.
At that moment, I trusted the client to suggest her own answer. Precision Nutrition calls the need to fix things the “righting reflex,” the natural instinct we have to give advice, tell someone what to do, and make the problem disappear. That single moment was subtle to my coaching partners, but to me, it felt enormous. I’d broken my habit of “telling someone what to do.” I have finally metamorphosed into a trainer and coach.
Three things make me really happy: Hiking with my dog. Completing a challenge. And helping clients expand their potential.
Trainer and Coach: How About Both?
The good news is you can have a trainer and coach. Me! While I have been contemplating leaving personal training to become a full-time coach, there are benefits to continuing both.
Nutrition, personal training, journaling, sleep, stress, and recovery credentials all make me a well-rounded health and wellness coach, with access to a wide variety of tools to help you move toward your objective. And even better news is I am opening several more training spots for the remainder of the year.
If you are seeking a trainer and coach, let’s have a conversation to help you find your unique path forward.
Several weeks ago, a writing partner told me she’d mentioned my blog to a hiking friend of hers. Her friend didn’t find what she was looking for in my recent posts. It appears she was looking for long, tough hikes with huge elevation gain. When my friend called her friend a “hiking snob,” I laughed. Perhaps she just wasn’t interested in the change messages I shared. But on a family hike to Peek-a-Boo Lake yesterday, I thought about how stringent rules make us miss a lot in life. How might you rewrite the rules to get more from your life?
My hiking partners are ready to rewrite the rules with me.
The Drive
We left Seattle yesterday morning at 7:40 under overcast skies. We mistakenly headed toward Monroe before realizing we needed to go due north to Everett. Oops. I didn’t calculate the distance properly; my estimation of 1.5 hours ended up being closer to 2.25 hours.
When we pulled into the Beaver Lake Trailhead to use the Portapotty (since Peek-a-Boo doesn’t have any facilities) I checked the mileage sign for an idea of other hikes in the Darrington area. Refreshed and certain we were close, we drove up the forest service road toward Peek-a-Boo Lake. And that’s when the wonder and awe began, along with a very long, slow drive.
Five miles of brushy, one-lane, potholed road. By giving myself permission to rewrite the rules, we get to explore pristine forests in out-of-the-way places where berries burst off bushes and nobody else is there to bother us.
Obstacles
How long can five miles take to drive? Forever, if the road is narrow and brushy. The one-lane road was in fairly decent shape, but we had to hop out several times to clear branches and debris. A downed tree across the road provided JUST enough clearance to pass underneath without getting stuck. We proceeded slowly so the branches wouldn’t damage the paint on our car.
A downed tree across the road provided just enough clearance for our vehicle.
Rewards
Eight ruffed grouse, about the size of chickens, ducked in and out of the brush. My husband, a master birder through Seattle Audubon, pointed out that they collect gravel from the road to help with digestion. This sighting boosted my hiking bird list to 32 unique species in August, one of the less birdy months of the year. The other dozen species on this trip included golden-crowned kinglets, western tanagers, and evening grosbeaks.
Fog loaned an ethereal quality to the morning. Water droplets collected on spider webs, highlighting the silver strands and making the mossy mountainside mysterious and mystifying. We finally pulled into an empty parking area with space for about a dozen cars. I couldn’t wait to discover what this trail had to offer.
Delicate maidenhair ferns – my favorites – covered in droplets. I never would have guessed the Pacific Northwest had been in a drought since early July.
Why Hike Peek-a-Boo Lake?
Why Peek-a-Boo? Both my husband and daughter preferred something under eight miles without much elevation gain. At five miles and 1500 feet of gain, this hike fit perfectly. My daughter wanted to explore another alpine lake and perhaps collect berries. Ajax likes shade, running water, cool temperatures, and the ability to hike off-leash with his family.
In some ways, I resemble the hiking snob. Ajax and I usually cover 8-15 miles with 3-4000 feet of elevation gain. We prefer overcast and cool days with a crack-of-dawn start to avoid foot and car traffic. This summer I’ve had to rewrite the rules. I chose nine hikes that my daughter (a night owl) could enjoy. When my husband offered to join us, I put my intended destination, Island and Rainbow Lakes, on hold. Time to rewrite the rules.
Fascinating old-growth trees with interesting shapes and textures reach up into the fog. If we don’t rewrite the rules, we might miss out.
Could we visit a beautiful place I’d never been before? Have some unique bird encounters? Find a trail nobody else was using? The trail register just beyond the parking lot indicated that the last visitors were two hikers three days earlier on Sunday. We had the trail to ourselves. Success!
Berry Surprise
We reached the lake around noon, chatting about my daughter’s teachers over the years. Keeping both my husband and daughter talking means I don’t have much time to think about my blog. But this was my birthday. Last year we took a boat tour to the Kenai Fjords in Alaska. This year, we could include our dog. Rules are meant to be broken. And when you’re working with a wellness coach, you learn how to rewrite the rules.
The biggest surprise was finding bushes all along the lake bursting with berries. For an hour we collected wild huckleberries and blueberries. It reminded me of the family trip to pick alpine berries on Mt. Catherine two years ago, another hike that doesn’t “fit my usual rules.” Frankly, if you intend to spend any time picking berries, you probably don’t WANT to be on a long hike!
A handful of blueberries we picked at Peek-a-Boo Lake.
Lakeside bushes bursting with berries
Could I Rewrite the Rules?
I started writing this post thinking we wouldn’t return to Peek-A-Boo Lake. It takes so much effort just to reach the trailhead. But then I asked myself one of the “crazy questions” that Precision Nutrition coaches like to ask when they guide clients to rewrite the rules.
What could get me back there? I realized I needed to continue to rewrite the rules. If I hosted someone who wanted a shorter hike, the conversation in the car could make the long drive worthwhile.
If I were camping at the Clear Creek Campground for a week, I’d set myself up with a bunch of shorter day hikes to explore including Peek-a-Boo. And if I wanted to have a writer’s retreat away from the craziness of busy Seattle, what better place than visiting a lake that few people hike to?
Our rule is to go into any alpine lakes we visit. I chose to rewrite the rules for Peek-a-Boo Lake on a foggy, chilly day: wading works for me!
Your Turn To Rewrite The Rules
How about you? Do you have any unspoken rules that are weighing you down? Where did they come from? Who made them? Think of a rule you’d like to change. Maybe it’s as simple as “I can’t watch TV without eating a snack,” or “I can’t see a movie in the theater without popcorn and soda.” Have you ever tried? What could your new rule look like?
Another common rule might be, “For exercise to count, it has to make me sweat and be longer than an hour.” Says who? If you have five minutes, you have enough time to exercise.
Ajax is on high alert watching a squirrel race up a tree. He’s so well trained, he knows not to chase.
If you like what you read in this weekly blog and you’d like to talk to me about what you’d like to change, please connect with me. I’d love to help you discover your unspoken “shoulds” and help you rewrite the rules. Please share in the comments.
Excessive heat and poor air quality make everything more challenging. (Wildfires are burning in the Pacific Northwest.) Fortunately, most of my Body Results clients are climbing or have finished their summer adventures, so I am calling late August my “summer vacation.” But not without plenty of hard work. In addition to working through my 20-week-long Master Health Coach course, I’ve been eliminating addictive tendencies. I’ve discovered that taking action before motivation strikes is the key to getting unstuck. If you wait for motivation, you may never act.
Ajax poses on the bench at the summit of Cougar Mountain in the Whittaker Wilderness on August 19.
Return to Whittaker Wilderness
Pondering the complicated nature of addiction, I returned to Cougar Mountain with Ajax to celebrate a break in the heat. Saturday dawned in the low 50’s — perfect hiking weather. The morning’s weather report warned that shifting winds would bring wildfire smoke into the Puget Sound area. I didn’t want to risk getting caught in smoke like we did last fall (see my blog about a hike to Melakwa Lake). Even though I avoid hiking on weekends, we couldn’t pass up this opportunity.
The last time I hiked in the Whittaker Wilderness, I wrote about “Expecting the Unexpected.” In it, I shared how all three of us struggled with different aspects of the hike. On this trip, ready to redeem ourselves, Ajax and I hiked in the opposite direction, reaching the summit via the Gombu Wilderness Cliffs trail. We also visited Shy Bear Marsh, Long View (without a view), and Doughty Falls (which is now just a puddle), complete with a geocache we missed on our first visit.
Ajax poses by a moss-covered log in the early morning sunlight. I often take action before motivation by setting out my pack. He then does the motivating for me the next day.
Tsonduko: Love of Lots of Books
As we hiked, I wrestled with my thoughts. I’d successfully broken my addictive tendencies around chocolate, fruit, and playing a game on my phone. How could I break my addiction to books? Authors have the best excuses in the world for collecting them. We study them for craft. Keep books we love or stories by authors we wish to emulate. Celebrate writing friends’ successes by buying their new releases. Accumulate piles of those we want to read someday. There’s even a Japanese word for such amassing.
Tsondukorefers to the shelves of books you’ve acquired but haven’t yet read. In his Big Think article about the art of amassing books, Kevin Dickinson concludes that “the value of an unread book is its power to get you to read it.” Enter my problem: Faced with too many choices, I have been reaching for pen and paper rather than books. I needed to make some changes.
A community library north of my house which I recently donated generously to. Most of the boxes around me are now full, poised for back-to-school reading, perhaps?
At the start of summer, I promised myself I would pare down. But with Labor Day in two weeks, I hadn’t gotten motivated enough to start. Fortunately, my daughter loves books almost as much as I do. But she doesn’t have the same collection tendencies. She’s asked several times in the past few weeks, “Ready to sort books?”
Action Before Motivation: Don’t Wait
When Ajax and I returned from our hike, I felt something shift inside. I remembered what Marie Kondo suggested about gathering similar items together. Without a second thought, I grabbed an armful of books and carried them downstairs. Before I realized it, I’d moved all the books from the shelves in the guest room and home gym. No turning back!
My daughter’s interest in helping me provided the tiny spark I needed to begin. I simply took action before motivation ever appeared.
Now all of my books sit waiting in the basement. Every time I pass through there, I remember my commitment. Whenever I walk Ajax, I load books into a backpack and return the discards to Little Free Libraries so other community members can enjoy them.
A Little Free Library near the stairs down to Lake Washington which I visited on my Cedar Park Elementary School ramble.
Takeaways of Action Before Motivation
Several takeaways from this experience stuck with me.
I don’t know what made me grab the first few books. Thoughts about the successful Yard Share event? Not wanting to disappoint my daughter? Getting fresh air with Ajax? I know that taking action before motivation works. Nothing will stop me now.
Mushrooms peeking out of the dry soil.
Sometimes we need to contemplate change for some time before we’re finally ready to act. Last week I discussed the five stages of change and reflected on whether I was in the Preparation phase. Hiking, participating in the Yard Share event, and having my daughter offer to help have all moved me into the Action phase.
Think about a big change you want to make. List all the reasons (are they excuses?) you haven’t yet made the change. If “lack of motivation” tops the list, break your list into steps you could take. Make them into small actionable items. Then take the first step. If your goal is to climb a mountain, it requires one step at a time. Take action before motivation and your motivation to follow through will grow.
This week I feel like I’ve entered the “preparation” phase, the third of five stages of change. Stage three includes recognizing that change is imminent. But how remains unclear. In the preparation stage, we gather strategies and resources, take three steps forward and two back, and start to grow a sense of self-efficacy that maybe we CAN, indeed, change. The events that helped me move into this stage included a foggy hike of South Tiger Loop, a community-wide Yard Share event, and discovering my Change Capacity Assessment has improved over one I completed four months ago. What are you trying to change? Which of the five stages of change are you in?
We spotted huge nurse logs on South Tiger Loop. Change is inevitable. Preparation is the third of the five stages of change. Why do we resist so strongly?
South Tiger Loop
Last week’s adventure included exploring South Tiger Mountain Loop with Ajax and a friend. My daughter chose to sleep in that morning. My friend warned me that someone had reported a bear where we were headed. That was a double incentive for me, as I adore bears. Whether she felt nervous or just excited to get me caught up on her summer, I don’t know, but she maintained a constant chatter for much of the hike.
Every so often I dropped back to listen for birds. When a football shape swooped behind me, I let out a startled exclamation. She whipped around to see me peering through dense foliage. I mentioned that I’d spotted a barred owl. She seemed disappointed. At the end of the hike, my backpack accidentally brushed her shoulder. She let out a screech that left me as nervous as she must have felt.
A football-sized Barred Owl swooped in right behind me.
Marine Fog
We only encountered two other people on our hike. In addition to the solitude, what impressed me was the dense fog layer. We typically don’t get fog until fall. Was Mother Nature signaling a change? Might we skip wildfire season altogether and receive early rain?
As I write this a week later, however, we’re experiencing temperatures soaring above 90. It’s uncomfortable enough for me to postpone long rambles or short hikes with Ajax. I won’t risk exposing anyone to heat exhaustion – been there, done that, prefer not to repeat, thanks. Right now, it seems downright dangerous to let dogs wearing fur coats exert themselves for long periods of time. We can wait.
Fireweed in the fog near the South Tiger Summit.
Non-Linear Pathways
Just like humans going through the five stages of change, Mother Nature also flits back and forth, showing signs that change is imminent and then changing her mind at the last second. My transition to an empty nest has had similar fits and starts. A year of a mostly-empty nest. Summer with my daughter at home. And now as she prepares to return to college, I face a second year of a mostly-empty nest. This time, I feel better prepared. I am gaining self-efficacy.
Yard Share Community Event
The second event that got me thinking about the five stages of change was a community-wide Yard Share. In the Lake City area, seventy households agreed to participate. Think “garage sale” but without price tags. Saturday morning we set out stuffed animals, games, books, clothes, a trifold mirror, baby gate, posters, toys, and a few other miscellaneous objects that we’d stockpiled to donate to Goodwill. Maybe someone in the community would be able to enjoy them instead.
The Lake City area Yard Share event on August 12 included seventy different households.
Our Finds
We visited six Shares within walking distance, a family outing we could all enjoy with Ajax. We came back toting a treasure trove that included:
A brand-new vacuum cleaner which I used that very afternoon. Timely, as I am about to retire mine
An enormous, brown stuffed bear my daughter named Nora
Three jackets and a wicking hiking shirt
A mug
Four puzzles (one of which is missing a few pieces, but that’s okay, we can’t expect much for free)
More goodies and the QR code announcement sharing the other locations of the Yard Share event.
By the time we cleaned up around 8 Saturday evening, we’d cleared out about 75% of the items. Our next trip to Goodwill will be much easier.
Change in the Air
On a walk with Ajax the following morning, I realized I’d taken two months to follow through on an earlier commitment to bust clutter this summer. The external event with a deadline — a commitment to an outside party — helped get me to break through my inertia. By reducing clutter, I created additional space and capacity – both mentally and physically – for change. Another example of being in the preparation phase of change.
One of my daughter’s goals for the summer was to have a yard sale. While we didn’t make any money, she got the same experience putting it together, without the headache and hassle of having to sit still for eight hours or haggle over dimes and dollars. She’s going through massive changes as well. We all are.
Beautiful wildflowers on S. Tiger Loop.
More beautiful wildflowers on S. Tiger Loop.
Stages of Change: Change Capacity Assessment
The final piece of evidence that suggests I’m in the preparation stage is my recent results on Precision Nutrition’s Change Capacity Assessment. Feel free to take it yourself and see where you stand.
At the start of the summer, I scored “105/180” (the sum of all numbers, out of ten possible, on the 18 questions). Today I scored 128, an improvement of 23 points. While I may not be totally “ready, willing, and able” to make changes across the list of possibilities, in some areas, I am.
What changes are you in the midst of making? Have you been stuck for some time? If you score a 5 or lower on any question on the change assessment, take note. You may be facing strong resistance. Awareness is half of the battle.
The signpost leading to South Tiger Summit Trail. Which path will you take next?
Stages of Change
In fact, if you aren’t even acknowledging the need to change, you are still in the “pre-contemplation” stage. As you gather resources and get more comfortable with change in the “contemplation” stage, you may find that the cons outweigh the pros. In the “preparation” stage, you realize that the pros outweigh the cons and you get ready to take action.
In several areas, I’ve already headed into the “action” stage, such as launching my new coaching practice. It might be slow, but I’m laying the foundation. In others, like taking a technology or Chat GPT class, I’m back in pre-contemplation. And in others such as living gluten-free and sugar-free, I have reached “maintenance,” where the habit is well established with very few, if any, relapses. Be gentle with yourself and remind yourself that change does not happen linearly. It’s normal to wander all over the place before reaching the maintenance phase.
Ajax on our hike to Rachel Lake, getting a drink from the mountain stream.
But the empty nest change? I will probably continue to weave in and out of it for the next three years. Change happens on its own timetable. If we have pressure to change — like the Yard Share deadline — we might change momentarily, but then return to old habits. The more we practice sustainable change, the better we can navigate the murky waters and the more confident we can be that the change will hold.
If you found this article intriguing, insightful, or useful, please share your comments in the space below. I love hearing from readers.
For anyone joining my blog after January 1, 2023, here’s a brief summary of our Active Ajax Adventures project. The quest: 52 unique adventures (one per week) with my 8-year-old Labraheeler and wonderful hiking partner, Ajax. The requirements: each green space ramble would last longer than an hour (and could include hikes), without repeats. I abbreviated the quest to “AAA”. The project was every bit as useful to me as the American Automobile Association is for drivers. Although I hesitate to do much with Chat GPT, I found one suggested AI headline to be appropriate: Paws and reflections. You be the judge whether it hits the mark.
Ajax heads off the trail for a drink of water near Snow Lake.
Project Kick-off
In my second blog post of the year, I asked myself, “Why would anyone want to read about this?” Frankly, it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks about your intentions as long as they ENERGIZE YOU. By using a tool Precision Nutrition refers to as the “Five Whys“, I drilled down to my Big Reason for completing this project: “As a way to explore mindfulness, learn to become more fully present, and experience joy in tiny moments.” In short, I framed it as an experimental path toward contentment and well-being.
Happy cooled-off swimmers about to leave the buggy shores for the hot trip out of the basin at Snow Lake.
Paws and Reflections: the Murky Middle
We zipped along with our project for the first half of the year. But in early June, I almost gave up. I shared why in a post about feeling stuck called “Murky Middle: How to Follow Through on Intentions.” By modifying some of my own guidelines (after all, I made them up, I can change them!) I decided to take our rambles to the mountains. My energy immediately surged forward again.
The last quarter of the project has been my favorite. My teenage daughter, home for the summer, joined us for 9 hikes. Although my husband and I have been wrestling with “a partially empty nest” since fall 2022, it feels like having her back has erased our progress on that front. But our relationship is so much richer than it ever was. We can relate to each other as adults. I absolutely love this phase.
Clear, beautiful waters of Snow Lake as we climbed out of the basin in the heat of midday.
While we have stumbled over some obstacles, especially in Cougar Mountain’s Whittaker Wilderness, we have also discovered a common passion: visiting — and swimming in — alpine lakes.
The Joy of Alpine Lakes
Of the nine hikes Ajax and I have done with my daughter, most included lakes or waterfalls. The most memorable, Mirror, Snow, and Rachel Lakes, all involved swimming for at least half an hour.
Paws and Reflections: My daughter made her way out to this rock in the middle of Mirror Lake. She had a blast doing jumps and cannonballs into deep water. Ajax preferred to stay on shore and supervise.
Mirror Lake
The rutted gravel road to Mirror Lake trailhead was the most challenging for us to navigate this year. It easily added an extra half hour in the car, sometimes at 5-10 mph. However, the PCT is a beautiful trail, and we encountered very few hikers on a Thursday in July. I’d only been on this trail to Mirror Lake once before, in November of 2021 in snow, so it felt new to me.
On this particular hike, the biggest surprises were:
The duration of my daughter’s swim (nearly an hour)
How much improvement she’d made in strength and conditioning in only two weeks (either that, or she’s very motivated to see lakes!)
Not a peep out of Ajax, who waited patiently by the shore, with wet paws. He’ll go in if we carry him in but otherwise, he’s nothing like other Labrador Retrievers.
Deep, emerald waters of Mirror Lake along the Pacific Crest Trail. When I saw my daughter go in for a swim, I simply had to join her. A new mother-daughter tradition was launched.
Snow Lake
Another fun trip was a midweek hike to Snow Lake with my college crewmate and her teenage son, a student at the University of Washington in my daughter’s year. This destination at Snoqualmie Pass is incredibly popular, especially since some of the water-play trailheads along I-90 are closed this year for construction and trail maintenance. While we enjoyed spending two hours at the lake, I worried about how Ajax would do going back.
The rocky south-facing slope heats up significantly in the middle of the day. When I noticed Ajax overheating, I handed my car keys to my friend to get the air conditioning going in the car. My daughter and I slowed our pace and coaxed Ajax out. He’s done a phenomenal job this year, but he’s not getting any younger.
Paws and reflections for my fearless hiking companion. He loves watching critters and doesn’t seem to be bothered by bugs.
Paws and Reflections: Where’s the Finish Line?
A few days later, I stalled again. I really wanted to finish our Ramble project with a special, meaningful, new-to-me or favorite hike, but most of the ones on my list were either too long for my daughter or too hot for Ajax.
Rachel Lake
Finally, on Thursday, August 3, we found the perfect destination: Rachel Lake. Not only were there relatively few people, but the first 2.75 miles are lovely, rambling through meadows and forest along Canyon Creek with plenty of wonderful photo opportunities. It took us four hours to reach the lake (and two hours out) because we kept finding places to stop.
The author takes a super-quick dip in Rachel Lake, the coldest alpine lake we’ve visited this summer. The breeze didn’t help matters any.
The trail was not without its trials. My daughter had a boot mishap at the second stop. While interesting, the copious roots, stones, and route-finding issues on the trail between mile 3 and the lake (a gain of 1200 feet in 1.25 miles) frustrated my daughter, and the steep steps challenged Ajax. The horseflies were annoying. I was the only one who had brought food.
Repeat in the Future?
When I asked my daughter if she would consider going back, she gave me an emphatic no. The steep jumps left my dog’s tail tucked and droopy for a good two days. Can a dog break his tail? Where was all his energy? I might be tempted to return in a month to see the fall foliage, feast on ripe blueberries, and add an extra two miles to see the view from Alta Peak. But I’d be going by myself.
Ajax and I wait for Brooke to come up from her swim. Rachel Lake is beautiful but cold.
Ramble Project Takeaways
This project was wonderful in so many ways, but I’ll share three highlights. First, it got me out of my comfort zone, visiting new places. I’d become a creature of habit the past three years, going to the same places each year. This year Ajax and I expanded our repertoire by a fulleighteen locations, many of which I now suggest to clients who are looking for less-populated hiking trails.
Second, it made me want to continue to explore new dog-friendly locations. There are so many wonderful places to visit in the Pacific Northwest that are not overrun by people. What’s more, my daughter wants to keep building her stamina and tolerance for elevation gain so we can visit harder-to-access alpine lakes such as Blanca Lake whenever it re-opens. We might even try some backpacking next summer!
Paws and Reflections: a mother and daughter selfie at Rachel Lake while Ajax rested in the shade. I am thrilled beyond belief that Ajax and I have been able to add her presence to our last nine rambles.
Finally, knowing how close I was to quitting the ramble project in June, I’m delighted that we kept going. By doing some “paws and reflections” I’ve come to see just how fabulous these last nine hikes have been with my two favorite hiking partners. Completing my intended objective feels great. And I have a new hiking partner, at least for a few more weeks.
On July 11, I considered skipping my intended hike. Hey, it happens to all of us. But when I saw high, wispy clouds, I convinced myself that it could be a good day to get a view of Mt. Rainier from Debbie’s View on Squak Mountain. Ajax picks up on clues quickly; he whined excitedly the night before when he saw my backpack. Committing to 52 unique adventures with him kept me engaged and interested for the past seven months. But what sent me to the car that morning was the idea of a view and of hearing varied birdsong. By visiting Squak’s Central Peak, we may have identified a new favorite mountain to explore.
Like Tiger and Cougar, Squak Mountain provides a lovely interwoven lattice of trails that result in a “choose your own adventure” ramble, just what I was looking for.
Wrong Turn
As I drove past the Poo Poo Point trailhead off Exit 17, I realized that Cougar and Squak Mountain were accessible from Exit 15. Oops! I’d been on autopilot, listening to an audiobook about becoming more productive. Ironic, I know. Assuming May Valley Road would eventually lead me to something we could hike, I continued south and then turned west.
We pulled into the May Valley parking area to find 5-6 cars already dotting the lot. A solo trail runner stretched at her car. Cedar waxwings squeed near the Portapotties. I have never hiked on Squak before, so I figured we’d take our chances. If not than Debbie’s View and Margaret’s Way (the westmost trailhead, 6.5 miles with 1500′ gain), we’d find something else for our 48th ramble.
This time of year the bridges all cross dry stream beds. An invitation to visit seasonally to see the changes!
Benefits of May Valley Trail
From the May Valley Trailhead, we followed signs for Central Peak (6.6 miles with 2,320’ gain). My auto-pilot mistake resulted in finding an even more appealing option than West Tiger 3 (5 mi. 2100′ gain).
On our ascent, we encountered only three people: a woman and her dog (who admitted she never sees anyone on that trail, and we’d have the upper mountain to ourselves) and two solo trail runners. The May Valley Trail on the south side of Squak gets very little highway noise. The mountain has not been logged like Tiger, and we found plenty of opportunities to create our own adventure. The only drawback this time of year is the lack of running water. Fortunately, I carry plenty for Ajax although he prefers streams.
Encountering this sign on Squak Mountain piqued my curiosity about the Bullitt Family legacy.
Solitude and Quiet
The May Valley trail is lovely, lush, green, and well-signed. I did some research afterward to find out more about the Bullitt Family who once owned much of the land and donated it to the state as a wilderness public park. I don’t often learn about the history of a place ahead of time (especially if I “wing it”!) but in this case, I was curious and wanted to know more.
(By comparison, during a recent hot-weather visit to Snow Lake, we encountered so many people that I only heard eight species.) I also shot 53 photos including trail signs, acting as breadcrumbs that could help us navigate back to our car.
Tiger, Cougar, and Squak all have excellent trail signs to help you navigate.
Squak Mountain: Bullitt Fireplace
One of the reasons I love exploring is feeling like an adventurer and discovering curious new-to-me things. When I saw the sign for Bullitt Fireplace, I had no idea I’d actually find the remains of a stone fireplace, the remnant of a two-room vacation cabin built in 1952 by Stimson Bullitt. That sparked my imagination. How long did it take to build it? Where did they get the materials? Did they have to bushwhack or did they have crude roads to haul rocks and timber? How often did they use it? And why did vandals destroy it?
I did some digging later to learn more about Charles Stimson “Stim” Bullitt. He had the cabin built in 1952 as a weekend retreat and climbed in the Cascades until the age of 87. At 62, on his third try at North America’s highest peak, Bullitt summited 20,320-foot Denali. His family owned and managed Seattle’s KING radio and TV stations, and his extensive real estate holdings included 590 acres on Squak Mountain which the Bullitt family later donated to the state to form the nucleus of Squak Mountain State Park. Hiking gives me a growing appreciation for what this land looked like before settlers “conquered” and tamed it.
A picnic table set at Bullitt Fireplace, all that remains of the Bullitt Family cabin.
Squak Mountain: Chybinski Loop
We continued beyond Central Peak, expecting to find a view somewhere, but we missed the power station and reached a sign for Phil’s Trail and Old Griz before backtracking. Determined to see what else we could find, we decided to visit West Peak. Perhaps it would have more of a view.
Chybinski Loop includes a very steep trail to a tiny sign for West Peak, where some sort of shack must have once stood but has since been flattened. I had the brilliant idea to find the hook-up of the loop instead of backtracking. “I’m not going back up that,” I thought. Famous last words.
All that remains of the shack at West Peak.
Squak Mountain: Debbie’s View
Eureka! Only .3 miles farther, we found signs for Debbie’s View, our original destination. As we added yet another extension, I did the mental math. Could we end up covering ten miles round trip? Unfortunately, the low clouds obscured any view we might have had of Mt. Rainier, so we didn’t linger. Then I got the bright idea to drop down to Margaret’s Way and return to May Valley along the perimeter trail.
Halfway down the wide, hardened trail toward Margaret’s Way, we encountered three women with a dog, followed by three others a few minutes behind them. Out of curiosity, I asked if they knew how much farther the perimeter trail was. One of the hikers – the one who spoke English – said I was mistaken, and I would need to backtrack to Bullitt Gorge. Bummer.
