Madden Minutes

Is it difficult to take care of a three-legged dog?

Piper and I were walking around the block one Saturday this spring, when a car pulled up next to us and slowed. Normally, from their cars, porches or bikes, people will pause to say “Aw, how cute!” or “How’d it lose its leg?”

I inevitably go through the whole story of how she got hit by a car before being surrendered to a rescue, and how I adopted her almost three years ago. We think she’s six or seven, but we’re not sure. Yes, she’s Staffordshire Terrier, but with a little bit of Boxer in there as well. Yes, she knows she’s a good looking dog! No, she doesn’t seem to mind at all, and the only place she doesn’t want to go is home!

This time, an apologetic woman tentatively asked me if taking care of a three-legged dog was hard. “My Beagle got hit by a car and his leg is going to have to be amputated.” She was so worried that I was going to say “yes, it’s difficult,” and she was visibly relieved when I assured her it wasn’t.

I stand by that statement: taking care of a three-legged dog, or a “tripawd” as I like to call Piper, isn’t harder than taking care of any dog. If anything, Piper’s enthusiasm for people and reactivity to other dogs require much more management than her handicap. But there are a few things I’d share with anyone looking to adopt a tripawd or whose pet has lost a limb.

Taking care of a three-legged dog isn’t hard, but it is different in a few ways.

Stamina: while Piper is what I call a “Dora the Explorer” type who would prefer to endlessly explore over circling home, she also needs to take frequent breaks, and ultimately isn’t a great jogging or exercise partner. Walks with Piper are slow, filled with breaks, and meandering. At home, she expends excess energy by chewing on her toys, with the occasional “zoomies” episode here and there, but is otherwise a bonafide couch potato. Her favorite place to be is on the couch, against me. With that said, she’s also gone camping and hiking with me! I just have to be careful about not letting her overdo it.

Diet: Piper is on a joint supplement (one tablet with breakfast) and I watch her weight carefully, but that’s about it. This goes hand-in-hand with being careful how much exercise she gets – the ultimate goal is to protect Piper’s joints, which is a lot harder if she’s got too much weight to lug around. I keep her pretty lean, and she gets broccoli, carrots and other healthy snacks for treats.

Gear: On longer walks or in public places, I have Piper wear a harness with a handle on top that I can use to carry her if needed. This is great for moving her out of the way when she wants to rest in the middle of the street, or for assisting her through difficult to navigate areas. It also helps me better regulate her interactions with other dogs and humans, too. When it’s really hot out or if we’re going on a rugged adventure, Piper wears protective boots that give her a little extra stability. For the future, I’ll consider a ramp for my bed or couch, but neither of these heights are any concern right now. She loves leaping into the car, but I usually lower her back out. If she were larger, I’d already have invested in a vehicle ramp for sure – and I still might as she gets older.

Is there anything else you want to know about tripawds? Happy to help!

Drop a comment below if I missed anything or if you’ve got any other tips.

Sixty Days Without WiFi

What I’ve learned from lockdown without WiFi

I’ve been working from home and social distancing since March 14, which puts me at 50 days as of May 2. It’s been a long, long time to be mostly alone, for even an introvert like myself. I’ve gone to the grocery store only three times during this period, had takeout just six times, and I haven’t had a latte since March 26th – something I mourn almost daily. And while I’m still going to the barn once or twice a week, I’m doing so when it’s typically at its emptiest, and being extra cautious about my behaviors in that space.

I am so blessed to still be employed, and realize that it’s a privilege to be inconvenienced so minutely as I am. I truly do believe, too, that social distancing is an important practice for us to maintain for as long as needed, no matter how difficult work-from-home (WFH) may be. Where I live, some factions of the public have refused to follow social distancing guidelines, leading to significant spikes in cases and endangering the mostly-elderly population that lives in this region. In order to protect the vulnerable in our communities, especially those with underlying conditions (so prevalent in the rural south!), I’m willing to be inconvenienced and quite bored while others are kept safe.

Frankly, I get very frustrated with people who claim to have “put in their time” and who defiantly choose their own end-date for quarantine. You may be healthy, Karen, and of a low-risk demographic, but all the people who serve you in your day-to-day activities are not. All the people you infect as an asymptomatic carrier might not be so blessed. And while herd immunity is great, we don’t have it yet. So, what we do now determines how many of our vulnerable survive. And I would like to be able to celebrate the holidays with my entire family, personally.

With that said, I have my own inconvenience to complain about: I’ve been relying on a wimpy hotspot for all of my work and boredom-related quarantine content! I usually use my office internet for downloading any large media that I can’t handle at home, and then deal with slow buffering speeds on Netflix or while watching sports (oh, remember sports?!) just a few hours of the day. But when it’s all hung on the “three bars” I get on a good day, for almost everything I do – this has been a serious exercise in patience, people.

