Finding Joy in Unusual Circumstances: Lessons from the Trail

I recently escaped to the mountains on two separate occasions seeking solace. The first was November 7 when the nation awaited election results. The second was five days after a bomb cyclone left more than 600,000 people in Western Washington without electricity. Despite the contrast in challenging conditions, both outings brought me opportunities for growth, peace, and finding joy. Perhaps some of the suggestions herein will provide you with tips for cultivating a joyful mindset when facing unusual circumstances.

A hike up Garfield Ledges provided a moment of celebration following my mentored hike on November 23.
A hike up Garfield Ledges provided a moment of celebration following my mentored hike on November 23.

On election day, I hiked 16 miles to Thompson and Granite Lakes from the Granite Creek Trailhead. Mother Nature doled out a little of everything: rain, sleet, hail, snow, wind, and sun. While my nine-year-old dog, Ajax, has been a fantastic trail companion in recent years, I knew he couldn’t do the planned mileage. To be honest, I wasn’t even sure I could when it started to snow.

My hike included moments of joy, from selecting the right gear to connecting with nature in the first snowfall of the year. While I took traction devices with me, I never needed them. I did use my poles as I headed down the steep snow-covered slopes to Thompson Lake. I also borrowed a warm waterproof layer from my husband which, paired with gaiters and waterproof boots, kept me toasty and dry in the sleet and hail. Who knew proper preparation could bring such joy?

My solo hike to Thompson and Granite Lakes left me giddy. There's nothing quite like feeling completely at home in the elements.
My solo hike to Thompson and Granite Lakes left me giddy. There’s nothing quite like feeling completely at home in the elements.

At one point, I stopped to study several animal tracks in the fresh snow: deer, snowshoe hair, and perhaps even fox. The silence soothed me. Sleet turned to big, fluffy flakes the higher I ascended. I smiled, as I prefer snow to rain any day of the week. During the 7-hour hike, I only encountered five other solo hikers. Were they escaping for the same reasons I was?

I had done several 12- and 14-mile hikes, but hiking 16 miles in the waning daylight of November was a first. When facing adversity, can you create a solo outing for yourself that feels challenging but manageable?

Raging Granite Creek along the trail to Granite and Thompson Lakes.
Raging Granite Creek along the trail to Granite and Thompson Lakes.

Consider writing a reflection piece before and after your outing to capture any shifts to your mindset. During your adventure, think of three things that delight you. They can be as small as a fluffy snowflake you catch on your mitten or as big as a rainbow over one of the lakes. I delighted in listening to a pair of downy woodpeckers chirping at each other as they foraged for bugs. What strategies come to mind for finding joy?

My second illustration of finding joy in unusual circumstances was during my mentored hike with the Mountaineers. On November 19, a bomb cyclone brought high winds into the region that blew down trees and caused massive power outages. Lots of people canceled, leaving me wondering whether I’d have enough people to participate. I only needed three for it to count! At 9:10 a.m. on November 23rd, five of us headed for Big Creek and Otter Falls under spitting skies. What would we find on the trail?

Fortunately, the four women who joined me were all well-prepared for the elements and we experienced a refreshing day of winter-weather hiking. My biggest goals were twofold: to stretch beyond my introverted comfort zone and make sure everyone had fun and to help everyone navigate across high stream crossings so we could all return safely. Not only did we reach both objectives, but we connected in ways that only adversity and shared experiences can provide. After 9 miles and two waterfalls, three of us still had enough energy to visit nearby Garfield Ledges to celebrate completing my mentored lead hike.

My four fearless female companions pose in front of Big Creek Falls. We were finding joy everywhere!
My four fearless female companions pose in front of Big Creek Falls. We were finding joy everywhere!

It had been years since I’d led climbs and Family Activities outings for the Mountaineers. I was nervous about hiking with strangers, but also excited about the challenge. How might you plan a group activity that pushes you outside of your comfort zone while prioritizing safety?

Our lunch spot was at Otter Falls and Lipsy Lake. I shared how grateful I was for the four of them joining me on my mentored lead hike.
Our lunch spot was at Otter Falls and Lipsy Lake. I shared how grateful I was for the four of them joining me on my mentored lead hike.

Consider reflecting afterward on moments of connection and joy within your group. When having a snack or lunch, challenge each other to come up with one thing each group member contributed to the experience or one thing you’ve learned from your partners.