Goatsbeard, bleeding hearts, and clouds – but no view of Mt. Rainier from Debbie’s View.
Hasty Retreat
Always question assumptions! Fortunately, on an overcast day, more mileage never hurts. We still had water and food, and the shade and clouds were keeping it cool enough for Ajax. We backtracked at high speed, quickly leaving them behind to regain our solitude. By that point, I no longer felt as confident in my assumption that Bullitt Gorge would return us to May Valley (it does.)
Faced with adding even more mileage if I turned out to be wrong, I chose the known path back. My commitment to “not go back up that,” referring to Chybinski Loop? It honestly wasn’t as bad the second time around.
Spot the pup! The storm devastation through thick rambling woods on Squak Mountain’s Chybinski Loop.
Lesson Learned
The takeaway message from this outing was clear. If at first, you don’t succeed, try, try again. It was apparent when we elected to start from a different trailhead that we needed to be flexible and open to discovery. By staying open to possibility, I reminded myself that mistakes are opportunities, something that people with a growth mindset embrace. Maybe I could be developing a growth mindset after all.
Fortunately, we were able to link trails to reach our intended destination (Debbie’s View) with solitude, exploration, and birdsong along the way. It might not have been what we originally set out to do, but I’m happy I took the wrong turn.
Radio towers at the top of Squak’s Central Peak.
Change Meets Year Three
Such a coddiwomple is a fitting metaphor to kick off the third year of this blog. When I started blogging on July 31, 2021, during the middle of a pandemic, I wasn’t sure where I was headed or if this “blog thing” would even work out.
Year One Recap
In starting my blog, I knew only that I wanted something meaningful, memorable, and good to come out of the dregs of COVID. Those first six months were a time of trial and error until I developed my voice, message, and style.
The second six months between February and August 2022 were my “heal from a broken right wrist” months. Change became more difficult but mandatory as I battled to rehab my right arm while maintaining a household and handling a busy season of online clients. But I kept going despite facing three major health challenges.
My daughter and I are visiting as many alpine lakes as we can this summer. Mirror Lake via the PCT was ramble 49 on July 13, 2023.
Year Two Recap
From August 2022 to January 2023, I confronted an empty nest for the first time. Our daughter attends a local university and likes coming home most weekends. So empty nest became a “partly empty nest” as we adjusted to five days without her, and two days with her.
To help me cope, I developed the Active Ajax Adventures challenge (52 nonrepeated greenspace rambles) which we successfully completed in July 2023. Now that she’s home for the summer, I find myself naturally, rapidly, and comfortably evolving and growing. But what will happen when she returns to college?
The author enjoys a dip in Snow Lake at Exit 52 on July 19, 2023, during Ramble 51.
Year Three Projections
My grandiose plans for year three included diving deep into the “ABCs of Change.” But in sharing my ideas with my husband and writing partners, it became evident that I would be restricting myself — to the point of getting stuck before I ever started. Have you ever made so many rules or placed so many limits on yourself that you come to a complete standstill? Yup.
So instead, this year I will examine the mental aspects of change. To quote one of my wise writing partners, “To write about whatever moves or inspires me.” That might mean becoming more vulnerable, which terrifies me. I see far more growth potential there than in writing what I’ve come to see as my “safe” trip reports.
Look for the beauty in everything, including mistakes. Mistakes are our greatest teachers and point out unique learning opportunities.
Join me in year three on a continued journey through change, to move forward and get unstuck.
For this week’s Active Ajax Adventure, my intentions were to find a longer, shaded hike that would provide uninterrupted solitude, avoid road construction, and beat the holiday crowds and summer heat. This was ramble 46 (and hike 12) on the year but more importantly, potential material for blog one hundred. We visited West Tiger 3 from Poo Poo Point, making a giant loop covering ten miles and about 3000′ elevation gain.
Cross to the “obvious trailhead”, in this case, marked with a miniature parasail and flag.
The Solitude of an Early Start
I’d heard that people love to watch parasailers take off from Poo Poo Point, so we needed an early start. I’d never been on this trail before so I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. How early was “early”? Would the trailhead be as obvious as the description made it out to be? Would it be as crowded as “the highway” from Exit 20?
Ajax and I pulled into the parking lot at 6:15, delighted to find only eight other cars. Score! As we started up the well-maintained rock trail I felt like I was climbing Mother Nature’s Stairmaster. We spotted a trail runner on the way down, a woman walking her dog, and a pair of trail runners who passed us going up, but for the most part, we had the trail to ourselves.
The first part of Poo Poo Trail is rock, rock, and more rock through beautiful dense woods. Once you complete the switchbacks the traffic noise fades away.
We reached a magnificent view of Mt. Rainier in less than an hour. We paused for some photos and I asked another hiker if he knew which path would take us to West Tiger 3. I’d seen a gravel service road on the map that looked promising, but he insisted I continue to Poo Poo Point.
Rainier on July 3 from just below Poo Poo Point about 1/4 mile.
“Once you reach it, take the trail behind the restroom.” I thanked him for the information.
“It’s very far,” he added, looking at me as though wondering whether I’d started from the wrong trailhead.
“I know,” I assured him. “That’s what I’m looking for.”
Less than ten minutes later, we reached the vacant Poo Poo Point with a view of Lake Sammamish and all points west. Squak. Cougar Mountain. Seattle. The Olympics.
Ajax investigates the launching area where we’d later see parasailers take off. But when we arrived around 7:15 there was only one person with a pair of binoculars.
Beyond Poo Poo Point to One-View
Once we’d taken photos from Poo Poo Point, we continued toward the restroom and found a trail leading into the dense woods beyond it. I am well-acquainted with West Tiger 3, but exclusively from the north. How hard would it be to find One-View Trail?
It turns out that the signage everywhere on Tiger is excellent. We soon found ourselves on One-View, and I was looking forward to the view. Except it must be named for the only view it has: green, green, and more green. Enormous tree stumps. And several precious orange tiger lilies.
At the junction of One-View and Tiger Mountain Trail, we headed toward Tiger 2 and the logging zone. Now I knew exactly where we were, even though I’d never been on this part of the trail before.
Even the stumps have eyes. A selfie on One-View Trail.
Tiger Mountain Trail: TMT
The more I explore Tiger Mountain, the more interest I have in doing the entire 15-mile long TMT. Apparently, portions of the trail will be intermittently closed through the fall of 2024, but we didn’t encounter any closures. We did, however, discover parts of the trail that are overgrown, eroded, or muddy, so perhaps there are plans to fix those problems.
An eroded portion of the trail where a giant tree root system has collapsed.
Plenty of short bridges traverse steep ravines and the worst of the mud. I sensed that both the TMT and Railroad Grade, at least between Poo Poo and West Tiger 3, don’t experience heavy foot traffic. We had the trail to ourselves, highly unusual for a beautiful summer holiday weekend. Win!
Once we reached a thinner part of the forest, I knew we must be approaching the logged portion of the mountain. In just two years, West Tiger 3’s barren, slashed, and ugly summit has become transformed into a lush alpine meadow with beautiful lupines, daisies, and foxgloves. And the views! Oh my. We shared the summit with one man when we arrived around 9 a.m.
Ajax takes time to smell the foxgloves.
Foxgloves, an erratic boulder, and chopped tree stumps.
Section to Railroad Grade
Once we left the summit of West Tiger 3, I searched for a stick to help me down the steep “unmaintained” trail known as Section Line. It is even steeper than Cable Line, and in the dry conditions we’ve had, it’s like walking on marbles. I’ve slipped enough in the past five years to last a lifetime; I wasn’t taking any chances.
Fortunately, with all the recent logging, there are plenty of sticks to choose from. Mother Nature provided a nice walking stick and I left it at the sign marking Section Line and Railroad Grade. May someone else benefit from it as well.
We ventured onto another new-to-us trail looking for the junction with One-View and our return to Poo Poo Point.
I believe this plant is called Goats’ Beard, but don’t quote me on that.
Return To Poo Poo Point
We returned to Poo Poo Point around 10:15 where plenty of spectators had gathered to watch parasailers take flight. Had the car in the parking lot hauled up all of the chutes? Or do the parasailers carry them up themselves?
Watching parasailers take off from Poo Poo Point.
As I watched more and more people hiking up from the Poo Poo Point trailhead, I realized how dramatic the contrast was between the solitude we’d experienced during the first four hours of our hike and the holiday crowd watching at the Point. I realized that on a sunny Monday morning, the day before Independence Day, Poo Poo is probably just as crowded as Rattlesnake Ledge. Fortunately, we had less than an hour to return to the car.
We took one more pause at the overlook for a shot of my favorite pup and my favorite mountain.
We’ve reached the end of blog one hundred. I am thrilled you’re continuing on this journey with me. I will be taking most of July to figure out the direction to take for year three. I’ll return in August with exciting new material.
Making your way through obstacles, struggles, and change is tough work. Especially when your obstacles blindside you. Ajax, my daughter, and I explored the Whittaker Wilderness and environs on Cougar Mountain. And the best tip I can supply from that trip is to expect the unexpected.
Shy Bear Pass and Doughty Falls will always remind me of hiking over the boardwalk with two of my favorite companions, my daughter and my dog Ajax. We all faced unexpected obstacles on this hike.
Previous Blog Posts
Such an idea is not new to this blog. I wrote about setting intentions on Mt. Washington in May. What if we set an intention to handle unexpected events with ease, grace, and humor? Last fall I reflected on the beauty of hiking Granite Mountain in the shoulder season, not expecting the gorgeous fall foliage. The unexpected can be positive…and negative.
Almost two years ago I discussed how to turn disappointment into gratitude at Blanca Lake when we arrived in fog, only to have it lift shortly before we left. One of the reasons I continue to venture to the mountains is I recognize Mother Nature has a lot to teach me. So what would Cougar Mountain reveal?
Narrow boardwalks snake through Shy Bear Marsh on a circuit from Whitaker Peak to Doughty Falls. We didn’t encounter anyone coming in the opposite direction, or crossing could resemble a game of Twister.
Expect the Unexpected #1: Early Fatigue
Last Wednesday, the three of us headed for Exit 15 and the Whittaker Wilderness to do a 7.5-mile loop up Whittaker Peak to Shy Bear Pass to Doughty Falls. We headed up the trail at 8:25 a.m. I’d put a lot of thought into this choice. My desires were to prevent any of us from getting overheated, avoid sitting in traffic during road construction or rush hour, and enjoy a new trail without a lot of crowds. While we accomplished all three, we each faced our own obstacles.
The first unexpected obstacle was one my daughter faced. I could tell within ten minutes that she was having an off day. We stopped after ten minutes for a rest. Ten minutes later, while I was barely feeling warmed up, she dragged herself to a boulder and sat, dejected. The “go forever” solo hiker voice inside me reared its ugly head but I successfully squelched it. After all, we were doing something together as a mom and daughter. It was a gorgeous day and we had until early afternoon.
The mossy, fern-filled Cougar wilderness right before our first clothing break. Ajax wanted to dash ahead but we kept him on his leash.
Taking Weight
After thirty minutes, and our third break, I resorted to diversion tactics including cracking jokes. Then I tried becoming a sleuth. Had she eaten breakfast? Were her feet feeling okay? It turns out she’d really been looking forward to having another person join us. But both people we’d invited had other plans. So part of the problem was disappointment. And perhaps the fact that there was no lake on this hike had her unmotivated.
On the fly, I told her we wouldn’t go all the way up to the Whittaker Peak summit, we’d just do the flatter loop. Even that news didn’t motivate her. When I finally asked if she wanted to go back to the car, she said yes, but she didn’t want to feel like a loser.
On the ascent, I simply strapped her pack on my front like a Baby Bjorn front carrier. On the way down I got smart and unloaded her stuff into mine and folded up her pack. That way I could see my feet and reduce the risk of a fall.
“We all have off days. Just because someone turns around doesn’t make them a loser,” I told her. But she gets her stubbornness from her independent parents. She refused to budge. I offered to carry her pack to see if that helped. We finally got moving again.
Doughty Falls
Fortunately, we raised a resilient teen. Once we’d completed most of the gain her oomph and enthusiasm returned. She just doesn’t like steep uphills; I get that. We meandered past Shy Bear Pass and over boardwalks at Shy Bear Marsh, finally reaching Doughty Falls around 10:45 a.m.
“More like Doughty Trickle,” I quipped. She preferred “Doughty Leak.” Who am I to argue? This time of year ferns drape the rocks but nothing more indicates a waterfall except lush green and a drop-off. Still, it was our farthest destination, so we stopped for a snack.
The author takes a selfie at “Doughty Leak.” I preferred “Doughty Trickle” myself…
Expect the Unexpected 2: Ajax’s Mallady
About half a mile later, Ajax acted as though he’d gotten stung, stabbed, or bitten. He pawed at his face and then immediately rolled around in the dirt. Was he trying to deaden the pain or get rid of something in his face? When he stood up, it looked like he’d done something to his left front paw. He took a few steps and then plopped down and refused to go.
My daughter checked out his paw to see if he had anything embedded in it. Would we have to carry him? I was already carrying both our packs and wasn’t sure I could carry the dog, too, even using his suitcase harness. The only option we had left was to let him rest and see if he could walk out on his own.
Our pooch, resting on his non-favorite side. Flashbacks to my other dog, Emily, and her death in 2012 had me near tears. I would NOT let it happen. Ajax is only eight. But if we expect the unexpected, we know that someday life for loved ones will happen. It doesn’t make it any easier.
Tricks to Try
Something similar with Ajax had happened twice before: once on a hike of Mailbox Peak, when he started limping for no apparent reason, and the other during a winter hike on Big Tree Ridge. Both times he recovered with rest. Little Man can’t talk, but he is a good communicator. I knelt to give him a paw massage, and after we let him rest for fifteen minutes, my daughter commented that he looked dead.
I had one last trick up my sleeve. Cheese. His favorite treat. I tore off tiny bites and handed them to him. That perked him right up. He didn’t stand, but he did look interested. At that moment I knew, somehow, he was going to be okay. After five bites and some water, I repacked my bag and he stood up. He took a few tentative steps with a faint limp. But after that, he seemed fine. Crisis averted.
My daughter and I discussed the challenges of having four legs and losing use of one, or having two and losing use of one. Many three-legged dogs adapt just fine; humans can get a prosthetic. But which would be easier?
Expect the Unexpected #3: Emotional Tidal Wave
My own obstacle followed shortly thereafter. We rounded the corner where the paths leading to Whittaker Peak and Gombu Wilderness Cliffs diverge. A woman was supervising a large number of children clambering around a mossy boulder. They had a large off-leash and highly energetic Swissy with them who wanted to play with Ajax.
I politely told the child closest to the dog that my dog just injured his paw and would she please call off her dog. The woman uttered something like, “Thank you for asking politely, calmly, and respectfully.” I nodded as we walked by. I remember thinking, “She must be modeling kind behavior for her kids.” As Ajax and my daughter disappeared ahead of me, something snapped.
Ajax poses by an enormous moss-covered log in the Whitaker Wilderness in the southeast corner of Cougar Mountain.
Triggers
Seeing my best canine friend lying on the dirt, perhaps injured – could I have prevented it? – and having my daughter use the word “dead” triggered a wave of anticipatory grief. Eleven years ago we lost our first dog to lung cancer. Hearing the woman use the word “calm” for me, when I felt anything but, did something more. Add to that my daughter calling the trail “boring” and my fears that she was no longer enjoying hiking with me and I lost it.
A tidal wave of emotions rushed through me. Shame. Guilt. Grief. Sadness. Frustration. Longing. The slightest thing can unleash a torrent out of nowhere. Traumatic experiences like euthanizing a beloved pet can do that. I know if and when I lose Ajax it will be the worst pain I can possibly imagine. Nothing can prepare us for that.
But not yet. Thank the powers that be, not yet.
My eager Little Man, always ready for anything. He’s the best hiking partner anyone could ever ask for.
Fortunately, my daughter was ahead of me. I knew I needed to let the tears out and then get my act together. I took several deep box breaths to help move past the hurt. But not before she noticed me rubbing my head.
“Are you okay?” she asked. I nodded.
“Did you get stung?”
“Only in the proverbial sense.” I assured her I was fine, just dealing with emotional demons. And the rest of the hike unfolded uneventfully.
Two intricate and fascinating snails on the Cougar trails.
I know my worries are first-world problems. They still feel stressful.
Takeaways
Perhaps the biggest takeaways from this experience of unexpected events are twofold: that we have the knowledge we need deep inside us. Our job is to listen, to tap into it, and to trust it. And Mother Nature teaches us what we need to know when She knows we can handle it.
My job is to amass as many tools as I can so I don’t get blindsided by grief the next time it comes. I know it’s coming. And I am preparing. But I won’t let that detract from today’s happiness. Over the past two years, I have shared a number of techniques and tips around embracing change and getting unstuck. Knowing what to do, however, doesn’t necessarily make it any easier.
Two posts ago I asked readers to share their “close calls.” This week please share any surprising obstacles that caught you off guard for which you felt under-prepared. What resources do you draw on to get through tough situations? How do you remain calm when you feel the world is collapsing around you?
On a recent hike to Talapus and Olallie Lakes, I practiced “channeling my inner wood duck” (i.e. going with the flow). Ajax, my daughter, and a friend joined me on a sunny midweek adventure. To enjoy the trip yourself, plan on allowing at least 30-45 minutes to explore the shoreline at each lake. Join us on our journey into the woods.
Log jam at Talapus Lake under perfect conditions.
At the Trailhead
We reached the trailhead at Exit 45 a little before 9. I’d suggested we leave early since we’re in peak hiking season and the Talapus Lake parking lot is small. Eleven cars were already parked when we arrived, leaving plenty of spaces. Hurray for midweek hikes!
The four of us headed up the Talapus Lake trail under sunny, clear conditions with a light breeze. More like what our guest, Zach, was used to in Arizona, rather than the rain we experienced four days earlier at Wallace Falls. This time he borrowed a water bottle and refilled it twice before starting the hike. There’s always something unexpected with teenagers!
Red marks and blue tape on select trees denote the extent of the logging area.
Trail to Talapus and Olallie Lakes
The area near the parking lot has recently been logged up to a sign indicating the boundary of the Alpine Lakes Wilderness. WTA trail maintenance crews have worked extensively on this wide, moderate trail over the past decade, most recently in 2021. Since I have only accessed Talapus and Olallie via the Pratt Lake trail (at exit 47), I was excited to explore a new trailhead. We were not disappointed.
The din of I-90 traffic faded as we gradually climbed into a denser forest. My daughter and Zach hiked ahead with Ajax while I hung back to identify birdsong (17 species including a red-breasted sapsucker, a type of woodpecker) and shoot photographs (113) of treasures in the peaceful woods.
Gentle switchbacks lead to Talapus and Olallie Lakes.
A close-up of what I loosely call shelf fungus with dew drops.
Waterfall Detour
One of the advantages of hiking in a small, private group rather than a larger guided group is the freedom and independence to explore. When we came across a river cascade beyond an enormous fallen tree, we meandered off-trail in search of cool vantage points and photo opportunities.
My heart nearly stopped when Zach contemplated crossing a mossy log that had fallen across a stream. When he glanced over at me shaking my head, he changed his mind and found another way. They may both be adults, but teen brains are still developing. Thoughts of emergency first aid and “what if” raced through my mind until we were safely back on the official trail. If there is a way to squelch the mothering instinct, I haven’t found it.
At Talapus Lake we stopped for a short water break and agreed to continue to Olallie Lake first. Then we could backtrack and spend more time anywhere that caught our interest.
I had one momentary fright when I slipped on a wet log. In a split second, I landed on my left forearm, flashing back to my fall in the Fiery Furnace 18 months ago. This time, I practically bounced off the pine needles and hopped back onto my feet, and dusted off the dirt, but not before they both noticed. My daughter raced back to check on me. I assured them both that I was totally fine. But I silently asked myself, is it age? Lack of attention? Terrain challenge? Or could there be a deep core muscle that is no longer engaging properly?
Olallie Lake Wading
After brushing off from my fall, we continued along the west side of Olallie Lake, scoping out campsites for a future backpacking trip. At a nice sunny vacant spot, we stopped to have lunch and clean away the rest of the dirt. Beautiful tiny butterflies flitted around our packs. They were so light I couldn’t even feel the one that perched on my hand.
Olallie Lake Basin Area Map.
A frog near Olallie Lake’s shore, enjoying the day.
When I invited them to go in the water, Ajax stayed on shore. He can swim but only if someone carries him in and lets go. We decided he should stay dry.
The view south from one of the northern campsites. We backtracked to get closer to the water.
Our lunch spot.
The water is, as you’d expect, cold. But also delightfully refreshing. When I spotted a frog, my daughter grabbed her camera to take some photos. An item that would have been useful: a towel. I never bring one for day hikes, but for an overnight near a lake, it would come in handy. Since we still had a second lake to explore, we dried off our feet and headed back toward the log jam at Talapus Lake roughly 1.5 miles away.
Talapus Lake Log Jam
Olallie has a decent wading area with a sandy bottom. Talapus Lake has floating logs. Brooke and Zach both wanted to test their balancing skills. When they asked how much time we had (they wanted to take their shoes off there, as well) I said we could stay longer if they’d entertain me in traffic on the way home. While they hurled sticks into the lake, I found a spot next to Ajax to write in my journal.
Exploring the log jam at the southern end of Talapus Lake.
The choice to linger meant adding time in the car on the drive home. The closer we got to rush hour, the more time I guessed we’d spend stuck in road construction between exits 24 and 18 westbound on Interstate 90. But because we expected it, we entertained ourselves on the drive by playing The Alphabet Game and looking for interesting license plates and bumper stickers.
The Alpine Lakes wilderness is full of fascinating trees. This “seat” was perfect for Brooke and Ajax.
Ajax spotted several bold chipmunks. He didn’t give chase but the drool showed he wanted to.
Choosing Between Talapus and Olallie Lakes
The best things about these two lakes are they’re close enough to visit both on the same hike. If you park at the Pratt Lake trailhead, you’ll reach Olallie first. Both are worth seeing. As to which is better, I didn’t raise that question. Frogs or logs? Which do you prefer?
Tree planter near the trailhead. Young kids will enjoy the diversity of tree shapes on this trail.
On Father’s Day, my husband, our daughter, a friend from Arizona, and Ajax joined me for a hike to Wallace Falls. Mother Nature supplied plenty of rain, mist, and sun breaks along with plenty of puddles. The result? One very muddy dog. Fortunately, the hail waited until the long stop-and-go drive home. As a fair-weather hiker, I’ve recently come to enjoy rain because it provides cooler weather, a lower risk of sunburn, great photo opportunities (clouds make for interesting light), and fewer people. All contributed to a unique experience.
Wallace Falls is spectacular this time of year. It reminded me of being in a rainforest. Mist rebounds from the cascade, filling the valley. Or is that rain?
Uh-oh!
The last time Ajax and I visited this park was on a hike to Wallace Lake two years ago (see my blog post from August 2021). This year, a sign outside the parking lot declared it to be full, but we soon realized that was probably the case for a crowded and sunnier afternoon the day before. We quickly found a suitable parking spot in the half-full lot and traded sneakers for boots.
Missing Boots
Except somehow, my daughter’s boots never made it into my husband’s car. I had a second, older pair in my car, but she doesn’t wear my size. Would we have to turn right around and go home without taking a step?
Fortunately, my daughter and husband wear the same size. He offered to hike in his sneakers so she could wear his boots. The lightweight slip-ons she wore on the drive never would have held up to a mile of mud, much less six. Crisis averted, we locked the car and headed up the trail at 9 a.m.
Group photo of me, Zach, Ajax, and Brooke at the start of the Woody Trail, our route to Wallace Falls.
No Raincoat
Our guest, Zach, and his parents were my hiking partners for the wonderful learning experience on Mt. Wrightson in Arizona. I knew he would be fine on whatever hike we chose. But he’s used to Arizona sun and heat. They don’t have many waterfalls or lakes. The thought of bringing a raincoat never crossed his mind.
No boots for one; no raincoat for another. In typical motherly fashion, I ruminated about how my daughter was doing up at the front of our group in her borrowed footwear. Did our guest have enough snacks and warm clothing? Was my husband actually enjoying his Father’s Day in the rain, or merely tolerating it? Surely we’d faced the worst.
Baby Grouse Chicks
I was wrong.
To avoid being pulled into muddy puddles, I let Ajax off-leash. He’s usually very good with voice commands. Unless he spots a mother grouse with baby chicks.
Majestic Ajax in his muddy harness. This was taken off the beaten trail, where we could access Wallace River before it plunges over the falls.
Strike three. Fortunately, I believe the baby grouse will survive. But we revoked Ajax’s off-leash privileges for the rest of the day.
Let Nature Be Your Teacher
As we ducked into the forest, we traded the annoying buzz of power lines for the refreshing sounds of cascading water. Ajax and I paused to capture a photo of the William Wordsworth quote that greets guests to the solace and beauty of the park.
Ajax seems to enjoy rain. Here he stands in a puddle at the base of the sign. He got two baths after the hike, a cold one at the trailhead and a warm one at home.
On the rainy hike, my husband and Zach traded stories and questions until we paused at the picnic shelter for our first snack break: kibble for Ajax, homemade cookies for the kids, and ground beef for my husband. I chose to visit the vantage point for the lower falls. The volume of water flowing this time of year is truly mind-boggling.
Zach later admitted that his experience at Wallace Falls was “otherworldly.” Hiking in mud and rain must have felt as different for him as hiking in the arid Arizona April heat had been for me. Nature is an awesome teacher, if we’ll only pay attention to her lessons.
The author at Lower Falls.
Brooke and Zach shoot photos of Lower Falls.
Enjoy Rain Mixed with Sun
People often joke about Pacific Northwest weather: if you don’t like it, wait a few minutes. We felt the air around us warm as we hiked higher and tried to figure out why that was. My guess is the clouds were growing thinner, which meant more of the sun’s strength could reach Earth. We paused at each vantage point for photos, continuing all the way to the bridge that crosses Wallace River where we spent time gazing at the rushing torrent beneath us and exploring off-trail down to the river.
On our return to the Upper Falls after exploring the bridge at the top, we got rewarded briefly by a visit from the sun.
The bridge at the very top of Wallace River. Note the very wet wood.
Now, we can look back at our experience and laugh about those things we forgot and about our soggy doggy. (I offered to sit next to Ajax so our guest could sit in the front.) Trips are made far more memorable whenever obstacles are thrown in our path.
We’ve also rediscovered that the westbound single-lane highway east of Everett is a headache to travel on weekends. It was true three years ago. Maybe even more so now.
However, we salvaged the drive home with a Word Chain game in which we chose a category (geography) and round-robin fashion, had a person name a geographic feature and the next person come up with something starting with the letter the previous person ended with. And did I mention hail?
Enjoy rain but hope for the sun. It made a brief entrance shortly before noon.
Enjoy Rain: Takeaways
The Mountaineers organization recommends that every hiker carry the Ten Essentials (or the updated “ten essential systems“) on the trail. These include extra food and water, a First Aid kit, extra clothing, and a map and compass for navigation.
It’s one thing to think you have it and another to have it. One strategy to use to avoid our mistake is to check with all party members ahead of time to be sure they actually brought what they need so that you avoid a painful surprise at the trailhead.
And we’re going to keep hiking in the rain in the summer. With the right gear, it provides a pleasant experience and interesting lighting. What “close calls” have you had in the mountains and what creative ways did you handle it? Please share in the comments so we can all benefit and learn.
Now that my daughter and I have joined forces to hike together this summer, I have adjusted our process. How many rests do we need? How long should each rest be so it restores us without leaving either of us cold? What is the best way to keep younger hikers interested and occupied? For that matter, when older hikers grow tired, can we coax more mileage from them? How much mileage and gain is too much? Since last Thursday’s visit to Annette Lake, I compiled a list of tips to coach and coax new hikers forward.
One way to coax new hikers is to stop to take frequent photo breaks. These beautiful falls are easily accessible, only .2 miles from the Annette Lake parking lot.
Coax New Hikers by Giving Them a Choice
Regardless of age, hikers will likely have more success on their outings if they are involved in choosing (and getting excited about) a destination. Before each hike, I ask my daughter what she’s interested in seeing. We use the WTA hikes finder to locate suitable hikes that include lakes.
From her baseline hike to Teneriffe Falls, we also have a better understanding of what elevation gain and mileage will be comfortable for her. We compiled a list of appropriate hikes from which she can choose based on the weather and how she feels on any given day.
Stunning trillium kissed by water droplets.