I’m moving (just a little – closer to the barn!) soon, and will no longer be in the WiFi-less predicament that has been my life for the past two years. I’m very thankful for an end-date to the hotspot situation, no matter the length of the “WFH” trend. But I’ve learned a few things from this time that I’m hoping to carry with me into “life after lockdown:”

Non-stop entertainment is not that entertaining.
I’ve found that I am way more likely to be bored or restless if I spend all day watching content, from shows to movies and social media videos, than if my day includes variety and movement. An evening Netflix episode or two is one of my favorite ways to end the day, still, and a comedy special or movie is good medicine, but the marathons will only get you through so many days of isolation.
Productivity is not a measure of success.
Sure, I’d love to cross a few things off my list by noon, but sometimes technology is not on my side, and nothing will load. I’ve learned to work intentionally when I can, and don’t sweat when I can’t. When my hotspot isn’t working, I take a walk, or do another load of laundry, or even do something relaxing like reading or napping. Then, I come back to the laptop and try again. What I do get done, I do to the best of my ability, and then I move on with my day.
I’m happier with limited screen time.
An echo of my first point, but an echo I think worth amplifying: the less screen time, the better. I’m the kind of person who feels overwhelmed by long to-do lists, but loves to cross things off. I’ve been keeping long lists of things to clean, pack, purchase, or get done, and pulling one thing from each list for the daily list, alongside my work to-dos. The variety of activities, from cleaning out my closet to organizing my bookshelf to donating some of my extra items, gives me a chance to feel productive without sitting in one place all day.

Sometimes the to-dos are really reminders to take care of myself – make yourself a nice lunch, paint your nails, etc. Combined with a once or twice daily walk with my pup, I keep enough activity to be able to rest well at night, most of the time. Nobody’s perfect.
Opt outside always.
In all weather, if safe. When I’m sucked into my screens all day, anxiety has a much easier time gaining the upper hand. Obviously, many of us are experiencing increased anxiety through this uncertain time, but for those of us with pre-existing anxiety or any other mental health concern, things have been hard. For me, getting outside and reminding myself that the sky is NOT falling has been crucial.

Moving my body, enjoying the sunshine – or wind, or even rain – and how it feels hitting my physical self keeps me grounded and in the present. It gently encourages me to stay hydrated, allows me to encounter other people around the neighborhood from a safe distance, and helps me feel accomplished – whether I walk miles or just around the block. This is also why I choose to go to the barn once or twice a week, whether I feel like leaving the house or not – because being outside and seeing my horse gives me so much joy. The physical exercise is just another perk!
Stay connected to other humans.
As someone who lives solo, work and the barn are my main source of community in the “normal” day-to-day. This is where technology has been an incredible gift in this time: I’ve been able to reach out to and “see” friends and family with whom I couldn’t otherwise connect. From my coworkers, parents and grandparents to college friends and even to virtual sign language class – way trickier than class in-person! – I’ve been able to stay in touch with other humans. If I didn’t have that kind of access, I’d be in a much darker place. Going forward, I’ll try to be this intentional about checking in with my people, especially those I don’t get to see often. The connection has been sweet!
Check in with long-term goals and projects periodically.
I’ve had time to survey all aspects of my daily routine in the last fifty days, and I was able to pick back up on some passion projects I’d let lag. For me, that’s more writing, but it could be art, building something physical, starting a business, or one of the many new-year’s resolutions we often forget about. Thanks to the extra downtime I have in quarantine, I’ve been able to re-evaluate my budgeting and will shortly reach a goal I’ve been working towards for the last year – a fulfilling realization. I’ve checked in and adjusted with my short and long-term professional goals, realizing that I’ve come farther in a shorter amount of time than I thought I would. Some goals have been put further down the list, because they’re just not as important as I thought they were. Either way, the periodic check-in is something I hope to continue.

What is something you’ve learned in the last two months that you’d like to bring forward into the rest of the year, whatever it may look like? We’ve been given an incredible gift to redefine what the “normal” we left looks like when we “return.” What else can we dream about protecting as we move forward?

Be well!

Sarah

Unusual Times for Sports & Hearing Myself on a Podcast

Happy May! When I went into quarantine it was still March, so I’m not sure how to feel about that… but we’ve made it to May, so let’s enjoy it!

I was recently invited to be a guest on the Horse Radio Network’s “Horses in the Morning” podcast to discuss what approach we’ve been taking to virtual competition in these unusual times without… well, competitions. For Tryon International Equestrian Center, that’s looked like hosting the Ultimate Jump-off Competition in a bracket-style battle using winners from our biggest and best 2019 competitions under the lights.

That campaign went so well, with awesome participation on our social media channels, and it’s definitely an activation we will continue in years to come! As the parent of this bracket brainchild, it makes me so happy to find a new way to connect people to the things they miss – in this case, horse shows.

You can catch up on what went down here:

Many horse shows around the country, and riders themselves, are finding new ways to produce virtual competitions or activities to pass the time. Ours just happened to look a little like March Madness because I was *definitely not* crying over the loss of “basketball Christmas” … at all.