What I learned from both adventures is strategies for finding joy. Preparing in advance can be a way to develop joyful anticipation. We can’t control election outcomes or storms. But we can control our gear, mindset, destination, and safety. What would a “joy checklist” look like for your next outing?

On Election Day, the snow muffled the sounds and turned the trail white and beautiful. I delighted in the different snow textures, from slushy in one area to icy or crunchy in others. Tracks provided evidence of people and animals who came before, but how long ago? Try embracing any unexpected changes and look for beauty. By seeing setbacks as opportunities, you become more adaptable and experience greater joy in the moment.

Even spotting unusual mushroom shapes can provide a moment of joy.
Even spotting unusual mushroom shapes can provide a moment of joy.

As I hiked alone on Election Day, I missed my dog. But I also appreciated the stark fall mountains and lakes. With companions on my mentored lead, we shared stories and selfies. In both cases, I experienced different types of joy. How do you connect to the place or the people you’re hiking with? How might solitude or companionship enrich your experiences?

Finally, in both cases, physical exertion releases feel-good endorphins, whether that’s from the gentle grade of the 9-mile hike to Otter and Big Creek Falls or the strenuous 16-mile hike to Thompson and Granite Lakes. To create joy in your next outing, set a physical goal that feels challenging yet achievable.

Soggy, yes, but well-prepared for the elements and happy as can be. Thanks, ladies! You made my mentored lead memorable!
Soggy, yes, but well-prepared for the elements and happy as can be. Thanks, ladies! You made my mentored lead memorable!

What do these two examples evoke for you? Can you think of a recent adventure that taught you something about joy? If you struggled with an outing, how might you cultivate a growth or joy mindset to have a more positive outcome next time?

What are some “unusual circumstances” that might benefit from a new approach to wilderness adventure? How might you apply some of these exercises to your situation? Share your stories of finding joy in unexpected ways in the comments so we can all benefit. I love hearing from readers.

How to Be Happy Now: Stop Chasing Elusive “There”

I’m guilty of thinking, “When I do X, then I’ll feel happy.” This week, I gave a one-hour seminar on nutrition for hikers and trekkers, a process that began in August and spanned three months. I thought I would be thrilled to talk to a large group of people and elated to develop a new course. And I was. But a day later, I caught myself wondering “What’s next?” Chasing future achievements often means we miss the delightful present, which is all we have. So how do we shift from chasing the future “there” to being happy now?

On November 9 I helped with a WTA Trail maintenance work party at Kasch Park in Everett. I left muddier than I can ever remember. I also met some super people. That day, working hard, and trying to stay warm, I was truly happy and not worried about anything in the future.
On November 9 I helped with a WTA Trail maintenance work party at Kasch Park in Everett. I left muddier than I can ever remember. I also met some super people. That day, working hard, and trying to stay warm, I was truly happy and not worried about anything in the future.

Think of something you’re pursuing. It might be a new job, a bigger house, a fitter body, or an adventure you’re training for. We probably all have some future milestones we’re shooting for, some “there” that matters to us. I have another coming up on Saturday: a hike with a dozen Mountaineers members that will result in being added to the official hike leader list once I complete it.

Yet I know that as soon as I finish it, a new “there” will emerge. Probably along the lines of “How many hikes can I lead in 2025 to earn a Superleader badge?”Achievement of goals is fleeting. They don’t last. Or if they do, we may find ourselves extending the finish line. “Once I lead x hikes, then I’ll be happy.” Wait. If happiness doesn’t exist in the future, how do we find it now?

Rays of sun peek through the trees, turning yellow leaves to gold during a recent walk with Ajax to Hamlin Park. As my stress levels dropped I recalled being happy now.
Rays of sun peek through the trees, turning yellow leaves to gold during a recent walk with Ajax to Hamlin Park. As my stress levels dropped I recalled being happy now.

The trick is to find a way to tap into mindfulness and awareness of where happiness falls in the moment. During a recent WTA work party on the Licorice Fern trail on Cougar Mountain, I was excited to learn how a new trail is created. After spending a few hours expanding and leveling an existing trail (aka, lots of digging and root chopping), I meandered over to where a few orange hats (crew leaders) were creating a bypass. I got curious and asked questions.

When the King County trails worker went through the woods with a chainsaw, I followed safely behind and removed the downed branches, stumps, and logs she sliced through. I caught myself humming. During that moment, helping create something future hikers would enjoy, I was happy.

