CourtSchurmanGO.com 2025-06-24

How to Notice and Name in Life and in Birding

My husband and I spent a week near South Padre Island, TX witnessing spring migration. Between the two of us, we shot 5000 photos and identified 175 unique bird species. Just as “notice and name” is an important skill in birding, it’s also a crucial life skill when facing change. To change any habits, you need to notice whenever you’re doing a particular action so that you can name what purpose it serves — or decide how to change it.

These blooms in South Texas reminded me of bottle brushes. I laughed when I learned that is what they are called.

This week, I highlight three of the 35 new life bird species we had the privilege of seeing: the Southern Lapwing, the Mottled Owl, and the Bay-Breasted Warbler. With each story, I share tie-in examples of a life of embracing and accepting change.

Southern Lapwing

On Saturday, April 21, we visited the Llano Grande Resort and Golf Club golf course in Mercedes, TX. We wanted to spot the southern lapwing. Common in South America, they have a black breast, white belly, gray head, and bronzy shoulder. To see a bird in Texas that never strays north of Guatemala would be amazing.

We joined 15-20 other folks with big camera lenses, tripods, and spotting scopes. An employee at the resort’s front desk told us that someone had seen it on the back nine holes. My husband started a phone tree with the other birders in hopes that the first person who found the bird would let everyone else know they’d spotted it. “Team birding” in action.

Southern Lapwing on the fairway. This shorebird is common in South America but had never been seen in North America before. — Southern Lapwing on the fairway. This shorebird is common in South America but has never been seen in North America before.

Team Birding in Action

Several people rented golf carts for $25. My husband and I preferred to walk. Within twenty minutes, his phone lit up with “We found it!” Drivers in two golf carts raced our way. The woman in the first one picked me up and the man in the second one picked up my husband. As we rushed to the fairway, I prayed the lapwing wouldn’t fly off before we could see it.

Then, voila! We shot photos and celebrated with the other six who found it, until WHAACK! A group of tournament players sent their balls down the fairway. One ball rolled to within ten yards of the bird. Startled, it flew off toward a pond.

Determined to keep our eyes on it so that our friend and his daughter, who were still thirty minutes away, would see it, we followed it. Minutes after our friend’s arrival, the bird flew again, this time disappearing from the golf course.

Notice and Name 1: Get Help

To locate the southern lapwing, we needed help. Others had spotted it days before we did, reporting to Ebird so we knew to look for it. The man in the office knew where the bird liked to hang out. One of the birders was a tour guide with years of experience in the area. And we had twenty additional sets of eyes looking for it.

Likewise, when we are trying to change our habits or behaviors, we benefit from the knowledge and wisdom of people who have made the same change we want to make. We can hire a trainer or coach who knows how to get to the summit of a high mountain or ride in a century. To learn a foreign language we can find a native speaker to practice with. And if a friend gets a cool job, we can ask them how they did it.

A stunning male Baltimore Oriole in breeding plumage. It was one of dozens attracted to orange slices set up in a 4-plot preserve on South Padre Island, an area we referred to as "Sheepshead" after the street's name. The plot was designated and reclaimed for migrating birds. — A stunning male Baltimore Oriole in breeding plumage. It was one of dozens attracted to orange slices set up in a 4-plot preserve on South Padre Island, an area we referred to as “Sheepshead” after the street’s name. The plot was designated and reclaimed for migrating birds.

Coaches, teachers, counselors, and medical professionals all have substantial wisdom and knowledge. But first, we must WANT to change. We must be ready, willing, and able to take action on our behalf, even when it gets hard. Just as my husband and I actively targeted this particular bird, whenever we face change, we notice and name what we no longer want but then figure out what we do want.

Mottled Owl in a Thunderstorm

Later that same evening, we drove west for more than two hours to join a guided nocturnal tour on the 88,000-acre Santa Margarita Ranch. At 9 p.m. when we started walking in the dark, we sweated in the 88-degree heat and humidity. We caught our second rarity, a mottled owl. This medium-sized owl is found from Mexico to Brazil, with rare visitations to Texas.

The blaring sounds of thousands of cane toads and crickets drowned out the sounds of our footsteps as we traipsed wordlessly across two thin sandy tracks. Growing clouds quickly obscured the full moon. A storm approached, adding urgency to our trek. We found it challenging to notice and name species around us when we hardly see our feet, but we soon adapted to night vision.

A male indigo bunting in breeding plumage was another of my daytime favorites at the Sheepshead location on South Padre Island.

We walked in pitch-blackness except for the few minutes it took to cross the clearing near The Wall along the Mexican border. My internal storyteller pictured crossing the border to freedom in the middle of the night. Flashes of lightning lit up the skies for miles, startling me with their intensity.