Anyways, Horses in the Morning wanted to chat about the bracket and how we’ve been handling lockdown, too! You can listen to the full episode by clicking below, but I’m not actually talking until 30:30 in the clip.

Click the image below to listen!

While I’m not a fan of hearing myself talk, I had a blast and the HITM crew is lots of fun. Personally, it’s fun to reflect on how far I’ve come as a professional – talking on the phone was once so terrifying to me, never mind on a live podcast to thousands of people! Mostly, I’m just glad to be able to share any shred of normalcy I can with people who miss it.

Until lockdown is over, I’ll be thinking of more fun things to do from the safety of our couches… if you’ve seen something cool or have an idea, I’ll take them! 🙂

Stay well.

When your work doesn’t look it: a 2018 story

“Wow, I want that job.”

I glanced up from my phone to see a man in a hard hat – you know the type: forties, beer gut; probably a nice dude, but a little tired from a relentless job in construction, or electricity, or plumbing – climbing out of his truck just feet from where I sat.

He gestured at my phone again. I was sitting at a table near a construction site at work, waiting on a meeting that was supposed to start an hour ago. I was frantically trying to reach my contact, combing frantically through a flood of unread emails and trying to keep up, while simultaneously trying to conjure a person I really needed to talk to about a project that should have been done two days ago.

“What, trying to track down [name]?” I joked, knowing that the stranger would know the name, and know my challenge.

Hardhat scoffed. “A lot better than this,” he said while jabbing a thumb back at his truck. He made some other remark about “on my phone all day” that I didn’t quite catch, and another worker with him chuckled.

Never in my life would I have felt the need to engage with a stranger about how easy their job looked in relation to mine. Fun or exciting and different? Maybe. Never in the bitter, dismissive and mocking tone used by the man who had no idea what he was saying, or what he was witnessing.

What he didn’t understand: I was underweight, because work-related anxiety had robbed me of appetite and given me nausea, fidgetiness and constant panic instead. I was forcing myself to eat some chips while I waited, because something had to counteract the coffee. I didn’t know it at the time, but I needed to see a doctor. I was struggling to keep up at work, juggling problems at scales I’d never before encountered, and in shorter timeframes than I dreamed possible. This meeting – if it would just happen – was tied to one of the many side circuses I was attempting to manage. And scrolling through emails on my phone was easier than digging my computer from my backpack, since I was probably going to have to hurry somewhere else in a minute, anyway.

My job – that day, even – was anything but easy, and had I not been so shocked, I would have angrily invited Mr. Hardhat to take on my problems and begged him to let me swing a sledgehammer – or find a way to make him regret his words and see how truly inappropriate it was for him to address me or anyone else like that.

Instead of retorting, I just raised my eyebrows, and rolled my eyes while he sauntered off. I buried myself back in my emails until [name] showed up and we had our meeting and then I rushed away. I was fuming, my day even further derailed by a lackadaisical man who might have been putting in a third of the effort into his job as I was into mine. And, even more frustrating to me, I know he thought his assumptions about me were confirmed.

Physically-demanding jobs are difficult, and very important, and I am thankful every day for the construction crews I’ve shared spaces with in the last two years. And I am even more thankful I was not on the crews themselves. I get it. But I will never, ever interrupt a stranger in a public space and tell them they have an easy job.

The whole interaction was insignificant, and not worth my time, but it’s an interaction I know I’ll have many times as a young, female professional in sports marketing, which encompasses so much more than just “playing around” on our phones, but is often difficult to articulate.

I’m very proud of the work I do and the experience I’ve gained, and I’m learning to be a healthier human while doing good work, too. I almost refrained from sharing this story *specifically* because I don’t need confirmation that my job is “hard enough” or valid despite being unusual, or any other self-justifying responses. I don’t need pity about where I was in life more than a year ago.

I’m sharing because an older man thought he had the right to put me down, because I looked like a stereotype of a younger generation he didn’t like or didn’t recognize, and he might not have known better. But he’s just one of dozens I’ve met who say the same things. I’m sharing because we don’t need to be afraid to educate those around us. He might’ve had people in his life who could educate him about his perceptions, or he might not have ever seen someone use email on their phone. I’ll never know.

But he’s not getting away with it next time. Whether I’m at work or the grocery store or in a bar or a park or attending a conference, the next time a guy takes a jab at my work, he’s going to learn that I’m also a great teacher.

A P.S. from many, many months later:

I’m in a much better space these days. I’m much healthier, and my anxiety is well-managed. My job – still the same one, just not working on an Olympic-level event in my spare time! – is very fulfilling to me, and the hardest year of my life taught me to handle nearly anything. 2019 has been a year of continued growth and recovery, and I am so excited and hopeful for the year to come.