Creating a brand-new trail is hard, satisfying work. The bypass we built followed the pink flags to the left. I helped clear the path for diggers to prepare the soil.
Creating a brand-new trail is hard, satisfying work. The bypass we built followed the pink flags to the left. I helped clear the path for diggers to prepare the soil.

Another example was enjoying a 5-mile urban walk with my dog Tuesday morning before a bomb cyclone hit the region. We meandered along trails in Hamlin Park. It was my celebration outing for completing my talk the night before.

Once we turned off the city street and ventured onto the dirt trail, I felt my blood pressure drop. Stress ebbed away. My shoulders relaxed. I could hear the birds, smell the dirt, and feel the sun’s rays warming my back. If you know anything about me through 3.5 years of blogging, I celebrate all of my major accomplishments with a visit to nature. It is truly my happy place, whether I’m hiking in the mountains, walking with my dog, or building new trails.

Since we are a week away from Thanksgiving, a national US holiday involving gratitude, I thought I would provide a week’s worth of action tips to explore. As you practice each, take note of what makes you smile. What brings you delight? What do you notice about your physical body and mental outlook as you practice them?

Finding this patch of "red snow" in Hamlin Park made me smile. I knew I had a great photo op with Ajax.
Finding this patch of “red snow” in Hamlin Park made me smile. I knew I had a great photo op with Ajax.
  • Pause to notice small joys: Feel the sun. Give a kind word. Enjoy a moment of stillness.
  • Engage with your surroundings: Immerse yourself in tasks or nature. Go on a color walk. Take a picture of your favorite shape or color and share it with someone. Listen to the birds.
  • Reflect on daily wins: write down or mentally acknowledge what went well today. Anticipate what might go well tomorrow.
Our task at Kasch Park was to decommission a trail so that the wetlands could recover. Moving logs that took four people required teamwork and common purpose.
Our task at Kasch Park was to decommission a trail so that the wetlands could recover. Moving logs that took four people required teamwork and a common purpose.
  • Practice gratitude: Reflect on one thing you’re grateful for today. Running water. Restored power. A pretty floral design in your neighbor’s yard.
  • Move your body: Engage in a physical activity you enjoy, whether it’s a walk, yoga, stretching, or dancing. Movement helps release tension and grounds you in the present moment.
  • Focus on your five senses: Experience your environment, not only what you see but the textures you touch and the temperatures you sense, the sounds you hear, the scents around you, and the flavors of a meal. This sensory awareness brings you into the present moment.
  • And finally, do for others: Perform a small act of kindness, like sending a letter, calling a friend, or picking up something someone dropped. Helping others can boost your sense of connection and purpose.

Hugging trees makes me happy. Fresh air, good company, exploration of somewhere new... what's not to be happy about?
Hugging trees makes me happy. Fresh air, good company, exploration of somewhere new… what’s not to be happy about?

After completing my presentation, I asked for feedback about where I might improve for next time. At work parties, I learned first-hand how trails are built by helping those with more experience. By using neuroscience-based exercises in my training sessions, not only am I teaching people about what works best for their bodies but I’m also learning how to improve workouts. When I lead hikers to Otter and Big Creek Falls on Saturday, I’ll demonstrate how to stay safe in the mountains, no matter what the outcome is. Such moments of connection are happiness in action.


Connections between friends on a rainy, wet trip to Big Creek Falls.
Connections between friends on a rainy, wet trip to Big Creek Falls.

We don’t have to wait for happiness. It’s already all around us, waiting for us to notice. What happiness have you noticed in small moments? Share it in the comments so we can all benefit from our collective experience.

How to Thrive Alone: Facing Challenges on Election Day

On Tuesday I escaped to the mountains to avoid the growing tension around national elections. I planned to hike to Thompson Lake via the Granite Creek Trail and ended up adding a stop at Granite Lake, too. This hike allowed me to gauge my physical and emotional progress in 2024. What’s more, I enjoyed an early snowfall. I never would have guessed back on August 21, during my first solo hike without Ajax (you may recall my encounter with three bears) that I could thrive alone merely ten weeks later.

The boulder field above Thompson Lake was covered in 3-4 inches of snow.
The boulder field above Thompson Lake was covered in 3-4 inches of snow.

From my weather research, I expected a break in the storms. But forecasts are not always accurate. Especially in the mountains this time of year. The first challenge I faced was to prepare for anything.

