CourtSchurmanGO.com 2024-11-20

Hiking on the PCT Leads to Questioning Should

Ajax at Gravel Lake, one of two alpine lakes (Ridge is the other) located 1.2 miles beyond the exposed Katwalk. This hike led me to questioning should and whether it's a useful or harmful word. — Ajax at Gravel Lake, one of two alpine lakes (Ridge is the other) located 1.2 miles beyond the exposed Katwalk. This hike led me to questioning should and whether it’s a useful or harmful word.

I recently hiked a portion of Washington’s Pacific Crest Trail called the Kendall Katwalk near Snoqualmie Pass. Most of my exploration over the past two years has been within an hour’s drive of Seattle along the I-90 corridor. By adding Kendall Katwalk, I had an opportunity to observe a cross-section of the hiking community I haven’t encountered on previous hikes. This hike left me questioning should.

Backpackers carried bulkier loads with luxuries ranging from Thermarest pads to fishing poles and other items I couldn’t imagine. Day hikers toted light packs containing the Ten Essentials — a change of clothing, sunscreen, snacks, perhaps a map. Trail runners traveled the lightest of all: vests with water bottles stuck in pockets or pouches.

But the PCT has something extra.

Thru-Hikers

The PCT is a beautiful trans-continental trail that stretches 2653 miles between the Mexican border to the Canadian border. Some people choose to hike in “sections” or “segments” while others hike across entire states. One small group of section-hikers even had a dog with them, carrying his own kibble.

Then there are those brave souls, mega-mile adventurers, who hike the whole thing. Nonstop. In one season. They are called “thru-hikers.” And it’s fairly easy to spot them.

They look seasoned, sun-bronzed, comfortable, and happy to be outside. Each one we spotted was headed north. Many hiked alone; most had smiles on their faces, a spring in their step. I wondered if that meant each had resupplied at exit 52. A shower, soft bed, and a good meal will improve anyone’s mood.

Their packs looked as compact and light as those of day hikers, pared down to the bare essentials: Protein bars. Water filter. A single set of clothes that could be layered between resupply stops. The simplest, lightest bivy gear possible.

Ajax and I should try that someday, I thought.

Uh oh.

Questioning Should: Why Avoid It?

Whenever I hear myself thinking I should I think back to the informal promise I made to my critique group members several years ago. If we see, write, think, say, or hear another use the word “should” we draw attention to it. I remind them to jot it down on a piece of paper in really big letters, and then take a favorite color Sharpie, and scribble over it until the word becomes something else.

Why?

Should shames

The word “should” connotes wishful thinking that lacks action. It is the word of shame. Like the Tiny Buddha blog points out in Three empowering alternatives, it removes all of our power. I have gotten in the habit of reminding myself to use the words choose, want to, or get to. After all, life is about making choices, whether good or bad. By getting mired in “should” we are stuck living a life of regret. Who wants that?

Shoulds are wishes gone astray

Josh Spector has an interesting take on the word; he completely removed it from his vocabulary. Even my own teenage daughter tried explaining why should doesn’t work for her — and she’s certainly got things she could use the word for: I should get a part-time job, I should start my college search, I should send those thank-you notes. But in her own words, should means being “wishy-washy.” I think of the should items as wishes gone astray. Behind each of your shoulds is something you want, or think you want; maybe some aspect of it is desirable, but for whatever reason, you have not pursued it.

Yet.

How Should Can Be Helpful

But if, for a moment, we forget about the shame and regret that comes from thinking “I should do X, but I’m not,” we can use self-compassion (wait, what? you don’t have that yet?) and gentle curiosity to think about why that thing is appealing to us as well as why we are not pursuing it right now. More importantly, it helps us examine what it is, exactly, that we are craving.

Twenty years ago, my husband and I spent five nights and six days on a climb of Mt. Kilimanjaro. On that trip, we talked about how neither of us really loves sleeping in a tent. At the time, we were considering three-week climbs of Denali or Aconcagua, both trips at high altitudes and in snow. But sleeping in a tent for merely five straight nights had us questioning our enjoyment of tent camping. Why on earth was I considering something that would require much longer?

Court receiving her Kili certificate

As I considered the days it takes to hike a section, weeks for each state, and many months for the entire PCT, I realized that my “should” was expressing something else entirely.