Hikes Under 8 Miles and Less Than 2000′ Elevation Gain
Here’s our shortlist (in alphabetical order) of Pacific Northwest hikes east of Seattle that we plan to visit this summer. All are between 5 and 8 miles and involve 1000′ to 2000′ elevation gain.
Annette Lake 7.5 miles 1800′ elevation gain (Blog 96)
Grand Ridge Park 7 miles, 1100′ elevation gain near Exit 20 off I-90
Lake 22 5.4 miles, 1350′ elevation gain on the Mountain Loop Highway
Wallace Falls 5.6 miles, 1300′ elevation gain (our Father’s Day trip, Blog 97) on US 2
Trail maintenance crews did a lot of work on the Annette Lake trail in 2022. They installed 288 steps (by my count) including a series of “crib ladders” such as these to improve footing.
Take Frequent Breaks
Another way to coax newer hikers forward is to plan frequent breaks. From our first hike together (as well as from decades of experience) I know that taking a short clothing and water break about 15-20 minutes into the hike allows an assessment of how everyone feels. With young kids that may be more like every 10 minutes.
Our modified plan is to check in with each other every 20-30 minutes. Sometimes when I’m alone with Ajax, I’ll go a whole hour before taking a water break.
My UW Husky student and I pose for a selfie in front of the lower falls.
No Regrets
After what felt like the umpteenth switchback, I could tell my daughter was getting tired. It was chilly and damp, and she had less oomph than she did on our previous hike to Teneriffe Falls. I used the phrase, “Just a little farther!” one too many times, and she ground to a halt. I figured that 52 minutes was close enough to an hour to merit a longer rest.
At that point, my daughter asked if I regretted inviting her to join me. I was shocked. “Absolutely not!” I replied. Her question reminded me that there’s more to communication than words. Could I be sending out vibes she’d misinterpreted? I joined her on the log. While I may long for the carefree pace I set whenever I go alone, I can do that anytime. But hiking with her is a rare gift that I wouldn’t trade for anything.
Vanilla Leaf.
Demonstrate Proper Pacing
A mistake new hikers sometimes make is starting from the cars too hard or too fast, resulting in early fatigue. Just like any warmup to a workout, try suggesting easing into the hike for the first half mile. This allows the muscles, tendons, ligaments, and joints plenty of warm-up time before sustained exertion. Then, after removing a layer of clothing, you can settle into your “go forever” pace.
My daughter has demonstrated that she does not like to be the last member in a hike. If she can’t be part of a “kid sandwich” (i.e. adult – child – adult) then she would rather be out front. My goal in upcoming hikes will be to try to teach her suitable pacing (e.g. no sprint/stop allowed) without requiring that she walk behind me. Maybe we can find hikes with wide trails.
On a rainy midweek morning with low traffic, we feel confident letting Ajax off-leash and relying on voice command. Maybe in this case she still feels a sense of a “kid sandwich” with Ajax in the lead and me taking up the rear.
Coax New Hikers by Providing Suitable Rewards
As we learned two summers ago on a trip to Mt. Catherine, when the huckleberries and blueberries were ripe and abundant, having some sort of reward can go a long way toward motivating a newer hiker. The promise of reaching snow in June was a big lure.
Suitcase doggie! My daughter and Ajax pose on a snow patch that persists into early summer. One way to coax new hikers is to promise something they’ll enjoy. Snow, lakes, and an uncommon treat work for my daughter.
When our daughter was young, it was the promise of ice cream afterward. On this trip, I brought out crisp snap pea chips. We spent half an hour at the lake before we both got a little cold.
As soon as the activity itself becomes a reward, you know you’ve got a hiker for life. The fact that we have our next two outings lined up means that all those outings years ago with the Mountaineers Family Activities group have created strong roots. I couldn’t be happier. If you have tips for coaching or coaxing the newer hiker, please share them in the comments so we can all learn from each other.
A reader recently asked for tips on dealing with loss and disappointment. The permits for a trip she had been planning for six months got canceled, making it difficult to maintain enthusiasm for her trip. Loss comes in all shapes and sizes. It includes injury, illness, change in plans, loss of livelihood, loss of youthfulness, and even death. After nearly two years of exploring change, the best suggestion I can make is to look for good to come out of the loss.
Look for good. Instead of complaining about the rain, we celebrated the fact that the rain meant fewer people on a weekend hike and beautiful photographs like this one.
Weekend Hike to Teneriffe Falls
Last Saturday my daughter, Ajax, and I headed to Teneriffe Falls (6 miles, 1600′ gain) at Exit 32 on I-90. The drive has never passed so quickly. I usually listen to an e-book. Instead, we chatted easily about her coursework, the upcoming hike, her friends, and my clients.
When we started hiking around 8:30, the parking lot was about a third full. A trail maintenance crew was preparing for a day of work. Several Portapotties stood near locked latrines. And a large flat rock held numerous poop bags, indicating recent high canine traffic. Expect lots of people. It’s a Saturday in June.
Ajax and my daughter begin the steep switchbacks toward the Falls.
I’ve been so conditioned to go at dawn on weekdays to less frequented trails, that I have forgotten what it’s like to hike with hordes of people. (side note: If you seek solitude, avoid Rattlesnake Ledge on a summer weekend.) When my daughter pointed out bleeding hearts, banana slugs, and nurse logs, my heart swelled with pride. She still remembers much of what we taught her during her childhood hikes.
Loss or Gain?
Over the past year, I have explored what it’s like to move forward with an “empty nest.” Sort of. My daughter attends a local university and often comes home for a few days. We’ve adjusted to weekdays without her, and weekends with her. Now that she is home for the summer, we’re adjusting again. The biggest change: she wants to join me hiking.
How could this ever be perceived as a loss? You can view any change as having loss and gain. For instance, hiking with another person means a loss of freedom to go at my own pace. To leave the house when I want. Hiking on the weekends also brings a loss of solitude on the trail and a loss of time due to higher traffic in the city.
We dubbed this the “mystical corridor” with its pine needles, fog, and empty space. The rain kept the weekend crowds to a minimum except at the Falls where a large group of rowdy students celebrated their recent graduation.
But it also brings plenty of good. Wonderful conversations with another person. New perspectives. Varied pace. Exploration and adventure of a different kind. Moments of pride when you realize your daughter has absorbed all sorts of lessons from childhood. It depends entirely on how you frame it.
Ask yourself: are you a “glass half full” or “glass half empty” person? What if you tried to look at your loss through a lens of self-compassion and kindness, or tried to view your experience as a new learning opportunity?
Look for Good: Problem as Learning Opportunity
When my daughter insisted on a third break on the ascent, she needed to check her feet. She had hot spots on her heels that threatened to form blisters. I reminded myself of my biggest intention. Make sure she has fun so she agrees to hike again. I channeled the patience my friends showed me on Mt. Wrightson when I experienced heat exhaustion.
The joy on my daughter’s face, when we reached the Falls, was worth the three rest stops it took to get there. I thought back to all the hikes we did with her as a youngster. Now that she’s an adult, she’s come full circle. I couldn’t be happier.
I asked myself, What’s good about this problem?
Learning how to lace boots properly and adjust for uphill or downhill
Layering socks correctly to prevent wear on the skin
Learning to doctor hot spots before they become blisters
Making sure to carry Moleskin, duct tape, or Bandaids in a First Aid kit.
Experience is one of the best teachers. I doubt she’ll ever hike again without bringing blister protection.
Near the bottom of the hike, I was relieved to see my daughter was still able to smile. We’re off to another hike in the morning. She had a good enough experience (and the blisters were only a minor irritant) that she’s willing to go again.
Look for Good When Losses Are Ubiquitous
Earlier this week it felt like every email I opened pointed to some kind of loss. Lost mobility that led to canceling a trip. Illness meant cutting a trip short. A fall that led to a trip to the ER. A friend reporting death of a friend. Loss of enjoyment due to pain. Loss of awareness while driving. And the death of a former client’s tentmate on Everest. Pain and loss everywhere.
Where’s the good? Two jumped out at me:
I have finally learned to hold suffering at a distance and not take other people’s pain on myself. I can remain compassionate and empathetic but not drown in the pain. Win!
Maybe I could write a blog about it that might help others find a path through loss.
The author, her daughter, and Ajax enjoy an hour at Teneriffe Falls before hiking down. If you go on a summer weekend, choose a rainy day to cut down on crowds. That will also make the falls more spectacular.
Additional Posts on Loss
I’ve written about loss in other blog posts. This list is not exhaustive, but it might point to some interesting reading if you’re relatively new to the blog.
Surviving a broken wrist in the Fiery Furnace at Arches National Park
Accomplishing your goal, and handling anticipointment (the disappointment of losing anticipation of a goal you’ve held for a long time)
A hike with two of my favorite living creatures on this planet. WIN!
Parting Thoughts
My parting thoughts are about Kelly Clarkson’s blockbuster song, “Stronger.” To paraphrase, what doesn’t kill us builds our RESILIENCE. A hero’s journey is filled with obstacles. We can bury our heads in the sand, smother our pain with food or alcohol, or we can face the pain and go right through it. If we look for what good might come out of it — connecting with others also experiencing the loss, having a different kind of adventure, getting more clarity on our goals and values — we can handle the pain more easily.
If you have recently experienced some sort of loss, please share it so we can all learn from and help each other. You are not alone. And if you have a topic you’d like to explore, please suggest it. A shout out to E. for asking this question, and to my Monday Morning writing partners for a wonderful, lively discussion of the Murky Middle blog post. I learn so much from all of my readers and commenters! Thank you!
During the past four rambles with Ajax, I reflected on our progress on our project. Is it still meeting its purpose? Am I experiencing “shiny object syndrome” (i.e. wanting to jump to something else midstream) or just the murky middle that sometimes comes with long-term projects? What are some ways to follow through on intentions?
Ajax explores a driftwood structure at Richmond Beach Saltwater Park.
Pinehurst Pocket Park
Doubt started creeping up on me during the Memorial Day weekend. My daughter was home for three days so I had some free time. I refused to battle holiday crowds in the mountains, so Ajax and I did a local Ramble instead.
We included a stop at Pinehurst Pocket Park, a tiny park covering less than half a city block. But despite visiting six little free libraries, something was missing. I long for solitude, for views, for the freedom to let Ajax roam off-leash. I miss the mountains. What would finishing 52 unique rambles do for me that hiking wouldn’t? Was I ready to change my intentions? Or maybe I was just having an off day. Perhaps my attitude would change when I tried a few more.
A great way for a local homeowner to showcase a sense of humor. Dogs can’t read but they sure can smell!
View Ridge Playfield
A few days later, I returned my daughter to the UW campus for finals week. On the way back, Ajax and I visited the View Ridge Playfield neighborhood. It brought back memories of summer visits to the kiddie pool when my daughter was a toddler.
We visited three little free libraries on this ramble, including one outside the Sand Point Community United Methodist Church, constructed to resemble the church itself. I marveled at all of the modern architecture in the neighborhood. At the same time, I felt crowded and confined, with people rushing from birthday parties to the library to local coffee and bagel shops.
Sand Point Community Church boasts two neighborhood boxes, one for books and one for food. Both resemble the church.
The view from 70th Ave. NE looking east toward the Cascades. A block west, you can see a similar view of the Olympics.
In a word, hectic. A feeling I escape in the mountains and try to avoid during Rambles. But the farther south I explore (i.e. closer to downtown) the more hectic the pace feels. The yearning for the peaceful solace and rhythm of the mountains grows stronger with each urban ramble, now that more people are getting outside in nice weather. Or perhaps because I was able to see the mountains without being in them.
Haller Lake in the Murky Middle
The following day, our ramble to Haller Lake in north Seattle made me want to give up. Not because of inclement weather.
We strolled clockwise around the small, private lake hoping to find a waterfront path (it doesn’t exist) or at least public access to the lake (there is only one such spot).
Haller Lake from the west. Trying to access this mostly private lake was part of my murky middle. But I can change my approach to find safe, accessible, beautiful, public spaces and continue on my quest. Simple, right?
Behind the North Seattle Church, we caught our first glimpse of the lake. Unfortunately, the only access by non-residents is on the west side. So we continued on our way, eager to spot any lingering waterfowl. So far, all we’d heard among the usual suspects were red-winged blackbirds, common inhabitants of wetlands such as Montlake Fill and Magnuson Park.
No Dogs Allowed
But as we strode toward the lake from the west, my heart dropped. A sign proclaimed No dogs allowed on Seattle beaches. A local collecting trash gave us the ol’ stink-eye.
“C’mon, Ajax, it looks like we’re not welcome here,” I said to my docile pup. He dutifully followed without a single growl or bark. I hate feeling unwelcome anywhere, but especially in green spaces touted as accessible to and for all. Apparently not dogs.
My murky middle nearly caused me to give up after 39 rambles. Decorative signs hang on the fencing leading to the public boat ramp at Haller Lake. For all they do to try to welcome people, it’s the last thing I felt.
“I don’t want to visit any more spaces that make me feel unwanted, unsafe, or uncomfortable,” I thought as we left Haller Lake.
But I had to remind myself, this was different. This was mostly a privateaccess lake. And maybe the lady just had weird eyes. Maybe she wasn’t directing anything toward me. Perhaps the anger I felt was due to a poor, uninformed choice. But anger it was. Not one of the reasons I go on walks with Ajax.
The Desire to Quit Rears Its Ugly Head
So this morning, I told a friend that I was considering stopping my Rambles project. Surprised, she asked why. I mumbled something like, “I miss the mountains. And I miss visiting some of my favorite places where there are no people.” Both are valid reasons.
But they don’t tell the whole true story. I think I was willing to scrap my whole year-long project… in order to avoid shame. Well, eff that. That’s on ME, not anyone else. And now that I know what I was doing, I won’t cave.
Something my friend said reminded me to review my big why: this project was a way to explore mindfulness, learn to be more fully present, and experience joy in tiny moments. Haller Lake may not have been joyful but many of the others have been.
Review Your Intentions
Once she left, I reread what I hoped to get out of this year. June seems to be as good a time as any to reflect on intentions set at the start of the year.
Appreciate beauty
Connect deeply
Move frequently
Create abundantly
Improve lovingly
Challenge gently
Appreciate beauty, large and small alike.
I realized that I’d slipped on my why. And the two that need more work are “appreciate beauty” and “improve lovingly.” I have been trying to strongarm myself into going to places within walking distance of home — that may be aesthetically unappealing or worse, downright unsafe.
But what if I gave myself permission — challenged myself gently — to access green spaces beyond walking distance for my final twelve Rambles? What’s stopping me from driving to new green spaces like I do hikes?
Richmond Beach Saltwater Park
So, with renewed interest in our project (just in time for Ramble 40!), I drove to Richmond Beach Saltwater Park for a walk-and-talk with a writing friend. Connection. Check. I expected great views of the Olympics. Saltwater birds. And with any luck, no crowds.
This morning, the only people enjoying the park were dog walkers (like us) and stair climbers (also like us.) Movement. Check. We headed along the top promenade for an overlook of the park and ended up at a gorgeous Madrone tree – I think, based on the peeling bark. Beauty. Check.
Active Ajax Adventures are a great way to explore the area and get outside my comfort zone. A hiking friend convinced me to keep going and get twelve more Rambles.
My writing friend gave me several big hugs and encouraged me to continue with our quest. Twelve to go.
Takeaways: Surviving the Murky Middle
Whatever goal you are pursuing, at some point you may think, “Do I still want this? Does it matter? How can I stay interested and engaged through the finish line?” I offer some final thoughts about what might help.
A little free library near the InterUrban in Shoreline. It perked me up after the mood sink of Haller Lake and gave me a glimpse of hope that maybe I could refine our project.
New Perspective
Before you completely give up on any intention, give it a day or a week to let yourself think about it. You may be having a tough day. Things might look better with a little distance from your intention.
Review the initial reasons why you embarked on this journey in the first place. Perhaps (like it did for me) something has slipped and a reminder will jump-start you.
Discuss your decision-making process with someone who understands your struggle. They might have a fresh opinion that can help you see it in a different way.
Despite enjoying my rambles with Ajax, my experience with Haller Lake almost made me give up on the project. The simple solution: a reminder that it’s OK to drive to green spaces now that I’ve exhausted everything within walking distance of home! Win!
Tweak Your Intentions
Can you tweak your intention (i.e. nudge the notch) to make it a little more compelling? For me, reminding myself that it’s okay to drive to mid-distance green spaces opens up a ton of areas to explore. Not only will I still save on gas and driving time, but the choices just got a lot more interesting.
Imagine two outcomes: completing and not completing your intention. What will each look and feel like? Will you have any regrets about your decision? What does completing (or not) your intention say about you? What good might come from completing it, even if you feel like you’re struggling? And if it’s no longer right, be comfortable walking away without shame or guilt.
Finally, if you have been working on an intention alone, find a buddy or accountability partner. They help!
If you are struggling to follow through on an intention, don’t give up! Share your dilemma in the comments so we can support each other.
A lovely canopy of moss-covered trees drapes over the path just past Cougar Pass on the way to Lost Beagle Trail. One way we assess progress is to refer to a map and signage to make sure we’re heading the right way.
My intentions shortlist included the following three items:
Reflect on the use of objective and subjective data for assessing client progress
Explore new-to-us segments of Cougar Mountain’s trail system
Test two new water delivery systems I’d purchased for Ajax’s 8th birthday
Assess Progress: Objective vs. Subjective Data
During our hike, I found myself thinking about how Precision Nutrition suggests tracking progress. To help clients reach distant mountain peaks, there are some obvious, objective metrics. Guide services such as Alpine Ascents International want to be sure their climbers can reach base camp carrying a specific pack weight in a certain amount of time. If not, they might jeopardize the team’s chance to reach the summit.
Objective Data
Objective measurements include measurable facts such as:
Distance hiked
Elevation gained or altitude attained
Time traveled
Pack weight carried
Heart rate data (average, max, rate of recovery)
Steps achieved using some biometric device such as an Oura ring, Whoop strap, or Fitbit
A piece of objective data for hikers is mileage traveled. King County does an excellent job with signage. As long as you know roughly what your end destination is, you can easily get there. But a goal like “increased fitness”? Without more specific parameters, you may never know if or when you’ve reached it.
Subjective Data
But these metrics are only part of the picture. For some people participating in unguided trips where they can take their own time, subjective metrics may actually be moreimportant. These might include:
Feeling less winded at the top of stairs or hills
Having energy for the trip back to the car
Wanting to eat at base camp or the summit
Feeling well enough not to need any pain medication or anti-inflammatories during or after the trip
Being able to recover quickly once exercise stops
Feeling like they can continue the very next day without much rest
Have a conversation with a partner on the way up or down
Having an easier time than the previous hike
Subjective data are harder to quantify. They are specific to each person and based more on internal feelings rather than external metrics. Such criteria often have more meaning for the hiker.
Ajax crosses a wooden bridge on the Tibbets Marsh Trail on the way to Cougar Pass. I assess his progress by his energy levels and panting.
Assess Progress Using a Continuum
If something can’t be measured, how exactly do you gauge improvement? The short answer is: scaling, or using relative comparison on a continuum.
Take the first example given in “subjective data.” If you do a hike one week and it takes you fifteen minutes of sitting on a rock, panting, at the turn-around point before you feel like you can start again, and the next week it only takes you five minutes (for similar effort/exertion), and you stand for most of that, you have shown “much improvement.”
Whether you use a scale of 1 to 3, 1 to 10, or 1 to 100 doesn’t matter so much. And the exact number (which would mean you’re looking at objective data) also may not matter. What matters is feeling better than last time for comparable effort. We’re after improvement.
How do you track your own progress? Is your way helpful? Or do you beat yourself up over a higher-than-expected heart rate and slower-than-desired pace? Could you use a better way to gauge improvement? One that matters to you?
Water for Ajax
For several years, I’ve been providing Ajax treats on the trail in a collapsible silicone food and water bowl, but the ribs have collected some unidentifiable, unappealing substance that won’t scrub off. Ajax deserves better. For his eighth birthday, I bought several hydration systems for us to test.
A plastic Lesotc 2022 allows the remaining water to return to the bottle. It comes with a mini-carabiner for attaching to your pack. One fatal design flaw requires sticking your fingers into the water to secure a plug after filling the cup. I opted to maintain squeeze pressure while he drank. Unfortunately, when I let go mid-lap, the slurp of the draining water startled him. Product fail.
Despite trying numerous water delivery options, Ajax still prefers the old-fashioned way: fresh from the stream.
The second was a Gology insulated 32-ounce thermos, complete with a carrying case, detachable food and water bowls, a slot for a phone or wallet, and a screw-on cup. The unit is completely dishwasher compatible, which was my main objection to the silicone bowls. But at two pounds, I’m still skeptical. The verdict? You might have guessed. Ajax prefers running water from a stream.
Assess Progress During Exploration
Having successfully tested the two hydration systems, our third objective was to explore the park. Once you know the main route in any park, it’s fun to get off the beaten path and see what else the park or mountain has to offer.
Our route took us up Big Tree Ridge Trail for about a mile (in the northeastern-most corner of the park marked by “You are Here”). We immediately turned left and wandered along the following trails: Military, Precipice Top, Surprise Creek, No Name, Shangri-La, Protector, Tibbetts Marsh, Cougar Pass, Klondike Swamp, Lost Beagle, and finally ended up at the parking lot at the Harvey Manning Trailhead.
Solace and Problem-Solving
The wonderful thing about starting a hike midweek at 6 a.m. is — you guessed it — solitude! We shared the trail with two trail runners, a pair of women hikers starting as we finished, 19 bird species, a mole, a mouse, squirrels, and a chipmunk.
But perhaps one of my favorite reasons to hike is to give my brain a rest from helping guide clients solve challenging problems. Hiking becomes a form of walking meditation. I may start using the subjective metric of “feeling emotionally better at the end of a hike than when I started.”
May all of you find solace in your own exploration. And if you have a metric you use that I haven’t written about here, please share so we can all benefit.
The trailhead has a nice map that I used to gauge the approximate locations of the Museum and the Peak. I also discovered there was a lake on the map, Granite Lake, which I’d never noticed before (top, blue).
Which Hike?
Obviously, a dog doesn’t have a direct vote in which hike to do, but Ajax’s comfort IS always an important consideration whenever I plan an outing. Especially since these Active Ajax Adventures were designed as a way for us to enjoy the outdoors together.
When we hiked Mt. Washington the week before, Dirty Harry loomed directly across the highway from us. Since there is still plenty of snow on trails at Exit 47, we’ve been hiking farther west. Why not compare the north-facing slopes of Mt. Washington with the south-facing slopes of Dirty Harry’s Peak? We arrived at the Dirty Harry’s Peak parking lot early enough to start hiking at 6:10 a.m. The earlier, the cooler, the better for us both.
There are plenty of great vantage points on the way to the Balcony. Catching this view of McClellan Butte reminded me that I haven’t visited it in over twenty years. Maybe next month!
Make Good Decisions About Where to Stop
The next decision was where to take our first break. We could visit one, two, or all three destinations, separate hikes in their own right: Dirty Harry’s Balcony (4.4 miles and 1,600 feet of gain), Dirty Harry’s Museum (5.6 miles and 2,800 feet of gain), and Dirty Harry’s Peak (9.2 miles and 3,326 feet of gain). I wasn’t sure Ajax would be comfortable visiting all three — he is, after all, wearing a fur coat in this heat — so we stopped at The Balcony first.
Dawn (7 a.m.) looking eastward over I-90 from Dirty Harry’s Balcony at Exit 38.
Having settled into a nice rhythm of water breaks every 45 minutes, we continued through the lush woods to mile 2.8 where we reached the fast-running Museum Creek. In a trip report I’d read the day before, another hiker suggested using poles to cross. I had found a suitable stick (my pole sat forgotten in the car) in case I needed one. But how would Ajax do?
Where to Cross?
I never want to take any unnecessary risks that would jeopardize my partner’s safety. I thought about securing his leash to his “suitcase harness” so I could grab him more easily if he slipped on the wet rocks. The last thing I wanted was for him to tumble downhill out of reach. At the edge of the racing water, we stood assessing the flow. I couldn’t find any “obvious way” across.
Nope. Too risky.
I actually turned us around. Maybe we could explore the Museum or check out the Ira Spring Connector closer to the Balcony.
Museum Creek is a raging river right now. I didn’t see an obvious, safe way across where Ajax stood so I turned us around.
Once Ajax stood safely beside me, however, I glanced around. Several rock “islands” stuck out to the left (low) of the fastest part of the stream. Maybe we could cross there.
With Ajax watching on the bank, I carefully made my way across several large pieces of wood someone had placed on top of stones. Safely across, I turned and called Ajax.
Heart in my throat, I watched as he paused and shook out his nervousness. Then, determined not to be left behind, he promptly joined me.
Relieved that we’d made it across, I gave him lots of lavish “good boy!” praise. As we continued, I wondered whether the continued snow melt would cause us greater difficulty on the way back. We’d literally have to “cross that bridge” when we came to it. Onward, to find snow.
Happy author selfie. Anything that gets me outdoors to fresh air, birdsong, solitude, and beauty makes me smile. And when I think we’ve reached our turnaround point but I find a safe way forward, I’m even happier.
Make Good Decisions About How Long to Rest
At a lovely spot half a mile beyond the stream crossing, we took a ten-minute break. I felt pretty confident we would not see any other hikers behind us. After all, only dedicated and experienced hikers would brave that stream crossing. And only insane people would be up this high so early!
Several large trees have been carved into lovely benches where hikers can sit and enjoy the view. We were almost to the steepest part, so I gave Ajax a snack and some water while I shot several photos.
The author’s selfie was taken while reclining on a carved tree bench roughly 1.5 miles from the summit.
Recharged, we easily stepped across numerous small stream crossings, covering the last 1.5 miles pretty comfortably. The trail includes some unrelenting switchbacks, and we reached snow about .5-.75 miles from the summit for the rest of the hike.
Where to Enjoy the Views?
From Dirty Harry’s Peak, you can look north, west, or south. The day we hiked, smoke from Canadian wildfires obscured most of Mt. Rainier to the south. My DSLR 100-400 mm lens would have been useless. Glad I didn’t carry it!
For our summit visit, we found a shaded spot on the far west end of the ridge where the snow had already melted. Ajax promptly plopped down to relax. I pulled out my foam sit pad and reclined, looking into the blue sky. As soon as I’d gotten comfortable, a gray jay (or ‘camp robber’, as some people call them) ventured close enough for a good shot on my phone.
Ajax approves of our summit spot out of the sun.
A gray jay joins us hoping for handouts.
After enjoying the views for half an hour, I packed everything up and we made our way to the “other summit” to check out the view to the north. I hoped we could see Glacier Peak and Mt. Baker; the haze made that impossible. But we spotted a lake I later identified as rounded Granite Lake, straight below us, with snow patches in places.
Granite Lake is due north of Dirty Harry’s Peak.
A melting snow bridge near the north summit.
My stomach dropped when I noticed what Ajax was standing on. Below him, the narrow snow bridge was rapidly melting. If it gave way… Fortunately, Ajax responds to my voice commands. He abruptly trotted to my side to lavish praise. Now, at the halfway point, we had to get down safely. The toughest part would be that stream.
Should We Include A Side Trip?
The trip down included interesting exchanges with eighteen single or paired hikers headed up. “Cross low,” I told them about the stream. I winced when I spotted a snake slithering across the trail in front of me. Fortunately, Ajax was exploring something behind me and didn’t see it.
There was also the issue of crossing Museum Creek again. We heard running water before we saw it. And twenty paces from it, Ajax came to an abrupt halt. Did he remember the first time? Could I coax him across again? I gave him another water and food break (lucky dog!) He’d done it before; could he do it again?
In order to make good decisions about this stream crossing, I had to look for an alternate route. Ajax succeeded with his second stream crossing at 10:30 a.m.
With a little coaxing, he scampered right across the stream, choosing his own way, reminding me of the pair of mountain goats I’d spotted on Dirtybox Peak situated between Mailbox and Dirty Harry’s Peak. Relieved and feeling invincible, I searched for the north turnoff for Dirty Harry’s Museum.
Dirty Harry’s Museum
There is no sign for the “entry” into the woods like there is for the trail itself. A small rock cairn sits on a large boulder directly across from a dark narrow opening in the trees. And once you enter the opening and head steeply upward, there are bright ribbons marking the way.
Ajax followed me for several minutes until the trail met the stream and opened up to Harry Gault’s rusty truck. I’ve only visited this particular destination once before, so we took a few minutes to explore the truck before heading down in earnest.
Harry Gault’s truck, what is known as Dirty Harry’s Museum.