Calling Him In

After forty minutes without a single word from any of us, one of the two guides halted our group of 15 and directed us into a semi-circle, whispering, “I’ll call him in. Get ready.” We stood still, poised, cameras aimed upward, as the thunder rolled around us and sweat dripped into my eyes. Though I longed to chug from my water bottle, I feared gulping might prevent the owl from visiting. Worse, it might make the others blame me.

Suddenly, a beacon of light flashed in the air. There! The owl only stayed for a few seconds before darting back into the shadows. We’d found our second rarity on the same day.

The Mottled Owl looks as startled to see us as we were to see it.

The return walk, equally devoid of chatter, no longer felt charged with anticipation. Instead, I found myself wondering if the storm would catch us. Our evening symphony included 6 eastern screech owls, 2 great horned owls, a bobwhite (which happens to sound exactly like its namesake), 11 common pauraques, 2 yellow-billed cuckoos, and 2 common nighthawks. And when we finally reached the cars, the rain had not yet started. It would cause a 25-degree drop in temperature, making birding more enjoyable Sunday morning.

Notice and Name 2: Overcome Obstacles

I’ve thought of that night several times since. When we’re in the thick of change, we can feel like we’re lost in a dense forest with deafening noise (other people, offers, struggles, obstacles, you name it) trying to distract us and capture our attention. The trick is to continue to focus on what matters.

Notice and name is a strategy used in both birding and change. These half dozen ducklings tooled around near South Padre Island's mangroves. — Notice and name is a strategy used in both birding and change. These half dozen ducklings tooled around near South Padre Island’s mangroves.

Whenever you start to feel overwhelmed, pause. Notice and name what you’re feeling. Then think about all the tools available to you. People who can help. Your previous successes and superpowers, as I mentioned in my last post. Give up the need to know exactly how to get from point A to B and trust that it will. More importantly, notice and name the stories that get in your way.

Bay-Breasted Warbler

The third highlight this week is the breeding male Bay-Breasted Warbler. At least a third of our 40 hours of birding were done at a small site called the Valley Land Fund Lots on South Padre Island. It includes four properties that have been repurposed to attract migrating birds, especially warblers. I was impressed by the diversity of birds in such a small area. Such diversity brings lots of people. I soon found myself overwhelmed and wandered the perimeter where I could peer in peace.

I shot a photo of a pretty, distinct-looking bird I hadn’t yet seen. Cornell describes it as having a “dark-streaked back, butter-yellow neck patch, black mask, and a rich dark bay color on the crown, throat, and flanks.” He tended to stay still longer than all the other warblers; perhaps that’s what made him my favorite. I noted his unique coloring, but I couldn’t yet identify it. Who might be able to notice and name it?

A lovely male bay-breasted warbler peers at me as though wondering what all the fuss was. — A stunning male bay-breasted warbler peers at me as though wondering what all the fuss was.

As soon as our birding friend identified it, he insisted I show him where I’d seen it. I realized I’d spotted an important bird. Within minutes of leading him to my find, a dozen others with long lenses came to look. In Yellowstone National Park when people stop their cars to gawk at black bears, we refer to such groups as “bear jams.” In this case, I caused a “bird jam.”

A "bird jam" I caused around the bay-breasted warbler. — A “bird jam” I caused around the bay-breasted warbler.

Notice and Name 3: Shine and Share

This third bird taught me two important lessons. First: shine – by being yourself and going about what you do best. This tiny bird had just migrated from gosh knows where. He encountered a thunderstorm the night before and was tired, hungry, and thirsty. His sole mission was to find enough food so he could continue to his final destination and start a new family.

Likewise, I’m a wildlife enthusiast and writer. I capture my experiences in photos and words. When I notice and name my abilities and skills, and enjoy them myself, others get to benefit from them. If I can supply readers with a fraction of the wonder and joy I experienced, I will have done what I intended.

A breeding male black-throated green warbler, another East Coast migrator.

And second, share with the world. These birds share their beauty simply by flying massive distances and touching down to rest. By bringing these three birds to your attention, I realize that I am a teacher. I may not stand up in front of a classroom every day, but when I hike or bird with friends, when I write a blog post or newsletter article, or when I coach an online session, I shine my light of knowledge and hope for others.

Summer Update

I will be creating new blogs less frequently from now until July 25. At that time, I hope to have completed the NBC-HWC coaching exam and will return to weekly posts. If you have a burning question or a comment about this or other posts, please share it below.

How to Find Balance on the Trail and in Life

Last Thursday, Ajax and I started up the Old Si trail around 6:30 a.m. via the Little Si trailhead. I’d received some uplifting health news the day before, and I wanted to challenge myself beyond Squak, Cougar, and Tiger Mountains. This week, I explore how to find balance on the trail and in life against the backdrop of photos from the Old Si trail.

Our hiking route took us from the lower left corner (Little Si) around the Boulder Garden Loop Trail to the Old Si Trail and all the way to the Teneriffe Connector, where we turned around. — The ascent: our hiking route took us from the lower left corner (Little Si) around the Boulder Garden Loop Trail to the Old Si Trail and up to the Teneriffe Connector Trail, where we turned around.