Questioning Should: What It Revealed

My “should” was simply urging me to do something different. Not surprising, given the fact that we’ve all been holed up to some degree for the past 18 months.

I didn’t really want to hike the PCT. But what I could see trying with Ajax is going on a light backpacking trip, maybe one night for starters, to test gear and see how we both do on the trail with only canvas protecting us from wild animals. A new adventure. Perhaps we could also expand our horizons by discovering more new-to-us trails. That gave me energy. And my third idea, finding new people to hike with, was actually something I immediately put into practice on our hike.

Ajax and I met a kind Frenchman from Oregon named Gerard. He started from the parking lot a few minutes before we did, and when we realized we were traveling at about the same pace, we fell into step and ended up hiking to Gravel and Ridge Lakes together. He commented about how, in his experience, people in America are much more chatty than people in Europe. We discussed a wide range of topics, providing us both with a completely different experience than what we initially expected.

If action and forward progress are what you’re after, examine your shoulds. What would happen if you let go of them? Can you rewrite them using the magic words, CHOICE, and WANT? Thinking outside of the box about my three ideas makes me far more excited than tackling a “should” that I don’t even want. If you feel increased energy and enthusiasm when you think about what you really want (and not what someone else wants for you, or wants for themselves), then you’re well on your way to your next step toward lasting change.

How to Let Go: Lessons from Cultivating Raspberries

Earlier this summer, my teenage daughter expressed interest in planting raspberry bushes in our backyard. In the back of my mind, I thought about weeding, watering, bramble rangling, and additional care that might add to my workload when she starts college next fall. Since I am our designated lawn caretaker, anything outside the walls of our home falls on my shoulders, until I learn how to delegate. This was her project, not mine. Could I let her be the driver? I would have to let go of her sooner or later. I didn’t expect it this soon.

Two ever-bearing raspberry plants flanking a transplant from a friend's garden. Letting my daughter take the reins on such a project taught me how to let go. — Two ever-bearing raspberry plants flanking a transplant from a friend’s garden. Letting my daughter take the reins on such a project taught me how to let go.

Don’t get me wrong, I adore time outside, from hiking and forest bathing to volunteering at Woodland Park Zoo, to grounding and journaling in our yard. But removing berry brambles, ivy, dandelions, and bamboo grass is my least favorite garden chore. Give me a pruner, lopper, lawnmower, broom, or rake and I’m happy. Did I really want to add more chores? Could I hand over this project to someone and keep my hands off? And what about the fruit? Ambivalence seized me: wanting and not wanting change at the same time.

Sound familiar?

Gardening During a Drought and Pandemic

If you have any sort of garden, you might think this is a silly topic to blog about. I’ve always thought of myself as having a brown, not green, thumb. I am quite proud of the fact that once we got our backyard wildlife habitat established in 2011, we turned it over to Mother Nature. Seems like I always forget to water my indoor plants, even succulents, African violets, or cacti, which are all supposed to be hardy.

If my daughter succeeded in cultivating raspberry bushes and they produced fruit, would she follow through on her promise to take care of them? Would they even survive one of the worst droughts the state has seen? Would our dog dig them up before they got established? Would future droughts wipe them out?

Teaching Teenagers about Goal Setting

We added “plant raspberries” to our family “to do” list on our 50/50 house project, but weeks passed without any progress. Would it be a wish that never bore fruit (pun intended)?

However, in mid-August, my husband decided to encourage and support her enthusiasm for raspberries. The two of them sat down and discussed the steps necessary to build a raspberry garden. After developing a list of questions, my husband gave my daughter an assignment to call the nursery before they closed at 6 p.m. the next day.

Setting SMART goals

What are the steps for setting goals? I’ve written and taught clients about SMART goals as they relate to climbing mountains, so I know that to make and accomplish a goal you need to keep it:

Specific – plant three ever-bearing raspberry bushes in time to have fall fruit
Measurable – provide a quantitative assessment so you know when you’ve achieved it
Action-oriented – break the goal into small steps such as preparing the soil, calling about products and prices, acquiring plants, putting them in the ground
Realistic – make sure you have time and means, then follow through
Time-stamped – provide a deadline, IN WRITING, to commit.

In this case, if she wanted any chance of having berries this year, she had to follow through before the end of the week. She had the steps and support she needed, now she just needed a nudge. Were we missing anything?

