I remember lamenting with my siblings a few years back how New Year’s Eve is kind of the worst. “There’s so much pressure to do something spectacular to cap off the year,” my brother pointed out. I had to agree — New Year’s Eve always felt like an afterthought, then would suddenly arrive and impose.

Most New Year’s Eves I’ve had were nothing to write home about. The best one, ironically, was NYE 2019 — as in, right before COVID hit. My middle school friends and I went to one of their family cabins in Vermont, where we went sledding, drank Heady Toppers, played drinking games, and took shotskis. 2020 is our year! We were so wrong. The following year, I had grand plans to go to Vegas with two of my best friends for NYE, which came to a grinding halt when I landed and found out my brother had COVID. Cue me quarantining for the next two weeks in my apartment, alone and restless. read more

Still in hot pursuit of a full-time job, my life has become the busiest it has ever been, thanks to the two part-time jobs I picked up. Now a hostess and a seasonal sales associate at REI, I am constantly interacting with human beings and moving around. Though it’s only been a couple of months, I’ve learned a lot about myself, strangers, and the minutiae of running shoes and hiking boots. It’s more than I ever expected.

In both jobs, I’m getting thousands of steps a day. The restaurant where I work isn’t even big, and yet, I comfortably get anywhere between 6,000 and 10,000 steps per shift — and the shifts are usually only 3-4 hours. Likewise, at REI, I’ll usually get 8-13,000 steps per shift, hustling between three footwear “warehouses.” To say I underestimated how physically demanding these customer service roles are would be a gross understatement. What initially felt like an overwhelming amount of physical activity (considering I am always actively training for running and climbing too) now feels relatively manageable. My running coach, David (who ironically I met at REI and now WORK with), commented during my first week, “The time on your feet in this job is awesome!” At least my coach wasn’t worried. I did think to myself the other day: if working these two jobs builds my endurance (long hours, walking/running around, staying mentally active), I’ve got to believe they’ll make me an even better ultra runner. read more

“What a place to find ourselves,” Nate mused.

Since the moment he said the words, I’ve been meditating on the double entendre. We were outside of Crested Butte, on our second pass of three for the day: Copper Creek. Nate had improbably acquired backcountry permits for both Maroon Bells and Conundrum Hot Springs in a single weekend and had invited me along for the latter. We had met up the previous evening, camped near the trailhead, and had hiked roughly 10 miles toward the hot springs — the long, scenic way. When he said, “What a place to find ourselves,” Nate meant that the scenery was unparalleled. Hiking in this area of Colorado during peak foliage season is somewhat unreal. Every viewpoint we got seemed even more pristine; we were practically living inside a postcard. I couldn’t help but feel so enormously grateful. read more

I’ve been living so much in anticipation of events, that I’ve hardly taken any time to consider the events themselves. It really hit me this last Saturday.

All summer, I’ve been training for an event hosted by my climbing gym, CityROCK: Battle Royale. It’s a sport climbing competition that they last hosted in 2019 and in fact was won by Paris 2024 Olympic athletes Natalia Grossman and Colin Duffy. After 5 years, CityROCK had decided to bring it back. It differs from the gym’s typical “Downtown Local” comps in that there’s a cash prize ($500 for first place) and the tie breaker boils down to “the battle route.” Essentially, the battle route is such a challenging route that your goal is just to make it as far as up it possible, not necessarily finish it. If you are the male or female who makes it the furthest, you are automatically put into the finals round. Otherwise, the judges are looking at your top 3 hardest finishes. There are 20 routes, #1 being the easiest/fewest points and #20 being the hardest/most points. You get extra points if you “flash” the route (i.e. finish it on your first try) and additional points if you lead the route, rather than top rope. You get 4 hours to get your 3 routes and the top 8 climbers in each category advance. read more

I don’t think I was a dreamer as a kid. It’s not that I had no aspirations, but rather saw infinite possibility. I didn’t latch onto one particular dream or accomplishment because there were too many to choose from. Instead, I just worked really hard at what I did. I worked hard at school, on the field hockey field, and in the climbing gym. Whatever I did, I just tried to do it well.

When I was very little, I had an obsession with Annie, the musical. I do recall wanting to be her, on stage, for a brief time. Once that impossible dream subsided, like a lot of kids, I thought I wanted to be a veterinarian “when I grew up.” Accompanying my dad to put down our golden retriever, Dixie, at age 12 quickly dispelled that idea too. I don’t remember having any career ideas in my teens, and I certainly wasn’t ready to declare a major when I applied to colleges. The reason I majored in psychology wasn’t because I wanted to be a psychologist, either; I just loved the classes and never felt like the work was real work. It was just fun. I wanted to spend my four years enjoying my education, not loathing it. read more

October 9, 2023

It’s been two months since we lost our dear corgi, Chowder, and I can’t say I’ve processed the loss fully. I suppose grieving is never a complete process; you continually learn how to cope with the reality of the situation. Over time, I’ve found that you start smiling in memory of the passed loved one, rather than tear up. But it’s been a lot of both for me.