Mine was the only car in the parking lot Tuesday morning when I headed out just before 7 a.m. I’d hiked part of the Granite Creek trail twice this year, once with Ajax before his injury, and the other with my daughter. For the first hour, things looked promising. At the waterfall halfway between the bridge and the Thompson/Granite Lakes Junction sign (what I will refer to from here on out as the Junction), it started to sleet, forcing me to pull out my waterproof jacket. Fortunately, it didn’t last long.

Once I passed the Junction, I could see a trace of snow collecting on the ground. Sleet turned to big fluffy flakes the higher I went. I smiled, as I prefer snow to rain any day of the week.

A deer track?
A deer track?
Animals use trails as the paths of least resistance, too!
Animals use trails as the paths of least resistance, too!

The snow grew deeper, reaching 3-4 inches by the time I reached the dark woods between Thompson and Granite Lakes. Tracks appeared in the snow — deer, rabbit, perhaps fox? A trip report from 3 days prior said they’d turned back at the ridge above Thompson Lake. The world grew muffled until I could see only my tracks. Another smile. I had the mountain all to myself.

The second challenge I faced was the distance of the hike. Completing 14.2 miles with 3400 feet of elevation gain solo is a lot, particularly in November. There aren’t as many people on the trail in case something goes wrong. Daylight is shorter. The weather can get dicey. And snow can mask the trail, slowing you down even more.

I did it! I reached Thompson Lake solo in the snow, a trip Ajax and I tried earlier this summer.
I did it! I reached Thompson Lake solo in the snow, a trip Ajax and I tried earlier this summer.

But I’d hiked several 13-mile routes in the past few months. What’s another mile? I was having such a great time, enjoying the freedom of the hills, that I wasn’t in any hurry to return to reality. What surprised me, however, was my willingness to jump from 13 to 16 miles.

That’s right. I added a side trip to Granite Lake, tacking on 1.5 miles to the 14.2 I’d intended. I was there, I felt strong, and my pace was solid, so I went for it. At the lower elevation, snow turned to rain. After a quick bite, I returned along the muddy trail to the junction, encountering a woman with two dogs who told me she wasn’t feeling particularly energetic. I shared some beta about both trails before wishing her luck.

For the final mile, the sun joined me. I’d had everything — sleet, hail, wind, rain, snow, and sun. And the clothing and knowledge to handle it all. The metaphor was not lost on me. The more tools and experience we have to handle the complexities of life, the more options we have to roll with whatever comes up.

Previous human tracks by some natural benches before entering the dark woods between Thompson and Granite Lakes. Snow depth was about 3-4 inches.
Previous human tracks by some natural benches before entering the dark woods between Thompson and Granite Lakes. Snow depth was about 3-4 inches.

Not only was I physically and mentally prepared for a 16-mile day, but I could do it with the trail covered, in driving hail or drifting powdery flakes, or in bright sunshine, all with a smile on my face. Adding that extra distance showed me what’s possible when I’m fully engaged and enjoying the journey. Invincible!

The second activity was studying animal tracks as I hiked, imagining the prints compared to what Ajax leaves on our walks and guessing where the wild creatures might be in the middle of the day. And the third was listening closely for any birds. My favorite moment of the entire hike was when I paused briefly on the climb from Thompson Lake back to the ridge.

When you hike alone, you can't take any photos of people. So I look for delight in the landscape, from mushrooms to heart rocks to snow prints and downy woodpeckers.
When you hike alone, you can’t take any photos of people. So I look for delight in the landscape, from mushrooms to heart rocks to snow prints and downy woodpeckers.

I heard a faint twitter and glanced around, wondering what bird could be making that sound. There! Tap tap – a woodpecker! Finally, I spotted it, then smiled when I saw two downy woodpeckers chittering softly at each other as they foraged for insects under the bark. captures the bittersweet reality of growth—learning to move forward independently while still holding onto fond memories of past companionship.

My fourth challenge was making sure I had the right gear for an all-day solo outing. During my scouting trip to Big Creek Falls, I shared the story of having a degraded cell phone battery, rain gear that wasn’t waterproof, and no way to charge my phone. Although going all day meant carrying more weight, I barely noticed it. Fortunately, most of the grades on this trail were quite gradual.

At Granite Lake, I decided not to linger too long as snow turned to rain.
At Granite Lake, I decided not to linger too long as snow turned to rain.

On this trip, my gear did beautifully. I had gaiters, microspikes, and trekking poles, a water-resistant coat (which I wore most of the time), a down coat (which I never used), a pack cover (which I pulled out as the snow turned to rain), plenty of food and water, a wool hat and gloves, and even a sitting pad.