Internal Resistance

It turns out that the SMART acronym does NOT address everything. What about a person’s internal resistance? Wanting something to change but also not wanting it at the same time? That was all on me.

I tried to focus on the positives: how walking her through a small project like this might spill over into large, seemingly insurmountable tasks like choosing a college, hunting for a job, finding an apartment. My husband had been the spearhead behind starting our company, twenty-three years ago, launching our extensive home remodel fifteen years ago, our yard project ten years ago, and planning most of our international vacations. He is a master planner. I’m more of a pantser–in writing terminology, someone who flies by the seat of my pants rather than outlining or plotting. (Not, as my teen pointed out, someone who yanks down pants!)

Part of the reason I felt compelled to start a blog all by myself was to own my path, to get myself unstuck, and to prove to myself that I can develop a growth mindset in other areas of my life. Why not teach that exact same process to our daughter? Today, she could be planting raspberry bushes; tomorrow, she might set a PR in javelin or choose the right college.

I thought about my daughter’s interest in painting a bird feeder for our yard a dozen years ago. That small interest set off a ripple effect that led to hundreds of family birding trips over the last decade. It led to my husband becoming a Master Birder through Seattle Audubon. Might her interest in growing raspberries lead to her becoming a gardener in the future or getting even more interested in science? We had to let her plant those proverbial seeds. Even if, in this case, the “seeds” were already plants.

Better yet, it might help me grow a growth mindset. Rewrite those negative messages. And if I was struggling, I could blog about the process and perhaps help others change. But the real “why” hit me after I finished my first draft of this blog post: Could letting her grow a garden help launch me into loosening the apron strings and letting her become the capable adult we both want her to become?

Appropriate Skills

Precision Nutrition’s Psychology of Change course has a slightly different approach to goal setting. They use GSPA, or goals, skills, practices, and actions. Once you set a specific “smart” goal – whether you want to lose weight, climb a mountain, publish a book, or plant a garden – you need to develop the skills needed to reach that goal.

For example, if you want to climb a mountain, you will need a different skill set than someone who runs marathons. While both require endurance, mountaineering involves carrying an overnight pack for many hours, over multiple days, on varied terrain with substantial elevation gain and loss. Distance runners often think climbing to the summit of a 14er will be easy… until they realize training only for endurance doesn’t yield success. What skills do you need to reach your goal?

In the case of gardening, a few of the skills we needed to teach our daughter were:

Physicality – ability to dig dry soil, water plants, weed without getting prickled, and return things where they belong (are you laughing? then you don’t have a teenager!)
Curiosity – ability to seek answers or ask questions of those who may know more than you
Beginner’s mindset – ability to admit you don’t know everything (still laughing? see number one) and be willing to fail and learn from it

Right Practices

Someone writing a book will need the practice (i.e. habit) of consistently writing, even if that’s fifteen minutes a day. A person with a mountaineering goal will need to include strength training, pack carrying (i.e. hiking), alpine skills, and aerobic training. A gardener needs to develop observation skills by visiting the plants daily and learning about soil, leaf color, insects, and weeds. And all of these goals require patience.

Someone trying to develop a growth mindset needs to question those niggling thoughts racing through their mind. Is this truth? Where did I get this idea? Can I explore other ideas? If I believed this thought to be false, what might I replace it with?

In short, to replace a fixed mindset with a growth mindset, we need to be open to opportunities that can teach us to expand our horizons, try new things, and embrace making mistakes.

Bite-Sized Actions

What small actions can you take today to move toward your goal, whatever it may be? If you want to climb a mountain but you haven’t exercised consistently in months, can you start with regular walks around your neighborhood? If you already walk, can you try a short hike? If you can hike, can you add weight to your pack? Can you experiment with more elevation gain or maintain a faster pace?

If your goal is to summit Mt. Rainier, break it down to the skills, practices, and actions a person would need to succeed. If you want to start a blog, figure out what you will write about, how often you will post, and learn about web hosting options and writing software. Commit to a time each day to write. If you want to plant a garden, figure out what you want to plant, who has garden knowledge who would be willing to talk to you, and then acquire the seeds or starter plants and plant them.