The Ascent: Find Balance One Step at a Time

The Old Si trail meanders through the Boulder Garden Loop before continuing steeply toward Si’s summit. The trail intersects with the “new” trail in two spots. It helps to pay attention to make sure you’re on the right path.

During the hike, two things stood out:

The absence of people: Very few people were hiking the Old Si trail. It was a beautiful midweek morning in April. Mt. Si is one of the most popular hikes near Seattle. Except for eight hikers going up as we descended, we had the upper mountain completely to ourselves.
The unrelenting steepness: Old Si has exposed root-filled sections and is steeper than I remember from the last time I hiked it a few years ago. It’s likely why people choose the longer, more gently graded, and newer Mt. Si route. Hikers who enjoy the steep old trail on Mailbox, or the Cable/Section trails on Tiger Mountain, would love it.

A particularly rooted and steep section of the Old Si trail reminded me of parts of trails to Mailbox and Rachel Lake. Such steep trails require that hikers repeatedly find balance, similar to life when faced with countless obstacles.

Drawing Parallels To Life

After forty-some years of hiking, I implicitly trust my bodily-kinesthetic and natural-environmental superpowers. (Identify your superpowers here.) Whenever the trail gets steep, I know to slow down, take a quick break if I need one, and have alternative plans ready in case anything goes wrong. Sometimes I even speed up to get a challenging part behind me.

When I am alone, which is almost always my goal, I trust my body, my dog Ajax, my physical preparation, and four decades of wilderness experience. The mountains are my happy place.

An author selfie with Mt. Rainier in the background, taken from the summit area on Mt. Si. — An author’s selfie with Mt. Rainier in the background, taken from the summit area on Mt. Si.

However, when I look at challenges in my life, I lack the same confidence. Recently my daily “steep ascents” have included: A new health diagnosis in January (jagged boulders). Subsequent changes to my diet and training (rooty section). Updating and launching two websites (a cliff). Scrambling to find trusted pet care right before a trip (mud). The logistics of starting a second business and finding new clients (another sheer cliff). Completing coaching hours for a national credential (thick thorny brush). Maintaining house chores and pet care duties while my husband coaches throws in the afternoons (slick pebbles). The list sometimes feels endless.

What Are Your Obstacles?

Pause for a moment to think about the obstacles in your path. What challenges are you facing? How do you face them? Do you avoid tasks or charge forward? Maybe you pause and approach with caution or race in the opposite direction. Or perhaps you ignore them and hope they’ll disappear. How might you face them that would be more loving toward yourself and productive?

On the trail, I confidently take the next step forward. In life, however, I sometimes become a deer in the headlights or an ostrich burying my head in the sand, neither of which is helpful. Such fight, flight, or freeze responses bring me to a halt until I find a way past feelings of overwhelm.

My analogy breaks down a little bit in that on a trail we usually have two choices: forward or back. In life, we have so many obstacles and challenges thrown at us that it might look a little like this sign covered in stickers. But the approach, TAKE THE NEXT STEP, still holds.

Here’s the tricky thing: Whenever I challenge myself to grow and try new things, as I’ve been doing since starting this blog in July 2021, I’m constantly exploring an ever-expanding world I no longer — or don’t yet — know. The trail seems to shift under my feet like quicksand. Day-to-day life is not predictable. Injuries, illnesses, job challenges, relationship issues — all these things place us in the middle of an overgrown path we’ve never traveled before.

Identify Your Superpowers

So why do we expect that we can immediately solve our problems in such changing times? I’m trying to trust my innate wisdom and guidance like I already do experiences on the trail. Both require faith, endurance, and resilience. I’m also focusing on my superpowers — bodily-kinesthetic, natural-environmental, verbal-linguistic, and self-interior — rather than my shortcomings.

I help clients become aware of their skills, strengths, special talents, and superpowers so they can focus on and expand them, rather than getting down on themselves because of perceived weaknesses. If we concentrate on the negatives, we’ll always see more negatives. By concentrating on what we do WELL, we cultivate, grow, and see more good.

The Summit: I Find Balance and Moments of Clarity

At the two-hour mark, we spotted our first snow in a wooded patch right before we reached the rocky summit area. The rocks are where most people stop for a snack before heading down. Despite the steepness of the route, I felt pleased with our performance. Time to grab a snack and check out the views.

The parallel to life’s challenges is not lost on me: when we’re in the midst of struggle, we can lose sight of where we’re headed. But when we arrive at our destination and look back, we realize that although we might have been off target for much of the time, we eventually got where we wanted to go. Maybe not exactly as we expected, but the endurance and resilience we’ve built from other experiences have given us the fortitude to keep trying.