Even though I did not use everything, I had it if I needed it. Just as we equip ourselves for hikes, we can build resilience for life by gathering the right skills and tools for our journey.

On election day, I desired self-soothing. I found it in the mountains. During my seven-hour trip, I encountered a total of five people and three dogs. Each person was hiking solo. Nobody discussed politics, only the conditions on the trail. Mother Nature is a wonderful equalizer.

A heart rock I found for my mother.
A heart rock I found for my mother.

I challenged myself mentally and physically and came back feeling revitalized. Personal growth, like this hike, is often a solo journey with ever-changing conditions. Every mile built confidence. Each stream crossing reminded me that I was making steady progress. And each type of weather was an opportunity to embrace change.

The final mile in the sun represented the light at the end of the tunnel. Whatever our struggles, wherever our journey takes us, I firmly believe there is always hope. For growth, for learning, for beauty, and the healing balm of nature. I wouldn’t have it any other way. May you find your ray of sunshine, hope, and empowerment this season of Thanksgiving.

How to Boost Your Energy in a Season of Change

For the past two weeks, I have provided moral support to my parents in the aftermath of Hurricane Helene. Our country faces an upcoming election unlike any other. As the light fades in the northern hemisphere, we prepare to shift clocks this weekend, which means the days for longer hikes grow fewer and farther between. And the holidays are just around the corner. How do you cope with mounting stress? What if you could boost your energy by pursuing what you love, getting creative with your adventures, or slowing down? That’s exactly what I tried.

On October 22, I visited Gold Creek Pond (above), The Tunnel, Lodge and Beaver Lakes, and Franklin Falls, uniquely combining four adventures into one lovely day.
On October 22, I visited Gold Creek Pond (above), The Tunnel, Lodge and Beaver Lakes, and Franklin Falls, uniquely combining four adventures into one lovely day.

I also looked for inspiring quotes, including this one by Abraham Maslow: “In any given moment, we have two options: to step forward into growth or step back into safety.” While safety may feel desirable, in this season of change I find myself choosing growth.

Despite everything going on — or, more truthfully, because of it — I spent as much time as I could exploring new trails in new situations. If you haven’t noticed by now, I adore hiking. It feels like I’m a bud opening and thirsting for more. The links are to WTA trip reports if you care to learn more.

Peaks at Snoqualmie Pass are reflected in Beaver Lake (Exit 52/Hyak) on the Pacific Crest Trail.
Peaks at Snoqualmie Pass are reflected in Beaver Lake (Exit 52/Hyak) on the Pacific Crest Trail.

Three of these eight adventures stood out to me. On October 22, I linked together four shorter hikes (1-5 miles each) for a 14-mile day. I never realized that short driving breaks could boost your energy and leave you wanting more.

SPO-OO-OOKY! The Palouse to Cascade Tunnel at Exit 54 is worth exploring.
SPO-OO-OOKY! The Palouse to Cascade Tunnel at Exit 54 is worth exploring.

The Iron Horse Tunnel hike with the Mountaineers was perhaps the most memorable. The Tunnel at Exit 54 is 2.3 miles of mostly flat, packed gravel and requires walking by headlamp. When we got a mile in, we could only see a pinprick of light on either end. Someone had set up a few scary dolls in anticipation of Halloween.

We collected trash, talked and laughed, and stopped at each alcove to see what we might find. It’s a unique sensory experience with a great echo that everyone should try once. It also meant I was one step away from being a hike leader.

On a rainy Saturday, two friends and I headed up the Middle Fork of the Snoqualmie to scout out the trail to Big Creek Falls. I had just posted a listing for my upcoming mentored hike before leaving. By the time I got home, the hike had already been filled, with people joining the waitlist. It proves how much need there is for off-season hike leaders to step up, a task I plan to take on come December.

I am now fascinated with new-to-me places. Why has it taken me so long to leave all the familiar trails? “When the student is ready, the teacher appears.” The mountains have more to teach me about leadership, courage, and adventure. But perhaps a better question is, “What adventures lie ahead in 2025?” I’m ready.

Need a way to boost your energy? Visit Big Creek Falls. It already has flowing water and is well worth the visit.
Need a way to boost your energy? Visit Big Creek Falls. It already has flowing water and is well worth the visit.