On change

Change is hard, but it is not rocket science. Goal setting can be motivating. Getting past ambivalence and following through can be very challenging, especially when you are trying to relinquish control. I’m not proud of the fact that I have been a helicopter parent at times. I’m trying very hard to change that.

Try asking yourself why you want what you want. Ask yourself again, why is that important? Four more times, ask WHY until you touch on your deep core values and know what you’re really after. In this case, we are after an independent, self-assured child who can confidently head off to college in a year. Scary how much we still have to teach.

For me, despite my initial reservations about her project, buying into planting a raspberry patch meant providing my daughter with valuable life skills she can use for any goal. My husband and daughter worked hard on this project. My part? Merely the photographer. Once I saw the beaming smile on her face, I knew that letting her follow through with this was the right decision. Will the plants bear fruit? Will they survive the drought? Will they produce in coming years? Does it really matter?

Denis Waitley put it much more eloquently: “The greatest gifts you can give your children are the roots of responsibility and the wings of independence.” We already had the proverbial bird lesson covered (wings); we needed to get to the roots (via gardening.) My heartfelt gratitude to my daughter and husband for reminding me, in a bite-sized lesson, exactly what this blog is about: roots and wings and finding the courage to change.

Finding Empowerment on the Wallace Lake Loop Trail

In May 2020, when the state of Washington’s governor Jay Inslee reopened public hiking trails, my options were to hike alone with my dog Ajax, or hike with him and one person. Lucky for me, Ajax is a wonderful hiking partner, and the two of us have done dozens of hikes together during the past eighteen months, even if I couldn’t find a human companion. Our trip to Wallace Lake included a close friend.

I treasure trips I take with a human buddy. Like all of my visits to the Woodland Park Zoo, I always learn something new from our conversations. On August 3, 2021, we joined a close friend and her dog to explore Wallace Lake loop, a nine-mile loop in a Washington State Park off US Highway 2. We headed upward along the wooded Greg Ball trail, a gently ascending path built in the memory of the gentleman who launched the trail maintenance program within the Washington Trails Association. This blog post highlights some of the topics of conversation we had about moving forward.

EMPOWERMENT

One of our topics inevitably turned to a discussion of my recently launched blog. I mentioned the term empowerment and how successes in one area of your life often bleed into others.

The evening I launched my blog, I received an email from a former client who was getting discouraged about some tough challenges. Remembering our tumultuous history, I could have deleted the message, but instead, I paused and thought about the confidence I’d gained during my recent success. Perhaps I could try something different.

And I did: I sent her some carefully thought-out suggestions for ideas she could think about with no strings attached. After all, if I could branch out in a new direction and launch a blog on my own, what else might I be able to do if I just tried?

Similarly, if you reflect on areas of your life that are working well, what are some of the skills you used to get there? What are some of the tasks you routinely do that others find useful, maybe even important? Is there some way to use those same skills and strengths in a different area of your life where you might not feel as satisfied (yet), in order to make progress?

Finding Empowerment on the Wallace Lake Loop Trail — Courtenay and her dog Ajax pause for some smooches in front of one of the Wallace Falls.

CREATIVE DISCOVERY THROUGH PLANTAR FASCIITIS

As we continued beyond the lake to the falls we’d visited months earlier in April, our conversation turned to another exercise I’d experienced during a horrendously debilitating case of plantar fasciitis years ago. Because it had hurt even to walk, I spent a lot of time that summer writing. I even tried a journaling technique that involved getting in touch with different parts of my body.

The voice of my brain was one color of ink, my heart, another; I used a third for my injured foot, a fourth for my inner critic, a fifth for my gut instincts, and a sixth for the sane, adult part of my brain which, when not stressed, remains in harmony with the rest of me. My task? To let each part of my body “talk” to one another on the page.

I laugh now because as the colors battled for time on the page, my sane, adult voice pretty remained silent until all the others had their say. My injured foot insisted, “I’m putting my foot down. No more exercising. I need rest. And if I have to shut the rest of you down to get it, so be it.”

What I learned from that journal exchange was that the self-inflicted overuse injury was my body’s way of demanding recovery. Ever since, I’ve insisted that my athletes adhere to active recovery (or rest) days in their programs, even if they think daily hard training is the answer.

If you experience a physical limitation or injury or are dealing with something holding you back, consider asking the obstacle what role it is playing in your life.

