2020: Goodbye and Goodnight

January 10, 2021

Like a bad dream or a bad date, when 2020 was over I felt less motivated to reflect as I was to move on. From COVID-19 and the economic downturn to the isolation, cancelled everything and political and social unrest, 2020 seemed to be outdoing itself weekly for worst (unending) year ever.

However, after I woke up on New Year’s Day, 2021 I was able to find the courage to think back and look back at the past 12 months we endured. In truth, things weren’t all bad. I had paid down a sizable amount of my student loan debt, read or listened to a dozen books, investing in my physical fitness, grew my partnership with my girlfriend, and even improved my personal habits by adopting a new budgeting process thanks to Dave Ramsey.

What I recalled were gems amongst the hardship including the top five bright points in a challenging year.

2020, here’s to the good days!

Orcas Island 50K

Neither my girlfriend or I had entries to Orcas 50K this February, but on the off chance a runner wanted to sell their bib we put a call out to a local running bulletin board. To our luck, two bibs turned up. (Remember, this is pre-COVID, lockdown when running races and socializing.) After payment, Emily and I had race entries to this loved, early-season run. However, we lacked reservations on the ferry for our car. How then could we get from the ferry terminal to the cabins on Moran State Park? Our answer: bike it.

We parked our car on the mainland side of the dock and walked our bikes loaded with gear onto the ferry. When we arrived at Orcas Island, we hopped on our bikes and peddled the 18-or-so hilly miles to Camp Moran on the far end of Orcas Island. The race itself was what we have known it to be: scenic and full of amazing friends. This year’s twist was flooded trails. You see while race day was dry, storms the night before flooded the course making the majority of the trails look like crystal-clear streams. Runners had to tramp through these new waterways as we proceeded made progress on the 50K course.

Eventually though we finished the race and enjoyed a beer. After a shower and a sleep in the cabins, the following morning Emily and I rode back to the ferry and crisined what will forever now be called the Orcas Island Triathlon.

Adopting Maple

I adopted my first dog Luna nine years ago. Ever since she has been my adventure partner and constant companion. When Emily entered the picture two and a half years ago, she loved Luna like her own. I thought I was a dog guy, but Emily really loves furry friends, and maybe unlike me, wanted them all around 24/7 by the dozen. We had talked about the concept of adopting another dog as a sibling to Luna, but I always viewed it as future planning just like how one talks about fly fishing and retirement, or organizing the garage. That is until a friend-of-a-friend experienced an unplanned litter between their male Pomeranian and female full-sized Aussie Shepherd. (It turns out he actually impregnated two Aussies within a little over a month. The pup has spirit.)

Within just a week of learning of this opportunity, Emily and I were looking at photos of the eight-week-old puppies while also organizing with friends to adopt the whole lot. While I wasn’t sure how Luna would manage having a puppy in the house, I trusted that she would take cues from Emily and myself, and be the sweetheart packleader she is.

“Ok, let’s do it.”

At ten-weeks-old we picked up Maple from her mother’s family in Maple Valley. The five-pound puppy was chocolate brown, quiet and sleepy. Unlike when I adopted Luna at four-months who already had an expressive personality, this puppy was younger and let out fewer cues as to what her personality would blossom into over the next few months. I remember driving home and thinking, “…here we go.”

When we introduced Maple to Luna her older sister immediately showed interest and was gentle with her inquiring nose. My concerns that Luna wouldn’t take to having another female dog in the house were immediately put at ease. It all worked out. And it has.

Maple

Luna

Maple has grown into a hyperactive 30-pound nervous, brave, silly and spirited family member. Luna has remained her loving sister, even when Maple incessantly barks inches from her face each morning, or attempts to goat her into a game of tug-of-war. While raising a puppy has been work, it has also been remarkably rewarding. I couldn’t be happier that we welcomed Maple into our family. This was doubly rewarding because, due to a work remote format thanks to COVID, I spent nearly all of Maple’s first year of life at home with the little lady. I was privileged to see her grow. I even had the fortune of making a movie about the benefits of having a puppy during COVID. The Bright Side was featured in the June edition of the Trail Running Film Festival.

COVID Shutdown & Social Unrest

After a fairly uneventful January and February, March roared in like a storm. The previously isolated outbreak of COVID-19 started sweeping through the nation, and that reign took hold first in the Pacific Northwest. Governors put in place emergency orders closing businesses, cancelling events and ordering the public to stay home. My job switched to an entirely work-remote format. This reduced my 1,000+ mile monthly commute to just walking to the front bedroom, but it also created a sense of isolution. With the exception of running around the neighborhood or shopping for food, I never left the house.

Then things got even more intense.

The killing of George Floyd by Minneapolis police drove protests and vandalism to erupt in many cities. Fearing riots and theft, landlords threw up plywood over doors and windows transforming my home of Tacoma overnight. Every part of my life last spring was in flux and flush with anxiety. However, through it all I tried to remind myself that I was lucky to have a job and home, and family and friends. I took it a day at a time, and eventually I had enough space to realize the positive things coming from this change: a call for police accountability, and respect for all people.