When we first lost Chowder, I was bereft but had no emotional space to be. I was far from home — both Colorado Springs and Warwick — with other stressful matters at play. I wanted to give Chowder the proper thought and mourning he deserved, but I couldn’t do it. I’m trying to now. read more

“A project is a route or boulder problem that’s at the cusp of your climbing limit. Professional climbers will have projects that they work on for years. They’ll have a route in say, France, that they’ll return to every year to try and send,” I explained to my brother on the phone on Friday. “So this route, The Sub, it’s our project. It’s a 5.12d. I don’t know how much you know about climbing ratings, but supposedly, if you can climb anything that’s 5.12, you’re in the top 10% of climbers. But if you can climb 5.13, you’re in the top 1% of climbers. I am trying to send 5.13a. But first, this 5.12d.” read more

Thursday, May 9 – 8:30 p.m.

I feel like a dumb girl and am completely OK with it.

I’ll explain.

Sometime back in March, I decided I would rent out my house for at least the month of May. I had already rented it out for March, and given my not-super-great salary, it was such a relief to have someone else cover my mortgage. I knew I’d be gone for most of May, so it seemed like a no-brainer. I started looking for renters.

I was contacted by a couple looking to rent in the Springs while they searched for a home. They were looking for a place for at least 6 months — that, I couldn’t do. I turned them down for a girl looking to rent from the end of May to August. read more

The piano notes were unmistakable as I entered the liquor store. I froze in my tracks.

“Ryan, I can’t believe this. They’re playing some incredibly niche Paul McCartney in here. Like, 2005 Paul McCartney. It’s an album my dad always played — Chaos and Creation in the Backyard. See, this is why Weber is the best.”

I am incredibly fond of Weber Street Liquor. It’s the liquor store for my alma mater, Colorado College. Students frequent this place so often, when school starts back up in August, Weber hangs a banner out front that says “Welcome home, Tigers!” My roommate, Marta, and I were regulars during our college years. Recognizing that we knew virtually nothing about craft beer, we embarked on a beer “connoisseurship.” We’d build a mix-and-match 6-pack (affectionately dubbed a “mixy sixy”) with some arbitrary rule (e.g. select only beers in purple cans). Then we’d proceed to split each beer over the course of the week, rate them out of 5, and write up a review. I would tape a torn piece of scrap paper to the can with our summary, and Marta would plant a succulent in the can. The good old days. read more

“His last name is just so rare and fun-sounding, I have to believe it must mean something very specific — like, ‘little cup of chocolate.'”

I laughed and shook my head at my dad. We were heading to Colorado to visit family friends in Grand Lake, but first with a stop to the Front Range. There, we’d visit Colorado College, my eventual alma mater (though at the time I was undecided) and link up with my dad’s friend, John (“Captain”), in Boulder. My dad had asked Captain if he knew of any climbing guides who could take me out on some real rock. One of the strongest pulls for me to go to college in Colorado was rock climbing, but as a primarily gym climber, I wanted to see and feel the rocks myself. Captain knew just the guy: Rob Coppolillo. Or as my dad would henceforth refer to him, Rob ‘Little Cup of Chocolate.’ read more

I recently caught up with my family friend, John Mann, over a beer in Colorado Springs. He was asking me what’s new, as he always does. I always seem a bit of a mess, too restless to ever stop flitting from one activity to another. I told him how some things had all come to a head this last month, and he responded, “Sounds like you were running so fast, you got caught.” I could not have said it better myself.

Ryan likes to drive me crazy by saying ridiculous pithy statements. He’ll say something like, “What a time to have a time,” in a magnanimous dad voice, or, “Well, I guess it’s about that time we shut our eyes, don’t you think?” I think that despite my exasperation, I’m still slightly amused because these comments aren’t that rare for actual dads to say. As someone who has lots of “dad friends,” I hear these inane statements all the time. Even in my work, I review off-road trail submissions by dads across the country, writing the same practically meaningless comments. My favorite recently: “This trail is an adventure of adventures.” read more

Ever since working for Clif Bar & Company, I’ve had an obsession with the Consumer Packaged Goods (CPG) industry. At Clif, I’d read articles daily about flavor trends, new products, and consumer insights. I can’t say why I was so interested, but I got hooked. I’d look for specific releases at the store and tell people about the rise of probiotics and nostalgic flavors.