Make Good Decisions: When Enough Is Enough
Once we returned to Dirty Harry’s Balcony around 11:15, I stopped for Ajax to have the rest of his kibble. I could tell his energy after visiting all three destinations. I paused to enjoy birdsong and chatted with another hiker until it looked like Ajax was ready. Only two miles to go! I estimated that keeping on our pace, we’d reach the car by 12:30.
But my pooped pup had had more than enough. A mile from the car he plopped down and wouldn’t go any farther. I considered carrying him but I knew that would just result in both of us being exhausted. So instead, I pulled out my sit pad, found a good rest spot, and let him take a brief nap.
No. More. Momma. When Ajax plops down and refuses to go on, I know he’s reached his limit, much like I did on Mt. Wrightson. In order to make good decisions, consider all in your party. I knew all we could do is take a break.
After a fifteen-minute break, he’d stopped panting, but he still lagged behind me. I finally secured his leash to his harness and coaxed him down to the car. He’d clearly reached his max.
Takeaways
As we head into summer, some of my top takeaways from this experience include the following tips:
Consider all party members’ strengths and weaknesses. I plan early morning trips so Ajax will be more comfortable. And if the forecast is for temperatures much above 75 degrees Fahrenheit, we stay local.
Choose destinations wisely. Granite Mountain and Dirty Harry’s Peak are two trails I’ve decided are best done with Ajax in the fall or spring when there is plenty of snowmelt or cooler temperatures from shade and cloud cover.
Consider destinations with rivers or lakes to cool off when it gets hot.
Study trip reports on such websites as Washington Trails Association to learn about conditions ahead of time. Knowing the stream was running high helped me be prepared both with a stick and with alternatives.
Be okay with changing the destination – go farther or shorten the trip depending on party preparation.
Listen to your party members, canine or human. If they show signs of needing a break, provide one. Pressing on may only make matters worse.
Indian paintbrush.
What top takeaways can you share about any of your recent learning experiences in the mountains? Share them in the comments so we can all benefit.
My recent adventures on Mt. Wrightson (in SE Arizona) had me wondering how my next hike in the Cascades would go. Last week Ajax and I hiked one of my favorite trails, Mt. Washington. I wanted to apply newly learned lessons in familiar conditions. The mountains were calling and I had to go… But this time, I set intentions that were different from my usual hikes.
The views of Mt. Rainier are breathtaking from many of the hikes along the I-90 corridor, including Mt. Washington, one of my favorite Cascades hikes.
Micro Intentions
I can hear you now. You’re probably remembering another post on intentions that I wrote at the start of the year. And you would be correct. That post addressed big-picture intentions (what some call “goals.”) You can use the same principle for small, daily objectives as well.
Often when I hike, I go wherever my mind and body suggest would be the most fun on any given day. Variables to consider might include weather, time, distance, elevation gain, and whether it’s a good place for shade, streams, snow, or solitude. Rattlesnake Ledge tops the list of places to avoid, as there are usually two dogs for every five people, a steady stream like ants on an anthill. Not the solitary wilderness experience we desire.
One of my set intentions for this trip was to include regular snack breaks. Ajax seemed to approve of this change.
Sample Intentions
I chose Mt. Washington. But not for reasons you might think. You can set intentions before you leave the house, or you can wait until you pull into the parking lot. An intention is an objective you want to reflect upon or work on as you hike.
Someone who usually races to the top may set an intention to be more mindful of the scenery. A hiker who feels energetic might set an intention to take fewer rest breaks. Another might want to see what happens when they change from eating a sandwich to snacking on trail mix and a protein shake. Someone else might want to try to identify five new flowers or birds. Intentions, like goals, can be anything that matters TO YOU.
The stream just beyond the Great Wall sign has overflowed the river bank, but it is still passable. A pole may help with footing. Ajax hesitated for a moment but followed me across.
My Set Intentions for May 11 Hike
Many of my clients enlist my help as their trainer to develop strength and speed. My intentions for this hike included metrics of a different kind. Based on what I learned on Mt. Wrightson, I set the following intentions:
Take two short 2-minute mind-body breaks during the first hour to adjust clothing and give Ajax water
Include a 10-minute snack break at the lake to put on traction for snow conditions if needed
Pause for 30-60 minutes at the summit to listen for birds, look for jays, take photos, and have a snack
Use the Merlin Bird ID app to see how many spring warblers and sparrows I could identify
Build my heat resilience and tolerance (we’ve had some unseasonally warm weather)
Learn what the current snowpack is like to recommend hikes for local Pacific Northwest clients
The last one was an afterthought. I’d seen WTA (Washington Trails Association) trip reports and knew we’d be on snow, but I wasn’t sure how low it started. I had microspikes, a sit pad, and a pole in case we encountered icy conditions. While I am glad I carried both, in most areas the snow is so soft you can manage without traction. A pole, however, is useful for recovering from postholes or crossing higher-than-usual streams.
The “turnstile” on the way up the last part of Mt. Washington, just beyond the lake.
Other than my Keen hiking boots, a pole and microspikes helped in the snow. My traction devices ended up coming off about ten minutes after I put them on; I decided they were more hassle than help.
Results of Our Experiment
In anticipation of swarms of people taking advantage of the unusually nice, sunny weather, we left the car at 5:30 a.m. We were the first to arrive. Each of our breaks served a specific purpose. We reached the summit with energy to spare and had there not been as much snow, we would have added a detour along the Great Wall on the descent.
We reached snow just beyond the sign that indicates the left-hand turnoff for the Great Wall. Above the river crossing, Ajax punched through in several spots. The trail has way more snow than I have seen at this time in May. With the warm weather, it should melt quickly. Expect snow in places until at least June 21.
Ajax is a real trooper. He may not appreciate the views as I do, but I sure do appreciate HIM.
Expect post-holing right now. As soon as I noticed Ajax punching through, I started to as well. We avoided tree wells and narrow snow bridges. Wherever we could, we stayed on the dirt trail so we wouldn’t unexpectedly lose our footing. At one point the trail headed straight up a steep snowy slope. Fortunately on the trip down we were able to find and stay on the switchbacks.
Brought to you by one very happy snow-loving hiker…
and her equally happy-to-rest pooch, Ajax!
Set Intentions: Become Happy Hikers
As for the results of setting intentions, we identified 17 bird species from their songs. We spotted Mt. Rainier, Mt. Baker, and Glacier Peak under some of the most brilliant blue skies ever. I came home with three times more photos than usual.
We had the mountain entirely to ourselves except for three women starting up as we returned to the car. And now I can steer clients to appropriate hikes because I have first-hand experience of how high the snowpack is. Best of all, despite adding deliberate rest stops, our pace was comparable to other hikes up the mountain. Mission accomplished!
If you have experimented with setting micro-intentions for your hikes, please feel free to share your results in the comments section so we can all pool our knowledge and learn from one another.
Last week, I described a birding trip to the top of Mt. Wrightson as part of my friend Pam Keyes’ video series for female hikers over 50. Be sure to enjoy her ten-minute video that accompanies this two-part series. I never expected to receive such valuable lessons in humility on the descent.
A beautiful April day in SE Arizona. I love the way clouds cast shadows on the ridges below.
The Approach
Before we reached our lunch spot, Pam received a text from her son Zach, a Type-1 Diabetic, that his blood sugar levels needed checking. Cell service is intermittent in the Santa Rita Mountains, depending on one’s provider. I had no service until we left the mountain, but Pam’s worked fine. We’d had a similar experience in Alaska so I wasn’t all that surprised. I almost never use my phone when I ramble with Ajax in the mountains except to take pictures.
Since Pam was able to track her son’s progress, we knew he’d reach the summit before we did. At one point we received a text asking if we had turned around. With so many switchbacks, it was understandable why someone might interpret your dot as going down rather than up. She assured him we were on our way, but if he wanted to head down before we got to the summit, he could.
Ponderosa, Apache pines, and silverleaf oaks dot the landscape the higher you climb. Sycamores are more common lower in the valley. Summer fires including the Sawmill Fire (2017) and the Florida Fire (2005) often burn through wide swaths of the mountains leaving behind dramatic snags for birds to repurpose.
As we climbed steep switchbacks toward Old Baldy Saddle, the birdsong disappeared. A few turkey vultures and dozens of ravens soared on thermals. The views became more dramatic, as did the sun’s intensity. Having had a number of basal cell carcinomas removed over the years, I keep my skin covered even on hot days. I relished the few breezes that passed through on the sun-scorched slope.
Old Baldy Saddle
At Old Baldy Saddle, the wind increased. I knew we had less than a mile to go, but plenty of elevation to gain. The sight of a couple of hikers in front of us awakened my competitive spirit. Maybe I could pass them.
Pam continues at a steady pace with Old Baldy Saddle behind her.
Pam insisted I go ahead and she’d follow. I picked up my pace, snapping photos along the way. I marveled at the terrain we’d traversed, including the winding path back to Old Baldy Saddle. A few minutes from the top, a ground squirrel stared at me, as if begging for handouts. Until that point, we had heard plenty of birds and seen a few lizards, but no mammals.
A brave ground squirrel blends in with his rocky surroundings.
Summit Experience
Around 1:30, I reached the summit. A rock ring remains the only indicator of the fire lookout tower that burned down in 1973. After greeting Zach and telling him his mom would be up shortly, I found a good spot so I could record her arrival.
Zach continued chatting with the other hikers. He looked refreshed, not at all like he’d gained 4,000 feet of elevation over 6 miles.
“We took good care of him,” several of the hikers promised, assuring us that they’d shared their sunscreen, food, and water. “He’s a good kid,” another man, Dave, added.
Panorama of the summit of Mt. Wrightson. Zach started down before us. Lessons in humility include carrying more water than you expect to need.
When Zach asked if I had any extra food, I handed him an apple. I also had an entire bag of trail mix, but the last thing I wanted to do was eat.
Lessons in Humility: Dwindling Water
Of greater concern was my dwindling water supply. In the Cascades, 3.5 liters is enough for a 15-mile hike. With my dog. With leftovers. But in SE Arizona, it only carried me halfway. As I downed my last few swallows of Keppi lemon-lime electrolytes water I remembered I still carried Pam’s completely full two-liter bag. Perhaps she could spare some.
When Dave, one of the men trading stories with Zach, offered me some water “to lighten his load,” I gratefully accepted. The ice-cold temperature made up for the bland flavor.
With a liter from Pam and another half liter generously supplied by Dave, I felt confident I’d have enough for the trip down. I also predicted that my mild headache (presumably from altitude) would abate as we descended. We probably could reach the car in two hours. Down is always faster.
Pam enjoying the summit of Mt. Wrightson.
I took several last shots with my DSLR camera. I’d carried the extra weight up, and by golly, I was going to use it! My last task was to sign the summit register. Camera and binoculars stowed, and after enjoying the summit for half an hour, we started down.
Rejoining Walt
When we reached Old Baldy Saddle we got a pleasant surprise: Walt! He had continued up from his earlier resting spot. What wasn’t a surprise was that Zach had taken the car keys and continued down alone. He struck me as a remarkably independent and capable teenager.
At the summit, I’d considered asking Pam if I could use her phone at the Saddle to let my husband know we were running long. I forgot. As we started down the sun-baked switchbacks, Pam handed me her phone. Everything changed.
The path from Old Baldy Saddle to the summit. Snow patches remain in late April at 9,000 feet elevation. Lessons in humility: know the warning signs of heat illnesses.
Lessons in Humility: Warning Signs
My headache got progressively worse, not better. I finally asked Pam if she had any painkillers. Ibuprofen is a staple in most First Aid kits, but it’s contra-indicated for me. I couldn’t come up with the word “Tylenol” to save my life. She also noticed that my face was quite red despite wearing a hat and sunscreen. Despite doing everything right, including staying hydrated, protecting sensitive skin from the sun, eating, and replacing valuable electolytes, my body needed help cooling down.
Squirrels and birds have adapted to the harsh SE AZ conditions. As a Seattleite for over 35 years, I’m used to rain and snow. I knew the heat could be an issue but I had no idea it would affect me so much.
Bellows Spring Revisited
When we reached Bellows Spring, I grabbed the magenta scarf from my pack and soaked it in the trickle of water from the snow. That first squeeze of cool water on my face felt like I’d died and gone to heaven.
At some point, Walt reappeared (Had he waited for us? Had she texted him? Was he still recording video for her project?) Pam explained her concerns about my overheating. “We’ll just take it slow on the way down. Lots of breaks,” they said. Wait, what? I’m usually fastest on the descent. What the heck was going on?
We did THAT? A view on the way down through the woods. My phone was very low on batteries so I took precious few photos on the way down. Plus my focus was getting to the car safely.
“Put your whole hat in the stream and get it wet, too,” they suggested. Oh my goodness, pure bliss. For several minutes after that, I felt invincible. Until nausea and headache continued.
“Take your scarf off every so often so your body can get rid of the heat,” they suggested. Pam shared stories of two people she’d helped in the past who had heat stroke. One ended up in the hospital. I won’t. No more hospitals for ME!
A view of the reclamation pond. The burned slope provided little in the way of shade from the mid-afternoon sun.
Heat Illnesses
Hearing her use the word “stroke” jarred me. I knew from all my first aid training that heat cramps, heat exhaustion, and heat stroke (also known as sunstroke) are very real concerns for people unaccustomed to training in hot, arid conditions.
I am a snow girl through and through. I’ve experienced cramps before, but I couldn’t see my hot face or detect my slurred speech. I just knew I felt very warm, nauseous, headachey, and HOT. But this could definitely be heat exhaustion. If I wasn’t careful, it could deepen into something much more serious.
Resting and reflecting on my body’s inability to cool itself down. Photo courtesy of Pam Keyes.
When we finally reached shade, Pam suggested I remove my long-sleeved shirt and hat. She offered to take my pack. I hesitated for a split second before accepting her help. The next thing I knew, she was pouring water all over my shirt. “This will help your body cool down.”
Lessons In Humility: Accept Help
Pam asked if it would be okay to include my experience with heat exhaustion in the video. I hesitated again. What does it say about me that I had trouble on the last two miles of an 11-mile hike? Would people think less of me?
But a second later, I agreed. I looked down at my Go for Good wristband and reminded myself of my intentions to see the positives in every negative outcome. How could I turn what I perceived, in the moment, as a failure into a valuable learning experience, for myself, and for my readers? What lessons came from it?
I still maintained my sense of humor and humility and demonstrated the “Thinker’s Pose” during one of my rest breaks. Photo courtesy of Pam Keyes.
No matter how fit or well-prepared you are, something unexpected can still happen.
Do what you can to prevent heat illness and heed warning signs of a potential problem.
Realize that one event does not mean it will happen again, whether you experience heat or cold illness, or altitude sickness. Every trip is unique.
The scouts’ motto, “Be prepared,” applies on every trip. Expect the unexpected and you won’t be surprised.
Always carry MORE than you think you will need, especially if you don’t expect to find a water source.
Realize that when you’re at the summit you’re only halfway done. Most problems occur on the way down.
Accept help readily and graciously when someone offers. I owe Pam my life and I’d do it all again.
Perhaps the most surprising part of the whole trip was the great time we had collaborating on Pam’s wonderful video project. Experience Wrightson for yourself in Pam’s ten-minute video, including the 28 bird species we encountered during our adventure.
I have been a physically active person my entire life. Neighborhood games til dusk in elementary school. Swim team and basketball in high school. Crew (rowing team) in college. Powerlifting in my 30’s. Mountaineering in my 40’s. And hiking with Ajax over the past 8 years. On April 23, 2023, I hiked to the top of Mt. Wrightson with a good friend, Pam, as part of her video series for female hikers over 50. When we started, I never expected we’d hike the entire Old Baldy Trail.
Old Baldy map and elevation profile: traveling to the top of Mt. Wrightson would require 4000′ gain, 11.4 miles round trip, attaining an altitude of 9,456′, the highest point in the Santa Rita Mountains.
A Visit to SE Arizona
A month before my husband and I traveled to SE Arizona for a week of birding, I sent Pam a message letting her know we’d be south of Tucson in a few weeks. The last time we’d seen each other was during the summer in 2021 when she and her kids joined us for dinner in Seattle.
We got to host Pam and her two kids for dinner on July 24, 2021.
“Is there anything you feel is a must-see while we’re there?” I asked.
“Me!” she replied emphatically. We agreed to hike part of the Old Baldy Trail on Mt. Wrightson,
Our goal was to shoot a video combining my birding and physical preparation knowledge, with her expertise in filming and her familiarity with the region. I wanted to start early enough to avoid the worst of the mid-day heat. If you’ve followed my blog over the past two years, you already know I absolutely adore snow. The more, the better.
Starting Up Mt. Wrightson on Old Baldy Trail
At the parking lot on Sunday, April 23, 2023, following our first full day of birding, we hit our first snag. Pam had borrowed a day pack from a friend, but when she tried it on, the lumbar stays poked her awkwardly in the back. Without a thought, I offered to carry two of her liters of water to make it more comfortable.
The Keyes family poses in the parking lot: Walt, Pam, and their son Zach.
I avoid applying sunscreen until it’s absolutely necessary, preferring to absorb as much natural vitamin D as I can. I also try to stay covered with long lightweight pants or tights and breathable long-sleeved shirts. Sunburn on the ears, neck, or stripes behind the knees (where I’ve missed spots) is NOT my idea of a fun way to kick off our birding vacation.
A little before 8 a.m. Walt and Zach headed up the Old Baldy Trail together, leaving the two of us to enjoy girl talk as though the 20 months between visits was more like 20 days.
A glimpse through the forest.
Stops Along the Ascent
As we walked and talked, we took our time, stopping to check out birds and views. I shared my binoculars whenever any birds appeared. We used the Merlin Bird ID app to identify songbirds that got approached the trail. And I tried to provide a few tips for the beginning birder.
One of 27 bird species, the yellow-eyed junco, that we saw or heard on our Mt. Wrightson hike.
Sky Islands
Whenever I explore unfamiliar trails, I lose track of time. Especially if I’m deep in conversation with good company.
I found myself rewriting preconceived notions of SE Arizona (limited to the Grand Canyon and Sonoran Desert Museum) as mainly desert. Pam described the various mountain ranges in the region as “Sky Islands” with unique microhabitats and slight variants of all the flora and fauna.
A little farther along the trail, we found Walt stretched out, snoozing in a patch of sun. His back was still bothering him from their backpacking trip to Horseshoe Mesa in the Grand Canyon the week before, so he was taking his time. He graciously agreed to shoot some video of us doing some hamstring stretches for Pam’s project before we continued.
Early Lunch on Mt. Wrightson
Not too much farther along, we chose a shaded spot with a view for lunch. I ate two oranges and some trail mix and soaked in the sights.
We could see a copper mine’s reclamation pond from high up on Mt. Wrightson with Sky Island mountains behind.
I spotted a turquoise body of water that stood out from all the rest. “Copper mining tailings,” Pam explained. A reclamation pond. It may be wastewater, but boy, what an amazing view of it!
Snow at Bellows Spring
Once we resumed hiking, it wasn’t long before we reached what has become one of my favorite spots (why will become more apparent in Part II): Bellows Spring, at 8,153′.
SNOW!! In SE Arizona in April!! Bellows Spring at 8,153′ had running water beneath a snow patch. A hike after my own heart.
Man with a Tourniquet
Once we reached the baking-hot switchbacks leading up to the Old Baldy Saddle, a mile from the summit but the most elevation gain yet to climb, we encountered an elderly man with blood streaks all up and down his arm. Out of respect for his privacy, I did not shoot any photos although the image is burned in my mind.
The five people he was hiking with remained buoyant and positive, trying to keep his spirits up so he wouldn’t go into shock. One woman mentioned the time they’d started the tourniquet. A tourniquet! Holy moly, surely not — anything I’ve read about tourniquets indicates likely loss of limb afterward. Poor guy! We asked if there was anything we could do to help but aside from carrying out his broken, discarded pole we found on the way down, they insisted they would be okay.
Blood spatters on ragged rock where the gentleman fell.
I found a bandana and propped it up on a bush; it was gone by the time we came back. We also found where the gentleman must have slipped on some steeper jagged rock that was the source of his injury.
Successful Summit of Mt. Wrightson
By the time we reached the summit around 1:30, I had a slight headache. “It’s the altitude,” I told myself. I hadn’t been over 9,000 feet elevation since my eighth summit of Rainier in 2017. But headaches at that altitude are pretty common, especially after gaining 4,000 feet.
I’d consumed most of my 3 liters of electrolyte-dowsed water, thanks to the recommendation by my naturopath. Zach had been hanging out at the summit for some time; the breezes at the top and the thermals the ravens were cruising felt wonderful.
I crouch on the summit of Mt. Wrightson in SE AZ, 9500′ high, with stunning views of sky islands in all directions.
But as you may know, whenever you reach the summit, you’re only halfway. “When the student is ready, the teacher appears” is spot on. Don’t miss next week’s blog post on Part II: The Descent.
On a recent week-long trip to Southeast Arizona, my husband and I joined forces with two friends who, several years ago, completed the Master Birder program offered by what was formerly known as Seattle Audubon. I added 46 new life birds to my Ebird.org list and, as a foursome, we encountered 175 unique bird species. If you have ever wanted to learn more about our avian friends but don’t know how to get started, consider this your Birding 101 tutorial.
An Acorn woodpecker has a snack. These birds are common in SE AZ but far less common in Western WA unless there are giant oaks nearby.
Birding 101: Where and When?
The best times to bird are during spring and fall migration, but you can appreciate birds year-round. In spring, not only can you see them, often in beautiful bright plumage (the better to attract mates!), but you will often hear them first, especially birds with melodic songs like thrushes, robins, and song sparrows. Birds are more active near dawn and dusk, building nests, foraging for food, and enjoying spring.
Birds need shelter, food, and water. They also need protection from predation, areas where they can build nests and rear their young. The best place to start studying birds is in your own backyard or local park or green space.
A tiny hummingbird pauses in flight to sip nectar from tubed plants. We saw 7-8 species and I’m still mastering the differences.
If you have any feeders, start by studying the birds that visit. Most people can identify common birds such as the American robin, mallard, and American crow. How many birds do you know already? You might be surprised.
If you prefer larger birds such as house finches, goldfinches, juncos, stellar’s jays, and towhees, try a seed or nut feeder. Just be aware that squirrels also love peanuts and are very crafty.
Do you like hummingbirds? Try putting out sugar water or colorful pink or red plants such as fuchsia. And if you like ducks and other waterfowl, you might want to learn which species winter in your area during the off-season.
A pair of mating bushtits in Ramsey Canyon, SE AZ.
Once you can identify a handful of common birds, it’s time to grow your list. A bird guide such as The Sibley Field Guide to Birds of Western North America is useful for identifying and studying new birds. Participating in neighborhood bird walks at local parks can also be a fun way to learn from more experienced birders. Plan to spend a few hours on a nice weekend morning craning your neck and ears.
A new-to-me life bird, the Arizona woodpecker.
Having a good pair of optics can make seeing hard-to-spot birds easier. While you don’t need super-expensive binoculars to gain an appreciation for the birds you’re watching, the higher the quality binoculars, the more enjoyable your experience. Be sure to get a few tips from the vendor on how best to adjust and care for your optics before you venture into the field.
If you want to travel light, Cornell University has several great resources you can take with you on your phone. Ebird.org allows you to keep track of all the birds you see. We’ve been keeping track since 2010. My life list, or the total tally of bird species I’ve had visual contact with, is now at 657 species.
Birding 101: There are many ways to expand your bird knowledge. Start today! A stunning Scott’s oriole, another life bird.
Another great resource, also through Cornell University, is Merlin Bird ID. This app allows you to visually and audibly identify birds you might not know. Not only can you make a recording of the songs you hear, you can replay them against other apps or have expert birders confirm what you heard, in case Merlin is unable to identify them.
Birding 101: Tips on Spotting Birds
You’ve got a place to watch birds, a pair of binoculars, and an app or guide. Now what? Here are a few final birding tips on how to spot the birds.
Spend time in an area. Birds often will stop singing as soon as an intruder arrives. By standing still and letting them know you are not a threat, they’ll often resume their behavior.
Keep your movements slow and deliberate. Rushing any wildlife will cause them to dart or fly away.
Keep your gaze soft. Rather than hunting for birds with the binoculars, look for movement with your naked eye then bring the binoculars up to get a better look.
Use reference points to get others in your party to see your bird. “That tree, right over there!” is not at all helpful. “The cottonwood, go up to the V, then look twenty feet up the largest trunk, it’s creeping up on the right-hand side below the obvious vegetation clump” is way more useful.
Be patient with yourself. Do not try to master all the birds or you will get overwhelmed. Aim for adding 5-10 birds an outing, and even that is pretty aggressive.
Don’t forget to look for foliage and mammals, too. Above all else, getting outside is all about having fun!
Don’t forget all the other things you can spot outside, from flora and fauna to landscapes and portraits.
Much More to Come!
I have very exciting news. I have partnered with a videographer friend, Pam Campbell Keyes, who is doing a series on hiking in SE Arizona targeting women over 50 on her YouTube channel. We will be bringing you a special film treat about our adventure to Mt. Wrightson in a few weeks. Don’t miss it!
If you follow any sports, you’re probably familiar with the phrase, “Go for the gold.” Aim high, shoot for the stars, and push hard. To remind myself of my goal to cultivate a growth mindset, I modified it to my new mantra, go for good. Simple. Catchy. Easy to remember. Motivating. I even wrote it on an elastic band and placed it on my wrist as a visible reminder of my intention.
A visible reminder of my intention: Go for Good band. Every time it snags on things it reminds me of my commitment. The more I discuss it with people, the more I look for challenges as positive learning opportunities. Gimmick? Perhaps. Effective? Definitely.
To me, go for good means seeking what’s good about any struggle, obstacle, mistake, failure, disappointment, or problem. Finding the silver lining. Turning what I may have previously viewed negatively into a positive. In other words, rewriting my negative stories is becoming a path toward building the mental muscle of optimism.
Flight Delay
Last week’s return flight from Asheville to Seattle is my first example of a negative story. Thunderstorms grounded all planes into and out of Chicago’s O’Hare International for several hours mid-day. Instead of arriving in Seattle at 6:30 p.m. I got home past midnight. With only four hours of sleep before a day of clients. It would take several days to recover from lost sleep and jetlag. But we have no control over Mother Nature.
Ajax poses in front of cherry trees on the UW campus.
Go For Good 1
I rewrote my story to include the following good lessons. I:
am fully capable of solo travel even when things go haywire
have a greater appreciation for our local airport in Seattle, which feels far more manageable than O’Hare
had ample time to fully recharge my phone battery, which had declined to 10% (neither flight had charge capabilities in my row)
remember how important it is to set and stick to personal boundaries (courtesy of my brother)
enjoyed recounting my adventure with my husband who picked me up at the airport (with Ajax). I can use my light rail pass for a future trip
came up with ideas for future unplanned or long layovers: explore the airport
A shot of artwork at Chicago’s O’Hare Airport en route from gate D4 to C31. It’s an intimidating airport but next time I get stuck there I plan to explore it more fully.
In short, if I stop, reflect on the entire experience, and look for the good things, it’s likely that I can find them. I can also learn from previous mistakes and plan how to handle them the next time they happen.
Today, I describe my return trip to Seattle in terms of “an adventure” rather than “a disaster.” As a learning experience rather than an epic failure. What’s more, instead of dreading my next flight, I’m eager to see what challenges come up. Because they will.
Cherry Blossom Ramble
Another example of a story I’ve rewritten happened on a recent ramble with Ajax. The cherry blossoms on the University of Washington campus reached peak bloom on April 5, 2023. On Tuesday, I had a few spare hours, so we drove to the Horticulture Center for our thirtieth unique Active Ajax Adventure.
Cherry blossoms in full bloom on the UW campus in Seattle. Go for good: on a rainy, windy, mid-week day, “the good” included fewer people lingering for photos, pink “snow” to add a playful quality to our ramble, and a moody sky for atmospheric photos.
We headed up the steep hill to the north campus to see the cherry blossoms on the quad before wandering around the Union Bay Natural Area viewing twenty species of birds. We had high winds, high lake levels, chilly temperatures, and overcast skies. What’s more, my plan to connect with my daughter in the morning failed. Without her, who would take my picture? And what about getting a photo of the two of us with the trees?