Now working from home, I got to skip my 2-2.5 hour daily commute. If I do the math I estimate that in 2020 I saved over 300 hours of sitting in traffic inching along on I-5 North. This time savings is the equivalent of watching the cinematic treasurer Titanic… 100 times. This also meant I got to spend more time with my family. I could enjoy morning walks together and evening runs on my own at night. While COVID and the economic downturn were frightening, this also inspired a certain spirit of togetherness between friends with in-person hangouts replaced by group messaging.

“Crazy world”

“Hang in there”

“Let me know if you need anything”

These were the kind words that we shared as we saw the world around us change by the hour. Things were bad and worrisome, but last spring we also had simpler lives. We didn’t worry about shopping for fashionable clothes or having perfect hair (note: hair salons were closed for months). We just worried about getting a few extra rolls of toilet paper, and binging Tiger King. Life was tough and scary, but we were getting through it together, or at least that was how it felt.

Housework

With vacations cancelled and most businesses closed, we did what would be expected and worked on our house. Our first project was adding an above the oven microwave hood. That went fairly easy except for the part where I had to drill through wall tile. Brutal. Next up was replacing three large front windows from the original construction in 1948, and two side windows in the rear of the house.

Installed microwave hood and fan (special thanks to my Dad and brother Mike for coaching from NY by phone)
Replaced five windows including the conversion of a traditional double-hung in the kitchen to a garden box

When compared to the months-long work we did last year on the house, this project was pretty easy. Help from a few friends and one handyman and the old windows were removed and the new windows (plus a new garden box) were installed within a few weeks. The entire project was educational in that we learned how easy it was to punch giant holes in our house and how jury-rigged the construction looked when you peek inside the 1948-built wall. The end result was fantastic and the total cost was surprisingly reasonable due to our sweat labor, thrift and help from friends.

Outdoor Adventures

Once the lockdown took place nearly all of my planned races were cancelled, however that didn’t mean all hope was lost for normalcy. I got to crew my girlfriend as she ran the Wonderland Trail over three days in blisteringly hot July. Later in the month I got to celebrate turning 39 while finishing the Never Summer 100K in Gould, Colorado. In August I also climbed Glacier Peak as a one-day adventure, biked to Carbon Glacier, and sprinkled in the circumnavigations of St. Helens on the Loowit Trail and Mt. Hood on the Timberline Trail. Below are a few films that recap the prized outings.

Creative Life

While I wasn’t able to visit my family in NY or take trips abroad during the COVID-19 lockdown in 2020, the extra time at home meant I could refine my filmmaking. In a year lacking much socialization, I am thankful I was able to make some of my most rewarding film projects. This included my first feature using my Blackmagic Pocket Cinema 4K camera, the previously mentioned Bright Side, but I also was able to deepen my use of animations, sound effects and had my first use of a map visual artist from the production site Fivver. Below are my tip four projects from the year.

Dick’s Long Ride: Tour de Volcanoes
Edited from 30+ days of of GoPro footage, at 30-minutes this is my longest video project ever. I was proud of the narrative I was able to find within the content. This film was featured in the Trail Film Fest August Edition.
Mt. Missteps: Episode 1: Broken Ankle Atop Mt. Stuart
As my first contacted project, I was gifted stunning rescue footage and was able to weave that together with Zoom recordings to create an educational and entertaining film. This film was featured in the Trail Film Fest December Edition.
Climbing Glacier Peak
This is an ass-kicker of a run. I loved capturing each stage of the outing and pulling it into a memorable video.
The Bright Side
Created during the heat of the Pandemic lockdown, I crowdsourced footage from friends from across Western Washington. This film was featured in the Trail Film Festival June Edition.

Election Hope

As a backdrop to the COVID-19 pandemic, economic downturn, wildfires, and social strife, we of course had the 2020 elections. After over two years of campaigning, voters cast their ballots in November. After nearly four years of Trump politics, lies and spin, I was pessimistic that the results would turn my favor. I knew that few presidents have been limited to a single term and that the pulpit of the position made it hard for challenges to break through the noise, even established leaders like Joe Biden.

(Side note: Joe was always my Grandmother Joan’s favorite. Love you, Grandma!)

While election day had it’s surprises, we didn’t have a definitive result by night’s end. However, it did look like Biden would win out. It would take several weeks before we realized that Biden would be our next president. After such a disruptive year this was a true gift. My girlfriend and I were having a fire outside on our patio when the news came in.

“The news channels have called it. Even Fox News. They called the election for Biden!”

This announcement occurred simultaneously to the now infamous Trump campaign Four Seasons Landscaping press conference inspiring countless Internet memes. Trump resisted conceding for weeks (and as of this second, still hasn’t), but the world knew the truth. I’m hopeful that a new direction for the country will start on January 20th.

2020 is over, a largely but not entirely terrible year where good things won out. Let’s roll into 2021 with hope that the pandemic will end, that cooler politics heads will win out, and that we don’t repeat the mistakes of last year, while amplifying the positive that came from 2020.

What are your most important moments in your life? And why?

The Five Most Important Moments in My Life (and Why You Should Do This Exercise, Too)

September 1, 2020

In our new post-COVID work-remote environment, my marketing colleagues and I have conference calls daily. Occasionally these calls are not held for talking through specific projects, but are instead meant for us to simply catch up and connect. This is an essential practice for any team now that the “How was your weekend?” desk flyby doesn’t happen in our new work-remote reality.

