A blog about outdoor adventure, family travel, national parks, media, technology, marketing, fitness and me.
I started and operated a business on the frontier of Wyoming for 15 years. It was hard work – similar to exploring the frontier. It was a journey of discovery and promise that at times was harsh and full of hazards. It was epic.
Click here: Part One, published in Wyoming Entrepreneur.
Since selling our business in September 2008, some people think I’m retired, or semi-retired. While I’ve certainly gained more personal time and freedom, I’m not retired and don’t plan on retiring anytime soon — if ever.
In fact, in addition to doing my best to be a good mother to our three sons and a good wife, this past week I worked at least 40 hours a week, coaching clients, working on consulting projects and developing my new business.
Like most people — and other parents — it’s easy to come up with excuses for not having enough time for many important things, such as exercising, making time for relationships that are dear to us, and having fun.
Although I’ve always been pretty good at having fun, at times it takes effort even for me to do so. This past Sunday we went to church, and I had loads of laundry to catch up on and some consulting and coaching work to do. We helped our middle son on a big solar system project, bird-dogged homework, and so on. By 3:30 pm on Sunday, Jerry, I and our three sons had each/all had a very busy day. We were tired and feeling pretty lazy. It was tempting, and certainly justified, for us to just settle in, lounge, and call it a day.
At the same time, upon looking outside, I spied a cloudless, blue sky, a bright sun, mild (30-degree) temperatures, and sparkly white snow everywhere. We should go out and do something fun, I thought. But frankly, I wasn’t feeling particularly motivated to do so.
So I forced it. I “notified” the family to get their snow gear on, we were headed to Sinks Canyon for some sledding. Jerry, my wonderful husband, went along with it and helped me rally our sons and puppy for the sudden adventure.
It would have been easier to not do anything. It’s work to get out the door with kiddos and pets and winter clothing and sleds. But one of the things I want to help my life coaching clients do is to create more fun in their own lives. I need to practice what I preach, right? And I knew from past experience that we’re always better as a result of such adventures.
So, to see what happened next, watch the following video. And to think we almost missed out on this! The moral of the story is to create fun. Don’t think about it, just do it. It can happen in five minutes time and doesn’t have to be an elaborate, or outdoor adventure. It just has to cause smiles and/or laughter, even if for a very brief time.
Of course, the house is a mess. But that’s okay. (Just please don’t stop by unannounced!) I have a feeling I won’t regret that I didn’t keep a super neat and tidy house. I would, however, regret it if I didn’t take time to create fun with my family.
Our family just returned from a weekend in the spectacular Jackson Hole region of Wyoming.
Our purpose of the trip was mostly to be on skis — a little work and a lot of play. We started the weekend off at the Moose Chase ski race. I entered the 30-kilometer race and our oldest two sons, Wolf, 10, and Hayden, 8, entered the 5k. My husband, Jerry, and our 3-year-old son, Finis, were our support and cheering team.
This was my second ski race. (Last March I did the Rendezvous 25k in West Yellowstone, MT.) My 30k was the first event and we literally chased two moose that were ahead of us on the trail at the 1k mark. Although I didn’t see any moose after the start, there was evidence of the big animals throughout the course in the form of moose droppings. (I can report that moose droppings are not your skis’ friend. I almost biffed it when one ski tried to glide over a scattering of them, coming to a complete, and very sudden, halt.)
The course for my 30k involved skiing two 15k laps. The terrain was hilly and rolling and through forest and open meadows and fields. The scenery was awesome. There were some short, incredibly steep uphills (one aptly called “Grunt Hill”), as well as long, seemingly never-ending uphills. The terrain reminded me of Beaver Creek on South Pass, only the trails were longer.
The downhills were awesome — except for one called “Faceplant.” This was the steepest downhill I’ve ever done on skinny, free-heel skis. It was so steep and big that on the first lap, I literally came to a stop at the top, to size it up, before descending. Let’s just say it took gumption for me to go down it. My snowplow had little impact on my speed. I flew down it. Because the 30k required I ski two laps, I would have to fly down it twice. Both times I prayed (out loud) to not fall and to not blow anything out. Whew. It was exhilarating.