The Glory of the Views

The first view of Mt. Rainier due south stole my breath away. I grinned at the bands of lenticular clouds wisping across her flanks. I felt like calling hi to a friend I hadn’t seen in a while. A little farther along, we reached a pair of benches where I dropped my pack, got out some kibble and water for my dog Ajax, and had some cashews and a protein shake. We listened for chipmunks, jays, and other birds while admiring the views of North Bend and Puget Sound. I marveled at the miracle of having such a popular peak all to ourselves. Where is everyone, I asked myself.

A calm peace came over me as I tugged on a long-sleeved shirt and down jacket to ward off the inevitable chill of an April breeze. Hiking in the wilderness is as close to paradise as I can get. I remembered the fist-in-the-air elation I felt when I completed my 50th coaching session. Or when I received the good health news.

When our pet sitters agreed to host Ajax for a week of travel, or I landed some new clients, I felt similar satisfaction. But all the “life” examples rely on interactions with other people. With solo hiking, my results were completely under my power. Succeeding in the mountains gives me a way to find balance when I feel like things are overwhelming.

Anytime Ajax is sick, injured, or compromised in his care in some way, I face a huge obstacle. It's almost like having a sick child. — Anytime Ajax is sick, injured, or compromised in his care in some way, I face a huge obstacle. It’s almost like having a sick child.

In the words of my spiritual coach, Tama Kieves, abundance invites abundance. All the work, worry, and effort of taking one step in front of another paid off. Successes in life and hiking converged. A moment of peace, well deserved.

The Descent: Return to Comfort and Familiarity

After our brief pause, we headed north toward the Mt. Teneriffe Connector trail to explore other vantage points, but the ice made it hard to find balance. I decided we’d save Teneriffe for another day and explore more in the Boulder Garden Loop. We turned back knowing the mountains would shed their snow in another month or so.

About 20 minutes past the snowy area, a group of 8 hikers under heavy packs slowly made their way up the steep trail. We stepped aside to let them pass. “You’re up here early,” one hiker said. Just the way I like it, I thought. Another woman told her companion that they’d go down the gentler Si trail so they wouldn’t have to suffer as much on the way down. She commented on how WHITE my dog was and I simply smiled, knowing how muddy he can get when the trail is covered in puddles instead of snow.

Beyond the main Si route toward Teneriffe, the trail is still covered with hard-packed snow and ice. Microspikes will help you find balance.

As we made our way down the trail, I listened intently for birds I might have missed on the way up. I shared things I’m grateful for with Ajax. When we reached the Boulder Garden Loop, I heard a purple finch. Having heard the same bird on our way up, I thought to myself, “I bet when I come down I’ll have to look him up again on Merlin.” Sure enough. Practice makes … better. Experience teaches us.

Trail and Life Skills In Parallel

Some of the many skills I have cultivated in the mountains — such as route finding, layering, endurance, gear management, strength, and pacing — have parallels in life. To find balance in the mountains, we need to periodize our training program to include a mixture of easy and hard outings. Likewise in life, we need to have goals we know we can achieve as well as those that stretch us. The bite-sized achievements teach us how to keep striving for those goals that are more challenging.

The trail leading up to the north side of the Haystack, a pile of rock visible for miles around at the summit of Mt. Si.

Finding your way in the mountains is akin to knowing where you want to go in life (i.e. having a goal) as well as how to get there. If you want new clients, for example, you need to know who your target clients are, what they want, and how best to connect with them to cultivate a strong relationship.

Endurance on the trail means you have the physical stamina to get where you want. In life’s challenges, we need to cultivate emotional resilience and fortitude to endure tough situations while also being patient, gentle, and forgiving of ourselves.

Finally, related to pacing: if we charge forward without thinking things through, we may burn ourselves out before we reach our destination. Sometimes a cautious, slower approach to our goals is better than flying Mach 2 with our hair on fire.

Please Share Your Challenges

Steep and challenging hikes provide a beautiful metaphor for the challenging portions of life’s journey. The more we can learn how to manage our stress, pace ourselves, and find balance among all our life roles, the more we can thrive during times of stress or ease. Whatever your challenge, you can overcome it.

Mossy boulder in the Boulder Garden Loop.

What obstacles are you facing as you strive to find balance? Please share your comments so we can all help and learn from each other. If you would like to schedule a free 15-minute consultation with me to see how we might collaborate contact me at either Thrive Clues or Body Results.

Surrender Control: How to Focus on Skills and Habits Instead

Sometimes life feels like it is spinning out of control. Pet care disappears before a trip. A health diagnosis or injury catches you off guard. Money issues leave you feeling unprepared. Worries pile up. An event ends with a different outcome than you expected. It happens. What if you surrender control, and instead, focus on the habits you need to acquire and skills you need to develop to reach your goals?

New signs on the Whittaker Wilderness Peak Trail.