During one recent call a colleague mentioned that he did an exercise with his employees to help sustain that connection. He and his team brainstormed their five most important moments in their life. Previously I had heard of this exercise, but had yet to experience myself. So, a few weeks ago I closed my work laptop at 5PM and did some reflecting.

What has been important for me? What stands out in my memory?

The Reflection Exercise

Without formal guidelines, my operational definition was that these moments didn’t have to be good, bad or whatever. They just had to be important and influential to my life story and journey. My process then was to reflect and refine the list that came to mind. And with an editorial lens, I had to pick just five total moments—a small total for a 39-year-old with a strong memory and a passion for storytelling. The order of the list wouldn’t be importance because they don’t rank in my mind in any way beyond chronological. Ok, let’s give this a try:

Why You Should Do This Too

It’s easy to lose perspective when life doesn’t go your way: you don’t get the job you wanted, the girl/guy you pined for, or your dream vacation falls apart. That’s life. However, by reflecting on the momentous moments of one’s life, you might realize that when sometimes things don’t work out one way, they work out in another way you might not have realized previously. Try it out.

My Five Most Important Moments in My Life:

1999: “You’ve Got to Own It”

That’s me on the left circa 1999, along with my Uncle Joel, Father Rich and Brother Mike (Left to right). What were my plans? Where was I going? I had no idea. Notice the Newburgh Mall customer service embroidered polo.

I was 18 at the time. While I had graduated from high school this was a year and a half later. I wasn’t in college now (dropped out of community college classes) or any school and had no path in sight. I was working my night job at a mall customer service desk (adorned in a blue logo-wear polo—stylin’). This wasn’t terrible work, but definitely didn’t scream career or life direction, and barely paid enough for gas or car insurance to get to the job.

One evening while taking a momentary break from renting out strollers and issuing gift cards, I rang my Mom at home to check in. During this call—in a moment of self-pity—I complained about my situation, lack of direction and motivation, and ‘crumby mall job’.

After patiently listening for a few minutes, my Mom cut in. With her New York Italian-American accent she encouraged, “You’ve got to own this”, and reminded me I was over 18 now. By ‘own’ she meant my life and decisions—it was mine for better or worse, and as a [young] adult I was now in charge. While her words stung on the phone, within a few minutes of hanging up I knew exactly what my Mom meant. By the end of my shift at 9:30PM I didn’t just begrudgingly accept my Mom’s guidance, I heard it as a rallying cry.

“I DO own this… and I will figure this out..”

My mother’s words ignited a fire inside me that eventually lead me to college, to the Northwest, to a career and to the life I have now. I couldn’t be more grateful for her kick in the pants. And this simple parental truth keeps on giving to this day—twenty years later. Thanks Mom (you were right)! I hope I’ve made you proud with the choices I’ve made since that most important call.

2005: “I’m Moving to Seattle”

DC was a loved place, but would it be my future?

During college, I had the fortune to take an internship working for the US Government in D.C.—two internships in fact. The first involved working during the boiling DC summer for the USDA on a communications team. The second was longer, more intensive and involved working for a communications department serving the US Supreme Court. I grew particularly close to my colleagues there and felt proud to enter the Thurgood Marshall Building each day and walk past the sculpture of the namesake and deceased Supreme Court Justice. This is why I was particularly thrilled to get a job offer a few months later in my last semester of school. The offer was to join the same team once I finished school in June. Plus, I loved DC and already had a friend network in the city. All I had to do was finish school and a whole new chapter of my life would begin.

The most fleeting of things would interrupt this plan.

In February 2005—just months from graduating—I was watching the 24/7 news channel Headline News one afternoon. The ticker tearing across the bottom of the cluttered screen announced a stat that would forever change my life. It say “2004 Study: Seattle most athletic/active city in US.” I ignored the talking heads and other stock market analysis and zeroed in on that single factoid. Despite having never visited the Pacific Northwest or having friends or family there, that little fact immediately made the city captivating to me.

Should I move there instead?

I had become physically active in college—adding 25 lbs of muscle to my frame from weight lifting, while also mixing in 5k runs, rock climbing and more recently, road cycling. As I wrapped up my senior year being active for me was no longer a pastime or just a way to stay fit. While I still wouldn’t consider myself an athlete until years later, being outside and challenging myself physically had begun to take hold as a core part of identity. That evening on a call with my parents I asked them if they had any friends in Seattle. My Mom did!

“Yes, my friend’s sister lives out there. If you’d like, I could ask if Sara could tour you on a visit.”

“Absolutely!”, I replied. Just a few days later I booked a flight for the upcoming Spring break, just a few weeks away.

Sarah Sausner was a student at the University of Washington. During my four day visit she showed me around the gorgeous college filled with rows of brick buildings and cherry blossom trees overflowing with pink petals. We had beers at hip, local pubs, and even took a day trip up north to Deception Pass State Park where I saw my first Bald Eagle out in nature (not on a flag or nature documentary).

“I didn’t even know those were still alive”, I offered in amazement.

By the time I was walking through security at SeaTac on my journey home, my mind and heart was set. I would decline that job with the Federal Judiciary and skip moving back to my loved DC. Instead I knew I had to find a way to Seattle. When I announced this to my college friend Leon he was surprised by the news.

