I’m an outdoor adventurer living in Vancouver, BC. I love exploring the outdoors all-year round, whether pushing for a summit or camping next to an alpine lake while challenging my Type 1 Diabetes (T1D). I hope to inspire others by sharing stories and I hope to be inspired by like-minded Type 1s within our community.
Trying to convey peak performance is tough because it’s an indescribable feeling. It’s a momentary feeling when you’re hitting your stride – whatever you choose to do, you know you’ll do it well. It’s a period of superior functioning.
At some point, you’ve likely experienced a euphoric, feel-good day in the mountains. You were focused, fearless, and calm, and you experienced little stress. You had full control over your thoughts and emotions. You had an unshakable belief that you could do anything you set your mind to (within your physical limits, of course). You reached the zone of optimal functioning. Read More
Well, it’s a beeeautiful Monday morning, and I’m sitting inside with the blinds and windows closed to study for upcoming tests and wrap up a few assignments. Ah, the Summer semester. The downside, I get bogged down with school work on days like this and I tend to free up my schedule just in time for a grey and rainy day outside. The upside, I’ll finish my degree sooner than later.
Ryan & I had an easy weekend of running errands and getting things together for our cabin. We were pressed for time to get outside for anything major; on Sunday we hiked to Norvan Falls (the most senseless hike in North Vancouver) and completed the Lynn Loop (I recommend it). Read More
I’ve got a simple one-liner to explain why I hike, but first I’ll get into the background story as to why the thought even crossed my mind lately.
Ryan and I were in the North Shore mountains this weekend. We explored the full Dreamweaver trail (details coming soon); between the first 2km and the last 2km of trail, we didn’t see a single soul. Let me elaborate, it was a gorgeous, hot, sunny day in a popular area, and we didn’t see fellow hikers for most of our hike. I know, crazy. We spent a majestic day in the trees, forded an icy cold Mosquito creek, found relics of old logging camps, and stumbled (sometimes literally) upon remaining, massive old growth trees. I was happy as could be. A little too happy, given the lack of difficulty and views. Naturally, I started questioning my sentiments.