I still feel it difficult to articulate my job, and my value, but I’m learning to remember the evidence: both the tangible things I can point to and say, “I did that,” and the difficult-to-quantify but crucial aspects of my work.

Those who don’t get it, don’t need to. The people who matter will come around, anyway. May we be gentle with those around us, and lead them with grace where we can.

What’s the best way you’ve found to explain your unusual job? Let me know!

Oh, Lovely Helmet

Best viewed on *anything* but a mobile phone.

Brain bucket
Hard hat
Crash cap
Skid lid
Thud!
goes my body as I roll off the saddle and land in the fine gravel dust.
The footing that had felt so buoyant before
now accepts me with much less bounce—my hips hit first,
left-side dominant, heaviest, fastest, as always.
I don’t remember my heels tapping the ground, toes falling outwards
Like a ballet dancer in first position,
But I do remember the echoing thud of my head,
the throbbing I felt,
trying to understand…
Oh:
I hadn’t been able to recover from the accidental trick ride.

My horse stands blinking, concerned,
confused as to why I couldn’t keep aboard—
why my grasp of physics
hadn’t matched with his when he took the long distance.

This pilot hadn’t been expecting the launch
… Yet.
There was still another stride.
This rider hadn’t seen it coming—
the rock back,
the hurtling of 1,000 lbs of unpredictable prey-animal muscle,
the stretching of the front hooves to barely
clear the red and white pole—
had been a Surprise.

The rest was physics.
He stands still, gazing down at me,
while I stare at the sky between his ears.

I remember looking through another pair of ears, once—
still in the saddle—
and refusing to fall.
Just the day before, I’d spent $250 for this brand new brain bucket,
and I would not be bothered to replace it.
But that horse from long ago
had tried to dismount me on his own accord,
and I had Stuck.

Mambo, his kind grey muzzle hovering over me today,
had tried his best to keep me on board.
But of course, this is a sport in which your equipment
can choose whether to cooperate.

Today, I’m not worthy of sticking the ride… or the landing.
But I’m alive.
Breathe, just to make sure.
Notice the clouds.
Slowly roll up—avoid the left hip.
Stare at first-position feet, scuffed boots that will need polishing.
Smile at horse—offer a pet.
Lean heavily on hand.
Assume the standing position.
Reattach stirrups—the ones I sent flying—to the saddle.
Check helmet—check for concussion.
Wipe off the gravel dust; laugh at 5’8” human imprint in soft rock.
Climb the stairs.
Ride again.
Pop over pole – correct distance, this time.
Give thanks for the brain bucket.

Above is draft 283ish – first draft submitted for class December 2016, loosely modeled after Robinson Jeffers’ “Oh, Lovely Rock”

Re-Learning to Dance

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: If this is our winter, I can’t wait for spring! Dancer has made so much progress since our first ride in late January, and I can’t believe she’s already come so far in the last 40 days. Here’s what I’ve noticed (with photos mostly taken by Christine Holm!).

Bravery:
Dancer is a very, very brave and curious horse. But she likes to have complete control over her surroundings and is very distrusting of spaces that obstruct her view or that have suspect footing, so some of her least favorite places are trailers, wash stalls, the indoor arena, the barn… any enclosed or echoing areas. It took a long time for her to feel safe in the grooming stalls, where she now stands comfortably most days. Last week it only took three minutes for me to convince her to stand for a quick rinse in the wash stall – unheard of in years past.

Her main nemesis for the past few weeks has been the indoor arena, where she at first hated the mirror at the end and was terrified of the dark, enclosed space. She whinnied frantically to any horse she could hear in the distance, hoping to be saved. We spent a lot of time exploring and “resting” in the indoor so that it would become a comfortable place – and now it’s one of her favorite places to roll! The indoor is still not her first choice, but it’s allowed us to keep exercising through some pretty gross weather, and I’m sure its shade will be her favorite spot when it gets warmer!

Having a best friend to ride with like Duke, pictured above, helps a ton! But Dancer has also shown me that she’s capable of really incredible solo rides, too. Some of my favorites have been after-work sunset rides when the barn is at its quietest.

This bravery keeps showing up in other situations, too – when getting her feet done on a busy day with machinery nearby, when we took our first mini trail ride, when the neighbor is having target practice and she’s bothered, but not undone, or when I’m asking her to try something new that’s a little difficult. When Dancer gets unconfident or frustrated these days, she’s looking to me first more often than she’s pitching a fit. It’s not perfect, but I’ve definitely noticed a difference. I’ll take it.

Strength:
Dancer’s improved fitness is so exciting to me. Her stamina and muscle is slowly improving, but I’m also so proud of the emotional and mental balance that she’s developing. Our canter transitions are not the prettiest, and she prefers the left lead over the right, but head-shaking and diving bucks from emotional and physical imbalance is truly a thing of the past (and way more enjoyable to ride!).