At the start of the event, I purposefully started near the end of the crowd of skiers. The first lap was faster than the second. The falling snow lightened up a bit and the (surface) conditions seemed pretty fast, but like in most race situations, it was a “cluster” for a while. The second lap was my favorite, despite a pretty good blizzard and the much softer trail conditions. I liked it best, though, because by this time skiers were spread out and I could enjoy solitude and the scenery. I covered the distance in 2 hours and 17 minutes. The first lap took me 1:07 and the second 1:10.
It was a difficult-but-fun-and-beautiful course, and I did about the best I could. I maybe could have pushed it a little more, but felt great during the event so I have not a single complaint. And, very importantly, I was not sore or tired the next day, which worked out well because we had a family day of downhill fun planned at Jackson Hole Mountain Resort, where I enjoyed my second attempt at telemark skiing, which is not an effortless activity to do, in my humble opinion.
This event was super special for me, and the reason is two of our sons also participated in it. It was their first-ever race event. We told them to stay together and visit and, mainly, have fun. We also told them not to take off their skis off and stay too long when they got to the aid station with the cookies. 🙂
By far, the highlight for me was seeing Wolf and Hayden out on the course, and skiing with each of them briefly, as they approached the finish line and I approached the end of my first lap. They were having fun, smiling, and moving their legs briskly. It was a sight for this mom to behold! I cheered them and they cheered me. Then, I heard Jerry cheering loudly for us. Our 3-year-old son, Fin, yelled “I love you, Mommy!”
My skiing in the Moose Chase was just a very small part of my experience. Sharing the event with my family was the big/main part. After the event was over we called my parents. Hayden reported to them, happily, “I finished second to last. It was hard, but it was fun.”
Below is a video. (If you watch it to the end, which I hope you will, you’ll hear the best part, which is Fin yelling, enthusiastically, “I love you!” to us as each of us approached the finish line.)
It does not escape me that I am a very lucky girl.
NOTE: Thanks to friend, Norm Cessna, for waxing my skis with some magic.
“In every walk with Nature one receives far more than he seeks.” (John Muir)
The book, Last Child in the Woods, by Richard Louv, tells the story of today’s staggering divide between children and the outdoors. It is not a new book. I think I first read it three years ago. It has since been expanded.
The book should be required reading for all parents – and heck, even for all educators.
Louv is a journalist and author of seven books about the connections between family, nature and community. In Last Child in the Woods, Louv links today’s wired, “nature-deficit” generation with rises in obesity, attention disorders, and depression. This important book has essentially created a national conversation about the disconnection between children and nature, and its message has inspired “Leave No Child Inside” initiatives throughout the country.
As a very wired person, myself, and someone who adores the outdoors but also loves technology for its connectivity and enabling features, I’m very interested in nature-deficit disorder. Specifically, I’m interested in seeing that it doesn’t penetrate my family and the upbringing of our three young sons.
I am so enriched by my own time spent outdoors and in nature, that I really think people are robbing their lives from being full when they don’t allow for the experience of being outdoors. In my humble opinion, there is no more effective way to “create space for oneself” than to step outside. Sure, I like to go for miles outside, usually on foot. And, I’m lucky that I live on the frontier of Wyoming, where it’s pretty easy to create space. Heck, there is nothing but space here. Big open, empty space.
But a person needs only to step outside to find the opportunity for creating space and solitude. A bird’s song, the sound of a creek flowing nearby, the smell of pine, or of rain on sagebrush, fresh air or the sun’s warmth against the face. All of these things are effective in creating not only a physical, but emotional and mental space that facilitates a clearing of sorts, as well as rejuvenation, creativity, restoration and other outcomes. (Again, John Muir said it best: “Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop away from you like the leaves of Autumn.”)
Some of my most successful business ideas came to me when I was exploring some trail. I most easily solve problems or find answers to big questions during solitude in nature. And, time shared outdoors with my family often feels richer than time shared indoors.
By the way, I am grateful to my parents, who got us out often for weekends in Yellowstone, picnics on the South Pass and in Sinks Canyon and on ski outings. All of this exposure to the outdoors at an early age had a big impact on me.
Articles like Solitude and Leadership, which does a compelling job of linking solitude to leadership, are intriguing. (Thanks to friend Dan Mezick for sharing the article with me).
I am a huge fan and evangelist for the National Outdoor Leadership School (NOLS), which is headquartered here in my town of Lander, WY. NOLS teaches leadership to thousands of young and old using nature and the outdoors as a platform. Courses are provided throughout the world.