Go For Good 2
It turns out that she had a science lab at noon. She kept her phone off until later in the afternoon. But if I rewrite the story with a focus on the good, I come up with the following positives:
Rainy conditions mean fewer gawkers in my photographs and fewer distractions for Ajax
Overcast skies create dramatic backdrops for photos
Ajax and I had a lovely 90-minute ramble together, the first since my trip to North Carolina
I reflected on my own time on campus during grad school, as well as last year’s visit to campus for Prospective Students Day with our daughter
We enjoyed pink snow as the wind blew petals from the trees. Where else do you get to see that?
I got to be spontaneous, something I want to do more of
And though I’m not a fan of selfies, it’s always available as a last resort
What’s more, by trying something new, I continue to model for my daughter how to take risks, get outside our comfort zones, and keep trying if we happen to fail the first dozen times.
A beaming pair of friends at “Prospective Students Day” on March 26, 2022, along with thousands of weekend spectators.
Challenging Interactions
My last example of a rewritten story includes interactions with challenging people. That might include folks who have differing opinions from mine, who are in a different stage of life, or who make me feel inadequate. You know the type: anyone you might tend to avoid.
Go For Good 3
Instead of avoiding challenging people, I can remind myself that:
Everyone is doing the best they can with the tools they have available
Each person has a complex backstory that shapes them, a story I can’t imagine; I can only ask about it
My job is to get curious about each person I meet and look for a way to connect or similarities in our stories
If I look at challenging people as mysteries to solve or puzzle pieces to fit together, I can replace fear with curiosity, which unlocks my problem-solving ability and makes the conversation far more enjoyable
I can seek one GOOD thing about each interaction. It’s there!
A selfie with the cherry blossoms.
Go for Good Takeaways
In order to rewrite your stories, here are some takeaway tips. The next time you feel like you have a problem you can’t solve or something has gone wrong, ask yourself three questions:
What would an optimist focus on in this situation? In other words, what GOOD do you see?
What have you LEARNED from this experience that you can apply to future experiences? Everything is a teacher if we are open to learning
How could you turn the current problem into an OPPORTUNITY to explore something you haven’t before?
If technology frustrates you, try thinking of the advantages it might bring once you master it. When you have to wait in a long line, consider striking up a conversation with the person behind you. And the next time something doesn’t go quite as you expect, look for the benefits of the way it did.
Please feel free to share any comments below. I love hearing from readers.
Two weeks ago, I discussed the importance of developing a life-purpose map to help you get where you want to go. Last week, I introduced the idea of gaining a fresh perspective on your goals and stretching outside of the familiar to challenge yourself in new ways. The third and final post in this mini-series outlines my journey through setting SMART goals. Join me as I launch my journey toward growing a growth mindset.
Spring has sprung in Asheville, NC
Assess Your Mindset
Stanford University professor Carol Dweck has studied mindset for over 30 years. If you want to know whether you have a fixed or a growth mindset, take her short quiz.
I know I’m onto something when I read part of my results: “You may be coasting when you could be excelling. You probably have more potential than you are using.”
Add to that my husband’s recent question, “Do you want to look back at this time with regrets, or amazement at all you’ve accomplished?” Easy. I hate regret.
Quilled ornaments at Thyme in the Garden.
Steps Toward a Growth Mindset
Once I recognized that I want to develop stronger tendencies toward a growth mindset, I tried imagining what would be different when I had one. In other words, starting with the end goal in mind. But what exactly does someone with a growth mindset do?
Growth Mindset Attributes
Below is a comprehensive list of mindset attributes compiled from a wide variety of resources including Precision Nutrition, Future Learn, Carol Dweck’s research, and Steve Hogarty at WeWork.
Wood ducks remind me of my desire to grow a growth mindset. I think of problems as water droplets that I can shake off my feathers and continue to go with the flow.
Create a Shortlist
I can hear you griping. It’s just like reading a better eating habits list that starts with “chew each bite forty times,” “avoid multi-tasking,” and “set your fork down between each bite.” If you’re like me, you took one look at the long list and felt like quitting before you even started.
That’s the fixed mindset at work.
Read the list again. What three actions jump out at you? What are a few items you feel could be helpful but not impossible, that might result in forward progress? That’s where to start. Here’s my shortlist.
Thyme in the Garden, a lovely boutique garden shop outside of Asheville, NC
Channel Your Inner Wood Duck
My mantra for “roll with the punches” has been to “channel my inner wood duck.” I love the beautiful, multi-colored birds pictured above. I imagine water droplets — problems — landing on my feathers and simply shaking them off and continuing on my way down the stream. No harm, no foul.
What’s a Reasonable Expectation?
When I reached “set realistic and reasonable expectations,” I hesitated. What change might I see by summer, if I put serious effort into it? Can someone with decades of fixed mindset develop a growth mindset in all areas of life? Is it a lifetime pursuit? If I wanted to see measurable progress, how might I go about making a deliberate change?
Beautiful blooming bushes remind me of the one constant in life: Change.
Growth Mindset Action 1: Identify Bright Spots
I finally settled on the last one on the list, “Identify bright spots,” as my first action. I already have a habit of recording three wins each evening (an activity suggested in Dan Sullivan’s The Gap and The Gain). So it should be straightforward to change that to “record bright spots related to a growth mindset.”
In this way, I am training myself to call obstacles challenges and opportunities, not roadblocks. Language matters.
Blooming tulips during a walk in Asheville, NC.
Whichever task you choose, focus on one action for two weeks. Write down your start and end date on a calendar or app. Then at the end of two weeks, assess whether you notice a difference.
Set up a support system. Give yourself a sticker when you complete your daily task. Set up reminders to keep it front and center. Tell someone about your intention. When you reach the end of the time period, decide whether you want to keep the habit (if it helped) or change focus to a new one. Every two weeks, evaluate your progress.
In this second of three posts exploring our life’s purpose, I discuss the importance of viewing our goals from a fresh perspective. Are you ready, able, and willing to critically examine your current mindset and feelings about change in order to achieve better results? If so, join us on a pictorial ramble through Salmon Creek Ravine in Burien.
On our third drive-by, I spotted this sign beside the road and figured we’d park and explore on foot. Fortunately, it marked a rutted dirt path that took us down into the ravine.
Ramble 27
Last Wednesday, Ajax and I drove to Burien on an errand and took a detour to explore Salmon Creek Ravine. On the third try, we happened upon a wooden sign near Seahurst Park, a park we visited earlier this year. Right beside it is a trail leading down to sloping hillsides of ferns and birdsong. This path looked promising.
For the next hour or so, we explored the trail twisting through old-growth cedars, madrone, Douglas firs, large maples, and alders. Mid-morning in March on a weekday is a fabulous time to visit if you want the place to yourself. We only saw one other person. And one abandoned backpack.
As we walked, I reflected on a goal I recently developed during a Precision Nutrition course: to change my fixed mindset into a growth mindset. But how, exactly, was I going to do that? What if I tried an approach similar to the one I use with my clients?
A girl’s backpack abandoned on the trail was the only item that didn’t belong, other than a bag for trash at one of the junctures.
Start with the End Goal in Mind
To embark on any physical journey, such as climbing Mt. Rainier or hiking Rim-to-rim-to-rim in the Grand Canyon, you start with the end goal and work backward to the present day. I am well acquainted with programming for physical objectives. After all, I’ve been doing it for twenty-five years.
Alpine Tasks
In the mountains, we face any number of challenges such as navigating slopes while carrying a heavy pack. Dealing with the weather. Paddling for hours with extended legs. Preparing meals. Building shelters, igloos, or wind walls. Sleeping on uneven, hard ground. Looking upward while a partner climbs. The list is long. And each item provides a different stress on the mind and body.
Now view each activity through the lens of training needs. What are the aerobic and anaerobic requirements of the trips you’d like to go on? What skills do you need to improve? How much upper, core, and lower body strength is needed? Do you have sufficient flexibility to complete the tasks? Do you need to invest time and money in more training? What areas might you develop to improve your experience? By starting with the end in mind, you get an idea of what you need to accomplish your goal.
Enjoying a fresh perspective on a beautiful spring day. Ajax explores wonderful scents on the Salmon Creek Ravine trail.
Use a Fresh Perspective to Determine What’s Lagging
The simplest way to find the gaps in the example above is to do a trial outing. If you’re preparing for a backpack or trek, hike on a trail similar to the one you’ll be traveling on. To get ready for a kayaking trip, pull out your kayak and test how you do. For a multi-day adventure, see how you feel two days in a row doing your activity without a rest day, what we call a back-to-back.
Afterward, assess how you feel, what was easy, and where you had difficulty. Then, instead of simply doing more of whatever feels easy, create a plan designed to minimize your weaknesses.
This selfie was taken in front of a hollowed-out tree, one of my favorite finds on this new-to-me trail.
Shore Up Perceived Weaknesses
If your legs give out going uphill, add lower-body strength training exercises such as step-ups, squats, wall sits, dips, or lunges. If your arms fail, add upper-body strength training exercises including pull-ups or dead hangs, pushups, and arms work.
Do you go forever on flat ground without a backpack, but struggle whenever you carry a pack? If so, spend additional time on the trail with a loaded pack. If you find talus, scree, or boulder slopes challenges, seek them out and practice on them. And if you dread getting out of a tent all stiff and tight, add flexibility and mobility exercises to your training. Did certain muscle groups ache? Add a few targeted stretches for the lower back, hips, and shoulders.
Ajax gets a refreshing drink from the gravel creek bed at Salmon Creek Ravine.
Finally, assess your gear. How did your feet do? Do you need new hiking boots or more time to get your feet accustomed to the trail? Did your pack cause you problems? Determine whether you’re loading it evenly. You may also want to consider investing in a fitted pack for your frame.
A Fresh Perspective for Life Objectives?
So, could that same basic model help with the less tangible goal of developing a growth mindset? How, exactly, do you go about “building resilience,” “becoming more positive,” and “asking better questions”? Are there other steps I’m forgetting or overlooking? What would it look like to “be more positive?” How do you know when you reach a goal of “asking better questions”? What would a day look like if you have a growth mindset rather than a fixed mindset?
Do you have a goal that has been weighing on your mind for a long time? Are you uncertain how to get started? Join me for next week’s post when I share some tools for moving onward, upward, and forward.
On Saint Patrick’s Day, I wanted to do something special to mark the halfway point in my series of Active Ajax Adventures. For our 26th outing, what started as a local urban walk turned into a multi-hour exploration that incorporated Grace Cole Nature Park. Ever since, I’ve been contemplating change, mindsets, and direction. In the first of three related posts, I share ideas for how to develop a life purpose map.
The Grace Cole Nature Park is only accessible from the north. If I’d studied the street map more carefully, I would have realized our ramble would take longer.
Without a Map…
My intention was to visit a few Little Free Libraries on the way to the southeast area of the green space. I knew to head due north, then assumed we’d find the first right to head into the park. But all of the roads kept leading left. We ended up .7 miles north of our destination, clear up in Lake Forest Park.
It was such a lovely spring day, and both of us were enjoying ourselves. When we finally arrived at the nature park, we’d already walked for ninety minutes. “At least,” I thought, “it will be quicker getting home.” Not quite. We had to head north again until we found a right turn that would finally lead us back south.
One of my mistakes was assuming Grace Cole Nature Park was in Shoreline. If I’d known it was considered part of Lake Forest Park, or if I’d looked more closely at the access roads, we probably would have driven.
Analogy for Life Purpose Map
As we rambled, I got to thinking about the importance of maps, both for travel and life. Without directions to your exact destination, it takes far longer to get there. If we don’t know what we want, we can’t aim for it. And without having a firm idea of our life’s destination, we’re likely to squander precious time or try things that go nowhere.
But in some ways, that makes the journey more interesting, and more fun. On our ramble, we got to see things we wouldn’t have if we’d driven. I shot ninety photos that morning. Most of them were discoveries outside of the park. You could say we “flew by the seat of our pants.”
Ajax approaches the duck ponds along the short boardwalk through the wetlands.
Plotter, Pantser, or Plantser?
Likewise, writers are considered to be either plotters or pantsers. Plotters figure out the start and end points, with a few key points along the way. Pantsers tend to wing it, or “fly by the seat of their pants.” They come across surprises along the way that inform, enrich, and alter their story.
Hybrids, known as plantsers, do a little of both. I like to know my end destination, but how I get there varies widely. Pilots are off course 95% of the time yet somehow they still reach the target airport.
At work, I am a plotter. I’ve learned how to help clients set reasonable goals and pursue them. In rambles with Ajax, I’m becoming a plantser. And in life and writing, I have been more of a pantser. Which are you? Does it vary, depending on the situation you find yourself in?
Oops. “You have now left the park and are entering the backyard of a private residence.” A kind way to say “Turn around, fool.” Does your life purpose map exist? Does it have detours and false starts?
Life Choices as Teens
It feels like I have been a pantser most of my life, jumping at the next thing that sounds feasible. I went to college on the East Coast because that’s what a lot of my classmates’ older siblings were doing. I stayed there because I found a job at the Smithsonian Institute that sounded fun. And I moved to Seattle for graduate school because I’d only heard positive things about it.
If someone had told my high school self that I’d live my adult life in Seattle as an author and personal trainer running my own company, I never would have believed it. Most of what I do now never crossed my radar as a teenager. And most of what I write about now, I could not have known about even two years ago. We expect too much from our teens.
A life purpose map doesn’t include everything. If I’d followed a map to Grace Cole Nature Park I would have missed some wonderful surprises along the way.
Life Purpose Map Questions
Regardless of whether you like to plot or wing it, how do you start making a life purpose map? Below are some questions to reflect on or discuss with a partner, spouse, coach, or someone close to you.
Have a conversation with your significant other or close family member about potential “couples goals.” What would you like to accomplish by the end of the year? In the next two years? Five years?
Think about what you have enjoyed the most in the past five years. How might you include more of that in the coming months?
Imagine yourself at the age of 85. What have you accomplished? Where have you traveled? Whose lives have you enriched? What obstacles have you overcome? What does your daily life look like?
Finally, try writing your obituary to get in touch with what matters most. Who would you want to be present at your celebration of life? What do you want to be remembered for? What do you want to have accomplished in your lifetime? Some people call these items a “bucket list.”
A commemorative bench in Grace Cole Nature Park. The plaque is for a loved one who was a “pacifist, musician, and nature-lover.” What three words best describe you? Are they words you’d want on your own bench?
Takeaways
Creating a life purpose map requires time, focus, mental energy, and patience. Think about the questions posted above during your next walk or hike. Send your deepest desires and wishes to the multiverse and be open to what happens next. Reflect on what you WANT, instead of what you DON’T want. The more definite you are about what you want, the more likely you are to hit the target.
On ramble 26, I knew I wanted to visit Grace Cole Nature Park. But I had no time restrictions or specific mileposts along the way. Any route would do. Is that how you want to meander through your life? My path to blogger and business owner was quite circuitous. Yet I would change very little about it.
Would a more specific map have helped? I don’t know. But I do know I want to get more specific for the next phase of my adult life. What about you?
Ajax posed beside a huge tree stump in Grace Cole Nature Park. His look says it all: “Mamarazzi, aren’t you tired of taking my picture?”
In an upcoming blog, we’ll look at how to get very specific with what you want in order to figure out what practices to put into your daily life.
Earlier this week, I found myself thinking, “This is really frustrating. I wish somebody would tell me what to do.” Minutes later, in a completely different situation, I said to myself, “I don’t want anyone else telling me what to do.” Huh? How can we resolve conflicting messages such as these?
On a beautiful morning at Magnuson Park, I struggled with the conflicting messages warring in my mind.
Ambivalence Is Normal
Wanting one thing in a certain area of your life but something else that apparently conflicts with it in a different area — like my pseudo-desire for guidance — is totally normal. Just like you can have a fixed mindset in certain areas of your life but a growth mindset in others.
Ambivalence comes from craving something different, but also wanting things to continue as they are. Sound familiar?
Think of a situation in your life where you have tried repeatedly to change but you just haven’t had the success you’d like. Maybe you lose a few pounds one week but gain it all back the next. Or you make fantastic progress one week and fall into a slump the next. You know you should be moving forward — after all, who doesn’t want to be healthy, happy, and successful — but you just can’t get consistent.
Decorated maintenance shed near Magnuson Park’s Promontory Point.
Can you be okay living with ambivalence, at least for a short while until you’re ready to change?
Key Words for Change
Sometimes clients think they “should” want x or y, but then they don’t take any actions toward them. Maybe they sabotage themselves or fall into “when X, then Y” thinking. I’ve written about that pesky word “should” before. How if you’re using it often, write it big on a piece of paper and then scribble over it. Remove it from your working vocabulary.
The simplest answer is: it’s not what they really want. Yet.
Whenever you have a big enough reason — a big enough why — you will find the motivation and courage to change. The desire to change must come from within. And even when we succeed at changing, we’re still not completely immune to backsliding. We need to develop self-compassion and recognize that even during struggle we are human and worthy of love and respect. Whether we are stuck or moving forward.
This is a perfect example of going nowhere, fast. These stairs at Promontory Point were so overgrown with branches that we had to turn around to look for another path. Just like in life, sometimes we must try something, get lost, reach a dead end, and try again. A coach can help you speed up the process.
Coaches at Precision Nutrition use the key phrase, “ready, willing, and able.” If a person is not ready, willing, or able to do certain things, not even the best coach with the perfect program and advice will be able to get them to change.
So what are we supposed to DO in order to change? Suffer in silence?
Tools for Understanding Conflicting Messages
As Precision Nutrition coaches, we’re taught the importance of facing discomfort in order to grow. Here are two tools you can use to try to better understand where those conflicting messages are coming from and what they are trying to tell you. Because while our habits start out supporting us, once we outgrow them it is time to change.
Magnuson has something for everyone: sports fields, an off-leash dog park, and wild bird habitat. It also has plenty of areas to explore.
Two Voices In Conversation
This exercise resembles role play with yourself. You can think of the mature, wise, and compassionate voice who has all the answers as your “adult self.” The stuck, confused, frustrated, and perhaps scared voice is your “child self.”
Feel free to give a name to each self, or even think of them in terms of mentor/mentee, teacher/student, wise/novice, or coach/client. Whatever relationship resonates most with you. I have named my 6-year-old gremlin “Gooky”, a smash-up of “great” and “cookie” that I created when I was battling to give up sugar. She is my voice of resistance. And she is doggedly determined to keep things exactly the way they are.
Four years ago I was still baking something every few days. Once I realized how much better I felt without gluten, sugar, and dairy, the change made itself. I was furious about giving up each thing. Now I don’t even notice.
You can write (or type) what each voice says. Or if you prefer talking through problems, set two chairs facing one another. Allow the stuck self to have three minutes to say whatever it likes. Pause for a minute and jot down whatever comes up.
Then switch font or ink color (or chair) and give the wise self a minute to summarize what the confused self has revealed. Think of the wise self as you in fifty years, if you like, looking back at now. For two more minutes, the wise self gets to offer affirmations, love, understanding, and possible solutions. It then asks a question of the stuck self.
Promontory Point at Magnuson Park.
After each voice has had a chance to talk, continue the dialogue until each side has been heard. What did each voice say? What insights did you gain from listening to each voice?
Examine Previous Changes
The second tool is to examine your past and make a list of any large changes you’ve made. Examples might include graduating from college or graduate school, getting a promotion, entering a long-term relationship, starting a family or business, or traveling. Everyone alive is capable of profound change.
The important thing to recognize is that change is scary, but you have within you all the tools you need to do it. What skills come to the surface? Maybe you were really resilient. Perhaps you loved the planning aspect of it. Or it could be that you had a partner help you get through. Write them down as a list of your unique change tools.
The only constant in life is change. We are all capable of change. But it takes examining our own process and what works best to move forward.
Finally, once you have a better understanding of what’s causing your ambivalence and a list of your change tools, reread what you’ve written. If you find yourself using a lot of words like “just” or “but”, you’re facing resistance. Again, normal.
Precision Nutrition has a wonderful piece about Motivational Interviewing that goes into far more detail about ambivalence and resistance. The key point is to recognize that resistance is just as much a part of making a change as ambivalence. You are normal!
If you identify a lot of anger and defensiveness in your dialogue, embrace it. Question it. Be curious about it. And by writing it down you can examine it more closely when you’re not as emotionally charged.
Homemade rice flour tortillas. Delicious and gluten-free. Quite the change from what used to make me congested, inflamed, and ill before. I’ll take it!
Convert Terrified into Ready, Willing, and Able
I mentioned struggling to launch our Total Health track until my husband and I created a list of tiny steps to take to inch forward. Some only took me five minutes. But the more tiny steps I took, the more forward momentum I gained, and the more confident I became.
You, too, can turn terrifying into “ready, willing, and able”. Please share in the comments whatever you’re struggling with. Our readers have plenty of unique experiences. And as part of a change community, we’d love to help.
The only thing I wanted to experience last Friday was the anonymity and peaceful comfort of the rainy urban woods. Ajax and I took our 24th ramble of the year through Ravenna and Cowen Parks. Following a recent dream in which I got hopelessly mired in mud, I’ve come to recognize the necessity of struggle. That doesn’t make it any easier to face discomfort to grow.
Mud, mud, mud everywhere. Not only did Ajax and I have a muddy ramble, but since then I dreamed of getting stuck in the mud. While I don’t fully understand dreams, I do know my subconscious is hard at work at night trying to help the rest of me.
Loss
The past three years have been physically and emotionally challenging. Uncomfortable. Painful. As a trainer familiar with physical challenges, I’ve thrown everything into recovering from a broken right wrist. Now that it’s healed, I have to confront the emotional rollercoaster of midlife career changes, a pseudo-empty nest, and changing family dynamics, all while the world continues to feel angst around COVID.
Ajax enjoys a colorful mural at Cowen Park while helping me to grow past discomfort.
But life is all about struggle and change, right?
That doesn’t mean we have to enjoy it. Or can we?
Pre-pandemic
Prior to March 2020, I was heavily involved in our community. I used to help at Mary’s Place, shelve books at the local elementary school library, lead outings for the Seattle Mountaineers, and volunteer weekly at Woodland Park Zoo, in addition to working 20-30 hours a week at my company. We also traveled internationally every other year.
The pandemic changed everything. I’m sure it has for you, as well. What have you given up? What would you take back, if you could only summon the courage to retrieve it?
Dense clusters of pine cones. Have you hugged a tree recently?
It is no wonder that I’m feeling anxious about two upcoming airline trips. One, solo, will be to visit family in early April. The other will include birding in Arizona with my husband and a few friends, several weeks later.
I can count solo trips I’ve taken in the last three decades on one hand. And we’ve never flown to bird with friends. Both represent new challenges that will push me way outside of my comfort zone.
I found myself looking for the solace of trees, even on a gloomy wet afternoon in March. Was this the dark night of the soul? Did I need to get totally mired in mud in order to move forward?
Patience Around Fear
I know I’m doing challenging emotional, spiritual, and psychological work, but part of me feels like it’ll never be fast enough. Susan Jeffers, in her book, Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway, writes, “Patience means knowing it will happen . . . and giving it time to happen.” Is there something in your life that you know you have to change but wonder if it ever will?
Part of me feels like I’ve already spent plenty of time. But just like grief, which has no limit or expiration, facing fear has no limit or expiration, either. As a good friend recently reminded me, “Be the buffalo.” It would seem that the faster you tackle it, the sooner the discomfort will be over.
But man, sometimes it is JUST. SO. HARD. Sound familiar?
According to Jeffers, “The only way to get rid of the fear of doing something is … to go out and do it.”
The author and Labraheeler Ajax enjoying a rainy ramble in Cowen and Ravenna Parks.
So this spring, I bravely face the future, knowing that I have tremendous support, a capable mind and resilient body, clients and readers who cheer me on, and a message to share.
Don’t just dream it, LIVE IT.
If we rest on our laurels, choosing only what’s comfortable every day, we’re simply existing. And I don’t know about you, but I want to reach the finish line for the second half of my life without any regrets. I don’t want to just coast.
Embrace and Face Discomfort
Things we accomplish easily don’t feel as meaningful or as important as those that we agonize over. In the world of writing, deep in every story comes “the dark night of the soul.” It’s the point at which the hero feels like all is lost. Hope is gone. There’s no point in going forward.
Have you ever felt your time is out? Like the sun is setting on your dreams and you may as well give up? You are not alone.
No way can I become a wellness coach. It’s way too scary. May as well just keep doing what I’ve been doing.
But close on its heels, the other famous storyline whispers in my ear: The heroine can never return.
Pre-COVID life is gone. For good.
All we can do is charge forward into the future.
Something has shifted. I joke with my critique partners that I’m still waiting for my story arc before I write my memoirs. Could this be my arc?
Cliches race through my mind: One step at a time. Rome wasn’t built in a day. If you’re not failing, you’re not trying hard enough. Nobody is perfect. And suddenly, hope returned.
The beauty of trees, their strength, and their stamina keep me grounded and centered. Oh, to be as strong and confident as a tree.
I like to think of myself as courageous, having survived natural childbirth unmedicated and three reductions on my wrist that hurt far worse than the break itself. Launching our new Total Health Coaching track has me terrified. Who do I think I am? But, here we go.
Challenge Yourself To Face Discomfort
Think about the changes you’ve faced in the past three years. Have you resumed most pre-pandemic activities? Have you fallen into a small world of comfort? When was the last time you voluntarily accepted challenges?
How might you challenge yourself to get outside of your comfort zone? Maybe you have a fear of public speaking. Can you find a Toastmasters group or start with a small Zoom workshop? If you are afraid to ask questions, perhaps you can set a goal to ask one question every day. When you find yourself putting up obstacles, or using the phrase, “Yes, but…” can you replace it with the more empowering, “Yes, and…”?
What wonderful thing would you have in your life… if only you could get face discomfort? DO IT!
I challenge you to pick a challenge for this spring. It can be small or big, your choice. My Active Ajax Adventures was a project I knew I’d enjoy, but I wouldn’t call it a challenge. Flying to Arizona and North Carolina are challenges, but I know I can do them.
Launching a new branch of my business? Terrifying. Let’s see how many mistakes I make and what I can learn from it. Who knows, it may be the best thing I ever do.
Following a wonderful ramble with a friend on Friday, I got some upsetting news over the weekend. But with snow in the forecast, I tried not to let it derail me for more than a few days. In this post, I share a few strategies for remembering what matters most so we keep making forward progress, inch by inch, even during the most challenging times.
The Olympic mountains as seen from Edmonds on a clear Friday morning in February right before the snow hit the Pacific Northwest.
Shape Your Environment
Whenever we want to change a habit, the easiest way to do so is to alter our environment to support our goals. For example, if your goal is to reduce systemic inflammation and the habit you want to build is staying hydrated, you might set an action item to drink two liters of water every day. Try filling several water bottles and leaving them everywhere so they’re easy to grab.
Place one at your desk. Keep one in your car. Put several in the refrigerator to chill. Store one in your backpack when you go for a hike or head to the gym for a workout. If you want to make your hydration habit more fun, consider purchasing a “motivational water bottle.” Such gimmicks work because they tap into your playful inner child who WANTS to see the bottle change when it’s empty, even though plain water may not be your favorite.
Ajax enjoys our early rambles as much as I do, even when it’s cold.
Another way to shape your environment is to place sticky notes with “DRINK UP” all around the house to remind you of your goal. Whenever your eyes land on one, find the nearest water bottle and take a sip. You can also set alerts on your phone or watch so that whenever they buzz, you chug. Any other favorite drinking games? Include them!
Create a Rough Schedule
When overwhelm threatened to shut me down, I made a list of things I wanted to finish. I’m aware that my lists are always impossibly long, and I’m working on that. This time, I starred the items I NEEDED to complete. Tasks with set deadlines like client work. Items I’d promised I would do. Things that were important to me in terms of my values and priorities.
Once I narrowed the list down to the nine highest-priority items, I assigned the approximate time I would need to complete each one. Note that times assume I’m paying complete attention, not multitasking.
The brilliant colors reminded me of October, not February.
Assign Time Allotments for What Matters Most
You may have your own unique strategy for making lists. My husband likes to put open boxes or bubbles next to items that he fills when he’s done. My list looked something like this:
Client revision in 15 minutes Due Tuesday
Client summaries for 15 minutes Due Tuesday
Practice 3 songs on the piano for 10 minutes
Complete one online lesson in 20 minutes
Write one assignment for 15 minutes
Work on the landing page for our new website for 30 minutes
Choose 8 pictures for Blog 81 for 20 minutes Due Tuesday
Walk Ajax for 30 minutes
Write, edit, and submit 8 pages to the critique group ??? Due Friday
We created Paradise (a pair of dice) on our front lawn. This was a deliberate, planned sculpture that we failed to make in December during the deep freeze, so we tried again.