“Moving to Seattle? Really? How far is that from Denver?”, he asked.

“It’s sorta close—kinda like NY and Rhode Island. You should move with me”, I replied. I knew he loved Colorado and was considering it as one option for his post-college life. It’s just neither of us realized how big the America West is—nothing like the compact New England. Luckily, I did end up moving to Seattle in the summer of 2005, along with Leon and his girlfriend, and later a half dozen other friends from college.

This migration was inspired all by information momentarily displayed on a Headline News ticker. And I couldn’t be more thankful for how my life zigged and zagged to get here.

July 2005: Leon (center), his girlfriend Sarah (right) and a random stranger I met on Craigslist, Ari (left), and me (bottom) all pack into our two cars and start the long drive West.

2009: “See You on the Flip Side”

My underbite caused tremendous strain on my TMJ joint. Eventually I realized I had to bite the bullet and get braces at the age of 26. (Note: A soul patch? Hopefully the surgeon chopped off, too.)

I was laying on the hospital gurney with an I.V. in my left arm, paper cap wrapping my head, and a gown covering the rest of the my body. In less than a minute I was about to go under major surgery to break, realign and screw back together both my lower and upper jaws. This had been a journey to get to this moment. Surprisingly, I wasn’t nervous. I had committed myself long ago so at this precipice I just wanted to leap and get it done with.

“You’ll want to start counting down from a hundred”, the anesthesiologist instructed.

“Ok, I’ll see you on the flip side.”

This was my actual, cringe-y statement before I started counting and the doctor pushed drugs into my IV. I guess in the moment I wanted to project confidence even though I wasn’t sure what I would experience post-surgery, or even what I would look like. Within a numeral or two the drugs kicked in and I fell unconscious.

The purpose of this major surgery was to have both of jaws realigned from a significant underbite to a traditional alignment—removing the strain that had built up throughout my 20s on my TMJ joint. This required me to have metal braces for about a year before the surgery (yah, dating!). I also had them throughout my recovery which lasted another year. Little did I know that this surgery would unlock a whole new chapter for me: life as a runner. But first, food through a straw.

My post-op x-ray showing all the titanium screws and plates now holding my face together.

To my luck the surgery immediately set my bite into the planned orientation and reduced the strain on my TMJ joint. While my face was swollen for months after the surgery, I had confidence I was on the right path. One expected side-effect from jaw surgery was that my jaw was banded shut. Like entirely closed with multiple layers of powerful bands (not the regular braces type). Since the only way to get calories into my body involved slurping in beef broth into the side of my closed grin, I lost a lot of weight, and very quickly. While I wasn’t terribly overweight before the surgery, I was far from my trimmest. This changed quickly nearly overnight. A month post-op and I had dropped 30+lbs and now looked and felt fantastic.

I was able to start walking outside within a few weeks, and within a few months I started to get back to hiking and light running even when rubber bands still partially secured my mouth. Having lost so much weight, I realized a new spring in my step. This seed of activity grew. Within a few months of getting my braces off I had started to push my running endurance—going further than my previous record of three miles. One afternoon I went down to the loved trail around Greenlake in Seattle. What started as a three mile run expanded to six, and then twelve and then a half marathon of 13.1!

At 28 I began running marathons and eventually found my way to trail races and ultramarathons. In the decade since I’ve completed over 100 ultramarathon races or events, and even earned six belt buckles—each awarded for finishing a 100-mile mountain endurance race.

Beyond the distances I was able to achieve, I internalized a new identity: the athlete, the runner and the adventurer. I loved it. And this was all at least partially due to a surgery that fixed my jaw and unlocked an even bigger capacity.

2014: “I’m Not Coming Home”

Driving South on I-5 I got a call that changed the trajectory of my life, but also taught me a lesson in perseverance.

I had been married for just over a year. I knew our relationship was under strain—from finances, my anxiety from a job search, and a potential move out of Seattle. I wasn’t happy. My wife wasn’t happy. Worst still, we weren’t be honest about the state of things.

I was still an optimist.

With my focus on the specific problems my wife and I faced, I put my head down and did what work I could: baking homemade bread, taking low-cost trips around Seattle, and finding small ways to try to rekindle the magic. I knew as soon as we overcame these obstacles we’d be back in the loving, connected partnership we had build over the past three years of dating, and 12 months of marriage.

That’s why the call was so heartbreaking when I got it.

A few days earlier my wife told me she was staying the night at a friend’s house and would be back the next day, Friday. When she didn’t return that evening, or the next, I knew she had to be more conflicted on her feelings. We talked on the phone and she said she needed the weekend to herself. I prayed that time would cool tempers. And anyway, life had to go on.

I had a job interview in Hood River, Oregon on Monday, so I packed up my dog in a rental car and started my 200+ mile drive south. My plan was to stay at a hostel on Sunday evening, and then go into my job interview with the CEO Monday morning. During that interview I knew I’d have to put on virtual mask (essential to clarify when reflecting in a post-COVID world) and fake that I was not vulnerable, depressed, unemployed, and on the verge of a divorce, but I knew I could do that. I could do anything to pull myself and my family out of this morass. This was my plan… at least until I got the call from my wife.

“Pull over. You should pull over.” she said.