She’s learning to carry herself much better and I can’t wait to see the changes that continue to come to her topline over time. Some days I don’t feel like I’m riding a giraffe anymore, but a hunter! She’s always going to have an upright carriage, but I can already see how she’s carrying herself more correctly. In the photos above you can see a little bit of the difference between early February and early March. I can’t wait to compare these recents to our progress going forward!

Skills:
Dancer can now move sideways much more fluidly, mostly in-hand and she recently nailed a few steps under saddle as well. Leg pressure has always caused a forward “reaction” instead of a response, so it’s cool to see her vocabulary, if you will, expanding. She has started to show me her sideways skills in the grooming stalls, expecting a treat for it!

Poles and jumps are becoming a routine part of Dancer’s workouts, much to our mutual joy. I’ve been a little hesitant to overdo them, since our canter muscles are still in process, but they’ve been a great tool for improving her footwork and balance. If Dancer is a little distracted, having her do trot or canter work over a pole or two can help bring her back down to earth, and she *loves* to jump. These days we are trotting and sometimes cantering over crossrails – with no crazy celebrations or fits afterwards, either! Pictured above: our first cantered crossrail that I was just trying to trot, but beautifully done by the redhead.

I can’t wait to see how this progress continues as the weather only gets better!

Dancer’s New Digs

One “resolution” down.
Dancer and I no longer live an hour apart, which means I get to see her before or after work as I please, and sometimes multiple times on weekends. I can’t believe how fun it is to see her stand at attention and whinny every time I round the corner – not tired of me yet.

It took me a long time to get on again.
How do you take a half-wild teenage horse, who hasn’t been bossed around by any living soul for more than a year, in a brand-new place buzzing with more activity than she’s seen in the past six years, and climb back on?

You don’t.
You take her on lots of walks, to see everything and make her peace with it. And you feed her so many treats that she starts nipping you when there’s a pause in the flow of treats, to remind you that it’s been forty-three seconds since the last peppermint or paddock cake piece.

And then you do it again and again; you take her everywhere you can think of, and whenever you can – when things are busy and bustling or when it’s peaceful, and calm has settled on the farm. You create home where there wasn’t before – in wash stalls that echo menacingly and in cross-tie boxes that obscure from view the noisy tractor coming around the corner, but don’t silence its roar, or in dark, dusty indoor arenas with wall-to-wall mirrors that instill panic and then fury in your fuzzy goddess, who shall not be mimicked like that, thank you.

You create puzzles in doorways and gates and over poles and around chairs or mounting blocks and then you let her throw them around to kill ’em dead before you could possibly expect her to ignore these [once]-dangerous objects. You laugh a lot, to show her that everything really is fine here. And, she’s also funny.

You walk with your red dragon goddess for days before one day you don’t see a dragon, but an old friend. And then you ride.

And it’s not pretty. Because you’re still riding a dragon who wants to eat everything she’s conquered already and conquer everything that still could eat her. But that’s the game, isn’t it? To go find something new to chew on, to to fling, to stomp, to jump, to sidestep or follow. To ask for more little by little until one day you just tack up and ride, and the ride becomes like everything you remember from those carefree trail rides that were eons ago in horse years.

We’re not there yet.
Today, we trot in any direction we can, in any shape we can. We canter at any speed but bucking me off, and for no more than ten strides at a time, because you don’t push your luck with chestnut mares – you just don’t. Tomorrow, we will trot in straight-ish lines and maybe we don’t push our luck any past that.

The path to amazingly, exponentially better isn’t complex, but just everyday. Or every other day, or every day that isn’t below freezing at best. Straight-ish or roundish or downright sideways around the scary shrubbery, I’m thrilled to be back aboard. It’s going to be a great new chapter in our lives and I cannot wait to see the “after” that’s coming!

If this is our winter, I can’t wait for spring.

Today, my horse, who previously wouldn’t stand still or straight (read as: trotted through, then spun anxiously and constantly around) in the cross ties – and who was at no point relaxed enough to safely tie – not only parked herself in the stall for a good grooming without trying to bother the pony next door, but didn’t lose her marbles when heavy machinery was doing its thing right outside the barn aisle. She did, however, reposition herself so she could watch it at work, and then she parked herself again – this time, in the barn aisle itself – and sighed contentedly while I brushed.

Instead of being annoyed that she was standing in an unusual place, I marveled at her smarts, and her genuine confidence. Just feet from where footing was being re-graded, my dragon looked a lot more like a teddy bear, and was interestedly watching the plow, for my lack of a better word, scrape back and forth. I was able to tack her up – for only the second time in more than a year! – without tying her and truly without needing to do so.

When we returned from our ride, all was quiet at the barn. And this is the happy, so-proud-of-herself face that she made while she relaxed. And I didn’t know how to be prouder or how to communicate it to her. But I think she knows anyway. I think the treats help.

