Like many of my peers, I’ve spent most of November feeling disheartened and maybe a little panicked. I’ve been trying to make time for self-care in order to stay (relatively) sane, but each time I lace up my running shoes or pack a backpack, I feel a little guilty, like my time would be better spent on activism than on the entirely self-serving pursuit of personal fitness. Continue reading “The reluctant enthusiast, the part-time crusader, the half-hearted fanatic”
Around this time last year, I started a new job. In an office. I’d spent most of the previous five years working mostly outside: as a backpacking instructor, conducting field research in grad school, a brief stint as a whitewater raft guide. The closest thing I’d had to an office job still allowed me to ski, on the clock, a few times a month. This was a big shift. Continue reading “Red Hot lovin’”
I’ve normally considered this blog to be a space safe from nasty election cycle rhetoric (if not from nasty women). I mostly write about places I’ve been and people I’ve met and things I like to do outside, because usually, someone else is articulating the way I feel about the world better than I can. But this is not “politics,” and the values we, outdoorspeople, hold nearest and dearest are under direct threat by a newly-elected president who believes climate change is a hoax. Continue reading “We have a lot of work to do”
One day this spring or early summer, thousands of people across the country will hang up their car keys and do what every other developed nation does every workday: we’ll ride our bikes to work.
One day this spring or early summer, thousands of people across the country will hang up their car keys and do what every other developed nation does every workday: we’ll ride our bikes to work. Continue reading “Bike to Work Day: Because it’s good for you and you’ll like it.”
Rationally, I know I’m an intelligent, educated, conscientious woman with a strong work ethic and the savvy to handle most challenges you might throw my way, but I spend a good portion of every day fighting the insidious effects of Impostor Syndrome, which can basically be summed up like so: At any moment, a slip of the tongue, some small past error I’ve made, could tip everyone off that I am, in point of fact, a complete fraud.
I check my watch for the umpteenth time, confirming that it’s still not quite eight o’clock on this muggy weekday morning. Despite the knot in my stomach, I sip my still-hot coffee. I’m leaning against an ancient van emblazoned with colorful logos, and sometime in the next hour, I’ll be addressing fifty volunteers who’ve shown up to maintain a popular hiking trail. Continue reading “I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and doggone it, people like me”