Concurrently, I was semi-jokingly trying to get “sponsored” by Clif. Really, I just wanted Clif (or any other admirable CPG brand) to send me free products that I would then post about on Instagram through silly videos and pictures. I didn’t want to be paid, necessarily; I just wanted to rep brands I liked and not pay for their products. I do a lot of fun outdoor activities — wouldn’t brands love to see me making posts about their products while I’m jogging down a mountain trail or hanging off a boulder? read more

I was rummaging through the guest bathroom drawers when I found the white t-shirts. Wrapping up a short visit to my grandparents at their condo in Longboat Key, I was checking for any missing items to pack. It was a stack of undershirts. Nothing out of the ordinary – mostly Hanes brand – a few more rumpled than others. I knew immediately that they belonged to my grandfather. In an instant, I was sure I would take one. I inspected their sizes and fits (and honestly, their cleanliness – my grandfather is where I get my tendency to spill food on myself) and settled on a V-neck. Into the suitcase it went. read more

New year, same me. 2024 arrived without any bells and whistles, and I’m alright with it. I don’t find myself accidentally writing or typing 2023, mercifully. 2023 was so tumultuous that 2024, in contrast, entered the room calm, cool, and collected.

My new friend, Maddie, introduced me to the idea of your “magnetic” self. It’s a version of you that you haven’t quite reached, but it’s an elevated version — a version you are striving for. We were out climbing with her partner, Eric, who was struggling on his project (a 5.14, the animal that he is). She was explaining how Eric’s magnetic self could be the Eric that sends 5.14 with strength and grace, even though current Eric is doing a messy job of it right now. read more

I recently stopped by Ryan’s house to make lunch. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Ryan was still coming back from an appointment, and his mom, Doris, insisted I eat a small bowl of soup before he got back. She had just made chicken and rice with carrots, and she quickly fixed me a bowl, heating it up and sprinkling pepper on top. I couldn’t complain.

Ryan eventually returned and helped himself to soup too. Maybe we didn’t really need to cook, after all. When we don’t eat a meal, we eat kind of a smorgasbord of snacks instead, which I’m always fine with. Ryan proceeded to pull out yogurt and make two bowls, adding honey, granola, and raspberries. Then he opened a packet of Clif Thins, spread both with peanut butter, drizzled some honey on top, and handed me one. A somewhat random lunch, but pretty tasty. read more

It was the first week of October that got me thinking.

I had been back in Colorado Springs for less than a week, and I was catching up with my friend Jenny over a trail run and coffee. We had been discussing a variety of things, when she paused mid-sentence and asked, “How old are you again?”

“26. Turning 27 next month.”

“Man, you’re still so young. But I will say — 27 was a hard year. Not just for me, but it seemed like it was difficult for a lot of my friends. It’s something about being 5 years out of college, wondering if you’re on the right path…” read more

One of my favorite aspects of reading Lord of the Rings is the very niche verbiage Tolkien uses. The best word he uses, in my opinion, is errantry: the quality, condition, or fact of wandering; especially : a roving in search of chivalrous adventure. If I could use a word to synthesize how I wish my life to be … it would be that one.

Sometimes I think that I am so logistically-obsessed that I never leave room for things to just happen seamlessly. In other words, I always think I’m going encounter some sort of snag or hurdle that will hamper my plans. (It reminds me of a great quote from my grandmother, Joan Rita Laico: “I always assume I’m gonna get screwed over, and I usually do!” … but not that extreme.) read more

When people bring up the TV show Ted Lasso, I always commend it for its approach to mental health. I truly feel it destigmatizes the subject in a way that’s not overbearing but seeks to educate its viewers — particularly the episode in which Ted has a panic attack. As a person who’s had panic attacks in the past, I felt the episode did an accurate job of depicting the sensation of one. How your surroundings can be perfectly harmless — fun, even — but as the individual, everything feels wrong. Your sense of reality gets lost in the fray. read more

You know those times in life that try as you might, it seems like the universe is working against you? Life feels a little like that right now. I can’t really complain — I’m healthy, (still) employed, and manage to find joy in every day. I suppose the frustration lies in how the effort I’m putting into things seems to prove a little fruitless. Things will turn around eventually, I’m certain. I wouldn’t have made it this long if it weren’t for that firmly held belief: that even though I don’t know how or when, the dust will settle. I will be OK. Waiting patiently for that dust to settle can be a tall order at times, though. read more

January 3rd had every right to be a crappy day. It was the first day back to work. Holiday blues were setting in. Resolutions had already been broken (dry January ended for me at 7 p.m. on January 1, when I unblinkingly accepted a glass of champagne). And just the knowledge that it was only day three of arguably the worst month of the year zapped pretty much all motivation out of me.