”Ok, one second.” I sheepishly offered as I steered the car to the nearest exit outside of Centralia, Wa, pulling onto a cinder-laden side road adjacent to the highway.

This was the first time I had heard her voice since she left our apartment a few days earlier.

Then it happened. She told me the news.

“I’m not coming home.”

In a calm and prepared tone she told me that she was leaving me and moving to New Zealand to be with her family. Her words carried no anger and were shared in an emotionless delivery like she was ordering from a ticket booth.

I couldn’t stop sobbing.

My voice was mute not because I didn’t have anything to say, but because I had too much to say and was chocked by a mixture of shock, heartbreak and disbelief. The rest of the conversation was a blur, but must had included repeated questions followed by a few statements about practical affairs. It was hard for me to get words out.

I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t breathe.

After I hung up I took a good half hour to compose myself before getting back into my car, drying my eyes and continuing my drive south. I completed the job interview the next day simply by taking things one step at a time and by putting on my most charming grin. I was in a storm, but I had put faith in the idea that I would figure things out. I knew I could get through this trauma by focusing on the single moment I was in, and then the next, and the next.

By sundown I was back at my apartment in Seattle, interview complete but world afire. Despite this turmoil, I used this skill over and over again during this period—getting through the hour, day and week: starting a new job, getting a divorce and moving to a new apartment. I learned how to be resilient and have faith that I would figure things out. To my luck, I did, and they did. Yes this was a difficult memory, but in a sense I am lucky to have experienced it.

2016: Becoming a Filmmaker

Interviewing adventurer Dick Kresser for Dick’s RASH

My manager a VP of Communications at the travel and tech company Expedia had news for me.

“I’m leaving and our team is going to split and merged with two other groups.”

I was shocked. She had hired me less than a year earlier. I knew this merge in teams could potentially cause trouble for my career with the tech giant, especially since my new boss didn’t get along with my old boss. Soon I had my answer.

I was being laid off along with a most of the others from our now defunct team.

“What am I going to do?,” I asked myself.

Get stressed? Hunker down? Fixate? No, not this time.

After getting the news I walked around the Bellevue, Wa headquarters while planning my next step. I decided something right then and there.

“I’m going to travel abroad before starting a new job, and I am going to professionalize my filmmaking. Instead of losing my cool, this time I would embrace this ambiguity and become stronger.”

For travel, within a few weeks I jumped a flight to Iceland… in January (pro-tip: the weather that time of the year in Iceland can be INTENSE). The snow and frigid temps were a beast but I was lucky enough to see incredible sights and make new friends. Instead of feeling like a failure I felt excited and empowered. I also kept up my running, completing the Orcas 50K trail race in February and earning one of my quickest finishes on that course.

And that now brings me to my art: telling stories through video.

I first learned how to edit video way back in 2003 after taking a digital video course in college and cutting up mock music videos in Premier Pro while adding in video clips and music from MTV Cribs. Over the next decade I would continue to create short, silly running videos capturing outings in The Enchantments, Mt. Kenya and many other adventures. However, I never took the practice seriously. I used unlicensed music, I slapped together edits in iMovie, and never investing in quality cameras, audio equipment or more intentional storytelling. Despite playing around in the space for over a decade I hadn’t developed this artistic outlet. That is, until now.

In the months after my layoff, I bought my first 4k camera, a mirrorless Sony A6300 still/video camera. Together with a tripod and a few lavalier and shotgun mics, a Macbook Pro and Final Cut X, I was in business. As part of this creative growth I swore off unlicensed music— replacing my habit of using illegal tunes in my videos with creative commons tracks from Sound Cloud, and other free options from YouTube’s Audio Library. Later I learning about cost-effective licensing sites like MusicVine.

For motion graphics, I hired designers off of Craigslist, and more recently, found animators on Fiverr. Together with studied editing techniques, I learned how to make more professional content. I shared my new videos with friends and even got a short video about my dog Luna Tuna played in local film festivals. This slowly started to build my creative confidence.

“I’m a filmmaker. I’m filmmaker!”, I thought in the tiniest, internal voice.

Eventually friends started coming to me with movie ideas, for advice, or sometimes, with a bucket of video clips.

“Can you make this into anything?”

“Well, I can try,” I’d reply.

Still, unsure of my skills and knowledge, I tried to underpromise and over-perform while learning new techniques. Over the next four years that have followed I produced over 30 short running and adventure films and have had features screened at nationwide film tours, at local climbing and fitness gyms, running stores and virtual film festivals. This growth has not only been creatively rewarding, but has developed a channel where I can help inspire people to live a healthier life—one of my life goals/mission.

My Favorite Creative Project So Far:

So that’s it. These five moments collectively have shaped me in tremendous ways. Some visible (jaw, running) and some hidden, maybe even from myself. While none of these experiences were easy to live, I’m grateful my life arched in a way that allowed me to listen to the lessons they wanted to share with me. I’m grateful I’ve been brave enough to be influenced by these stories.

Get Addicted to Doing: How to End Procrastination, Set Goals and Complete Them

January 13, 2020

In a now famous YouTube clip Admiral McRaven addressed The University of Texas at Austin graduating class of 2014. While the Special Forces Commander shares moments from his career in the military, the main emphasis of his address is not about his maneuvers as a Seal Team leader. Instead, he described the benefit of starting each day by… making his bed. Admiral McRaven explained:

If you make your bed every morning you will have accomplished the first task of the day. It will give you a small sense of pride and it will encourage you to do another task and another and another.