I will probably look back at today’s photos in a few weeks and cringe, because even our best today is nothing like what it could be. But in even a few weeks, I will be so proud. Again. And eventually we’ll look a little bit more like the pros I get to write about for a living… or maybe just the amateurs. In the meantime, I’m going to be giving my horse another treat because she really, really deserves it for putting up with me, and as is true with all horses – and all red mares – we truly don’t deserve her.

The HI Points

2019 started with a lot of high points for me… literally.

January 1, I was standing on top of Corona Heights Summit in San Francisco after an urban hike with our cousins. The next day, our same group was climbing a trail to the East Peak of Mount Tamalpais, about an hour’s drive away, and overlooking the entire bay area. It was amazing.

The highlights continued when I landed in HI to continue the vacation of a lifetime. We stayed on the Garden Island, Kauaʻi, and there were some major high points to drink in, along with some stunning beachside views as well. We rode and hiked everything in sight, from bikes to horses and boats and from mountain ridges to cliffs and beaches. See below for recaps from adventures in both SF and HI!

Corona Heights Summit

A brief city hike from the Castro district made for some incredible views before we hiked back down into downtown. I’ve been to San Fran many times, but it was fun to see it from a new perspective and point out everything I could identify from above.

Mount Tamalpais East Peak

Mount Tam did not disappoint, with a brief but challenging hike and nice views along the way. There are two trails here: one that takes you around the base of the peak and one that takes you up. We did both, and enjoyed the views all around!

Though San Fran wasn’t our ultimate destination, it was amazing to spend another few days in one of my favorite cities to visit, and enjoy staying with my cousins we don’t get to see as much.

Waimea Canyon Overlook

Not a hike by any means, but a GORGEOUS view of such a stunning canyon (we’re on a *tiny* volcanic island and we’ve got rainforest, swampland, coast, and canyon, too? How cool is that?!)

Pihea Trail, Kokeʻe State Park

Day one on Kauaʻi began with a muddy, challenging hike that I absolutely adored. I got happier and happier as we followed this ridgeline trail along the Nā Pali Coast and climbed higher in muddier and muddier conditions (trying to stay as mud-free as possible). Mom summited at Pihea first, with me right behind her!

It’s really tough to show the almost vertical clay-packed trail that at times felt more like rock-climbing than hiking – and in those spots I wasn’t stopping to take photos! The feeling of standing on a cliff with these views was indescribable, and I could have re-hiked this trail eight times.

Hanalei River Kayak

Though John and I didn’t have the smoothest ride on our double kayak – ask him about it if you wish 😉 – our wander up and down the Hanalei River was still a blast.

The Hanalei Valley is absolutely gorgeous, but we didn’t get to see much due to road closures, a product of flooding last April.

Horseback Riding

Silver Falls Ranch – accessible only via large, private estates nearby (again, due to flooding) – was 300 acres of views, including an inner botanical garden, and a great place to go for a ride. Their horses are very well cared for and they’ve got a horse for every rider, from the more timid of our group to the unexperienced and myself – the rusty, but horse-obsessed one. I rode Romeo, and he was a dreamboat. Super light and responsive, he was a good ride and he knew it. I wanted to bring him home!

Bike Rides to Donkey Beach and Back

I was skeptical of this adventure because it’d been years since I’d been on a bike, and I’ve never been fond of them. Give me a horse any day! But the weather was perfect and we had a blast riding along the coast to Donkey Beach and coasting back to town.

From Beach to Boat

We started on the beach in Poipu for one of the slowest mornings of the trip thus far, and ended the day on a boat, sailing up the Nā Pali Coast we had hiked before. I was so happy I couldn’t be serious at all – the coast was stunning and the ride was invigorating! I didn’t catch them on camera, but our sunset cruise also included the company of some humpback whales – particularly a mom and her calf, which was pretty special.

Quiet

Our last day was quiet, spent at the beach and with some shopping. We watched whales breach from our cliffside condo at dinnertime, and I remember feeling immense gratitude for our time there. And that was that.

Kauaʻi, I’ll be back. Thank you for being the adventure – and the inspiration – of a lifetime!

Resolutions Redefined

I find it interesting to go back and read resolutions from years past… that’s why I write them down. Some things remain on the list because they are evergreen goals that can never be finished. Some items remain on the list because I never attempted them. And some resolutions remain unaccomplished because the trajectory of my life for the past years has so drastically changed that the resolution no longer makes sense.

I’m finding a lot of the latter in last year’s list.

Focusing all of my energy on preparing for and enduring August and September of this year was all-consuming, and while it was incredibly rewarding, I’ve had to claw back to normalcy and recalibrate. What I spent more than a year of my life working towards was gone in a flash – a two-month-long blur of activity and stress and joy and difficulty – of hard work that I’m really proud of.