Is there an addiction or bad habit you’d like to replace? While every habit or addiction is there for some reason, whenever you outgrow that reason, it’s time to look at how it served you and how another habit might work better for you.

If you can come to terms with whatever your block is trying to tell you, instead of getting mad at yourself because you are stuck, you might be able to start taking the necessary steps to move forward.

ROLE-PLAYING USING TWO EMPTY CHAIRS

Icky, sticky situations can provide challenges for anyone, but especially for those of us who tend to be more introverted. Another technique I’ve learned from various parenting classes is role-playing but by yourself. Whether you need to have a crucial conversation with a spouse or partner, address a child with some tough love, or talk to a friend or colleague about how you’re being treated, this technique may help.

Sit in a chair with another facing you, and state your side of the story to the empty chair as simply and concisely as you can. Take a deep breath and then switch to the opposite chair and try to imagine how the other person you want to address might react to your comments. What would their body language reveal? How would they look at you? What would their voice sound like? Really “listen” to what the other person might say or how they might react.

Then return to the first chair and respond. Bring up as many obstacles as possible so you can practice your reaction. Change up the dialog and situation until you feel better prepared for the unexpected. Like the multiple color pens exercise, this one allows the exploration of different options in a safe environment and can provide powerful insights.

RIPPLE EFFECT

As we rejoined the masses of people (and their dogs) who were making their way upward to the lower, middle, and upper falls as we descended, I had a chance to contemplate the way conversations ripple outward to and through whoever is sharing information. If one of my hiking buddies or clients finds something that I say to be useful, I want to send it out to others.

If someone reading my blog finds the information to be helpful, they might share it with others. In that way, the thoughts I share in my small corner of the universe have the power to ripple outward, just like a stone in a puddle or pond. May the exercises suggested above move through you to invoke change and provide upward and forward momentum.

Muggy and Buggy: Is Granite Mountain the Right Path?

Hikes and Trips: August 1, 2021

Muggy and Buggy: Is Granite Mountain the Right Path? — Courtenay Schurman with Mt. Rainier in the background from the lookout tower on Granite Mountain. Photo by Tonia Olson, July 2020.

While hiking up Granite Mountain early on the first of August, 2021, I pondered publishing my first blog post and what it meant to reach such a monumental goal. I also mulled over Robert Frost’s poem, The Road Not Taken, and how we choose our various paths in life.

The day began as a hike to Island and Talapus Lakes. I mistook the faint orange haze for low clouds, but as soon as my dog Ajax and I got out of the car, I could smell and taste smoky particulate matter. Wildfires burning in eastern Washington. Although eight other cars sat in the parking lot, we didn’t see anyone stirring as we set out at 6:15.

The Hike

Near the one-mile signpost indicating a choice between Pratt Lake or Granite Mountain, I recalled the last time we’d hiked Granite. In July 2020, Ajax overheated and needed several rests as we descended. He’d completed several double-digit hikes this year with no trouble. Mileage wasn’t the issue. Would he do okay in cooler conditions? Should we try again?

I sent a quick text to my husband telling him we were at the same exit but headed for Granite, not Island. “Go for a little while;” I told myself. “If the air quality deteriorates, you can always turn around.” It turns out we were choosing the road more traveled, but we didn’t know that at the time.

At the upper reaches of an avalanche gully, I could make out the hazy outline of the mountains across the valley. We would not be rewarded with a view of Mt. Rainier even if we reached the summit. I heard a loud CRACK in the gully above and behind us and whipped around to see quaking branches.

A Bear?

Only one thing makes such noise: a foraging bear. I quickly turned to see Ajax on high alert, about to give chase. I grunted my special “No” signal with no onomatopoeic equivalent except an obnoxious doorbell. “Stay close,” I called to Ajax, followed by “bear, bear” at regular intervals until we completed the gully crossing and reached the woods on the other side.

No turning back now.

Fortunately, we never spotted the source of the noise and I forgot all about it as we side-stepped the ascending masses later that morning.

In the meadow, Ajax trapped a chipmunk below a cracked granite rock. I snapped on his leash to coax him past. Several minutes later, when he was once again off-leash, a marmot sounded an alert call and Ajax gave chase. When he returned to my side panting heavily, I rewarded him with more leash time until we left the meadow.