Whittaker Wilderness and Doughty Falls

Last week, Ajax, a hiking friend, and I visited Whittaker Wilderness Peak adding a loop including Shy Bear Pass to Doughty Falls. Our trip started great. We were first on the trail, with beautiful weather, upbeat moods, and time at the summit to grab a snack and sign the summit registry before continuing to explore Cougar Mountain.

But I overestimated how much mileage she could safely handle, leaving her dehydrated, in pain, and overly tired. A little less than a mile from the trailhead, I left her resting to dash back to the car with Ajax and bring her extra water. The word she used at the end of our hike was “miserable.”

A selfie at Doughty Falls, what my daughter called "Doughty Trickle" in July when there is no running water. — A selfie at Doughty Falls, what my daughter called “Doughty Leak” in July when there is no running water.

I shared posts about this particular trail in How to Assess Your Progress (June 2023) and Expect the Unexpected (July 2023). In both, the outcome was far from optimal. Is it me or the trail? Am I trying too hard to control the outcome, choosing what feels easy (to me) to gently push my partners – my dog, my daughter, my friend – into more mileage than they’re ready for?

The Essence of Control

When you think of control, what comes to mind? The vanilla definition of control is “the power to influence or direct people’s behavior or the course of events.” Many of my clients mention feeling “out of control” around food, or not being able to exercise because of “situations beyond their control.” What makes you lose control?

We have no control over how our hiking partners do, but we can help them develop the right skills such as pacing, fueling, hydration, gear selection, and more, to improve their outcomes.

Now it’s your turn to explore your ideas and feelings about control. Please jot down some notes for the following questions:

The Illusion of Control

Reflect on a moment when you felt completely in control. What elements were actually under your control, and what elements were not? Precision Nutrition has a worksheet called the Spheres of Control that might help you explore what areas of your life you have control over and which you don’t.

Trilliums are starting to bloom in the mountains! A sure sign of spring. We have zero control over the weather, but 100% control over where we choose to live.

Surrender Control

Think about a time you had no choice but to surrender control. How did it make you feel, and what was the outcome? Did other people around you seem to have control, and if so, over what? What did you learn from the experience? If you had to do it again, what would you do differently?

Surrender Control in Physical Challenges

In February of 2024, I shared a post on process and outcome goals. In physical challenges, an outcome goal might be “summit Mt. Rainier” over which we have little control. A process goal might include “carry a pack with increasing weight over increasing distance and elevation gain weekly” over which we have more control.

When you consider physical challenges like a hike, you can’t control the weather, but you can control the route you choose. You can control who you hike with, but not how they do.

I think I have voice control over Ajax, but that is an illusion. What we have is a bonded trust that comes from 7 years of hiking together. He loves to hike with me; he also loves being off-leash. He knows he will lose that freedom if he goes too far away from me. — I think I have voice control over Ajax, but that is an illusion. What we have is a bonded trust that comes from 7 years of hiking together. He loves to hike with me. But he also loves being off-leash. He knows he will lose that freedom if he goes too far away from me.

The Body’s Limits and the Mind’s Role

Now it’s your turn. Recall a physically challenging experience. This might include facing a goal that pushed you past previous limits. Getting a physical diagnosis that shocked you into changing your actions. Recovering from an injury or illness that required a lot from you both physically and mentally.

Did you listen to your body’s signals, or did your mind push you to ignore them? What might that say about your relationship with control? Use the Sphere of Control exercise if it helps.

I often surrender control over timing Ajax's breaks. Here he supplies himself with a drink of water when he's thirsty. — I often surrender control over timing Ajax’s breaks. Here he supplies himself with a drink of water when he’s thirsty.

Preparation vs. Adaptation

Consider how preparation for an event (like training for a mountain climb, hike, or triathlon) differs from adapting in the moment. Which do you lean towards, and how does that affect your sense of control? If you have a physical goal in mind, how much of your preparation relies on gaining skills? on creating consistent habits that will help you get ready?

How much depends on luck and “winging it?” What would it feel like to surrender control over some aspect of preparation for a physical goal?

Ajax and C. cross one of several boardwalks through the Shy Bear Pass loop on Cougar Mountain.

Surrender Control in Relationships

The last two aspects of control include supporting others and impact on well-being.

Supporting vs. Controlling

One of the trickiest parts about being a coach rather than a personal trainer is to surrender control to the client. For 25 years as a personal trainer, I got used to asking for two more repetitions or telling clients what exercise they would do next. A good coach, on the other hand, remains client-centered and asks what the client feels they need.

Personal trainers control the environment, the workout, and in that regard, the outcome. Coaches are collaborators, equal partners, and guides. As I grapple with evolving into a 100% coach, that line blurs when I need to hold firm.

Fern-covered boulder, an erratic from the glacier age?

Reflect on a time when you had to support someone else through a challenge. How did you balance offering support without taking control away from them? What might you do differently to surrender control that isn’t yours in the first place?

