Keeping my community updated with how I am navigating life's trail, where I am finding light and the goals I am working on.
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Climbing atop the 7th highest mountain on earth, Dhaulagiri got off to a jagged start. My second 8 000 er was far tougher mentally than physically. I climb on.
The world’s 3rd highest peak, my 3rd 8000er, was going to be different. The stories my mind was telling were daunting yet deep within knew that there was potential for greatness to surface from change. It did.
New shoulds, eye glasses, and response.
Craving the serenity, simplicity and solitude of life in the Himalayas, where I am disconnected yet connect deeply: inner peace should not be altered. I have work to do.
As I prepare to climber beyond 8 000m, I reflect upon the healing I have found in the himals of Nepal, and how I strive to personify their characteristics.
A glimpse into my first expedition beyond 8 000 m, to the true summit of Manaslu
Grief is an enigma. Ups and downs, twists and turns, it hides in crevices before it surfaces again without warning.
Climbing atop the 7th highest mountain on earth, Dhaulagiri got off to a jagged start. My second 8 000 er was far tougher mentally than physically. I climb on.
The world’s 3rd highest peak, my 3rd 8000er, was going to be different. The stories my mind was telling were daunting yet deep within knew that there was potential for greatness to surface from change. It did.
New shoulds, eye glasses, and response.
Craving the serenity, simplicity and solitude of life in the Himalayas, where I am disconnected yet connect deeply: inner peace should not be altered. I have work to do.
As I prepare to climber beyond 8 000m, I reflect upon the healing I have found in the himals of Nepal, and how I strive to personify their characteristics.
A glimpse into my first expedition beyond 8 000 m, to the true summit of Manaslu
Grief is an enigma. Ups and downs, twists and turns, it hides in crevices before it surfaces again without warning.
Room for anything but mindfulness does not exist when maneuvering amidst renowned technical terrain, anchor after endless anchor with frigid fingers and without depth perception, one breath at a time I climbed in body and mind.
2021
As a visually impaired adventure athlete, along with unique content and inspiring goals’, contagious energy is fabricated into my story, which I would be grateful to have allies become part of.
Ama Dablam comes with an extensive packing list; a strong mental game tops the most essential gear as she leaves no space for a wandering mind. Most variables on the mountain are beyond my control yet which direction the voices take is up to me.
Having been forced down from the Annapurnas and locked out of the mountains, following 8 challenging months, things were looking up. Embarking upon the most technical test of my vision, physical and mental strength, when an avalanche hit.
When Mother Nature sent us to our rooms, the imposition was all too familiar. Thoughts of being alone with only the voices in my head was daunting. I welcomed an unanticipated energy surge, yet nothing lasts forever. The Corona Blues are deep yet a spark flickers.
From the first set of stairs to adventuring in the highest of the Himalayas, come along on a visual story of serendipity.
Letting go of a challenging chapter, I ground myself. Embodying the mountains that surround me, unwavered by storms or winds of change, I climb on.
With the weight in my mind heavier than that of my pack, I teetered on the trail and in thought. Rescuing myself from fleeing feelings of failure, success became personal.
Among a panorama of giants in the Imja Valley, insight was stronger than a tempting dance between doubt and dark thoughts as I climbed Island Peak.
Something powerful takes over when hanging by an axe hooked into ice, crampons and a collection of carabiners. Presence is where I find inner peace.
Backcountry skiing among the highest of the Himalayas felt blissfully surreal. In an instant, the peaks were padlocked and an internal storm was triggered.
I once thought that my TBI and vision loss meant my life had fallen apart, yet today I feel it beginning to fall into place.
When I create space for new possibilities, I flow with renewed courage, thankful for the strength I have learned from my scars.
Heading towards a Swiss peak long before the light of day, a dark trail became a bright, reflective classroom. The teacher, a headlamp.
Tears flowed throughout this tale which depicts the power of intentions, perspective and pausing in the art of conversation.
When I thought I was on solid ground, an unanticipated wave rocked me. I work to ride the waves, each one an opportunity to learn from.
Pneumonia could have knocked me down. Instead it led to higher trails, new connections and a chapter more dynamic than mountain weather.
Life is not about dwelling or craving change. Embracing life is about being the best I can possibly be right now.
Vulnerability has led to conversation, connection and immeasurable growth that would not have unfolded had I kept my falls and fears within.