Lessons Learned

We beat our record for the shortest time at the summit – ten minutes – because the bugs were horrendous. I made myself several promises, to:

Hike mid-week for the rest of the summer to avoid hordes of people and dogs.
Keep Ajax’s leash on anywhere bears, marmots, or picas could be, as well as dogs.
Visit Granite in the early season (when snow means flowers–and bugs–aren’t plentiful yet) or late season (when it’s cooler, with more breezes, clearer views, and fewer people hiking). Trip reports on WTA are of great help with planning.
Stick to the objectives that I set when I leave the house, or else call and leave a voice message. It turns out my text never got sent, so nobody knew I had changed our destination. Nobody knew where we were if we’d run into trouble — with a bear, with a tired dog, with smoke inhalation problems or dehydration. Dangerous practice.

The Best Part

This hike was a celebration outing for launching my first blog post. But my favorite part of the day was adding a mile in the forest after we finished Granite. Instead of turning left to return to the trailhead, we continued right. We visited several lovely stream crossings, with fewer people, no bugs, and a place to sit and enjoy a peaceful snack.

I thought about journeys and destinations, and about how Body Results clients come to me with a specific objective in mind, some of whom feel immense disappointment if they don’t reach that goal. One of my unconscious objectives for the day had been to provide a shaded hike with streams for Ajax to cross and drink from. By choosing a hotter, drier route, did I neglect him? In my defense, I carried extra water; we took frequent breaks to eat, drink, and sniff; and he enjoyed chasing critters and meeting other people and dogs.

Perhaps I neglected myself?

Take-away

As in life, when we’re thrown curveballs (like hazy skies, poor air quality, thrashing bears, or swarming bugs), we need to go with the flow, change plans mid-stride, adjust to whatever we encounter. I’ll take that as the biggest lesson on my path to a growth mindset: Enjoy — and learn from — the journey, not just the destination. The mountains are wonderful teachers. Perhaps that’s one of the reasons I’m pulled outside again and again: to learn what Mother Nature has to teach me.

So while Granite Mountain may not have been the best choice for us on August first, whenever I learn something from an outing (whether it’s to the mountains, a new country, the local zoo, or a critique group meeting) it is the right path. And if it’s the path less chosen, then it also provides me with an education. A win-win.

A Poem to Launch a New Blog: Seattle Sounds

It’s July 2021 and I am finally launching my new blog as a companion to Body Results, Inc. It’s been seven years in the making. I don’t know what the year holds for me, but I am willing to roll with it, accept and encourage change, and learn about the wonderfully complex world of writing, managing, and keeping a weekly blog.

To kick off the year, and provide a snapshot of where we’re starting this journey, I share a poem about sounds in Seattle during the pandemic. I call it, simply,

Seattle Sounds

The Snowy Plover symbolizes the power of the tiniest voice to cause ripples of change for many. May my blog create ripples.

Pandemic Absences…

Schoolkids laughing

three blocks away

(they’re all inside for

remote learning)

Glassdoor sliding

as my partner leaves for work

(he’s working from home

indefinitely)

Intermittent reminders

from my watch alarm

(with no place to go,

no need to set it)

Neighbor dogs barking

at curious passers-by

(as air quality fails,

none venture outside)

Roofers nail-gunning;

arborists trimming trees

(all outside work stops

while our forests burn)

Is this the new normal?

Constant companions…

A cacophony of crows

cah cah cah

(More peanuts, please)

Anna’s hummingbirds crackling

chzee chzee chzee

(Drink from the spray)

Red-breasted nuthatches honking

mep mep mep

(Seeds, follow me)

Black-capped chickadees chanting

dee dee dee

(Cold bathing water)

Northern flickers calling

fwicka fwicka fwicka

(I found fresh suet)

The backyard fountain

burbles and gurgles

calming my many anxieties.

Who – or what — defines normal?

One of our favorite birds, the pileated woodpecker.

A year later…

Exit a global pandemic

enter wildfire season

Reopen the world

resume the chaos

reimagine zoos and schools

revisit trails and people

return to parks and places

restart habits and hobbies

Mother Earth heals.

She also requires healing–

our help, vigilance, protection.

What have we learned?

Listen, look, notice

pay attention

to our constant companions

before it’s too late.

New blog, a new path, new me.