Include Wiggle Room
Barring interruptions (like sneaking in a few games on my phone) and adding half an hour for dinner, I realized I could complete most of my tasks. I did the items that were due that day first and gave myself permission to post my blog a day late. As long as I did something to move it forward, I was okay with that.
The creative writing assignment was my “big unknown.” It’s “important (to me) but not urgent.” Knowing my process, however, I wanted to get a draft done so I could let my subconscious work on it overnight. After spending several hours on it in the evening and an hour the next morning, I got it done. That left this blog post.
Sometimes what matters most is having fun. Lounger was a spontaneous “shove some snow against the tree and see what it looks like” creation. Not my best but then again, I didn’t set out to make anything specific. I let the snow tell me what it would be. Sometimes allowing spontaneity is useful.
The takeaway: For me, the simple process of prioritizing items and assigning time stamps helped me to accomplish far more than if I’d only had a vague idea of what I wanted to get done. Write it down. Plan it out. “A failure to plan is a plan to fail” certainly appears to be true.
Get Support for What Matters Most
In addition to shaping your environment, making a list of top priorities, and assigning approximate time values to your tasks, it’s important to find appropriate support. That might be from a coach, a friend, a relative, an accountability partner, or even a support animal. My monthly walk-and-talks with a writing friend remind me to continue to expand my world, not only with Ajax but also with the people who are most important to me.
The American robin is so common that we don’t take them for granted. When was the last time you studied a simple bird in brilliant light? Against a clear blue winter sky, the red breast of this robin on top of a tree really popped.
Do you have any helpful tips for readers about shaping your environment to support your goals? How about creative strategies around keeping lists? Share them in the comments so we can all learn.
Do you have specific areas in your life where things are going great and others where you feel stuck? Me too. On today’s ramble with Ajax, I got caught in hail and started thinking about Mother Nature mirroring the indecision swirling inside of me. This week’s post boils down to a single word to keep you moving forward: the power of yet.
Mt. Baker from what I call the “Cedar Park stairs” in north Seattle on a beautiful evening in February. If you have a summit (read: goal) you are striving for, keep at it. The only way you won’t reach it is if you quit. Therein lies the power of yet.
How to Use Yet Instead of Now
This simple three-letter word carries enormous weight. Especially if you struggle with a fixed mindset. Where I suffer from a fixed mindset is around marketing and technology. While I take baby steps forward, sometimes I want to give up. Sound familiar?
If you frequently catch yourself using phrases such as, “I can’t do this,” “I’ll never figure this out,” or “it’s impossible,” stop thinking of now. Rewrite your statement using the word yet and see what happens to your physiology, mental outlook, and overall mood.
Whitehorse and Three Fingers as seen from northeast Seattle on a clear February evening.
Carol Dweck’s Ted Talk
In her ten-minute Ted Talk, Carol Dweck introduces the power of yet in her research on mindsets. She says that by using the word yet instead of now, we signal to our brains that whatever we’re struggling with is worth working for. Fortunately, we can build a growth mindset just like we can develop strong legs or biceps.
Ramble Power
I originally created my ramble project with Ajax to explore mindfulness, learn to be more fully present, and experience joy in tiny moments. Add to that my ongoing coursework with Precision Nutrition and I have added to my Big Why: I want to grow a growth mindset and rewrite my personal narrative to reflect more positivity and optimism.
A tall order that’s difficult to quantify — not like “eat three servings of veggies” or “walk ten thousand steps a day.” But it’s what I’m trying to wrap my head around. One ramble at a time.
Decorative grass on the way back from the Jackson Park Perimeter trail.
Changing at Glacier Speed
Recent rambles have provided me with insights into my community as well as ample reflection time. Sometimes I joke that I move at “glacier speed.” And I’m referring not to hiking, but to change.
I appreciate the value in challenges, mistakes, and putting myself in uncomfortable situations to grow. But I do so very slowly. Until one day, like a glacier dam releasing a powerful torrent of water, I take off and am unstoppable. It just hasn’t happened. Yet. See how I did that?
One of three colorful murals outside the Cedar Park Elementary School.
Fortunately, I love my ramble project. Ajax and I have been on 22 rambles and it’s not yet March. For me, physical goals are familiar and comfortable. I’ve been creating physical programs for clients for nearly 25 years. But if I could use strengths in a familiar area to help me grow in areas of weakness, would that work?
The play structure at Albert Davis Park is currently closed due to fire damage.
Rambles A-I
Highlights from our most recent adventures include:
Albert Davis Park Located near the Lake City Library, this small community park includes a mural, benches, and a play structure that is currently closed due to fire damage.
Bitter Lake Reservoir Open Space has an exercise course, a wonderful play structure, and a community garden. Not a big fan of all the dog feces.
Ajax sniffs at the base of what I call the “Cedar Park stairs” at the corner of 135th NE and NE 42nd in Seattle.
*Cedar Park Two blocks east of the school, we found fantastic views of Mt. Baker (10,786′), Whitehorse Mountain (6841′), and Three Fingers (6858′) to the north. I stumbled across the 176 stairs one afternoon when I didn’t have my camera, so on another clear evening, we returned for some breathtaking photos of the mountains.
Rambles J-Z
Jackson Park Perimeter Trail 2.2 miles of trail circle the Jackson Park Golf Course in the Thornton Creek Watershed. Unfortunately, a contingent of homeless folks has made sections of the trail feel trashy and unsafe. By staying on the street and sidewalk north and east of the park, you can avoid the worst of the garbage. The city hasn’t found a solution to keep it natural and clean. Yet.
On a recent ramble around the Jackson Park Perimeter trail, I shot a picture of my shadow and the light-rail construction. I continue to be amazed by how beautiful the golf course is while the surrounding area has become a garbage dump.
*Llandover WoodsGreenspace A remarkably dense, quiet, wooded area with lovely birdsong. It includes a narrow view of the Olympic Mountains above some stairs on what’s referred to as the “south loop.”
South Woods Park Just south of Shorecrest High School. We took refuge from today’s hail until it turned to rain.
Llandover Woods at noon on a beautiful winter weekday.
Power of Yet in the Licorice Fern Natural Area
Of all the recent rambles 15-22, our Licorice Fern Natural Area outing impressed me the most. We headed down a dead-end street to explore and spotted a trailhead.
The Licorice Fern Natural Area starts off with nicely maintained boardwalks. Yay, a new area to explore!
The neighborhood community created a website for the area, last updated in 2019. From the looks of it, that’s probably when they last maintained the trail.
A New Challenge
Something about the overgrown nature of the area made me grin. I have never gotten as disoriented inside the Seattle city limits as I did on those game trails. Awesome! Until I nearly lost one of my shoes to the slurping mud.
We finally bushwhacked upslope and found ourselves in an alley. I felt a tiny smidgen of what contestants on the History channel’s series, Alone, must feel when they arrive in the middle of nowhere to survive by themselves for as long as they can.
The trail quickly deteriorated until it dead-ended at a collapsed bridge. The game trails didn’t lead anywhere and we finally headed straight up.
Return to the Power of Yet
And so, we return once again to where we started: with the single word yet. I entered the natural area expecting one thing and got something else. We got completely turned around. And when we emerged, we’d been scraped by blackberry vines, Ajax was coated in mud, and I’d gotten utterly confused. But I never thought, “I can’t.” Could I use “Licorice Fern” as a metaphor for change?
Change means we become different people. These rambles remind me of how confident I am in some areas of my life, such as photography, writing, physical movement, and coaching. I am not as confident in others, such as parenting a teen, big life changes, marketing, and technology. Yet.
The Licorice Fern area will serve as my metaphor for change. The power of yet is strong.
I remind myself that I am and always will be a work in progress. I can embrace opportunities for growth and learning. Just like I dove into Licorice Fern without knowing anything about it. I can embrace change, and work to change yet into now.
What is your experience with fixed and growth mindsets? If you have insights that you’d like to share about your experience with the word yet please share them in the comments so we can all learn.
I won’t lie: last week challenged me in unexpected ways. I have been trying to move forward since my daughter started college six months ago. Since she’s merely fifteen minutes away, I feel like I take five steps forward only to retreat two steps back whenever she comes home. This weekend I took a leap of faith and planned an outing with a friend before I knew my daughter’s plans. I am determined to expand life one outing at a time.
In an attempt to expand life, I visit thousands of snow geese and trumpeter swans in the Skagit Valley at dawn with the Olympic Mountains in the background.
The Skagit Valley Birding Invitation
Five of the things I love the most include movement, photography, wildlife, helping, and writing. Put them all together and bingo, a blog is born. I also love my family, and since my daughter comes home on weekends, I feel obligated to stick around whenever she visits. A friend invited me to bird with her in the Skagit Valley an hour north of Seattle. We’re gaining more birding practice for an upcoming trip with friends to Arizona in April. But when she mentioned wanting to bird all day, I gulped.
This would be the first all-day trip without my husband, daughter, or dog in more than three years. And on a weekend when my daughter was visiting. In November, my husband and I took eight days to bird in southeast Texas. So it’s not like I haven’t been away from her for an extended time. But something about this invitation challenged me in a new way. This was another step toward releasing the apron strings. Why is it so hard?
Expand Life: Enjoy a Skagit Sunrise
At 6:30 my friend promptly arrived and I sneaked out the front door, leaving my sleeping husband and daughter and a very unhappy dog. Ajax knows what it means when I put on my hiking togs, and he is always eager to join me. Not this time. I later learned that he complained loudly for quite a while after I left, waking up the household.
The view from the Fir Island Farm Estuary in the Skagit at sunrise, with a pair of bald eagles on the snag toward the left.
I felt quite emotional on the drive north. Shouldn’t I be the proper hostess for my daughter? Shouldn’t I be there to take her back to campus? Fortunately, I was able to talk through my difficulties with my friend. By the time we reached our first stop, I had a clear head and buoyed spirit. At the Fir Island Farm Estuary, the sunrise was spectacular. Snow geese, trumpeter swans, and waterfowl were plentiful, and people were few. I focused on my surroundings as Mother Nature helped me heal.
Contributing to Science on Ebird.org
One of several bright moments from the all-day birding trip was contributing to science. When I go with my friend or my husband, I let them record our bird sightings and report them on Ebird.org. This wonderful website is affiliated with Cornell University. Many thousands of bird enthusiasts can keep track of their observations online. Researchers and other birders can then track and learn where target birds are.
A yellow-headed blackbird (left) joins a red-winged blackbird (top) and house sparrow (right in flight) at a local feeder.
On this trip, we made a brief stop at a field where red-winged blackbirds, European starlings, and Brewer’s blackbirds were feeding. Through my 100-400 mm camera lens, I noticed a bird with a yellow head and chest. Definitely not one of the other three species. My friend immediately identified it as a yellow-headed blackbird, a bird I’d seen before, but a rarity for this time of year and location. We followed the YHBB (pictured left) to a nearby feeder where it joined house sparrows and red-winged blackbirds to enjoy breakfast. Score! I had proof of the rarity in the photos.
Expand Life: Watch Short-Eared Owls In Flight
Another memorable moment occurred in the early afternoon when we arrived at the Skagit destination called the “East 90.” The main road takes a sharp right turn, and it lies east of another sharp right known as “West 90.” Flying low over the field were at least half a dozen short-eared owls, one of my target birds for the day.
These little guys are open-country hunters, one of the few that can be spotted foraging during the late afternoon. My friend explained that she likes to plan birding outings with newer birders so that there’s a highlight toward the end. That way she’ll have company in the future. I smiled. That sounded like what coaches do in training sessions: we end on a high note.
Short-eared owl on farmland.
A short-eared owl hunts for supper.
Memorable Moments
On our return drive to Seattle, I asked my friend a question that I grew up hearing often: what was your best or favorite moment? My husband and daughter hate questions like that. This time, I used her answer as a teachable moment. I rephrased my question: were there any memorable or takeaway moments from the day that stood out to her?
The Takeaway Challenge
I proceeded to mention my three to her: the spectacular sunrise, spotting the yellow-headed blackbird rarity, and watching the short-eared owls forage.
Something my parents recently mentioned came to me. It’s called their “penny jar project.” It’s an opportunity to expand their world post-COVID. Every time they explore a new neighborhood or try something outside their comfort zone, they add a penny to the jar. (To account for inflation I might suggest a “dollar jar…”) Once you accumulate enough money, you can put it toward something you enjoy to celebrate your courage.
How might you gamify your own challenges to encourage your success? I took on a playful challenge in January to create the Active Ajax Adventures project. I created my blog to have something positive come out of COVID time. And the birding trip coming up in April is helping me expand my world by taking birding trips to practice and prepare.
Another favorite bird, the Great Blue Heron.
While agreeing to go on this weekend trip was a challenge for me, I definitely made the right decision. I have a life apart from my daughter, and it’s okay — no, necessary — to explore outside one’s comfort zone. It helps her, as well, to know that we are all trying new things, taking on new challenges, and growing.
If you have a new challenge you’re facing in 2023 and would like life coaching assistance, feel free to reach out to me at www.bodyresults.com or comment below. I’d love to help!
A well-known Buddhist saying goes, “When the student is ready, the teacher appears.” I must be on the edge of great change because teachers have been showing up everywhere during the past month. Instead of judging myself harshly, and seeing less-than-perfect as a failure, I’ve embraced the idea that I will always be a work in progress. No more pressure. Join me for photos from a Tiger Mountain ramble in January as we explore how to nudge the notch to reach your target.
Mt. Rainier on January 26 seen from W. Tiger 1. For much of the morning, we hiked in fog or clouds. W. Tiger 3 had a thin layer of snow that only increased as we continued to W. Tiger 2 and 1.
Replace Binary Thinking with Nudge the Notch
In the past, I have had a tendency to see things as black or white, success or failure. Precision Nutrition teaches coaches to encourage clients to move along a continuum. This means that in order to get someone who drinks a ton of coffee, juice, or soda to switch to 64 ounces of water a day, the best way to get them to change is to encourage them to do one notch better.
Maybe they could move from a “1” (no water) to a “2” (eight ounces of water a day) by adding a bottle of mineral water to their workout. Or replacing one daily soda or coffee with eight ounces of water. Perhaps adding sliced lemon or lime to a water bottle for flavor will make it more palatable.
The westward view of the Olympic Mountains above a sea of clouds, seen from West Tiger 1.
Nudge the Notch Examples
If you struggle to eat vegetables, are there any that you enjoy? Can you aim for one serving a day, such as tomato slices on a burger, diced and added to a salad, or served on the side of an omelet? If you are totally swamped at work and can’t find a minute to exercise, can you put on music and dance while doing house chores on the weekend? Maybe you could commit to ditching social media once a week to take a ten-minute walk at lunch. And if you are trying to write a book but life keeps getting in the way, could you set an alarm for a five-minute sprint to scribble a paragraph or two?
Halo effect on West Tiger 1. The sun was low behind me as I looked north into the forest on the top of Tiger Mountain. We can view logging as horrid, or we can enjoy the remaining beauty. How will you nudge the notch today?
One Percent Better
This idea of moving along a continuum has been expressed in other ways. James Clear, the author of Atomic Habits, suggests doing 1% bettereach day. If you start with a goal of 5000 steps a day and add 50 steps (1%) every day, eventually you’ll reach the optimal 10,000 daily steps without having suffered any pain, strain, or struggle. You will have a far easier time succeeding on this type of program than if you never find a way to leave the office, or worse, label your goal as “too hard” and abandon it before you ever try.
Build Your Change Muscles
The beauty in using continuum and 1% thinking is “sneaking up on your goal.” Such thinking involves taking tiny chances. Trying small new things. Learning from tolerable mistakes. Taking one baby step at a time. These are ways to build those change muscles so you can do bigger and better things. My Active Ajax Adventures project is a form of continuum thinking. When I am unable to get out to the mountains every week, AAA gives me another way to focus on my six intentions. It has removed any lingering “should” thoughts so I no longer feel guilty if I can’t spare a day for a hike. Win!
A new bench at the summit of W. Tiger 1 near the Hiker’s Hut. Just to the left of the hut is a new fence that bars access to a newly decommissioned trail. Instead, the Poo Top Trail diverts hikers south around W. Tiger 1.
Continuum Project
So where have we rambled the last two weeks? In addition to Tiger Mountain, our project has taken me to local parks that include:
I continue to appreciate the importance of urban greenspaces, from the tiny 1-acre Little Brook Park set among multi-family apartments, to the forested Paramount Open Space with a small maze of trails. It’s hard to believe that the wonderful suburban area where we live was once covered with green spaces. I am so grateful to the cities for keeping these recreational spaces intact.
One of the strangest finds at Paramount Open Space – trees growing up through an old abandoned wheeled machine of some sort.
Another strange find that made me smile was a decorated bird standing on a log on one of the many maze-like trails at Paramount Open Space.
Nudge the Notch in Journaling
The final example of “nudge the notch” I will share is journal writing. As an avid diarist for over four decades, I’d love to introduce folks to journal writing. This January, I joined the International Association for Journal Writing in hopes that I could explore ways to incorporate journaling into my Body Results coaching practice. Fortunately, several clients are interested in exploring journal writing with me. Win!
I am a proud member of the IAJW.org. If you or someone you know are interested in learning more about journaling to get unstuck, I am more than happy to share what I know!
Find Your “One Notch Better”
Life contains infinite shades of gray. You are not “good” or “bad” for eating foods that disagree with you. You have simply made less-than-optimal choices. And you are not a failure if you don’t consistently drink 8 eight-ounce glasses of water a day. By recognizing where we’re making incremental, “one notch better” progress, we can celebrate our successes, and do more of the good and less of the suck.
Here’s my visual record of blogging in January, including a special appearance by my first guest blogger.
Takeaway Challenge:
Think of a habit you want to change. What might ONE NOTCH BETTER look like for you? The goal here is to overcome inertia by taking that first step. Once you get momentum behind you and start building a new habit, it gets easier.
If you like, try what I call “gamifying” your intention. Use a playful approach to turn it into a game, akin to my Active Ajax Adventures. Embrace your inner child! I use stickers for anything I need to build momentum behind. Such as blogging at least one day a week. Then share in the comments a short report of what you want to do one notch better in February.
By Guest Blogger Gerard Bonfils My June 2022 plan (note from the editor: Gerard is a MASTER planner!) was to hike 280 miles on the Pacific Crest Trail in northern California. I started training in late 2021 so that I would begin my trek in peak form. When not training, I spent hours learning everything about my route, preparing resupply packages with food and trail essentials, reading comments previous hikers had left about this trek, and plotting my daily mileage and potential camping spots. I felt great about my plan. Then it completely fell apart before I even set foot on the trail… and I reaped the rewards of a failed perfect plan.
Preparing resupply boxes to be shipped by General Delivery to local post offices, or stores/motels along the way. These boxes are in fact for another long hike I would take later that year. For the June 22 hike, I only used half of the boxes I had prepared.
In Praise of Play-Doh and Legos
I approached planning the wrong way or, at least, in too narrow a way. After a series of pre-hike injuries, unusually late snowfall, forecasted storms, and forest closures, I could not execute my plan the way I initially built it. That was a blessing. I traded Excel for imaginary Play-Doh and Legos and made a “plan” I could, at any time, squish here, stretch there, remove blocks from, and then put back in a different way.
This new plan captured Intentions instead of laying down a rigid play-by-play of the whole 280 miles. Where I had previously focused on “crossing the finish line on D day”, I now focused on the experiences I wanted to have along the way: be fully aware while in nature, crave surprises, play with the elements, roam the land, cultivate self-sufficiency, and so on.
Heading north on the Hat Creek Rim, a stretch of 30+ miles without natural water sources. A local rancher generously built and regularly resupplies a water tank for the hikers on this section. No wonder such souls are called “Trail angels.”
A Cornucopia of Summits
My initial plan had only one finish line: complete the 280 miles, walking a 3-foot-wide trail. No wiggle room! With my new organic and flexible plan, I suddenly discovered many hidden personal summits. Showing up at the trailhead, my injuries not fully healed, was a summit. Completing 46 miles to my first resupply in the first 2 days was another. Successfully treating an impressive blister on day 3, a third. They kept growing.
Continuing my hike with a storm in the forecast. Getting lost and then found through a snowfield in the storm. Watching a bear cub run downslope toward its Mom. Keeping mostly warm and dry through rainstorms. “Running into” another hiker and walking a whole day together … more summits, or GAINS, than I could have dreamed of. So much to enjoy by LIVING the trail, not just FINISHING the trail.
Just a few feet off the trail, the resident wildlife is enjoying some people-watching in the form of an intermittent flow of huffing and puffing hikers. Note: Mom was close by and eyeing me with suspicion and a bit of fighting spirit in her pupils.
Failed Perfect Plan: Smiling at Misfortunes
Blisters, storms, and getting lost: no, not everything felt like a blissful “walk in the park”. I even aborted my hike at mile 130 with fresh and debilitating injuries. Yet, even “in the moment”, I strove to embrace adversity with a smile. My first impulse was always something resembling the classic “Oh NO, why ME?”. Only when I made a habit of deliberately smiling or chuckling at the unwelcome turn of events did my luck change.
This little bubble of a tent may seem peaceful and reasonably cozy. Adding the soundtrack of the howling wind and the constant downpour on my refuge’s canopy would make this feel a whole lot different.
Of course, my luck did NOT truly change, but my ability to gracefully accept the “bad hand” I was given greatly improved; I traded frustration for a playful spirit (challenge accepted, Lady Fate!) and cool-headed actions. Suddenly, as if by pure magic, I discovered ways around or through my woes. It only took a freeze frame, the very moment something went sideways, followed by a light-hearted assessment of the new reality.
After two and a half days of rain, the sun finally goes into drying duty. This is also a great time to sit down, munch on snacks, and release achy feet from their lugged prison, and rejoice at my good luck.
The Highest Summit
None of the personal “summits” I tagged on that hike felt as rewarding as the first one: at the trailhead, my wife had taken a few pictures before driving 350 miles back home; I had started walking alone with no certainties about the journey forward: will my injuries flare and force me to give up? Will I reach 280 miles? Will I become hypothermic in the storm?
Little did I know, at the time, that I had already succeeded: I SHOWED UP! I had given it a truly honest “shot”. In the words of C. Bradford: “There is no failure except in no longer trying”. I was TRYING. And I would keep trying through that stormy June until it was no longer wise or safe to do so.
Had I not shown up, I would never have walked through this magic Christmas Tree Forest and received the gift of the last sunny spot Mother Nature offered me before letting the big faucet in the sky run unchecked for more than two days.
Failed Perfect Plan: Facing the Gap
After 130 miles, at the bottom of a 10-mile downhill, my ankles both simultaneously cried “Uncle!” This being a resupply stop anyway, I got a motel room and retired for the night. In the morning, both ankles had put on quite a bit of weight and raucously protested when I tried to walk. I had failed!
Yes, the thought quickly broke into the antechamber of my mind. I immediately pushed it away. I had gone as far as was reasonable, I saw wonders on the way, I found my way through many challenges, I met a new friend… This WAS a true success, and I felt happy and at peace.
As I headed for what would be the last stretch of my hike, Mt. Shasta greeted me to the north. I spent the next two days at its base. The driver I hitched a ride with informed me that people died on the mountain the final night I had curled up in my tent waiting for the storm to pass — a reminder of what matters most.
Creating More Joy from a Premature End
At a standstill in a small northern California town for two days, unable to walk for long, I decided to explore the neighborhood in short bursts. I spent my time sitting in a café and answering questions from locals curious about the disheveled hiker; exploring the library for a few hours; getting a much-needed massage; and roaming the main street to look at storefronts or sit on a low wall for a while.
I eventually discovered a wonderful small park at the foot of Mt Shasta and tacked on another mile and a quarter to my trek… limping along slowly and stopping at every bench on the way. None of this was in my initial grand plan; all of it is now a joyful memory. All I needed to do for this trek was change the stories I told myself about what matters.
A failed perfect plan resulted in this leisurely and wobbly stroll through verdant Sisson Meadow Park as I nursed my swollen ankles and waited for my crew (aka my very supportive wife) to rescue me and bring me back home to start my full recovery. I had six weeks left before starting another trek, this time in Washington State. This time, I would reach the 280 miles mark.
Editor’s note: I’ve been impressed by the thoughtful comments posted by Gerard Bonfils since we met on the Kendall Katwalk summer of 2021. I asked if he would like to share an honorary Guest Blog, and he graciously accepted the challenge. He describes his adventures in California on the Pacific Crest Trail during June, 2022, even tying in wisdom from previous blog posts. I hope readers enjoyed it as much as I did! –C. Schurman
Ajax and I recently visited a nearby neighborhood pea patch. I thought about all the effort it takes to cultivate a successful garden. Akin to what it takes to change something about ourselves. As I reflected on Brene Brown’s comments about how “We’re all doing the best we can,” my mindset started to shift. What happens when we cultivate the Five Ps: Patience, Practice, Paying Attention, Play, and Purpose?
We can use the gardening analogy on ourselves: by nurturing ourselves using the five P’s, we can cultivate hope, health, and happiness.
Cultivate Patience
Anything worth doing takes time and patience. We cannot prepare for an active adventure, raise a child, write a book, or create a new business overnight. Likewise, I cannot expect to make a smooth transition from eighteen years of parenting to an empty nest in a few months. Even though that’s what I feel shouldhappen. (Oh, that cursed word!)
Reframing Shift
In a Precision Nutrition course I’m taking called SSR: Sleep, Stress Management, and Recovery, I’m learning about reframing failures and mistakes as important learning opportunities. What if we looked at daunting obstacles as challenges rather than roadblocks? Can we forgive ourselves for triggering episodes that cause guilt or shame? What would it feel like to think of them as the best we could do given the tools we had at the time? Instead of avoiding something because we’re afraid, can we embrace it as a way to grow, learn, and challenge ourselves?
The view from Seahurst lakefront park on Wednesday, January 18, 2023. I am using Active Ajax Adventures to help cultivate a new sense of balance.
The SSR course explains that when the demands of any obstacle outweigh the resources available to us, we get mired in “fight, flight, or freeze” and become stuck. But if we find a way to use all of the internal and external resources we have (including adequate sleep and the five P’s) we can better cope with the demands and move forward.
Takeaway: Glaciers are mighty forces, but the work they do is not inherently obvious until later. Likewise, patience will take us miles beyond frustration. We can actively work to cultivate patience on a daily basis, much like we would brush our teeth, exercise, or eat vegetables. Let’s quit “shoulding” ourselves so we can move forward with patience and grace.
Practice in Seahurst Park
Last week, I got some practice with patience. Ajax and I visited the Seahurst Ed Munro Park, also known as “the jewel of Burien.” It is a saltwater beach on Puget Sound with 3.5 miles of lovely hiking trails through beautiful forests.
As we explored the waterfront on a breezy, chilly, overcast day, I found myself thinking of my daughter. This triggered anxiety, which caused me to become impatient with Ajax, who loves to sniff everything. The whole point of these rambles is to connect with him, not yank him along beside me.
Ajax enjoys a wooded trail in Seahurst Park.
For some unknown reason, the sound of the surf jarred me. But as soon as we found a dirt path that led deep into the woods, my mood improved. I recognized the familiar sound of birdsong. My breathing and heart rate slowed. Ajax loves the woods and the beach equally, as long as he’s with me. However, I’ve learned that I prefer the peaceful beauty and solitude of moss-covered trees.
Takeaway: Practice listening to your body and mind. They ask for what they need. And if you are not in a position to give it to yourself, make a point of setting aside time at lunch, in the evening, or on the weekend to practice.
Pay Attention in Northacres Park
In addition to frequent practice, it helps to pay attention, a practice known as mindfulness. On a recent sunny walk to the Jackson Park Golf Course, I spotted a dog that Ajax doesn’t like. Instead of risking confrontation, we headed toward Northacres Park. But it meant crossing busy Interstate 5, something we don’t do on foot.
Once we reached the off-leash area, I could still hear the din of cars racing by on the freeway a hundred yards away. I could see varied thrushes, robins, and woodpeckers hopping about. But I couldn’t hear them until we left the park and got half a mile away from the freeway. Once I heard chickadees and towhees singing, I felt my jaw unclench. I could once again observe my surroundings and enjoy the peaceful sounds around me.
Ajax plays with a Golden Retriever at the Northacres off-leash dog park. Bigger dogs sometimes intimidate him; not today!
Takeaway: If you feel stuck, pay attention to where in your body you experience it. Is it in your throat? Your muscles? Or your mental faculties? Do you feel dull or sluggish when you’re usually quick and sharp? I think, create, and operate more efficiently with calm, quiet, or natural sounds. As Debbie Tung points out in her graphic novels about being an introvert, working in a large office would make it difficult to be productive.