Who would have guessed a university commencement speech would focus on something so, well, elementary. But the message rings true. Progress on small goals builds momentum. With that momentum, you can do one more task. And then another.

This video connected with me because knocking out goals is my “drug”.

While I never viewed my approach to each day through the lens of making my bed (and maybe my Mom would argue I haven’t always been so diligent about my morning chores), adding checks to my checklist has been my addition ever since at least my teen years. I love doing just one…more…thing. While I haven’t always been so task-oriented, by the time I grew into a young adult I adopted a practice of making and doing lists of projects daily. Ever since I discovered the secret joy of completing small and big tasks daily I haven’t put the practice down.

This is what I learned through the process.

Document Your Goals

Whether you list them in a phone, on post-its, or a journal, write down where aiming. And then DO IT!

Whether these are small tasks done around the house, or big multi-month projects, write down what you want to achieve with as much detail as possible. I used to write objectives on yellow post-it notes and paste them above my desk. Now I mostly use my phone’s notes app. Examples of goals from my past to-do lists include:

SMALL: Build a live-edge wood table
MEDIUM: Professionalize my filmmaking by making movies only with licensed music and professional titles and animations
BIG: Find and buy a house I can afford and improve it with my Dad

The benefit of writing down your goals not only allows you to get clarity on what you want to achieve, and maybe allow you to reorder your list based on your resources and time, it also holds you accountable. And this is the secret sauce. Like many business books and career coaching texts describe, when setting goals they should be S.M.A.R.T.—specific, measurable, achievable, realistic, and timely (whenever possible). Plus, if you don’t write your goals down you don’t get the joy of crossing them off once you’ve finished the task, or climbed the hill.

Start Small

This take-away mirrors the advice shared by Admiral McRaven. Start your day with a simple task and work to complete it. This could include participating in a morning strength and conditioning routine, packing your lunch for your workday or calling your family to check in on your morning commute. By completing a small task, you can build momentum in your day and week and maybe month to do another task, and then another.

While I initially hated the intensity of hot yoga, I took on the weekly sweaty, stretchy practice for a full year because I realized that when I was done the class at 7:05AM, I was both massively energized for my day and had already ticked off my “workout” to-do—and yet the morning had just started. Nailed it! This elation combined with energy from my morning coffee meant that after a quick shower I was ready to throw myself at subsequent tasks on my to-do list. Procrastination is impossible when anyone reaches this motivated state and the flywheel of “doing” is in motion. (Plus, caffeine and pop music helps.)

Celebrate Wins

I try to make it a point to give credit where credit is due. That means not only thanking those who help me knock out tasks small and large, but also celebrating my own efforts. By taking a moment to mentally say “good job bother!”, I’m reminded of what got me across the finish line. My motivation, planning and grit. This celebration can come in many forms.

While the 100-mile distance is not always my favorite trail running challenge, I do like how these events celebrate a finish by gifting a belt buckle. These much-prized tokens can then be worn post-run—reminding yourself of how grit got you to the finish. This award is made of steel, copper or aluminum and has no mystical powers, but it does remind wearers of how they set and accomplished a goal. That in itself is powerful… and maybe magical. I love wearing my buckles, even if I wasn’t always chipper and 100% happy when I earned each of them.

If you’re not into shiny jewelry, I know friends who celebrate with ice cream dessert, a weekend vacation or beers with friends. However you reveal, use that prize as a motivator to get your project, classwork, or whatever you’re plugging away at done.

So this is a natural time to reflect and use my own advice. What are MY goals for the New Year?

I’m focused on investing in my education by reading 15 books and attending two conferences, in my health by taking up weekly indoor cycling classes, and by running ten ultramarathon including at least one 100K and one 100-mile race. Financially I’ve implemented a food budget that cuts back on eating out and ensures I’m keeping my finances in line. I also plan to pay down a sizable chunk of my student loans, and to expand my emergency fund. Creatively I plan to produce at least four short movies including one about my dog Luna titled Why He Runs, and one about Dick Kresser’s Tour du Volcanoes expedition (more to come there). I’d also like to travel to two international destinations this year (Costa Rica and Mexico), plus a few spots in the States.

However, the year unfolds, I hope I’ll have a long list to cross off one line at time.

2019: Do All The Things

January 1, 2020

A classic trait that I share with my family is the drive to do “just one more thing”. Like a reverse Steve Jobs, instead of announcing one more product, prize or holiday, Ballezzas like to add one more home project, trip to the dump or mile to our training run. We love to pile on the punishment, at least that is how it must look from the outside.

For me I operate like a flywheel. While it sometimes takes me a little bit of time to get going in the morning (via coffee or a run), once I start knocking off items on my to-do list I feel unbeatable. Shopped for food. ✅Nailed it! Next up: mow the lawn. ✅Accomplished. Now I should edit that video. ✅Finished! Ok, now time for that movie and then beers with friends. Done and done ✅✅.