Our Big Creek hike taught me that my jacket is not waterproof; my phone battery was corrupted and no longer held a charge for a 3-hour hike; and I needed both a backup charging system and a dedicated car cord for my phone. Tech has never been my strong suit, but with a big enough WHY I have solved these problems and more.

My third example of restful novelty came as a surprise. Need to boost your energy? Try visiting somewhere you’ve never been before. Shelton View Forest is a gem about 20 minutes north of my house. Ajax and I found a little of everything: 3 old cars. A Little Free Library with books in good repair. Rocks painted green and labeled with plant identification names. A “Telephone of the Wind” poem memorial. An Eagle Scout eagle’s nest.

Three cars are being reclaimed by nature.
Three cars are being reclaimed by nature.

Roots are painted orange for easier visibility in the fallen leaves. Boxes in a fairy garden offer kids arts and crafts projects. Ten benches beg to be enjoyed. Sense of humor signage (“wet way, other way”) made me giggle. Steep ravine walks burn the quads in an interval workout. And at the bottom of the ravine, solitude and silence await. 

The sensory experience of the flat Tunnel walk, the Big Creek Falls scouting trip, and the delightful gem with Ajax made these three stand out above the others. All were new to me. None was physically demanding. Getting outside to enjoy nature and re-create ourselves can happen in many ways. We don’t always have to set a new PR (personal record), cover more distance, or carry more weight. Sometimes we can just go for the sake of exploring and enjoying ourselves.

Beautiful signage for local plants.
Beautiful signage for local plants.

Another thing I love is helping people. The hike at St. Edward State Park last Wednesday provided a spark of energy. I had arranged ahead of time to join an outdoor exercise class to get comfortable with the participants. At the end of the class, I asked what kinds of questions they had about trekking nutrition. With their input, I am developing a free online class that will air before the end of the year.

The last time I spoke in front of more than 2-3 people at a time was pre-pandemic, so I felt nervous. But that energy helped me prepare suitable questions. When the day arrived, I joined the fun for two hours. It felt quite natural to segue into a 15-minute question-and-answer interaction at the end, listening to their needs. Brief but satisfying, especially since I may have found another niche I can fill.

Fall beauty energizes me. I love going on color walks, color hunts, and explorations in October, my favorite hiking month.
Fall beauty energizes me. I love going on color walks, color hunts, and explorations in October, my favorite hiking month.

Each baby step toward growth helps me build confidence in a way that feels authentic. Just challenging enough to energize me, rather than shut me down. Instead of thinking, “There’s no way I can do this,” I now tell myself, “I’ve succeeded at each previous step. Where there’s a will, there’s a way.” Try making a list of simple things that boost your energy. Then include them regularly.

The third source of energy in the past few weeks has been finding diverse ways to support others, whether taking people on hikes or incorporating neuroscience into training sessions. And my parents updated our family on a video call to get us all on the same page. I’d been struggling to find a way to support them since my week-long in-person visit got canceled. Imagine my delight when my mother asked if I’d be her self-care accountability partner.

I dove in with 100% energy. I sent care packages. Cards. Texts with movement ideas from a color walk to a “leave a book, take a book” at a local little free library. My mother thanked me for the support. Things felt like they were going great.

Snow dusted the nearby peaks of Snoqualmie at Exit 52.
Snow dusted the nearby peaks of Snoqualmie at Exit 52.

But when a day or two lapsed in communication, instinct kicked in and I backed off. The last thing a coach wants to become is a nag. After a traumatic experience like living through a hurricane, a desire to return to normal is very strong. But the reality is my parents have numerous demands on their time. Like getting potable water daily. They may have phone service and electricity, but they’re still surviving. It may be another six weeks before they can think about returning to thriving.

Perhaps the best way to offer support is to let someone know I’m here in whatever capacity they need. Rest isn’t a luxury; it’s a necessity. While it may give me energy to support others, if the people I am trying to help withdraw, could it mean I’m trying too hard? I have let go of a few friendships that are too one-sided, with me putting in all the energy while getting little back. Like seasons, maybe relationships also ebb and flow.

Yes, Ajax still gets to go with me on adventures. But I limit him to under 8 miles and relatively tame elevation gain.
Yes, Ajax still gets to go with me on adventures. But I limit him to under 8 miles and relatively tame elevation gain.