The Role of Control in Wellness

This morning I have a medical appointment I’ve been nervous about for a few days. I have no control over the outcome of the tests. But I do have control over two things: my reaction and the actions I take beyond today.

I have overcome every physical challenge I’ve faced in the past fifty years, including natural childbirth, healing broken bones, removing unhealthy addictive behaviors, and coping with unexpected health diagnoses. Whatever new information I learn, I know I will continue to make the best choices possible.

A selfie with my best hiking pal, Ajax, near the junction at Whittaker Wilderness Peak.

Your turn. How does your desire for control impact your wellness journey? Does it stress you out? Could you surrender control to lead to greater well-being?

Take-Aways about Control

This week I’ve continued to rewrite my control stories. My hiking partner hiked solo this week, reclaiming her power and succeeding on a trail that challenged her a few months ago. By being willing to teach her, I’m also learning from her.

By focusing on controlling the actions we take (our process goals), we can influence our outcomes. We can’t control others’ performance, but we can support them so they have a more comfortable experience. Likewise, we can’t control how our bodies do on a given day, but we can acquire skills around proper hydration, physical training, gear selection, fueling, recovery, and pacing to enhance the outcome.

Skunk Cabbage is blooming on Cougar Mountain.

Feel free to explore your reactions to these prompts in your journaling or reflection practice and share any insights in the comments so that we can all benefit, learn, and grow.

How to Celebrate Milestones in Unconventional Ways

In November, I shared ten non-food, non-cost celebrations anyone can do to mark important achievements. This week I thought again about how people celebrate and how personal such time markers are. Last week I reached a huge milestone. It involved completing fifty structured coaching sessions following certain guidelines. It moves me one step closer to becoming a nationally recognized, board-certified health and wellness coach (NBC-HWC) with only a 5-hour exam in July remaining between me and the new credential. To celebrate, I headed for the mountains with my dog. How do you celebrate milestones?

Abundant flowing water at Exit 47 on the path to Pratt Lake. Alpine trails in March look far different than they do in October!

Destination: Pratt Lake Trail

The last time I’d hiked this particular segment of the trail at Exit 47 off I-90 was in October 2021. 18 months earlier I almost injured myself during a solo hike with Ajax to Pratt and Tuscahootchie Lake. This time, I knew we’d find snow since my daughter and I visited Olallie and Talapus Lakes the week before (accessible from both Exit 45 and Exit 47). This time, my goal was Rainbow/Island Lakes (11.7 miles/3000′ gain) west of the junction that leads north to Pratt Lake. Barring that, we could try Pratt Lake (11 miles / 2300′ gain). So many possibilities!

The parallel was not lost on me. As I get closer to earning my NBHWC credential, I feel like endless possibilities are opening to me. More confidence as a coach. More clout when talking with people who might want me to coach health and wellness groups. The more skills and knowledge I acquire, the better a resource I am for my existing clients, some of whom have been with me for over a decade.

I go all out to celebrate milestones. Usually in the mountains. Tree branches bowing under the weight of new-fallen snow that all but covered the trail ahead of us. There must have been at least 4-6 inches of undisturbed new snow overnight.

This adventure was to celebrate milestones — not only what I’ve accomplished over the past year toward launching and building Thrive Clues, but also how far I’ve come in the past twenty-five years as co-owner of Body Results.

Breaking Trail

On March 28th we started our hike around 6:45 a.m., the only car parked in the lot. As we continued past the sign at .9 miles marking the Pratt Lake/Granite Mountain junction, which Ajax and I visited last October, I felt like I was returning home. The area around Exit 47 is my favorite because of the large number of accessible Alpine Lakes. No two hikes are ever the same.

I eagerly anticipated finding snow around the next bend, and the next, but we traveled at least two miles before reaching a dusting in the underbrush. At several fast-flowing streams, I pulled out my new Trail Buddy aluminum cork trekking poles to give me more confidence in my footing.

When Ajax struggled in deep snow causing him to posthole up to his belly, I knew it was time for snowshoes.

By the time we reached the Pratt-Olallie junction, we tromped through several inches of new snow. It got progressively deeper as we headed toward Pratt Lake. By the time Ajax reached snow up to his belly, I knew it was time for me to put on my MSR snowshoes and break trail.

Decision Time

My spirits soared as I trusted my route-finding skills through the snow-draped forest. Ajax knows the trail almost as well as I do, but he’s so low to the ground that I wonder whether he trusts his nose or if he looks for the “path of least resistance” that is slightly lower than the rest of the surroundings. When did the last travelers come through here?

I kept glancing behind me to make sure Ajax was with me. He followed directly behind in my snowshoe tracks. At last, I heard what I refer to as the “highest falls.” It’s a fast-running stream, the last flowing water before the overlook for Mt. Rainier and Olallie Lake and the junction between Pratt and Rainbow/Island Lakes.