Cultivate Play in Magnuson Park
This weekend I spent a few hours birding with a friend, without Ajax. As much as I adore our rambles, certain activities go better without him. Four of them include leading field trips, volunteering, scrambling, and birding.
Our goal was to enjoy each other’s company, but we had one target bird in mind: the Bohemian Waxwing, irregularly seen on the west coast. We detected 42 different bird species during the morning outing, including a single Bohemian in a flock of Cedar Waxwings.
Waxwings in a hawthorn at Magnuson Park. Bohemian (upper left) has more red on the face and under the tail, whereas cedars (lower right two) are more yellowish.
Whenever I feel stuck, getting outside almost always helps. Whether it is the fresh air, a change of scenery, movement, or distraction, I’m not sure. Maybe all of the above. Watching birds forage for food, preen, or flap in puddles has a calming effect on me. Looking up at a huge cedar or Douglas fir does the same thing. If you find yourself spending more time on social media or YouTube than you’d like, grab your shoes and go outside. You might find yourself making headway afterward.
Takeaway: When parenting a college student, I’m learning the importance of keeping track of my own needs. We’d assumed that since our daughter’s roommate was going away for the weekend, she’d stay on campus. I made plans with a friend and I refused to break that commitment. The consequence of our daughter not providing enough notice means she might not get exactly what she wants. Hopefully, if it happens often enough it will teach her to change her habits.
Pull It All Together with Purpose
If we still feel stuck after trying our best to be patient, practice new skills, pay attention, and play, the final “P” is to remind ourselves of our purpose, or our why. We can set our intentions for the current obstacle, even if that is to struggle with grace and presence of mind. Or to ask for help.
This week I have been facing technology issues head-on, practicing breathwork, and allowing myself multiple chances to make mistakes and learn from them. I figure the more I goof on smaller things that don’t matter as much, the more skilled I’ll become for when it does matter. I could set an intention to be lighthearted and playful the next time I mess up, or set the goal of figuring out what it might teach me.
Bundled up for a ramble through Seahurst Park. I prefer the peacefulness of walking among moss-covered trees, especially if I can enjoy birdsong.
Takeaway: I’ve never dealt with an empty nest before. I’m going to make a lot of mistakes. If we can remember that we are not our mistakes, we simply make mistakes, then we can use them as our teachers. I know from the past year that I have physical resilience in spades. Now it’s time to cultivate mental resilience.
As always if something in this post resonates with you and helps you get unstuck in some way, I’d love to read about it in the comments. Joyward!
At the start of each new year, it’s tempting to make sweeping changes around work, home, relationships, food, and movement. Instead of tackling everything in your life that needs changing, start with one. Then watch the ripple effect as it impacts other areas of your life. My Ajax ramble project is doing exactly that.
A recent Active Ajax Adventure took my whole family to Meadowbrook on a sunny January afternoon. We even saw nineteen bird species!
Acting On An Intention
You may recall that my intention for 2023 is to have 52 unique Active Ajax Adventures this year. So far we have already visited eight unique parks in January. But what’s interesting about our experiment is noticing how making progress on one goal impacts others. What if you tried the same thing: setting an intention in one area and seeing what changes in other areas of your life?
My recent rambles with Ajax have taken me through the following parks:
Twin Ponds Park, a wooded trail with ducks and massive cedars in Shoreline
Meadowbrook Pond, a stormwater detention and flood-control facility in Seattle
Pinehurst Playground, a small area for kids with play fields and playground equipment
Pinehurst Pocket Park, a tiny neighborhood green space with picnic tables and a Little Free Library across the street
Ajax on our recent Meadowbrook Pond ramble. A ripple effect from our rambles is finding more varied walks every single day.
Recent Rambles
So far, Ajax and I have logged 9 hours of “adventure time” on park walks ranging from 15-109 minutes. Seven we did by ourselves; the other we did with my husband and daughter. Weather conditions were sunny for two of them; the others were overcast or rainy.
Rainy Roanoke
Perhaps the most surprising ramble was following a mid-week Physical Therapy appointment. I’d intended to take Ajax with me to the arboretum, but I decided to go there someday that isn’t so rainy. Instead, we pulled over at the corner of Roanoke and tenth, parked directly across from U. W.’s Oceanography department, and wandered around in a hilly, scenic neighborhood I’d never visited before. Seeing Thomas G. Thompson, the UW’s research vessel, brought back memories of graduate school days.
The Thomas G. Thompson, a research ship affiliated with the University of Washington, sits across Portage Bay in front of the Oceanography building.
I have always considered myself to be a fair-weather adventurer. This ramble project is teaching me the value of going out in all weather, including downpours. I am discovering local sets of stairs; 80 steps lead up from Queen City Yacht Club to Roanoke Park. And we stumbled upon a downed Heritage Tree, a European white elm, which must have been destroyed in a recent wind or snowstorm as it still had yellow police tape around it.
Roanoke stairs, all 80 of them, lead up the hill from Queen City Yacht Club.
A downed Heritage Tree in Roanoke Park.
Twin Ponds Park
Twin Ponds Park sits halfway between our house and a Shoreline grocery store I visit on occasion. On days when I’m pressed for time, I’ll take Ajax with me for a little outdoor stroll before I stop at Town and Country. Two of my favorite things about Twin Ponds are the enormous old-growth cedars such as the one pictured below, and winter waterfowl such as wood ducks, buffleheads, wigeons, and mallards.
Enormous cedars and waterfowl are fun to enjoy in winter at Twin Ponds.
Pinehurst Playfield
Our Pinehurst ramble was a bit of an accident. It started with a library walk and then, to take advantage of the fact that it was not rainy, I extended it to the area west of the neighborhood we visited on our Seven Libraries Ramble. Only, we overshot our objective and had to pick up this playfield to make the ramble count toward our 52. Cheating? Hey, the only rules for this project are the ones I make up for myself! The park itself is pretty ordinary, but I find the houses around it fascinating.
A metal rhino sculpture in the Pinehurst Playfield neighborhood made me think of my 8 years as a Zoo volunteer.
Meadowbrook Pond
The highlight of the first 15% of the project was a Saturday afternoon stroll with my dog, husband, and daughter around Meadowbrook Pond. The takeaway from that adventure was to bring a pair of binoculars as the season advances so I can watch for unusual birds. I also really liked having a pair of youthful eyes along with us. Our daughter spotted a Wilson’s snipe, a shorebird I’m not sure we would have seen otherwise. Bonus: we got our kiddo away from her screens!
Ajax carefully avoided the metal grating by the duck ponds.
Ripple Effect: Ramble Benefits
The biggest takeaway from these earliest rambles was observing what happens to my attention. When I am in a familiar neighborhood, I reflect on everyday problems. But in a new area, I focus completely on what’s around me. I’m also discovering:
Paying more attention during our rambles is carrying over to routine walks with Ajax. Now, we go on different routes every time we walk. I hadn’t realized how limited I’d become. How much of our lives do we exist on autopilot? If we don’t remember much about our everyday lives, what can we do to be more present and less numb?
On our walks and rambles, I’m noticing remodeled or renovated houses; homes painted unusual colors; interesting yard decorations; and landscaping changed since the last time we walked these streets.
Finally, I’m experimenting with setting intentions for each walk. Perhaps I pose a question to the multiverse and mull it over. Or, I take a photography prompt and look for multiple possibilities for my photography. What if we set an intention for every outing? How much more mindful and purposeful we could become!
A family adventure to Meadowbrook Pond, complete with binoculars and 19 bird species.
Biggest Ripple Effect? More Joy
The biggest ripple effect I’m experiencing from three weeks of rambling is … more joy in all areas of my life! I love being outside, and visiting new and different places with Ajax is doing exactly as I’d hoped. It’s allowing me to optimize the following:
Appreciate beauty
Connect deeply
Move frequently
Create abundantly
Improve lovingly
Challenge gently
And while our rambles have satisfied my desire and need to be outside, I very much look forward to returning to the mountains soon. If you have noticed any ripple effect from changing a habit in one area and seeing it carry over into others, share that in the comments. I love hearing from readers and I respond to each valid comment.
During this week’s rambles through Hamlin, Roanoke, and Twin Ponds Parks, I found myself pondering creativity. Where do new ideas and interests come from? I reflected on my family’s visits to the Alaska and Washington State Fairs last September. My husband, my daughter, and I all got a very different creativity boost. To cultivate your own creativity, consider visiting an awesome state fair.
If you’re looking for awesome creative inspiration, consider visiting the arts and crafts or hobby hall at state fairs.
Alaska State Fair
When we found out that the Alaska State Fair in Palmer was in full swing during our visit to Anchorage and its environs, we decided we could visit both it and the Washington State Fair when we returned to Seattle. What a great way to compare and contrast our visits two weeks apart.
Despite Alaska being the largest state in the country, the state’s largest fair sits on 40 acres in Palmer, AK, and draws 100,000 visitors every summer. Washington State Fairgrounds, by contrast, covers 160 acres and attracts over a million guests. Attendance at the Texas State Fair (the biggest fair in the US) boasts over 2.5 million people. While such stats are interesting, I prefer to consider the exhibits and entertainment at each.
A 4-H contestant shows his steer. We were particularly interested in the tennis ball toppers on the steer’s horns.
Excellent Exhibits
Alaska State Fair boasts some of the most enormous vegetables I’ve ever seen. Alaskans must put long days of summer sunlight to good use. The award-winning pumpkin in 2022 weighed a whopping 2,147 pounds. And I couldn’t even begin to guess what the gigantic Puffball weighed. It looked a bit like marshmallow fluff that had been sitting out for too long.
This award-winning pumpkin weighed a whopping 2,147 pounds.
A giant puffball of unknown weight.
We also enjoyed looking for seven “monster displays” made from flowers and shrubs. The fairgrounds perch between some of the most beautiful mountains in the world. Sure, you can see Mt. Rainier (14,411 feet) from Puyallup, WA on a good day. But compared to the Alaska mountain ranges, our Cascades seem to resemble the “mountainettes” of Asheville, NC where my folks live.
One of seven greenery “Monsters” families could look for.
Stunning Alaska mountains in September. I simply must return.
A Day of Entertainment
In addition to great exhibits, we enjoyed no end of entertainment. The last time I’d watched a live Lumberjack show was over a decade ago in Vancouver, BC. While the jokes felt a bit tiresome, the competitors demonstrated remarkable athleticism. We watched Kenai Peninsula pigs race. Our daughter visited the Mineshaft Mobile Gem Mining Adventure cart and added more gems to her collection. I drooled over the spectacular mountain scenery. And we learned more about metal print nature photography. Special thanks to Dan Twitchell of Wild Alaska Art for answering our questions.
Wild Alaska Art had a booth displaying metal prints. Twitchell’s images POPPED in a way we hadn’t seen before. We immediately saw the promise for some of our own photography.
Washington State Fair
Two weeks later, we visited the Washington State Fair in Puyallup. Our first stop is always Hobby Hall to view the crafts, photography, quilting, food, and Lego displays. Then we meander among the animal barns, hoping to see the large mother pigs with their piglets.
Mama pig dozes while half of her litter of piglets suckle.
Legos
Our daughter has entered Lego creations at the Washington State Fair for the past five years or so. In 2021 she received “Reserve Grand Champion” for her Parisian Cupcake Cafe. This year, she entered an organic build of a Brooks Falls grizzly bear fishing in a waterfall. She came up with the idea by watching live bear cameras of Brooks Falls grizzlies catching salmon.
I have no words to describe her beaming face when she saw the “Grand Champion” ribbon next to her entry. She’d finally reached her goal to become the fair’s best builder, at the tender age of 18. Might judging be her next role?
Our daughter’s Brooks Falls grizzly bear entry won Grand Champion in the 2022 Lego contest.
Quilling
After finding out that her Lego entry did so well, we wandered over to the paper-folding display to see about her Origami submission. She ended up competing against some beautiful quilled artwork. Quilling is the art of paper rollingand can take infinitely more dexterity, patience, and time than paper folding does.
Our new hobby interest from the Washington State Fair: Quilling!
An exhibitor had set up a display with instructions on how to start quilling. With great interest, we studied the shapes, looked at each other, and exclaimed, “That looks like fun!” The next day, I ordered a beginning quilling set. Within a week, my daughter had mastered enough rolling techniques to make a beautiful holiday card for my parents.
My daughter’s early attempts at quilling. Add it to her strong abilities in painting and building, and she’s got an unbeatable set of talents!
Novelty
A trip to a state fair invites you to explore or try something new and embrace being a beginner. Whether you are drawn to animals, carving, quilting, canning, photography, needlepoint, or making clothes, you can literally get inspired to try just about anything. Every time I go, I see, do, or learn something new. This year’s unique experiences included seeing pig races in Alaska and personally knowing a Grand Champion from Washington. Pretty special!
TRY THIS: The next time you go to a large public place, give yourself permission to do one thing you never thought you would. Perhaps something you’ve always wanted to but maybe you thought it was just for kids, or you were intimidated for some reason. Maybe you’ll choose to stay for a pig race when you usually just go for the music. Or see what animals are featured in the 4-H tent. Put on that beginner’s mentality and engage your inner child. Give it a try! You might find you like hunting for gemstones or seeking monster gardening displays!
Piglets waiting to race.
Something for Everyone
I imagine there are plenty of people who go to a state fair for the scones, barbecued ribs, cotton candy, or caramel corn. We make one concession and sometimes get our daughter an ice cream on the way home — like we did this year to celebrate her accomplishment. Others may enjoy the midway rides, games, shopping, or live music. Our favorite fair-going activities include seeing the animals, viewing the arts and crafts, and wandering. My mother would be especially fond of people-watching. State fairs can spark whatever you are interested in.
For my daughter, Legos and paper rolling are natural interests. We also knitted a few rows at a “scarf station.” My husband was intrigued by some of the woodworkers. He found a new way to give thank-you and holiday gifts in metal prints. As for me? Yes, I do my photography and I’m experimenting with quilling. But my big creative boost is turning our adventures into stories, celebrating through words and photographs to motivate and inspire others. Triple-win!
You can count on me to come away with a few favorite photos of inspirational words, like this “Lessons from a Christmas Tree” China plate.
Do you have a favorite state fair memory or moment you want to share? Write it in the comments below. I love hearing from readers.
This week, Ajax and I headed north toward Shorecrest High School, where our daughter graduated in June. I used to walk with her to school every morning when she was younger. As Ajax and I reached the 80-acre Hamlin Park just north of campus, I reflected on the curious question she asked us during a recent visit. My Active Ajax Adventures project may be just what I need to make it through this year, as I turn emotions into motion.
For the first time since June 2022, I walked by my daughter’s old high school and found myself nostalgic for the many years we used to walk and talk together. Our trip to Hamlin Park helped me turn emotions into motion.
A Curious Question
Sunday afternoon, she told us about getting “the blahs.” Did we have any tips for what to do when she lacks the motivation to do anything?
I remained quiet in the back seat, pondering the blog posts I’d written over the last eighteen months. Which of the many tips on getting unstuck would be most relevant for my teenage daughter? I try hard to avoid giving unsolicited advice. But this time, she’d asked.
Ajax poses with a downed root ball at Hamlin Park.
Turn Emotions into Motion
Whenever you’re dealing with tricky emotions, the first suggestion is to get more physical motion. Sound familiar? I suggested leaving her dorm room for a short walk to Drumheller Fountain to see the geese. Or if it’s dark out, she could take a trip up and down the dorm’s ten flights of stairs.
Getting a change of scenery, clearing the mind, and doing something physical can help get the body and mind synched up and moving again. Not to mention providing feel-good endorphins that will bust any down mood!
TRY THIS: Picture the Superman stance, standing tall, hands on hips, and shoulders back. Putting yourself physiologically into this stance can change your state and make you feel ready to tackle the world.
Sensation
Another idea is to pay attention to all five senses. Doing so returns us to the present moment, rather than staying stuck in the past or worrying about unknowns in the future.
TRY THIS: Find three different things to touch, taste, smell, hear, and see, ideally on a walk from the Motion suggestion. Focusing on something other than your problems, even if it’s for a short while, is a great mood-shifter.
The green markings on this stump-turned-face caught my eye from far away. I had to get closer to check it out.
Hobbies
Our daughter loves art, building with Legos, quilling, painting, drawing, and playing flute. Sometimes engaging in a creative endeavor, even for a very short time, can provide momentum. My own include playing the piano, putting together a few pieces in the current jigsaw puzzle, journaling, reading a chapter, or doing a word puzzle on my phone.
TRY THIS: Next time you’re stuck and can’t figure out what to do next, DO SOMETHING, ANYTHING — preferably an activity you enjoy. Keep it short. Wash the dishes. Clean out your handbag or backpack. Put five items in their proper places. Write a letter. Spend five minutes doodling or coloring. Read a page or a chapter in a book. Motion generates flow and gets things going in your body, mind, and spirit.
A handmade quilling card my daughter created a few months ago.
Pomodoro
Set a timer for up to 25 minutes and commit to working on whatever you need to do until the timer rings. This Pomodoro technique is often suggested for students who are overly familiar with procrastination. After your time is up, reward yourself with 5-10 minutes to do something you enjoy. Be sure to set the timer again, so you don’t spend the entire day! Repeat this cycle of 25 minutes on the task and five minutes on something enjoyable until you complete the task.
TRY THIS: Remember the five-minute action? If you are a writer and can’t imagine setting aside 25 uninterrupted minutes, start with sprints for five minutes. Similarly, if you struggle to get in your workouts, commit to showing up and spending 5 minutes. If after five minutes you simply cannot continue, give yourself permission to stop. Often my clients report that they continue much longer once they get started. Breaking through the inertia is the hardest part.
A memorial bench decorated in holiday streamers. Taking five minutes to sit outside on a bench barefoot can improve your mood dramatically.
Turn Emotions Into Motion: Personal Connection
Ask yourself when was the last time you had a conversation with a friend. Can you call or text a classmate or colleague to meet for lunch? Go somewhere public where you’ll run into friendly faces. The dog park, grocery store, or library works for me when I’m feeling isolated. Write a letter to someone you miss.
TRY THIS: Make a list of five people you’d like to connect with. Send one of them an email saying you’d love to get together and suggest a time. It’s quite likely the other person will be grateful you did!
Sunset on January 10, 2023.
Attitude of Gratitude
Finally, when all else fails, remember that this, too, shall pass. Look around your room at the things you have chosen to surround yourself with. The stuffed animal your grandmother gave you. A card a friend sent. The picture you spent hours working on that turned out just right. By practicing being grateful and appreciating the things around you, you can change your mood and your mindset.
TRY THIS: Make a list of ten things you are grateful for. Your dog. Your quirky nail polish. The A you got on your report. Grilled cheese and tomato soup. Thinking about all the things that are good lightens the hold of the current blahs. Now, take three deep soothing breaths and turn to whatever you need to do. Go to it!
Two mounted guns from the USS Boston, 1898.
Turn Emotions Into Motion in Hamlin Park
Ajax and I made our way around standing puddles and rivulets coming off steeper trails. But water droplets on the trees sparkled in the sunlight. Birds chittered happily in steaming woods. Yes, I missed my daughter. But these rambles with Ajax allow me to connect with parts of myself I don’t otherwise give myself time and space to acknowledge.
After each ramble, I return ready to work. What caught my eye this time? A 3-year-old black Lab named Bronx. Two large guns from the USS Boston, dated 1898, were mounted near the playground. A bent tree is pictured below. A stump painted green. And on our way back, steaming fences where the sun’s rays hit.
Turn emotions into motion. By paying attention to sensory details, I get out of my head and into my body. This helps ground and refresh me.
During our rambles, my senses come alive. I pay attention to things I don’t otherwise notice during everyday activities. Going on long walks with Ajax is like an invitation — permission — to move on. By heightening my awareness during our rambles, I find myself being more present on our daily walks. Something appears to be changing. And if I can turn emotions into motion and move forward, perhaps the strategies outlined above will work for my daughter as well.
Try them out. If you have comments, leave them for me below. I love hearing from readers.
In my last post, I mentioned starting a project dubbed “Active Ajax Tuesdays.” The goal is to explore 52 different outdoor venues with Ajax this year. I’ve renamed it to “Active Ajax Adventures.” Triple A is easier to remember. I promised myself I would not focus all of my next 52 posts on my weekly excursions. But I will use my project as a metaphor for getting unstuck and then share any discoveries. This brings me to today’s post on discovering my Big Why.
We visited six Little Free Libraries in our neighborhood. “Take a book, return a book” is the organization’s slogan.
Walks with Ajax
As background, over the past seven years, I figure I’ve walked my dog roughly 8,000 times (he’s 7.5 years old, so 3 times a day, 365 days a year, give-or-take for inclement weather, illness, or travel). If you repeat the same walk, it’s enough to drive anyone bonkers. For variety, we venture to the public library or nearest grocery store. And I’ve explored enough places in our neighborhood to know where all the Little Free Libraries, holiday displays, and active water fountains are. But I’m ready for the change this project will bring.
Seven Library Loop
On a cool, overcast Tuesday morning, Ajax and I headed out for what I call the “Seven Library Loop.” You won’t find it referenced anywhere. It’s a product of my own creation. It takes us past the Lake City Library in north Seattle and meanders past six community Little Free Library boxes. For this walk, we headed farther south than usual, through a neighborhood I rarely visit.
Our first Active Ajax Adventure of the year took us through Virgil Flaim Park, a local park where I used to take my daughter as a toddler.
One of the parks we passed is Virgil Flaim Park. It boasts a playground and “skate spot” for skateboard enthusiasts. We meandered south toward Lake City Way and detoured down into the wooded ravine west of the heavily trafficked road so Ajax could get a drink of water.
On our first ramble, the best find that sparked joy was a handmade ladder leaning up against a marvelous big tree. I smiled as I remembered playing games outside as a child. Spud, Capture the Flag, Sardines, Flashlight Tag, tree climbing, and Red Rover were summer evening favorites growing up north of Milwaukee, Wisconsin.
A hand-hewn ladder leaning up against an enormous moss-covered, climbable tree near Lake City Way.
Boeing Creek and Shoreview Parks
Our second ramble took us northwest to Shoreline’s Boeing Creek and Shoreview Parks. We had overcast, drizzly mornings for both urban walks, but that didn’t stop us. Hidden Lake is currently bone-dry except for a creek running through the middle. I vaguely recalled that the last time we visited in late summer, I had seen a community announcement about the lake being dredged in the future.
Hidden Lake is currently being dredged. One of the reasons I’ve enjoyed going to Shoreview Park is to see waterfowl on the small lake. Now that I know it is no longer there, I will put Boeing Park on my list for 2024 to see what the end of the restoration project looks like.
I had a second surprise. Ajax headed up a steep bank while I chose to traverse the stream bank. All of a sudden my left foot slipped and I landed in the icy January flow. Fortunately, this is not Alaska! As long as I kept moving, I was at no risk of problems other than a squishy shoe. I did, however, pay more attention to my footing for the rest of our trip. For future rambles, I will take note: If Ajax is wary, choose a different route.
Documenting mishaps only takes a quick snap of the cell phone. A picture is worth a thousand words; this one of my drenched left shoe will always put me back in Boeing Creek having missed one of the stepping stones!
Find Your Big Why: Ask Five Why’s
The biggest takeaway was the question: “Why would anyone else care about this?” It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks about your goal, as long as it ENERGIZES YOU, whatever your reasons may be. You are not setting intentions to please anyone other than yourself. I’ve spent most of my adult life worrying about what other people think. No more. This is a project for me and Ajax alone. But if what I learn can help others, awesome. It does bring up the question, however: “Why THIS project, now?”
Repeat Why Five Times
Enter the Five Why’s. As you reflect on your intentions, ask yourself, five times: WHY am I willing to devote the time, energy, money, and resources to do this thing?
Using the Active Ajax Adventures project as an example, my first answer was that I need some sort of long-term project to look forward to. Right now, my volunteer activities have pretty much disappeared, my daughter has left for college, my company is in transition, and I’m between big writing projects, lacking climbing partners, and facing mid-life. Seems like a great time to jump-start things.
My little adventurer in Boeing Creek Park. His big why is easy to identify: for the pee-mail pupdates, of course!
Why does having a long-term project matter? Through it, I hope to discover some new things about myself, have creative adventures with my dog, enjoy nature, and explore my community.
Why do those things matter? Because they are part of my values. I feel alive and energized when I’m learning new things and connecting with nature.
Why is it important to feel energized? Because the alternative is numbing out or missing out.
My Big Why
And finally, I asked myself: why is it important not to miss out? The past is behind me and I cannot control the future, but I can take charge of what I do today. If I squander now, I’m wasting my one and only precious life. So, ultimately, this project is my way to explore mindfulness, learn to be more fully present, and experience joy in tiny moments.
Having recognized that the AAA project not only fits with my long-term values and provides me with a teachable tool for the year, I am even more committed to following through than when I dreamed up the idea less than a week ago. You can use the tool to get leverage on yourself in whatever project or goal you are currently undertaking.
A sign at Boeing Creek Park spoke to me. As parks and cityscapes change, so, too, is my inner landscape. Embrace change. Where can you use the Five Whys to your advantage?
As always, I welcome your questions, insights, or comments. Feel free to share the results of your exploring the Five Whys so we can all learn and grow.
It’s a brand new year, a time when people often make resolutions. Not me. I set intentions. Remember an earlier blog post (May 2022) on reframing our self-talk? To me, intention, defined as an aim or plan, has a more positive connotation than resolution, defined as “to settle or find a solution to.” I want to surround myself with positive people and positive words. I am also replacing “I must,” “I should,” and “I will” with “I want” and “I choose.” Let’s explore how you might set intentions for 2023.
“Moments” is my keyword for 2023. That single word reminds me of what I want to commit to in 2023. I set intentions to be more present and to pay attention to tiny moments of joy, such as the spectacular sunrise on 1/2/23.
Move Toward Instead of Away From
James Clear, author of Atomic Habits, writes about moving toward something instead of away. Which are you? I confess: when people ask me what I want, I often say, “I don’t know, but I know what I don’t want.” Sound familiar?
This year, I have determined six things I want to do more of:
Appreciate beauty
Connect deeply
Move frequently
Create abundantly
Improve lovingly
Challenge gently
I can hear you now, probably referring to my post from last January. “But Court, those aren’t SMART goals. Where’s the Specificity? Metrics? Actions? Realism? Time-stamp?” Right. But I never called these GOALS.
When you feel like you’re about to go under, jot down some of your favorite moments. This form of gratitude can give you a few moments of peace and help you reframe your reality. How can you get more joyful moments into your days?
Set Intentions Using Values
Think of INTENTIONS as values or principles that steer you through life. They are as much a part of us as sleeping, eating, exercising, and breathing. If you can remember what matters most to you at the foundational level, you can use those values to help you make decisions about what to include in your day. Once you know what you value, seek to include more.
The sixth intention, challenge gently, stretches me outside of my comfort zone. I remember the first time I went into Lake Washington on New Year’s Day for the annual Polar Bear Plunge. It was a challenge. Now it’s just a quirky, fun tradition, something I look forward to every January first. I trust that things I currently perceive as stretches will become more familiar and common with practice.
I start my year with my first set intention: taking the Polar Bear Plunge at Matthews Beach. This year the air and water temperature matched: 46 F. Thank goodness for hot tubs!
Active Ajax Adventures
My six intentions have culminated in a fun “moving toward” challenge. I call it “Active Ajax Adventures.” (AAA for short. I love my shorthanded acronyms!) These will look similar to Julia Cameron’s Artist Dates, only done with my dog. My chosen day is Tuesday, rain or shine. I will do something active with Ajax. This could be a hike in the mountains or a park. It could be “sniffer” training, or nose work, which he loves. We can do something shorter like visit an off-leash dog park. Or we can find new neighborhoods to explore on our walks. Something new and different every week. For us both. And something I look forward to. No dread.
Ajax on Tiger Mountain Trail New Year’s Eve morning 2022. He absolutely loves hiking with me and I love giving him adventures. The “Active Ajax” idea came to me on our 8-mile hike and seems like a wonderful challenge for 2023.
Combining Intentions
What is exciting about this project is it creatively combines all six intentions. By documenting our outings on camera, I will pay more attention to my surroundings (appreciate beauty) while also connecting with my dog. “Active Ajax” means (bonus!) I will be active, too. The “create abundantly” part will play into my choice of location and how I document our adventures. “Improve lovingly” means improving my mood, well-being, self-definition, and exploration of our region. Wins all around!