Big Goals, Challenges & Accomplishments

More often than not, doing more doesn’t tire me out. It motivates and energizes me. I want to do all the things. That probably explains a lot about how 2019 played out. I had high hopes for my family, my work, my finances, my home, my learning, my art and my fitness. Instead of tackling one or two of these priorities, at times it felt like I was surging forward on all fronts. I pictured William Wallace from Braveheart in my head barked “charge” as I threw myself at my obligations.

And I loved it.

Repeat Running Adventures

After a decade of trail running I knew that in 2019 I wanted to explore a mix of the races I love from the Northwest with a few of new adventures. The repeats included Yakima Skyline 50K and Beacon Rock 50K. Both were fantastic as usual, even if I wasn’t as trained as I was in previous years.

I also returned to the Oregon Coast 30/50K, but this time choose the 30k version so I could share the course with my Aunt Ellyn. I earned a rewarding finish of 3:35:59, capturing 23rd. Ellyn successfully completed the rooty, technical course in just over six hours—her first trail race at the age of 62. Amazing!

New (Brutal) Races

My new running adventures in 2019 included Miwok 100K, The Rut 50K and The Bear 100. The first two were challenging but I managed the courses fairly well—using a mix of patience, Kanye West tunes and food to make up for the skipped training runs and the few extra pounds I carried around my waist. I am proud of the short movies I made for each. I feel they represent the growth I’ve developed in my storytelling, and also the improvements in the tech available to capture these events on the go. (Go, DJI Osmo Pocket, Go!)

2019 Miwok 100K

2019 The Rut 50K

The Bear 100

This was the only race that I failed to finish last year, and I’d say for good reason. The Bear 100 is a big challenge even when the weather is pleasant, but this year it was nicknamed “Bi-polar” for being half pleasant, and then half frozen. I think my Instagram post summed up the experience well:

#Bear100 wasn’t my “A” race this year, but I did want to test myself once more before the winter came. Toeing the line I was neither untrained or fully prepared. I just planned for a long haul. While the first 40 miles went great (I was even planning on a sub-30 hour finish), the weather turned around 8PM in a big way. Waves of storm cells rolled in and burst with heavy rain, hail, cold wind and a little lightening. This happened over and over at night, and converted to more steady rain in the early morning. While it was unpleasant enduring the freezing temperatures, the real beast was the mud.
Feet of slippery, sticky mud now lined the course. Not in spots you could avoid but in distances of tens of miles: chock full of slippery mud. My biggest worry was slipping and breaking an arm or injuring a knee. Each step was literally that brutal. Without a trekking pole, I don’t know how anyone could make it ten feet. I battled this for hours but eventually decided that a happy day was more important than a belt buckle.
So, after going over my feelings, I decided to end my race at mile 75. It was still cold, rainy and unpleasant for hours afterwards. I latter heard that the remaining 25 miles of the course were just as terrible as the previous 30. Brutal. Congrats to the amazing athletes who braved the storm and made it all the way to Idaho. Thanks also to the race organizers and volunteers for hosting a stunningly hard race to host: 100 miles of trail marking, aid stations, etc. I would recommend this race 💯, however maybe aim for a rain-free year?

A Goal Realized: House Remodel with My Family

While living in a townhouse three years ago I decided that I wanted to not only become a homeowner, but to buy a house I could at least partially remodel with my Dad. I enjoy working on projects with him and this potentially once-in-a-lifetime experience seemed like a rewarding project we could share. Over the coming years I toured countless houses to no success—finding either properties all out of my price range or listings that simply were too dumpy.

Finally in June 2018, my girlfriend Emily and I landed a fantastic house in the Central District of Tacoma. #RainierBasecamp has been home ever since. In year one my Dad, brother Mike and his wife, Emily, visited to do phase one of house projects. This was giant success in a remarkably short period of time. We did electrical projects all around the house, capped the chimney, covered the furnace and a bunch of other work.

This year my family returned and we undertook an ever big home remodel. This included knocking down a wall to merge an office and a small bedroom into a single room. We replaced walls, ceiling, insulation, lighting and updated four windows and a sliding glass door with a french door.

After my family left, Emily I then spent the next six weeks finishing the remodel: installing flooring and trim, painting and fixing up all the final bits. Working on this remodel was one of the things I’m most proud of. It required strong budgeting skills to say and strategically use the limited funds I could save. We had to be creative in how we transformed two rooms into one and framed out a new closet. We had to be strong project manages to ensure all the deliveries showed up in time and in the right order. And finally, we just had to get the word DONE. This means my girlfriend and I had to use nearly every waking hour that wasn’t committed to our day jobs, existing race schedule and travel to hammer, move, cut, measure and paint our way to a completed master bedroom.

Before and After: Wall and Closet Removed to combine an office and small bedroom into one new room with new floors, walls, ceiling, heating, windows and more. We also replaced a sliding door with a new french door, and swapped out two windows upstairs. Oh year, we also redid a patio walkway and ran 220v and 100v power to the rear pad and added a car charger for my Nissan Leaf. Whew!

In-Vitro Fertilization Rounds 1, 2 & 3

Emily and I had talked about going through IVF treatments for over a year. While our relationship was still young, we wanted to secure the opportunity to have children. Due to a medical condition called Fragile X, we needed to screen embryos before having a baby (as compared to doing things the ‘ol natural way’), so in June we started the process. This included genetic testing, hormone injections and egg retrieval. In total, we went through three rounds at Seattle Reproductive Medicine under the fantastic care of Dr. Dudley. To our joy, we successfully retrieved, tested and froze embryos for future use.