When life spirals out of control, sometimes the best thing you can do to boost your energy is to slow down. Rest gives us the strength to face what’s next, whether that’s dealing with family, confronting community challenges, or starting new personal ventures. If I feel overwhelmed and pressed for time, my go-to energy booster is to take off my shoes and sit outside in my yard for a short period of grounding. In the rain, I use an umbrella. If it snows, I use water from my hot tub to melt a patch of snow.

What is your go-to method to slow down and reconnect with yourself? This season, permit yourself to pause. Rest is not a retreat; it’s the way forward. I’d love to hear your re-creating, rejuvenating strategies for the holiday season. Leave them in the comments so we can all learn.

Fall brilliance makes October my favorite month for hiking.
Fall brilliance makes October my favorite month for hiking.

Turn Challenge into Strength: Shift from Doubts to Wins

This week featured outings to Otter Falls and Tiger’s Poo Poo Point. Challenges that once felt intimidating (solo hiking and hiking with strangers) have become familiar. My new challenges are returning to public speaking, developing new content, and testing neuroscience-based training methods with several clients. As I build skills in exploring the mountains in new ways, I am teaching my brain that whatever challenge I face today will become familiar tomorrow, no matter how scary it feels. You are never too old to learn, grow, and change.

Beautiful fall colors at the Issaquah Community Center where a group of 8 of us participated in a hike to Tiger Mountain's Poo Poo Point via the High School Trail.
Beautiful fall colors at the Issaquah Community Center where a group of 8 of us participated in a hike to Tiger Mountain’s Poo Poo Point via the High School Trail.

Last week’s disappointment faded into the background as I continued to face new challenges. When my hiking partner chose to wait for us in the car on Tuesday, Ajax and I explored the trail to Otter Falls ourselves. While I would have loved having company, I also embrace the newfound confidence I get exploring new trails. Visiting Granite Creek in June–my first solo new-to-me hike in years–opened the door to new possibilities. Now, I embrace exploring new trails by myself. Growth!

Fall colors - just a hint - at Otter Falls off I-90's Exit 34.
Fall colors – just a hint – at Otter Falls off I-90’s Exit 34.

On Friday, I joined a group of strangers for a new-to-me area of Tiger Mountain, Poo Poo Point via the High School Trail. I hiked to Poo Poo from the Chirico Trail last July 4th but hadn’t ever started from the Issaquah Community Center. Friday’s route is more interesting and less crowded than the Chirico Trail. Win! We had rain on both days, but rain no longer bothers me. I have evolved into a four-season hiker (strong wind is the main deterrent now) and look forward to leading hikes with the Mountaineers soon. Another win!

I’m also stepping into new challenges such as returning to public speaking and incorporating neuroscience into training sessions with clients. My resistance decreases with each step forward. All of these changes require the ability to adapt and move forward despite challenges. We can’t expect to make progress in huge leaps. Instead, it comes in micro-movements. It often feels like I’m moving at glacier speed, barely perceptible, until some nudge causes part of me to break forward, never to return to the previous state. Embrace change wherever it comes from. It’s a sign of growth and resilience.

Ajax looks out over the Middle Fork of the Snoqualmie River on the Otter Falls trail in the rain.
Ajax looks out over the Middle Fork of the Snoqualmie River on the Otter Falls trail in the rain.

Consider the past week. Make a short list of big events, appointments, conversations, or meetings you had. Was there anything new that you’ve never done before? How did it go? If not, how might you plan something new for the coming week? What can you celebrate from the past week? Give yourself time to visit a different store, explore a new park, or try a food or recipe you’ve never had before. Having new experiences fuels our brains and expands our lives.

One of my biggest unexpected successes occurred while I worked with a client. He shared a new problem with his foot and what he’s tried to help it. Mentally sifting through my neuroscience material, I tried several experiments and then asked him to remove his shoes. It turns out his narrow shoes had been creating a sore spot on his little toe. He showed me where he’d modified his insert and I had him experiment with sliding his fingers between tight toes to return them to their normal position. We discussed the possibility of getting shoes with a wider toe box to see if it helps.

Fall is mushroom season in the Pacific Northwest.
Fall is mushroom season in the Pacific Northwest.

Later that afternoon he called, ecstatic. He’d visited three stores and finally acquired toe separators and a new pair of shoes. Delighted, he shared his success story: “I felt so powerful doing yard work all afternoon. It’s a miracle. Tell everyone about that toe separator trick, it works!” Big win!