I had been juggling a handful of projects prior to Christmas break, and I was absolutely dreading having to catch them, left suspended in mid-air for two weeks. What was my job again? What do I even do for a living? The answers weren’t there. read more

Last year, I made one of my New Year’s resolutions “eat more cake.” It had occurred to me that we often reserve cake for solely birthdays, when it’s a dessert worth having on a much more regular basis. I am proud to say that I CRUSHED that resolution.

Other resolutions I actually fulfilled included “do/see more things that blow your mind” and “have an espresso martini.” I failed, however, to have a hair-braiding party, buy more blue potatoes and purple carrots, and explore more national parks. read more

It’s the time of year that every publication posts best-of lists and every app has your personalized year in review. We all feel this need to summarize our year, to look back on the last 12 months with some newfound wisdom or growth. People always characterize their year as “full of ups and downs” as if that weren’t how life simply is. Still, I suppose the end of the year is as good a time as any to reflect, for if life weren’t punctuated this way, when would we?

This year felt very eventful and honestly exhausting compared to the last couple. Obviously, there was a pandemic at play, but in 2021, I did go to the Tokyo Olympics for a month, and that was enough taxing on my body (and brain) to last the entire year. This year didn’t have so many momentous moments per se, but it just had a constant restlessness, more so than the norm. In contrast, I remember 2019 feeling like an actually momentous year: running my first marathon, graduating from college, starting my first real jobs. There were some big LIFE moments that year. read more

Tomorrow, I’m going to compete in a climbing competition for the first time since middle school. I’ve always been unnecessarily stressed by individual competition, which is why I avoided running track beyond 9th grade and felt genuinely relieved to walk away from climbing competitions when I went to boarding school. There were some climbing comps in college, but I either purposely showed up to them too late (maybe tipsy) or was one of the monitors to set the boulder problems, thus eliminating myself. read more

It was a hard week. I knew I was signing myself up for mental and emotional exhaustion this month and the next with all of the activity I had planned. I arrived home on Sunday having been gone since Labor Day. In the time between, I had been from Colorado Springs to Durango to Ouray to Telluride back to Ouray to Colorado Springs to San Francisco to Fort Collins and back again. All of those travels had been well worth it; I reconnected with college friends, ran the sickest race of my life, finally met some of my coworkers in person, and did some adventuring with relatively new, but lovely friends in Colorado. I was set to leave for home in New York on Thursday, with a concert in Boulder on Wednesday, so I planned to hunker down at home for the few days in between. Sometimes life doesn’t care if you have a plan, though. read more

In the past two months, I got COVID, ran an inordinate number of ill-conceived and hot miles, traveled to Clif Bar headquarters, dog sat seven pups across three different towns, and limped to the finish line, a bachelorette weekend (though very mellow) in Savannah. I probably spent a week total in my own home in July. And as exhausted as I am, I know that once I settle back down in Colorado Springs, I’ll start bitching about how BORED I am after about a week. I think I’m resigned to living my life in this constant battle between hating and craving routine. I suppose I’m living consciously enough that I care one way or the other. read more

I started a post in February and now it’s complete. Better late than never I guess … but also there wasn’t a deadline?

In Colorado, having a car is somewhat non-negotiable. Unless you live in Boulder or Denver, the public transportation is so poor that it can take you up to two hours to get somewhere that takes 15 minutes in Colorado Springs. The Springs is relatively bike-able (nowhere near the immaculately designed Boulder bike paths, but you can get from point A to B), but chances are, you’re not trying to hang out in Colo Spgs all the time. read more

The word optimization seems to be dominating my life lately. Optimize your omnichannel strategy to see the greatest ROI. Optimize your supplement and protein intake to repair muscles faster. Optimize your peanut butter to jelly ratio for the perfect sandwich. You get the idea. For a while, I used this buzzword frequently, thinking I sounded knowledgeable when I did so. Now, I find the whole concept dizzying. While optimization isn’t perfection, it is striving for it, in a sense — and that’s why it feels unattainable at times. read more

I’ve been accumulating a lot of thoughts over the past month, fluctuating between waves of feeling so compelled to write and feeling like writing is the last thing I want to do. I’ve always thought that writing was the way I was meant to express myself — that it would express my feelings better than anything else could. I still believe this, fundamentally, but I lately feel at a loss for expressing myself, period. It’s good and bad. Good, in the sense that I truly do feel like I’m living in the present. I’m taking one day at a time, not looking too far ahead, not dwelling on the past. At the same time, my head and my heart seem to be all out of whack. read more