As parents of three young sons, my husband, Jerry, and I do not take the outdoors and its impact on a person lightly. We want to give it to — and require it for — our sons, Wolf, 10, Hayden, 8, and Fin, 3.
Here are some of the moments that the outdoors have facilitated for our family:
This is Post 33 of my fitness/weight loss journey blogging.
Today marks The End to something that has been very significant to me: My weight loss journey.
Just under two years ago, I weighed almost 165 pounds and was chubby and pretty lazy. Today, I am smaller than I’ve been since high school and yet stronger and more capable than ever. I weigh 129 and am not soft or lazy anymore.
My trainer and I recorded data during the journey. Here’s the proof in numbers:
What a difference 22 months and a bunch of hard work, sacrifices and commitment make.
Near the end of March 2009 – 22 months ago – I found myself in the office of friend and personal trainer Steve Bechtel, at his Elemental Training Center, in my hometown of Lander, Wyoming.
I was at the end of my rope. In a health and fitness rut, a week earlier I stepped on the scale to see what I knew but what hadn’t been verified with real data – I was overweight. The scale indicated I weighed 164.
Every night for about three years, I would retire to bed with this same, deep, nagging feeling – let’s call it what it was, REGRET – that didn’t just speak to me, it yelled, angrily at me: “Another day went by and you did nothing about it. You didn’t exercise. You didn’t eat the right things and you ate too much. You’re lazy. You feel like crap. You have young children. You’re operating a business and trying to expand it. You need more energy. You have to change things. As soon as possible. But another day went by and you, well, once again did nothing to change things.” Self-talk like this went on probably every night for three years. It was ugly.
In fairness, I should point out that I did have a lot going on in my life. My husband, Jerry, and I had two young sons at the time, and a third on the way, we owned a business, of which I was the CEO. The business was going great and I was busy innovating and capitalizing on what was abundant opportunity. I loved my work and was passionate about our business’ potential. At the same time, I was pursuing prospective partners to help put wheels on the company’s expansion plans. I was probably investing 75 hours a week toward work, plus trying to be a great mother and wife.
So if I needed excuses for my getting soft, chubby and lazy, I didn’t have to look very hard to find them. And they felt like plausible excuses, until each night when that nagging regret kicked in.
I should also point out that most of my life, up until the space between March 2006 and March 2009, I was probably in above-average health. I played basketball in college, and after that, got into mountain biking, snowboarding, snowshoeing, backpacking, trail running, distance day hiking and cross country skiing.
Hell fire, even while I weighed almost 160, I hiked the Shoshone Lake hike above Lander, which is a difficult, 21-mile hike. But I paid dearly for it for days following and certainly it was not the fantastic experience it is when I’m fit and have energy to spare and a “lighter load” to carry.
Outside of operating our business, I was no longer confident either. I was chubby and felt lazy, because, well, physically I was. My self-esteem tanked. We’d take family trips and I wouldn’t swim with Jerry and the boys at the hotel pool because I didn’t want to put a swimming suit on. I found myself turning down speaking invitations. I didn’t “go out” as much – meaning even to make simple trips to the grocery store, etc. I “hid” myself as much as possible while focusing on business and trying my best to be a good mom and wife.
So, in March 2009, shortly after I ordered the size 12 pants, and upon encouragement from my friend, Sharon, there I sat on Steve’s couch in his office at Elemental Training Center.
I won’t rehash everything here because I’ve covered my weight loss and fitness journey pretty thoroughly right here on this blog. (I’ve compiled a list containing all 33 posts with links to each here. Please check them out and feel free to share them if you think they’ll inspire others to get off the couch and add vitality and years to their lives.)
But let me say this. Basically I let three years, at least, slip by in my life that – from a vitality and health quality standpoint – were less than extraordinary. Frankly, from a health standpoint, those three years were, at best, mediocre, and it bothered me then, and now, that I can’t get that time back to do over in a more healthy body and mind.
So as I sat on the couch confronting my overweight and sloth-like status with Steve, I committed to losing weight and getting in excellent health.
One of the most important realizations I had early on that was probably more instrumental than any other thing in my weight loss journey’s success, is that there is a (huge) difference between deciding and committing.)
