I turn into Leadville and my watch tells me that the air quality is “unhealthy.” I respond by pushing the gas down harder, which in a Crosstrek is more of a dramatic gesture than a way to go any faster.
The week is not going as expected. Due to several setbacks of no one’s fault, we just cancelled a week-long camping trip in Colorado’s southwestern area and now I have several days off without much to show for it. I throw together a quick solo hiking trip for myself as an attempt to salvage some of the time off.
It’s the first of the month and I’m standing on a scale while holding a body tape measure. My laptop screen glows with an intensive spreadsheet behind me.
Two years ago, I decided to start taking monthly body measurements to track the various changes my body experiences throughout the year. While it may seem like a dangerous idea, every month proves to be successful for a variety of reasons worth sharing.
Before we begin, let’s establish what this article is not covering: I’m not going to tell everyone to love the body they have, that’s for each individual to manage…
It’s crazy to think that a show that started with five adults pretending to be teenagers in a slew of colorful costumes cut together with footage of a different show in Japan would ever gain traction, but the Power Rangers managed to pull it off for more than twenty-five years.
As a kid who grew up on the show and original movie, the franchise has an impact on the person I am today, and taught me valuable life lessons.
1. Escalate as appropriate
While one could argue the repetitive plots of each episode of Power Rangers was just bad writing…
I gave up New Year’s resolutions years ago for something a bit different — a word of the year. Resolutions are difficult to maintain, often forgotten, and rarely achieved. As someone who genuinely enjoys the fresh start of a new year, I shifted to finding a single word to guide me through the coming year.
This new approach, which is a popular blog topic, started to stick with me after reading The Alchemist. …
This is part two of a longer story. Read part one here.
In the middle of the forest, no one hears me scream.
I’m told I will know my corneal erosion healed from the anterior stromal puncture after about eight weeks. The procedure was seven weeks ago.
The Milky Way paints the sky with the absence of city lights, and the mountain is silent — minus the sound of my haphazard human howling.
I’m alone in a tent with zero medical supplies or mirrors, so I have no idea how bad the damage is. All I know is my cornea…
It feels like Freddy Kruger pays a visit every night.
In the era of BLM and COVID-19, my problems are minimal at best. I am fortunate enough to be in a safe home with a comfortable bed, and I feel confident that I will be healthy (and employed) in the morning. But morning is far away.
Eye drops, ointments, gels, and pastes litter the floor around me. I have a humidifier aimed straight at my face and I’m staring at the ceiling, afraid to fall asleep. …
What started as a plastic toy (well, wood toy, but that’s a long history lesson) is now a studded, plastic key to creativity. LEGO bricks are loved by all ages, and can play a pivotal role in a child’s upbringing and development. While the bricks are intended to help develop motor skills, creativity, and spatial reasoning, there is no doubt the life lessons of LEGO bricks extend far beyond the plastic studs.
1. You have to break down the good to build up the great
People often strive for good. Good is comfortable, good is obtainable, and good is better…
My metal water bottle once featured an REI sticker in the shape of Texas. I tore it off one day, likely on a day I was frustrated with Texas summer heat. I’m picking at the sticker’s residue to avoid looking up.
“But what if you change things for just one person?”
This statement from my therapist makes me pause. About 70 percent of the sticker residue is gone, and now it looks like the remaining 30 percent is going to have to wait for another session where I don’t want to actively look at the person trying to help me.
“This is going to hurt. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to do this.”
I’m staring at the Epi-Pen in my hand. The lid and case are below my feet, wobbling on the ground in the parking garage. I can feel my throat tightening, and focusing my vision on the bright yellow epinephrine pen in my hand is getting increasingly difficult as my eyes continue to swell.
I am not sure how and when I am going to die, but I am certain that moment is not inside a rental Toyota Corolla in the basement of a…