A 10-day Vipassana sit was a whole new endurance experience that created new thought patterns and built strength in stillness.
An open heart and an open mind, opens doors and light appears. An unanticipated week in the hospital with pneumonia, I found light.
Up five stitches, down a front tooth, the sky was laughing at me as tears fell through the wrath of thunder on a new September 3rd.
Deep, dark emotions that held me in misery, have become lessons. The more I learn, the less I fear.
Though physical scars are permanent, self-belief changed. From hospitals to mountains, I am healing, rediscovering, not fixing, myself.
Vulnerability has led to new connections, experiences, growth and gratitude. Opening up has sparked new light on my trail.
13 massifs during 1 trip arounds the sun: 12 months later, I am just getting started. Run, reflect, and grow through what I go through.
With ravishing waterfalls among enchanting geothermal mountains, trails taught lessons in geological contrasts and the warmth of Icelanders.
From going to bed hoping to not wake, to being stoked about my trails ahead, though my eyesight has narrowed, my perspective has widened.
Making the most of what I can do, I checked in with my medical team in Denver and hopped out to trails throughout Colorado. Arizona and Utah.
North America triggered reminders of TBI losses. I struggled to find what I needed in my toolbox.
An unanticipated crack of a baseball bat in Flagstaff was nothing any therapy had prepared me for.
Arrival in the USA was accompanied by overwhelm. Rather than letting stumbling stones trip me up, I chose to let them strengthen and motivate me.
Spectacular trails throughout the Andes, Peru moved mountains within.
Sharing my story with a team of blind and visually impaired runners, the inspiration that transpired shone far brighter than the stars in the evening sky.
After years of one-to-one care, I cherish being alone in silence. Challenging days of stillness and silence proved to be powerful movement.
My Andes’ adventures, the pearls of Patagonia and colourful gems of Jujuy made for a 6 week magical story of growth.
My body was on death’s doorstep such a short time ago. Now, being kind to it seems so straightforward yet through rocky terrain I struggle.
Bloodied knees and hands and another smashed pair of sunglasses. At times I can laugh off falls. Today, getting back up was difficult.
After more than 2 years, 3 countries, 7 hospitals, I was dropped at Denver airport with no direction. 70% blind, it was up to me to create a vision.
The comorbidity my TBI served stirred confusion within. From Germany to Canada to Colorado, no vacation, no hope.
Running ridges above Wanaka, dodging clouds and chasing rainbows, beech forests, mountain peaks, glacial lakes, all mythical, magical, Kiwi memories.
Skull fractured and brain severely damaged, I needed fuel to heal yet I had none to give. I withered.
From intensive physical training, teaching and coaching to being bedridden in an instant; how could the puzzle pieces ever come back together.
With a Black Eye, I went home trusting the doctors. My head felt like it was going to explode. I was not too far off.
A brief synopsis of the day that started like any other; then my life changed in an instant.
New relationships can be challenging. In my case, the new relationship is with myself. Like any relationship, it takes work.
A concoction of uncomforts blended smoothly to make for a most memorable run around the world’s 8th highest mountain.
Registering to race was huge. I started and finished with a smile as big as the Himalayas yet I was not finished with Nepal.
With more than 11 000 m of elevation gain over 220 km, running the Annapurna Circuit reflected the journey of my recovery.
Introducing myself to India and the Himalayas by way of running was a challenging first date. I look forward to trying a second time.
A gem in the Julian Alps, with thousands of trails and hundreds of peaks Slovenia had me striding and smiling.
What I cherish and celebrate in others at times is a challenge for me to appreciate in myself. I strive to focus on the look of inner strength.
A stunning Italian backdropped yet I struggled on foot and in mind. Rocky came along for a rugged run in the Dolomites.
A fairy tale might include a pretty alpine picture with my face glistening in the setting sun. Though many rainbows and golden stars, this story is real.
Building confidence on the trails and in my body, I reflect with gratitude following a month in France.
Transitioning from the Pyrenees to the Rhone Alps, nostalgia took a surprising toll. The learning curve is all uphill.
Just 6 months out of hospital, my first real trail running since the accident provided an opportunity to challenge demons and discover strength.
A glimpse of acronyms intended to make sense of my injuries, diagnoses and complications along the way.