I have a poignant memory from that day that marked The Start of my weight loss journey: I was on my way home from my meeting with Steve and I was at a red light on Main Street waiting to turn left on S. 5th Street to head home. I thought first of the brevity of life. How short of time we have and all that’s important to me and how best can I live it to the fullest while honoring those I love so much and who love me. I realized at that time that the changes I was about to make were gigantic. They would be changes I would make for life. For eternity.
Sure, I would have to eat more vegetables. Drink more water. Eat less junk food. Exercise harder and on a regular basis. (I eventually made the decision, on my own, to give up all grains/complex carbohydrates, which for the first few weeks required monumental will power.) I would have to get up super early in the morning.
As I sat there at that red light thinking about all this, it may sound cheesy – and extreme – but I remember thinking: I am giving up frozen pizza not for a month or a year but probably for the rest of my life. The commitment was that big. I was signing up for changes that were to last a lifetime.
The change I was committing to meant more than taking a few difficult-but-temporary steps.
And, I was all in.
So, in a nutshell, yesterday, Jan. 31, 2011, The End of my weight loss journey was met. On March 20, I weighed 158 pounds and my body fat was about 27 percent. Today, I weigh 129 pounds and have 10.9% body fat.
More significantly, though, my life has gotten so much fuller and richer – on all fronts. I’m a better mother. I can not only play and romp with our three young sons, I have a fighting chance of keeping up with them on the slopes, in our wrestling matches and in foot races. I’m a better, happier, more loving wife. I am more confident in my work. I have enjoyed countless, awe-inspiring outdoor experiences during the last 22 months that I would have absolutely missed out on had I not embarked on my weight loss/fitness journey.
Among other things, I climbed the Grand Teton, completed a Grand Canyon Rim-to-Rim-to-Rim in a less than 24 hours, I placed third in my age group in the Rendezvous 25k Ski Race last year, I went on a dozen or more “epic” day hikes in my beloved Wind River Range that were 21-32 miles each.
I also learned a lot about fitness and training. Steve Bechtel is a brilliant trainer who knows his stuff. As many would agree, he could be “a trainer for the stars.” He set the bar high and drove me hard, both things I required in order to push myself. He introduced me to high intensity and metabolic training. He helped get me strong without “bulking up.” The latter is proven by the reality that while I’m significantly smaller than I’ve been since I was in high school, I’m stronger than ever. I did 21 consecutive pull-ups, 30 dips, bench-pressed 132 pounds five times, dead-lifted 135 pounds 39 times, did 26 back squats of 135 pounds, and did 16 front squats of 135 pounds.
Today, I often find myself close to (happy) tears when I think about how full and rich my life is. This is in very, very large part the result of my weight loss and fitness accomplishments.
My weight loss journey has ended, but my pursuit of staying in great fitness will never end. I have arrived at a particular weight but I know it’s an ongoing effort to stay healthy. I can say this: I’ve tasted the Koolaid and I’m never going back. I’m saying yes to vitality, great health and a full life. I’m saying no to mediocrity and to just getting by when it comes to my health. Life is too short. And I love it too much.
During these past two years, I also reinvented my professional self, and became a certified life and leadership coach, and was also recently certified by the American Fitness Professionals and Associates as a nutrition consultant. Many of my coaching clients have weight loss as a major goal in their life.
I, for one, don’t underestimate weight loss as being something that’s of significant importance in one’s life. It’s not something to toss aside as a vanity item – quite the contrary. Everything in my life is better as a result of weighing less and being more “able” to live my life to the fullest. Being the best person I can be for those who love me and for those I love is absolutely related to the condition of my health and well being. (And okay, sure, it’s also great to fit into my designer jeans.)
During the last 22 months I’ve often told people I was reinventing myself. But what happened during the last 22 months was a transformation.
My sincere thanks to my husband, Jerry, and our sons, Wolf, Hayden and Fin, who were especially important in this journey; to my parents and other family members, to my close friends, to Steve Bechtel and his team at Elemental Training Center, and to all of you who have read this blog and/or support me with your friendship and positivity. I don’t take any of it lightly, and I am grateful to all of you.
Thanks for following this journey. I will be happy to share any specifics about what I did during my weight loss journey with you, including tips and tricks. If you wish, I will also light a fire under you, if that’s what you’re needing.
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Elemental Gym has a fantastic gym, some terrific programs and classes that will help you achieve better fitness. And, I might add, some great personal trainers: Steve Bechtel, Ellen Bechtel, Jagoe Reid, Sophie Mosemann and Lee Brown.