What Matters Most: How to Remind Yourself

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.
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.
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.
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 (pair of dice) in our front lawn. This was a deliberate, planned sculpture that we failed to make in December during the deep freeze, so we tried again.
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.
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.
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.

Power of Yet: How To Use It to Move Forward

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.
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 seen from northeast Seattle on a clear February evening.
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 walk.
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.
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?

Albert Davis Park, a playground near Lake City Library. My guess is this fire might have been started by the homeless using the play structure as a windbreak to cook their food. I've seen them do the same thing at a bus stop.
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.
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.
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.
  • *Licorice Fern Natural Area A ravine south of Jackson Park Golf Course, east of a community pea patch.
  • *Llandover Woods Greenspace 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.
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 maintained boardwalks but we quickly found ourselves getting sucked into mud when several of the bridges collapsed.
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.

Power of Yet: How To Use It to Move Forward
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.
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.

How to Expand Life One Outing at a Time

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.
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.
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.

Yellow-headed blackbird (left) joins a red-winged blackbird (top) and house sparrow (right in flight) at a local feeder.
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.
Short-eared owl on farmland.
A short-eared owl on the hunt.
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, the Great Blue Heron.
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!

Nudge the Notch: How to Inch Forward

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.
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.
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?
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% better each 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.
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.
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.
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!
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.
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.

A Failed Perfect Plan: How To Reap the Rewards

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.
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."
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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