But the craziest first job in the world has consequences, which I’m learning to correct, and I’ve tried to be extra kind to myself in this latter part of the year. Here are some of my goals for the next year by category, since I’ve found that goals are much kinder than resolutions:

Horses: I spent most of 2018 living a solid hour from my horse, and I’m dedicated to making riding a more important part of my life again going forward. I’ve relocated my girl so that I’m much, much closer to the barn now, and I can’t wait to get back in the saddle, literally and figuratively.

As much as I know Dancer will miss her former home, and I’m so thankful for my barn family of the last few years, I’ve missed riding and learning new things with Dancer so much, and I’m excited to have this reboot with her!

Self: I’m prioritizing habits that better my mental health and emotional well-being, especially following a year of self-care that was survival-level at best. I’m working to be less isolated and seek community when things get tough instead of retreating. All of this is in the present tense because these changes in pattern are deep, wide, and slow, as such things are.

Piper and I will continue to adventure as much as we can, and getting some professional training is still on the docket. Pre-WEG, I didn’t feel “together” enough to focus on her training, especially bringing a trainer into my home, but I’m excited to see how Piper’s quality of life improves when being in public spaces is less stressful for her. In the past year, I’ve learned that Piper loves water, and I’m hoping to explore that with her more once it warms back up. I might need to invest in a serious doggie life jacket…

Environment: Reducing my waste and environmental impact gives me great joy, and I’m thrilled to delve deeper into “zero waste” and “plastic free” living. If you know me well you know that I believe these terms are not truly achievable, especially for a human with the food allergies I have and for the region in which I live, but I love the attempt. My next goal is composting my food scraps!

(Someone check back in with me soon and remind me to get on this if I haven’t! Really.)

Another environmental goal: enjoy more of the… environment. Particularly in the Carolinas!

Learning new things: This applies professionally and personally. I want to make a point to keep learning things as I go, because a tiny, tiny portion of me misses being in classes. And reading; I can’t wait to read again! Since reading begets writing, I also hope to write quite a bit more this year. It’ll come much easier if I’ve got books in my hands. I’ve only got one clearly-defined writing goal for 2019: write about WEG (which could take all year!). There’s definitely some poetry floating around right now, too.

Discipline: It was easy to hide behind work and even my anxiety to excuse my lack of self-care in the past year, but I’ve learned how crucial it is for me to get up, make myself coffee, and take my dog on a walk every morning – the little things make such a difference. I’m learning to take pride in the way my little space looks, loving having succulents in all the places Piper can’t reach, and I’m spending more time cooking recently, which is lots of fun. It’s basic adulting, I know, but it got majorly sidetracked this year and I’m already seeing a huge difference now that it’s back on my radar.

Easy does it: After a year that threw me curveball after curveball and left me reeling, the word on my mind this year is reorient. It’s a slow, gentle word, even with its giant implications. While many of my goals for the year might not be itemized in a way that I can check them off as I go, the shift in spirit, momentum, and even attempts within these goals is success.

“When we get through this, we’ll be able to handle anything.”

We in the office talked often in 2018 about the mental toughness that WEG would give us. And while those two weeks were weirdly easier and faster than I expected, the long battle leading up to and through them definitely took a toll, and I’m not afraid to admit that I look forward to a year without a doomsday-type experience hanging over it. I am walking into 2019 much more confident in my abilities and skills, experience and goals, but also deeply grateful to the people I rode into battle with in 2018. Whether they were standing next to me or sending love from afar, they redeemed an otherwise very difficult year. The next three hundred days with my squad – again, wherever they may be – will be so sweet to savor.

I’ve said it before and I’ll said it again: these goals, while public, are not really written for any of you reading this – except me. It’s a beautiful practice to reflect on the last few hundred days, prepare for the next, and be thankful for the love I’ve got around me. But while you’re here, I hope you remember that life is worth even the tough parts, and maybe then even more so.

The Impact of Just One

In the past month or so, I’m convinced I generated more waste – both landfill and recyclable – than in the eight months prior. Here’s why I’m thrilled with this realization.

How did I get here?
What happened between Plastic Free July and now? Well, I was preparing for and surviving hosting the FEI World Equestrian Games™ Tryon 2018 (WEG), one of the most difficult and rewarding experiences of my life*. Planning for WEG and working to make it happen has been the overarching theme of the past eighteen months, but the weeks leading up to and throughout the two-week, international world-championship equestrian competition were… ridiculous.

I dealt with anxiety, sleep deprivation, some of the most “you can’t make this up” problems I think I’ll ever encounter, and worked across many, many departments outside the marketing sphere. I lugged concrete weights and sandbags in addition to thousands of boxes of magazines, installed signage, scanned tickets, ran the carousel, dabbled in housekeeping, dog-catching and construction, and a few other roles I can’t even remember… in addition to my “real job.”

I did this, of course, with a great team who were working just if hard, if not harder, and kept me laughing at the hilarity of it all. Behind the behind-the-scenes, was my mom, keeping my fridge stocked and my dog fed and walked. I could not have survived WEG without her!