When we reached the stream, a faint depression on the opposite side indicated where someone had previously traveled. However, the slope beneath me was buried and slick. Snow-covered rocks across the stream would be treacherous if I took my snowshoes off, but I couldn’t navigate the slope with them on.

What about Ajax? Without me breaking trail, he’d be standing in freezing water waiting for me. At that moment, I knew that without anyone else on the trail, we couldn’t take any unnecessary risks.

Celebrate Milestones with Plan C: Olallie Lake

I quickly came up with plan C: we’d visit Olallie Lake from the west instead of the east, as we’d done the previous week. It would still give us some new trail and a narrow log bridge to cross. But I felt sure Ajax could handle it. We turned around and retraced our snowshoe tracks toward Olallie Lake.

At the narrow log bridge that has turned me around twice before with multiple hiking partners, this time I knew what would help. I called Ajax to me and put his leash on, then followed him across the bridge. Sometimes he reminds me of a mountain goat.

Ajax scouting out the narrow log bridge. He turned around when I got his harness out and allowed me to attach it for safety.

The only tracks we found on our trip to Olallie Lake were a pair of microspikes on boots that someone must have made from Exit 45 not long before we arrived. We had the lake to ourselves. Greg, the snowman I built the previous week, was only a small mound of snow. After a snack and some water, we tried to walk around the lake but soon decided we’d be better off on the flat ground of the frozen lake itself.

Celebrate Milestones: Last Try

On our “celebrate milestones” adventure, I’d set my turn-around time as 11:30. We still had over an hour to play. Maybe we could go back to the “highest falls” to scout the stream for a way across. If nothing else, I’d shoot some more photos of the stunning landscape.

As we started up the Pratt trail a second time, I noticed my left foot was slipping around. I glanced down. Two of the straps were missing! Likewise on my right, one of the midfoot straps had snapped off. The 25-year-old straps had grown so brittle over the years, and in the cold, that they’d broken in two.

Author selfie at the"first falls" along the Pratt-Olallie trail, just about a half mile beyond the junction with the Granite Mountain trail. — Author selfie at the”first falls” along the Pratt-Olallie trail, just about a half mile beyond the junction with the Granite Mountain trail.

Gear malfunction made our decision easy: we turned around and headed for the car where, once again, I was delighted and surprised to find nobody else in the lot. We’d made a good call. I’d order new buckles and try again. On the hike out, I ran through my list of gratitudes, thanking the snow, the trail, my dog, and the snowshoes that got me as far as they did. What a great day to be alive and appreciative of the joy Mother Nature always provides.

Take-Away Lessons

What are some non-cost, non-food ways for you to celebrate milestones? My way might not be something you would enjoy. Your treats will be just as unique and unconventional for you.

In the words of Marie Kondo, what sparks joy for you? Perhaps you like to dance. Why not take a short dance party break to a favorite song? Call a friend you haven’t talked to in a while to share your good news. Take a stroll in your favorite neighborhood to collect wildflowers. Attend a “free museum day” exhibit you’ve been wanting to see.

Peace, serenity, solitude, and nature's beauty are among the top qualities I look for in a celebration. — Peace, serenity, solitude, and nature’s beauty are among the top qualities I look for in a celebration.

Celebrate milestones in a way that makes them meaningful to you. If you go from one milestone to the next without a pause to appreciate how far you’ve come, you’ll exhaust yourself. Today I celebrate my new clients. My health. Completion of one task and start of the next. Share how you celebrate milestones so we can all learn and grow.

Changing Seasons: How to Adapt on the Trails

In this week’s blog post, I contrast two recent hikes while reflecting on how the changing seasons mirror our personal growth. The first, a five-hour ramble around the summits of West Tiger Mountain, included dirt paths, songs from 18 bird species, and running streams. Familiar, as I historically am a fair-weather, 3-season hiker. On the second, my daughter joined Ajax and me for a lovely snowy visit to Olallie and Talapus Lakes. The changing seasons in the mountains provide valuable metaphors for personal adaptation and stretching outside our comfort zone to find the zest and thrills that make life worth living.

My daughter joined me and Ajax for my usual Tuesday Morning outing, a trip to Talapus and Olallie Lakes near Exit 45 off I-90 in the Cascade Mountains.

Changing Seasons, Changing Landscapes

In spring, everything in the mountains changes. Birds grace us with their songs from March to May. Lakes and streams melt, creating beautiful rushing waterfalls. Greenery bursts with early blooms. Footing evolves from the interesting and ever-changing hard-packed snow to mud and, as things eventually dry, predictable dusty trails.

And people come out in droves. When I finished my early morning St. Patrick’s Day hike on Tiger Mountain, the parking lot was packed by noon. Four cars lined up behind me, waiting to take my space. Parked cars lined the access road clear down to Frontage Road. Fortunately, sticking to less popular trails ensured a hike relatively free from people.