Despite previous doubts about whether I’ll ever master the thousands of hours of new material, I now see that ANY improvement is a win. I took a chance integrating the new material with years of client experience and it paid off. Any of the exercises I can teach successfully means victory. And the more victories my clients have, the more forward momentum and confidence I build.


More mushrooms!
More mushrooms!

While frustration can feel like a setback, perseverance builds resilience. Try to remember to use challenges as proof of your strength. If you can organize a hike, maybe you can use the same skills to organize a class. If you can eat well at home, perhaps you can use some of the same skills to eat well during travel. Skills are skills; the challenge is to tap into your creativity to use them in new ways.

Look back on last week. Where were you challenged? Now that you’ve got some space away from the challenges, ask yourself: What did I learn? What could I do differently next time? What proof do I have that I am growing and becoming more resilient? If we see our challenges positively, we can move forward rather than stay stuck.

How can we conquer self-doubt? Instead of seeing it as a barrier that prevents you from moving forward, perhaps you can frame it as a sign that you’re expanding outside of your comfort zone in meaningful ways. Self-doubt seems to be a natural part of any growth process.

We can view nervousness before public speaking as dread and anxiety, or we can frame it as excitement. The physiological response is the same: A nervous stomach, shallow breathing, faster heartbeat. But the words we use or the stories we tell ourselves (see any of Brene Brown’s research if you’re intrigued) help our minds feel better or worse about a given experience.

Three co-leaders enjoy a snack at Poo Poo Point. My next challenge after Tuesday's hike will be doing a mentored lead.
Three co-leaders enjoy a snack at Poo Poo Point. My next challenge after Tuesday’s hike will be doing a mentored lead.

To practice reframing doubt, try journaling about what is going well. In other words, identify your Gains rather than getting stuck in the Gap. You can spend more time on preparation, such as outlining and practicing your talk; scouting out new hikes before you lead them; and trying exercises on friends or family before you charge clients for a session. And you can share what you think with mentors or peers who can provide objective feedback. They can help you identify and grow your strengths rather than focusing on weaknesses.

Think about the last challenge you had that was similar to one you’re feeling doubtful about. When I get nervous about public speaking, I envision all of the times in the past that I’ve done well, rather than the two that didn’t go well. Instead of dwelling on the negatives, analyze what you did to succeed and put those skills and habits into practice with this new challenge. Remind yourself of the many ways you’ve succeeded. You will at this, too.

Finally, focus on your long-term goals, also referred to by health and wellness coaches as your wellness vision or mission statement. Remember why you’re trying to do the things you do. I impressed myself this week with how clear my reasons are and how easily I can explain them. Instead of hearing the question, “What will this do for you?” and replying, “I have no clue!” I can succinctly say why I’m doing certain things. That’s a HUGE win.

More mushrooms encasing vines of ivy.
More mushrooms encasing vines of ivy.

What is your life purpose? What is your Big Why? Can you come up with some process goals rather than outcome goals? If that feels too daunting, pick a smaller area of your life and come up with one change you might improve. That may be as basic as drinking 64 ounces of water a day, or as complicated as getting an advanced degree by the time you turn 60.

Whether you want to help your family, get another credential, pick up a new hobby, or lead a group into the mountains, look for what gives you energy and spend more time there. If you feel no spark of energy for what you’re considering, it might not be the right thing to pursue.

Get comfortable with a good cup of your favorite hot beverage and then take a few deep breaths. Then, without censoring yourself, write down 20 things you are interested in learning more about. Don’t let the editor get in the way, just let your inner child play. When you get to 20, get up and leave your list alone. If you reread it now, you might find fault with each item. Put it somewhere you can look at it with fresh eyes.

One thing that gives me energy is exploring new-to-me trails. This public art is one of six installments by Thomas Dambu's called "Jakob Two Trees", part of his Northwest Trolls, Way of the Bird King. See www.nwtrolls.org for more.
One thing that gives me energy is exploring new-to-me trails. This public art is one of six installments by Thomas Dambu’s called “Jakob Two Trees”, part of his Northwest Trolls, Way of the Bird King. See www.nwtrolls.org for more.

Then 1-2 days later, pick it up again. Study it. What pops out at you as the most exciting, the item with the most energy? What step can you take today to start pursuing that high-energy item? You owe it to yourself to pursue your dreams. I’m so close to finishing the requirements to get back to hike leading, and every hike I go on makes me itch for more. I’m chasing that energy and feeling stronger every time I go back to the mountains. You can find that same energy if you trust yourself to do so.