My impact:
Coffee lines were long, whether for the free coffee dispenser in the media center (single-use packets, like a Keurig, that only dispensed into designated styrofoam cups of a certain size) or for the kind I had to pay for. Quite honestly, I was so running on fumes that I couldn’t remember to keep my beloved tumbler clean, much less remember to bring it with me each day. I chose to use single-use coffee cups.

I purchased orange juice after powerade after orange juice after powerade throughout the two weeks in order to keep me going – each in a plastic bottle, but necessary. I also ended up using way more water bottles than I’d like to admit, but staying hydrated was incredibly important, and it wasn’t always worth carrying my reusable bottle. There was a giant water refill station onsite that saved countless plastic water bottles (and money!) for spectators, and as a non-spectator there were plenty of additional places for me to get a refill, but having a container on-hand was difficult. I recycled as much as I could, but literally didn’t have time to stress over it. I chose to use single-use plastic.

Frozen and microwaveable meals kept me afloat. I needed lots of calories to get me through WEG, and I didn’t have time to make them. My angel of a mother made sure I had energy drinks, fruit of all kinds, greek yogurt, chocolate milk, and snacks to get me through each day, in addition to hearty meals when I did make it home. I wasn’t always sure there would be enough nut-free food available to me, so pre-packaged snacks were a must – I didn’t have time to wait in line for food I knew was safe. Most of the items that ended up in my fridge are not items I would have purchased on a normal day, but I requested them, and was so thankful to have them.

A few of my biggest supporters – from near and far!

When I ate free food onsite, the only utensils and plates available to me were plastic. This is totally status quo in the events and sports world, especially for an event of this size and caliber that was so miraculously thrown together in such a short time. Had we a full four years to plan as is normally customary at WEG, instead of 18 months, I personally would have pushed for much more reusables, more visible recycling than was already in place, and I would have planned my personal food consumption much more carefully. The circumstances could have been better, no doubt, but I’m not that bothered by it.

But why so optimistic?
The past month reinforced to me that as an individual, my choices *absolutely* make a difference, especially over time. I’ve been conscious of my consumption of single-use plastics and other containers for so long, that I hadn’t counted the true volume of waste I was avoiding.

In my neighborhood, trash is collected weekly, but I only take my can to the curb every few weeks, and usually it’s only got one or two half-filled bags in it. I’d leave it longer, but I worry about attracting animals. Had I a compost pile, I’d almost never take out the trash. I shop carefully to reduce packaging where I can, and I usually eat pretty simply without sacrificing my favorites. This week, when I took out the trash, my several bags were full.

Recycling is collected every other week, and this week is the first time that I’m actually waiting on Wednesday to roll around. My recycle bin has never been this full. And that makes me proud, because even though I recycle everything I can’t reuse, I know it likely won’t be this full ever again.

Little steps make a huge difference!
Just bringing reusable bags to the grocery store – and any other store, which is where I most often forget – can prevent thousands of single-use plastics from going to waste. Refusing to buy coffee in single-use containers makes a giant difference for coffee addicts like myself. Being thoughtful about what I eat and how I purchase it is something I really appreciate, since survival has been my motto for the past month or more.

An individual’s example is powerful.
The few times I did have my tumbler on-hand during WEG, I got a few strange looks from the other customers in line, but not from the baristas who know me so well, now. At Starbucks the other day, espresso drinks were two for one, and when I refused a second latte since I only had one tumbler, both the employees and customers in line with me were a little taken aback.

Months ago, when I was grocery shopping after a long day and felt a little embarrassed by my slightly slower checkout due to the bags I’d brought with me, the cashier told me she loved my mesh produce bags and asked me where to get them. An elderly woman then stopped me and said that she was proud of me for making a difference, since “not enough people thought about the environment.”

And sure, when you think about how many plastic bags are carried out of my local Walmart each day, my seven mesh and cloth bags don’t seem that important. A few more recyclables don’t seem like much. But my full trash can and recycling bin from the past month would beg to differ – and I’m really excited to keep my contributions going now that I’m getting back into a normal routine.

The lesson learned: our choices as individuals have a huge impact! Choose wisely, friends, and celebrate your progress over perfection, always.

~ Welcome to Plastic “Free” October! ~

PS: On a more somber note, my experience with choices made while “surviving” says a lot about larger systems of poverty and how without systemic changes, many cannot afford to make the choices I usually enjoy. Perpetuated consumerism of single-use plastic and other items, packaging waste and poor nutrition all go hand in hand – and it haunts food insecure communities as well. I didn’t eat poorly throughout WEG, but I had lots of good options available to me. Had my fridge not been so well-stocked, things might have been different. To the same point, even in my “survival mode,” I could have made tiny changes with significant impact over two weeks, and every bit adds up.

No matter who we are, the more we choose to reduce waste, the more quickly larger systems will follow suit, and it’s only up from there.

*Don’t worry, WEG will get its own post soon – I’m still wrapping my head around it!