By contrast, on Tuesday we were the first to arrive at the trailhead for Talapus and Olallie Lakes at 9 a.m. Even at 2 when we returned to our car, there were only a couple handfuls of cars. Same lovely weather but on a weekday. Farther from the city. And in snow. Could more visits to snowy trails be the answer to enjoying the mountains without tons of people? And why is that?

My daughter and Ajax pause on the snowy trail to Olallie and Talapus Lakes on the cusp of the changing seasons.

Navigate Icy Paths and Enjoy the Winter Wonderland

In the snow, the solitude and silence were priceless. We encountered only 8 bird species compared to 20 two days earlier on Tiger. Even the air felt different. As we walked through the woods, icy pockets signaled nearby snow. How wondrous to transition onto hard-packed snow that muffled the sound around us.

On the trip out, I asked my daughter which she preferred: the same hike in the summer or this one in winter conditions. She likes Talapus Lake in the summer — if she can explore the logjam on the east end. But in the winter, when logs are covered in snow and more treacherous, she prefers Olallie Lake, with its easy access and interesting snow travel.

Each step brought us new challenges and mindfulness, whether the snow crunched underfoot and provided traction, or caused us to slip and slide. By the end of the hike, we were more savvy about picking which sections of snow would hold weight and what would lead to flailing. Obvious highlights included making snow angels, stomping a huge smile in the fresh white landscape, building a snowman named Greg, and walking across frozen Olallie Lake. Such wonderful solitude.

Ajax soaks up the sun while Brooke peers over snowman Greg's outstretched arm. The snowman only took about 15 minutes to build under near-perfect conditions. The arrival of spring reminds me of the changing seasons. — Ajax soaks up the sun while Brooke peers over snowman Greg’s outstretched arm. The snowman only took about 15 minutes to build under near-perfect conditions. The arrival of spring reminds me of the changing seasons.

Prepare and Adapt: Gear and Mindset

In addition to enjoying the changing landscape, we also selected different gear. Early spring snow conditions change rapidly, sometimes hour to hour. We brought ski poles, snowshoes, and microspikes in the car with us. But once I saw bare pavement and dirt trails at the trailhead, I left behind the bulkier, harder-to-carry snowshoes and ski poles. Instead, I brought both pairs of compact microspikes and one collapsible pole.

The only snow equipment we ended up using were gloves and the pole. The few other hikers we saw clipped on their traction devices, but we never needed ours. I prefer to carry something we might or might not use rather than suffering from not having it. Proper gear choice speaks to two things: experience and preparation. In the metaphor of life’s unpredictable challenges, the more experience we have and the more prepared we are to face whatever comes next, the better we can handle it.

You can take the hiker out of the mountains, but you can never take the mountains out of the hiker. Whether snow or dirt, I feel completely in my element, at peace and connected when I'm out enjoying nature. One of our favorite trees on the Talapus-Olallie Lakes trail. — You can take the hiker out of the mountains, but you can never take the mountains out of the hiker. Whether snow or dirt, I feel completely in my element, at peace and connected when I’m out enjoying nature. One of our favorite trees on the Talapus-Olallie Lakes trail.

Personal Growth Parallels Life’s Changing Seasons

Like changing seasons in the mountains, we experience inevitable changes in our own lives. When my daughter was much younger, just as we started getting comfortable with a life stage… everything changed. The terrible twos. Her first solo gymnastics class. Kindergarten. First friendships. Junior high. Her constant growth forced us to adapt, like it or not. Parenting builds resilience and adaptability. So do injury, illness, changes in homes or jobs, and adversity.

Each of my clients comes to me facing profound change. If we can prepare for the unexpected and face challenges head-on, we can appreciate our journey and the lessons it can teach us. This week I spoke with a client who recently reached the summit of Kilimanjaro. She became a magnet of optimism for the others on her 20-person team who needed a pep talk. She enjoyed each of the diverse experiences during the journey to the top as much as she did the summit.

This winter we didn't get much in the way of snow in the city. So we drove to it to make snow angels, a snowman, and throw a few snowballs. Ajax investigated my daughter's angel. — This winter we didn’t get much in the way of snow in the city. So we drove to it to make snow angels, a snowman, and throw a few snowballs. Ajax investigated my daughter’s angel.

Experiencing a Shift

As I created this post, I felt a shift within. Making the time to drive a greater distance with my daughter to reach the snow made me relish and yearn for snow experiences even more. It helped me embrace and celebrate both my Milwaukee roots and over two decades of Alpine travel. And, as a bonus, Ajax tolerated the snow just fine.

I don’t have any big physical objectives this year. My mantra for 2024 is to “turn obstacles into opportunities.” Instead of viewing snow in the mountain as an obstacle that keeps me on trails at lower elevations, I’m heading higher starting in April. Ajax and I will enjoy the snow as much as we can. After all, the summer heat and crowded trails are just around the corner.