I’ve even given myself permission to shift by a few days if the weather doesn’t cooperate. If one of us is sick, or if I find myself over-committed on a Tuesday, perhaps Wednesday or Thursday will work better. The intention is to have 52 unique adventures with Ajax in 2023.
Appreciating beauty is one of my set intentions. Mossy logs covered in fungus on Tiger Mountain Trail, 12/31/22.
Set Intentions: Try This
Several weeks ago I wrote about using journaling to find your strengths, values, and priorities. If you have that list handy, pull it out. Now, from your list, choose three to six values that you want to focus on in the coming months. Reflect on those values on a few walks. See if some creative idea comes to you that merges all of them together like the Active Ajax example.
If not, that’s totally fine; think of how you can set an intention to get more of that value in your life. Instead of “lose twenty pounds” can you choose a “moving toward” goal like “play pickleball weekly with a friend” or “set a step minimum with a reward for succeeding”? The more playful, the better. And announcing your intention to someone who acts as an accountability partner also helps. I have all of my readers to hold me accountable!
Just one look at my beaming face when I’m out in nature is enough to solidify my commitment to Ajax. We both love it; I’m the one who makes it happen. So I’m setting intentions to document our adventures and share what we learn on this “intention” quest.
If you have an unusual intention for 2023 or would like suggestions for how to make it more likely that you will follow through, share them in the comments section below. I love to hear from my readers and respond to each credible post.
Congratulations, you made it through the holidays. Perhaps you’re feeling a little overwhelmed with your recent choices. Ready to move forward? Pull out your Traffic Lights list of “green, yellow, and red-light” foods. Now is the perfect time to create a plan to make over your kitchen.
That includes getting rid of the four containers of mint chocolate chip ice cream you forgot you had stashed for emergencies. The fruitcake your aunt brought over and left behind. Bags of chips you bought on sale. Holiday leftovers well-meaning guests insisted you keep. If they’re on your “red-light” list, it’s time to say goodbye.
When you make over your kitchen, recognize that different members of your family may have different nutrition needs. Try to create a space where everyone will feel safe and supported.
Make Over Your Kitchen: Get Started
The first step to getting a handle on your kitchen is to choose a small area to start with, especially if you get easily overwhelmed. Since we’re talking about edibles rather than dishes and cutlery, perhaps a good place to start is the pantry. The freezer. The refrigerator. The Lazy Susan. A shelf.
Whatever you choose to overhaul, pull everything out of the designated space. Everything. Scrub the area to signal to yourself that you’re starting over. Then go through every item and keep what supports you. Toss what does not.
Although Sourdough bread is on my personal red-light list, I no longer crave anything with gluten. Therefore, I can have bread in the house for my daughter for special occasions, without being concerned about having any.
What to Look For
Sometimes looking at a pile of stuff feels overwhelming. Next week, what if you need something you just got rid of? The following suggestions are things you’ll be better off without:
Foods Past Their Expiration Dates
The first time I got my daughter to help me, she found foods that had expired five or six years earlier. Ewwww. Food labels have expiration dates for a reason; you don’t want your food to make you sick. Toss them out.
Holidays are a unique time of indulgence and overeating, but you CAN make healthy choices again.
Junk Food
We all have different definitions of what is green, yellow, or red-light food, but the following foods have no place in a healthy kitchen. The more food has been processed, the fewer nutrients it has. Remember that anything you have in your house is going to get eaten by you or a loved one unless you give it away or throw it out. These include:
Chips and Crackers
Candy and Chocolate
Sweetened drinks, including any with artificial sweeteners
Alcohol and mixers
Instant foods
Processed fats
Frozen dinners
Manufacturer Labels
Become a savvy consumer. Learn how to read food labels. If any of your remaining foods contain high fructose corn syrup, any form of sugar, hydrogenated oil, fractioned oil, or preservatives you cannot pronounce as one of the first three ingredients, get rid of it. If any foods in your “toss” bag are still edible and have any redeeming nutritional value, consider donating them to a local food pantry.
A place for everything, and everything in its place. Right before Christmas, I spent four hours doing a purge on my own pantry to support us through the holidays.
Red-Light Items
Anything that leaves you feeling sick, powerless, or craving more has no business in your kitchen. This gets tricky if you have multiple members of your household who can all eat different things. If it helps, add a label for who gets what, then stick to it, so you can be sure you’re not digging into that bag of chips at oh-dark-thirty when you know it will give you heartburn in a few hours.
Make Over Your Kitchen: How to Restock
Now that you have cleared your shelves, what can you eat? It’s time to make a list. Write down the foods from your “Green-light” list.
See if you can plan three meals’ worth first — one day — so you don’t panic.
Skewers are yummy any time of year. Such a meal allows participants to choose exactly what they want on their plate.
Next, Precision Nutrition recommends that you start by choosing any three foods from the following categories and add them to your list – fresh or frozen doesn’t matter at this point:
Keep the ingredients real. Choose whole foods over processed (an apple beats apple juice or packaged applesauce any day). Single-ingredient foods when possible. The fewer ingredients the better.
Add seasonal, organic, and local food items.
Avoid foods with “health benefits” labels like “fat-free”, “low-fat,” and “good for you.” An apple doesn’t need any such artificial labels.
Gluten-free cauliflower crust pizza with peppers and chicken. All ingredients I can safely eat. Yum!
Where to Go From Here
Once you have completely restocked your kitchen with good choices, you have a few remaining responsibilities:
Enjoy the choices you’ve made
Be vigilant about shopping – don’t go grocery shopping when you are “hangry” as those foods you just tossed out might sneak back into your shopping cart
Explore new recipes, flavors, and combinations by befriending the spice drawer
Cut, dice, chop, and prepare fruits and vegetables so they truly are “ready to eat.” There’s nothing worse than setting a good intention and finding out your crisper has become a rotter.
When you bring new foods into your clean space, have a plan for using them so you don’t waste any. Here are the salsa ingredients for the fermenting fan in our home.
And remember, every day you have new choices to make. By shaping your environment — not bringing trigger foods into the car, purse, gym bag or kitchen — you help yourself make healthier choices the next time you’re hungry.
Do you have any post-holiday tips for readers? Consider commenting below. We love hearing from our readers!
At the end of each year, many of us reflect on what went well and what we wish the coming year would look like. But what if we feel stuck and struggle to identify what exactly we truly desire? The journaling exercises below may help you determine what you want.
To determine what you want, think about what you are good at. A Whooper Swan in Monroe, January 2022.
Determine What You Want: Your Strengths
One place to begin is to reflect on what your skills and strengths are. This includes the realm of work and your personality traits. Precision Nutrition offers a free “Learning Skills” assessment to help you understand how you learn. For a hundred years, the Johnson O’Connor Research Foundation has offered aptitude testing. They match you with the kind of work that capitalizes on your innate abilities.
You might also access the online Strengths Finder Assessment. It is based loosely on Tom Rath’s book, Strengths Finder 2.0. Write down skills and abilities others have mentioned in work evaluations. Include skills you use in hobbies, especially anything that causes you to lose track of time.
One of my favorite responsibilities at the Woodland Park Zoo was handing out browse to guests for the Giraffe Encounter. Not only did I get to learn more about these wonderful animals from the keepers, but I also got to be part of the visitors’ joyful experience.
Prioritize Your Skills
After you have compiled a list of 12-15 strengths, prioritize them so that you can see which ones you MOST want to use during a day’s work and which ones you could get by without. I always look for ways to include writing and editing in whatever I do, whether that means taking notes as my critique group’s secretary, sending my clients summaries of our Zoom conversations, or developing weekly blog posts. I seldom use my auditory or musical abilities in work, but I do love to play the piano.
As for weaknesses, I avoid technology unless I see the end benefit of working through frustration toward mastery. Back in August, 2021 I shared my seven-year journey to starting this blog. If you perform a job where your daily tasks never get easier or leave you constantly frustrated, you won’t last in that job for long. Look at your top five strengths and list some roles, positions, or jobs that might use them. Remember, you’re not in the “editing” phase yet. You’re simply letting your creative self play.
One thing that is important to me is the natural beauty of and access to the alpine wilderness. While I grew up in Milwaukee, WI, I would not live there again as I cherish the mountains of Washington state.
Identify What You Love
The next journaling exercise is to jot down all the things you currently love to do. Your list may include “skiing,” “cooking,” “traveling,” or “getting compliments.” It could include things you are naturally good at, such as taking photographs, working with animals, or sorting and organizing.
Include things you loved as a child, teen, and young adult. If your favorite class in high school was anthropology, reflect on what intrigued you most. Was it the subject matter, the teacher, the particular book, or something else? If you felt tremendous curiosity about penguins as a kid, why? Did you ever want to be a teacher, lawyer, or doctor? What in those early thoughts still resonates with you? The more you play with this, the more you tap into your creative, artistic, and dreaming side that knows no bounds.
Mountains near Moab, UT. If you know that you want to travel, yet you accept a job where you can’t take time off to do so, you’re not going to be happy.
Determine What You Want: Top Priorities
The third journaling exercise is more challenging. It requires examining your values and roles and determining what is most important to you in your life. These change with time. A free online resource that might help is available at Personal Values. Five of my top values came back as Health, Creativity, Acceptance, Curiosity, and Independence. When I examine my current work situation as a holistic wellness coach and author, all five of those personal values are implemented. A good match!
As you evaluate your personal values against your current job, how many fit? If there are any that are not being utilized or satisfied, you might be able to satisfy them outside of your job. You could modify your job to include what’s missing. Or you can look for work or volunteer opportunities that might satisfy more of them.
Two other top values were Family and Community. Engaging in my daughter’s high school graduation was something I wouldn’t have missed for anything.
Plan Your Next Steps
Precision Nutrition’s worksheet, “From goals to actions,” may help you organize the information you’ve identified above so you can move forward in the new year. If you determine that you are in the right job but you need more personal time, ask for it. Perhaps you realize some of your strengths are being underutilized or not recognized or valued at your job. Can you find a way to bring them up so that you can use them?
Finally, if your values don’t match those of your company, or your company doesn’t value what you have to offer, it may be time to look for another job. One that uses your strengths, allows you time and freedom to do some of what you love, and matches your values and priorities.
May the coming year be the one that allows you to change your work situation so that you feel fulfilled, valued, and honored as the unique individual you are!
This week I have struggled to find my focus. Whenever that happens, I return to something very basic. Something most of us never think about it. In addition to increasing your movement during the winter months, consider exploring breathwork to release stress. Below are a few breathing techniques to try this holiday season. Consider it a new tool in your toolkit, one that is completely free and accessible to anyone.
Whenever you feel like you’ve “flipped” and need to recenter yourself, focus on your breath. Where do you feel the air coming in? Into your chest or your abdomen? Is your breathing shallow and fast, or slow and deep? Breathwork helps if you are climbing a vertical wall and your heels start to bounce up and down (a sensation known as “sewing machine leg”). But it can also help if you see red, such as when a driver swerves too close. Or when some nincompoop with fifty grocery items is in the express-only line in front of you.
Breathwork is as important as restorative sleep and good nutrition. Shown are the ingredients for fermented salsa in holiday colors.
This stress-relieving breathing technique is taught to US Navy SEALS and is great for reducing anxiety or helping regain your center. Take a deep, slow breath in for a count of four. Hold your breath in for four counts. Then let it out to a count of four, and finally hold it out for four counts.
It’s also known as 4*4 breathing. If you were to draw it, it would resemble a box (or square). Simple! 4 counts in, hold 4, 4 counts out, hold 4. Times four. I use this at night when I need to get my mind off my to-do list and place it on something mundane and calming.
Ajax and a snow dog I built during our most recent snowfall on December 3. Playing in the snow and hiking are two activities that help me release stress.
According to Healthline, “The slow holding of breath allows CO2 to build up in the blood. Increased blood CO2 enhances the cardio-inhibitory response of the vagus nerve when you exhale and stimulates your parasympathetic (rest and digest) system. This produces a calm and relaxed feeling in the mind and body.”
In other words, rapid shallow breathing (aka hyperventilating) is something you do when you’re in fight-or-flight about to fend for your life, but long, slow, deep breaths are a sign that there is no tiger in the room. Try it and see how it works for you.
This is another stress-relieving breathing technique that involves deep slow breathing as though you are inhaling through a straw, holding it for several seconds, and then slowly exhaling through pursed lips. The title link has a 7-minute meditation video to follow to experience it for yourself. If watching a minute video set to mellow, soothing music makes you too anxious (or you’re so tired it might put you to sleep!), you may advance the video to minute 4.
Winnie and his “Hunny” jar, our mid-day creation from December 3, 2022.
Balloon breathing is a popular one to teach young children to get them to calm down and be centered. Place your hands on top of your head. Inhale deeply as though you are about to blow up a balloon, and raise your arms over your head as the lungs inflate fully. Having the hands overhead appears to let more air into the lungs, especially if you have been sitting at a desk or screen all day.
As you slowly exhale, bring your hands back to your head. Repeat three more times. On the last breath exhale with pursed lips to make as silly a sound as you can. Who wouldn’t feel more relaxed after acting like a kid?
Snowfall February 12-15 in 2021 was abundant. This igloo took three of us a good four hours to make but left us with great family memories.
Release Stress through Fascia Breathing
If you are interested in doing a deep dive into the importance of breathwork for your tissue health and workouts, Human Garage has a 28-Day Life Reset available for free on YouTube. When I do fascial work, I take three breaths in and out through the mouth and three breaths in and out through the nose. It feels especially helpful on torso rotation to release the tension in my lower back, or a modified pigeon to release my hips. Try it yourself and feel the difference between where the breath goes and what parts of your body reap the benefits.
The tallest snow creation we’ve ever made. For reference, I’m 5’6″ and this guy, built on February 13, 2021, was a good eight feet tall.
Until doing some research earlier today, I was unaware that this was actually a name for a breathing technique. It is as you might expect: take a deep breath in, and then pretend you’re blowing out the candles on a cake. This is a great one for parents with toddlers and grade-school kids, but who’s to say kids are the only ones who can enjoy it?
Release Stress by Creating Your Own
As you explore different breathing techniques, you may notice yourself creating your own version. When I’m having trouble sleeping, I play with each of the, sometimes even combining them into something new. I recently tried a sipping breath (slow straw) with balloon breath (to the point that I think my lungs are full, then I sip in a little more which seems to help the body relax even more) and then exhale slowly, imagining a single candle in front of me in a dark room. I visualize it dancing in the flow of air until it stills, as I hold the air out. It helps to have a specific calming image in mind to shut off my worried brain.
One of our more whimsical snow creations, a Minion, was a popular one among the neighborhood dog walkers.
As always if you find these techniques helpful or you have other breathwork you care to share, please post comments in the box below. I love hearing from readers and will respond to each legitimate post.
Writers are constantly instructed to “throw rocks at the main characters to make them suffer.” That means we provide readers with plenty of tension and conflict. We give our characters struggles, obstacles to overcome, and battles with others in order to help them grow. It’s the same in life. Conflict creates resilience.
But in February when I broke my wrist, I only saw pain and struggle. I couldn’t imagine anything positive coming from it. Now, having regained most of my strength and range of motion without needing surgery, I can see everything I’ve learned. Rehab exercises. Isometrics. Alternative movements that don’t require grip. And how long it takes someone my age, who is religious about her exercise program, to recover. The biggest lesson, however, is this: if I can face THAT, I can face anything.
A selfie I took on 2/22/22. Broken bones disrupt every routine. Conflict creates resilience. Whenever you struggle, look for the positives. How will this battle help you grow?
The Counselor
As an INFJ from the Myers Briggs Inventory, I am what they call “a counselor,” part of the rarest 2% of the general population, including only 2% of women. Brene Brown, whose copious materials on shame, guilt, and vulnerability speak volumes, happens to be an INFJ. So is cartoonist Debbie Tung, author of Everything is OK and Quiet Girl in a Noisy World. I’m relieved I’m not the only one!
I love to nurture and help people grow through my coaching company. But I also prefer avoiding conflict. That makes for some very tense internal struggles because change is almost always messy.
Can we maintain an attitude of gratitude and look for the GROWTH that comes from conflict and tension?
In Texas a few weeks ago, my husband and I talked about this dichotomy. I could feel myself squirming during his questioning. I prefer to listen. My tendency is to withdraw if I am unable to explain my side of things well, or if I feel like my values are being examined and come up lacking. On our drive to Corpus Christi, all I could do was sit calmly, take deep breaths, and try to contribute to the conversation without feeling attacked.
Conflict Creates Resilience; Life Without Is Not Living
Eventually, I understood what my husband was trying to say: we need conflict in order to grow. Those moments that stand out most in my mind — my wedding, my daughter’s birth, graduating from college, and becoming a climb leader — all took courage, struggle, and effort. We don’t accomplish meaningful things overnight. Also, we don’t remember moments of smooth sailing for very long. Instead, we recall the mistakes, the failures, and the big moments of tension right before we change.
Tension within ourselves provides conflict as long as the end result includes taking action. Not withdrawing, burying your head in the sand, or diving into addictive avoidance behaviors, but positive forward steps. Struggle provides the stimulus for us to take action. Without it, we can’t grow.
Can we use conflict in a positive way to truly listen to others rather than simply fighting for fighting’s sake?
Keep in mind that by “conflict” I don’t mean picking fights, being belligerent, protesting big issues, or seeking confrontation. Yes, those are examples of conflict, but to me, it feels like so much conflict these days is fighting just to fight. Instead, we could benefit from listening to opposing points of view with the goal of truly understanding others. Being open to why people feel or do what they feel or do. And understanding why we feel a need to avoid conflict.
Learned Behavior
When our daughter mentioned struggles she was having with her roommate, part of me wanted to rush in with advice. To help her avoid the pain that comes from conflict. I realized I’d been doing that for most of her life.
As hard as it is for me, it’s time to let her struggle so she can come through the other side with new coping skills. With the knowledge that she is resilient enough to figure things out for herself instead of relying on her parents. That means she may have to suffer massive discomfort, mistakes, and pain in order to change. That’s a tremendously hard lesson. But if we keep in mind the learning opportunity, it softens the pain.
This year our daughter entered a unique “Fishing Grizzly Bear” Lego sculpture at the Washington State Fair. It took five years of trying, but this year she became the Grand Master Champion.
Fail Big
One of my favorite motivational videos is by Denzel Washington. In this clip, he speaks to a group of students graduating from the University of Pennsylvania. His key takeaway moments are to FAIL BIG, FALL FORWARD, and KEEP TRYING.
He reminds students that Thomas Edison conducted many, many failed experiments. It only took one success, the light bulb. What sort of life are we living if we never try anything new? If we do the same thing, day in and day out, “playing it safe”?
Winnie the Pooh constantly strives to get his favorite snack from the “hunny” jar. My husband and I had fun building this December creation, despite less-than-optimal conditions and without our daughter, who chose not to join us.
Fall Forward
Rather than “having something to fall back on,” he suggests falling forward, flat on our faces, and often, so we can see where we’re headed. He mentions that each student in the audience has the talent to succeed; but who among us has enough guts to fail? “We don’t plan to fail, we fail to plan.” What does your plan for 2023 hold?
When you think about what you want more than anything else — whether that’s an intimate relationship, a new job, a toned body, a dream vacation, or a successful climb — what is holding you back? What stands in your way? Can you take the first bold, courageous step toward it today? What struggles do you have to face to get it?
Mushrooms dusted with early December snowfall.
Keep Trying
Washington’s last point in the video is to keep trying. Says Otto Kroeger, in Type Talk at Work, “INFJs’ nonstop search for learning, self-growth, and development—and wishing the same for everyone else—makes them very reassuring to others and people worth emulating.” My sincere wish for readers facing struggle is that if at first, you don’t succeed, find something else to try. As long as you are alive, you will continue to face struggle. But you also have tons of things left to try in this lifetime.
Pull out that wish list you have tucked in a drawer somewhere. Use the tools from within this blog to create SMART goals, take five-minute actions, and figure out what today’s one thing will be. Draw from the resilience of others who have found a way through. Conflict creates resilience. See what new lesson you can get from the difficult struggles ahead. Never give up.
When you get a clenched jaw, butterflies in your stomach, a pumping heart, and racing thoughts take three deep breaths. Don’t “flip” and go lizard-brain (i.e. fight or flight). Take the next step. Trust that you will get through. You got this.
As always, if you are facing some sort of conflict and you need a sounding board, I’m here to help. Post your issue in the comments or send me a personal message. Please do not struggle alone!
Today as the snow fell in Seattle for the first time this winter, I looked at my pile of to-read books. I thought about what might be on other people’s lists. In online interviews, many published authors say they’re reading author memoirs for inspiration. Or maybe the classics (yawn…) Friends who aren’t writers usually say they’re reading popular bestsellers. Those who aspire to be published often share that they’re reading books in their genre. My “to-read” pile of books reveals a lot about what I’m currently focused on. What does your pile reveal about you?
My daughter’s foray into quilling. This handmade card for my parents inspires me to go beyond my current boundaries into the wild unknown. Along with the books below, I have three quilling books begging to be picked up and used.
To-Read Books About Changing the Mind
In December, I often look back at what I accomplished in the previous eleven months. I start thinking about changes I might make in the coming year. In my current short stack of eight books, a whopping seven are self-help books. The first four have to do with changing the mind.
Debbie Tung: Everything Is OK
I just completed Debbie Tung’s graphic memoir, Everything Is OK. What a relief!
Tung’s graphic memoir is a collection of comics about overcoming anxiety and depression. If you are looking for a quick, inspiring read to help you through the long, cold, dark winter months, this one is perfect. Whether you experience SAD or general angst around the holidays, you are not alone, even if it feels like you are.
Her number one piece of advice for getting through dark, overwhelming thoughts (p. 166), is “To make small changes in your life and dedicate more time to work on things that matter to you.” For me, that includes keeping up with my weekly blog. It acts as an anchor when everything else feels like it’s spiraling out of control. It helps me recognize those thoughts that are keeping me stuck while inspiring others to do so as well.
Tama Kieves Books
Tama Kieves’ Thriving Through Uncertainty.
Tama Kieves’ Inspired & Unstoppable.
I first came across Tama Kieves in January 2022 during a journaling seminar through the IAJW. She so inspired me with her delivery that I reserved several of her books from the library. As soon as I came across “Doing one thing” and “Keeping it simple, stupid,” ideas I shared in my blog last year, I knew I had found a kindred spirit.
I read a page a day from AYear Without Fear, a book that shares daily 5-minute inspirations. Thriving Through Uncertainty provides helpful jump-starts, thought questions, and exercises. I pull it out when I have time to reflect on how I might change faulty messages I’m sending myself. Inspired and Unstoppable supplies wisdom when I most need it, including her opening line: What if everything you thought you needed to do to succeed was actually standing in the way of your success?
Pam Grout: A Course In Miracles Experiment
The Course In Miracles Experiment, by Pam Grout. Hopefully, this will be more accessible than the extremely dense, overly religious, and intimidating original, A Course in Miracles.
Kieves, a life and work coach, combines wisdom from her self-help books with tips for the layperson from A Course In Miracles. I recently joined one of her online groups. She repeatedly said that we either act out of love or fear, and we have complete control over which we choose. I recently added Grout’s “Cliff notes” version of the dense program, A Course In Miracles, to explore more deeply in the coming months.
All four of these books reveal to me that I rely on motivational messages to move forward. Since I am a visual learner, I prefer books in written format. However, I have been listening to audiobooks in the car. Such books reveal that “When the student is ready, the teacher appears.”
Books about Self-Acceptance
The next three self-help titles on my reread list deal with self-acceptance and self-understanding. I own all three, but I find I have to keep reviewing the material to get it to fully sink in. I often joke that I move at glacial speed, pondering and musing until suddenly, one day, it sinks in and I push forward like there’s no stopping me. How do you move forward?
Brene Brown: Gifts of Imperfection
Ever since I heard Brown’s Houston Ted talk, I’ve been a huge fan of hers. I’m currently listening to her audiobook, The Power of Vulnerability, for the second time. Her message in this book, letting go of who you think you’re supposed to be (there’s that dreaded word, should!) and embracing who you are, overlaps beautifully with the next book.
Self-Compassion, Kristin Neff
Neff is another Ted Talk inspiration. I’ve recommended her book more often than any other, except perhaps Dan Sullivan’s Gap and the Gain. The message that stands out is using the same empathetic and compassionate techniques you would with a best friend, on yourself. She also insists that everyone suffers; everyone has pain — it’s a necessary part of being human. But we must not beat ourselves up over mistakes and hardship; we can recognize we’re struggling and still move forward with grace and compassion. Of all the books on my list to read, this one has been the hardest for me to tackle.
As I write this post, I recognize it’s probably the one I need to study most of all. In books I own, sometimes I make notes in the margins. Exactly a year ago, I finished the first chapter. Armed with that knowledge, I am moving it onto my “High priority reading list.”
The Emotional Life of Your Brain: Richard Davidson
Of all the books in my pile, this one is the most scientific and newest acquisition. In 30 years of research, neuroscientist Davidson discovered that we each have an “emotional style.” Chapter 3 has a quiz to assess it.
Our emotional style consists of resilience, outlook, social intuition, self-awareness, sensitivity to context, and attention. Our pattern constitutes our “emotional fingerprint.” I’m eager to learn more about mine and what it says about how I relate to others. He also has a chapter titled “Plastic Brain.”
To-Read Books: Survival Fiction, including Falcon Wild
To-read books: I’m currently reading Falcon Wild by Terry Lynn Johnson.
Finally, we reach my favorite escape category, fiction. I have been racing through middle-grade survival stories, where youngsters find themselves in the middle of the wilderness and have to survive (NOT surviving middle school itself. Those are ubiquitous!)
I have a particular fondness for books for 10 to 14-year-old readers. I have been working on several, myself, for a number of years. Some of my favorite authors in the genre include:
Gary Paulsen — his famous novel, Hatchet, the first in a series of four, was a Newbery Honor-winning Young Adult book from 1986. Sadly, Paulsen died of cardiac arrest in October 2021
Dusti Bowling — she writes desert survival stories including The Canyon’s Edge, Across the Desert, and 24 Hours in Nowhere. I’m thrilled to hear that her latest book, Dust, comes out in 2023.
Terry Lynn Johnson — the book I am currently reading is Falcon Wild. She’s also written a dogsledding series and a Survivor Diaries series. If an author combines birds, survival, and clean reading about pre-teen protagonists, I will read it.
Our first snowfall of the 2022-2023 season.
Takeaways From Examining My To-Read Pile
Before I close, I should point out that I get zero commission from referring to any of these books. If you find them interesting, check them out at the local library, put them on your wishlist, or offer them as holiday gifts to those who might benefit.
My takeaways from examining my to-read pile are that I am:
Curious about how the brain works, in particular, whether neuroplasticity applies to the emotional life of our brain.
Interested in finding accountability, support, and encouragement around books that have been difficult to work through on my own.
Ready, willing, and able to make significant changes now that I’ve been developing a growth mindset.
Eager to change those thoughts that keep me stuck.
A dusting of snow on local mushrooms.
How about you? What takeaways have you discovered around your reading list? If you have insights or suggestions for further blog posts about getting unstuck, please share them in the comments. And if you have additional resources that fit the takeaways above I’d love to hear about them. Joyward!
As we approach the holidays, I have determined that I need more play, more often. How about you? When was the last time you laughed so hard that your face hurt? Have you done anything recently just for fun? Do you play games that engage and thrill you? This holiday season, I encourage you to think about what you have enjoyed doing in the past and see if you can play your way to gratitude.
One way to gratitude is to pay attention to your surroundings and note what catches your eye. I loved the colorful deep pastel colors of these oversized chairs on South Padre Island. This blog shares other “playful” photographs as an example of how the camera can help YOU detect what constitutes play.
Vacation Objectives in South Texas
My husband and I just returned from a play vacation. We spent three days with friends in Humble, TX, walking, talking, enjoying great food, exploring local parks, and playing card games and Yahtzee. Then we headed south toward the Rio Grande to birdwatch for four days.
In my most recent blog post, I shared five goals for our trip, all of which we accomplished. I focus herein on the last goal, embracing tiny moments of joy.
A deer enjoyed snacking on vegetation at Atascosita Park in Humble, Texas. We played on the huge climbing structure, walked around the urban ponds, and got pictures of the local wildlife.
Way to Gratitude: Embrace Tiny Moments of Joy
Cesare Pevase said, “We do not remember days, we remember moments.” The tiny moments that I capture with my camera remind me of where we visited, what happened, and what sparks joy for me. Two other trips we took this year also sparked joy. They included one of my all-time favorite hikes in Moab’s Fiery Furnace, and to Alaska with our daughter. Photos highlight what matters most to us, what we wan