While I was obviously involved with the process, the real work was done by Emily who had to take hormone injections and dramatically reduced her physical activity for over three months. We powered through and completed the third round in early August—just in time for my parents’ visit when we did the heavy work on the home. IVF was a big financial, emotional and physical challenge, but by being patient and taking things one step at a time we made it through the process.

Its Electric (Car) Boogie, Woogie Woogie

I don’t believe that physical things truly drive happiness or should be overly celebrated. In the eloquent words of Sir Mr. Durden

The things you own, end up owning you.

Stuff at the end of the day is just stuff, and the flood of consumerism can drown most anyone. That withstanding, there is a practical value of many things, like a home or transportation.

Over the past decade I’ve relished the concept of moving from a gas-powered to an electric car. After looking at prices for used electric cars for months on end, I finally made the move. I bought a 2018 Nissan Leaf this past February and sold my 2009 Subaru Forrester.

This was the very first car I bought in a dealership (compared to over craigslist…in a dark parking lot…in cash), and at only 90 miles on the odometer, it was effectively a brand new set of wheels. I’ve since logged over 13,000 miles on the Leaf commuting to work, around town and even taking it to local mountains and trailheads.

The total cost of fueling my car over the past ten months: about $190 in home charging costs, and probably another $50 total in DC charging out in the region. If I had driven those same miles in my old Subaru Forester I would have paid at least $1,700 in fuel, meaning this year alone I saved over almost $1,500. And that’s not counting the savings on car maintenance and oil changes that I didn’t have to do. If you’re thinking of buying an electric car, just do it. They are amazing, and work remarkably well if you have a place to charge at home, even for a trail running, outdoorsy person like me. Read my post here on how to shop for and buy an electric car.

Film screening at Seven Hills Running Shop

Creative Leaps and Hurdles

My original plan for 2019 was for it to be ‘The Year of Creative’. My plan was to focus in 2019 on my art: growing as an artist, producing a few big projects and refining my filmmaking. I only sorta did this.

Early in 2019 I finally finished and released Drakensberg Grand Traverse, a 20-minute film telling the epic crossing of the Drakensberg in Lesotho by Ras of Team Ultrapedestrian. We screened it at the always-loved Seven Hills Running Shop to friends and local runners. I was elated to see that project across the finish line and to make Ras proud.

Other favorite video projects from the year (and described above) include:

I am also proud of my blog posts:

Speaking Events:

2019 Books:

While each of these titles offering something rewarding, my favorite was David Goggin’s autobiography sharing how he became a Navy Seal, and the motivations he uses to continue to heal and grow. Important shoutouts to The Dirtbag’s Guide and Thirst, both written by local Washingtonians and friends.

So those are a bunch of leaps right? What’s the hurdle you ask? Time. I haven’t been systematic at making time to plan, produce and release bigger projects and feel a little like I’m just doing the same ‘ol type of running movies. Maybe 2020 is when I can dream a little bigger and follow it up with a systematic approach to making time? Fingers crossed.

2020 Outlook

So that was a glimpse at some areas of my year. Yes, I could have run more, drank less and found more time to be zen. However, I’m pretty happy with how I spent my year. I accomplished a bunch of financial, artistic, athletic and personal goals.. but there is always more.

What does 2020 look like?

I think I can take the lessons learned and apply them to the new year. I’ll eat healthier. I’ll stay away from any additional house remodels. Financially, I’m maintain a strick budget for food (shopping and eating out). Professionally I’ll lean further into my new role as a Brand Strategist at BECU. Athletically, I’ll try to set and maintain a weekly mileage goal, and to try a few new races. I’m currently registered for Devil’s Gulch 50-Miler in July 2019 and Bear 100 in September, with plans to add in a few more races and self-supported adventures before and after both.

I’d also like to travel internationally again next year. With all the running and house work in 2019, I remained domestic. I’d like to find time for at least one tour abroad in the new year. Maybe Costa Rica? SE Asia? Or back to Europe? We will see.

Thanks to everyone who was part of my 2019. Let’s do more in the New Year!

Yup. That was me back in 2008 standing outside of my Seattle office.

How to Write a Personal Mission Statement Over Lunch

November 24, 2019

Why do we do what we do?

Oddly, it’s a hard question to answer as many of us don’t have a response at the ready despite the question touching on how we spend our most precious resource: our time.

It was the fall of 2008 and I was seated in my office at the non-profit I served in the Pioneer Square neighborhood in Seattle. While snacking on two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and a diet Dr. Pepper I attempted to define my life mission. That was at least my goal before my 30-minute break ended.

Step 1: Explore What You’re Passionate About

My hope was to draft a consistent personal mission that would make sense of what I’d done over the past 28 years of life, what I was currently doing for my work, and what I hoped to do in the coming years. My process started with brainstorming phrases that hit at the center of my passions.

Art.
Coffee.
Technology.
Communications.
Running.
Volunteering.
Start-ups.

I also saw how a personal mission could help me make choices easier in life, work, how I used my personal time, and where I investing my energies in the future. If a formal mission worked for a corporation or government agency, it would also work for a 20-something who was trying to figure his path out. ‘

Step 2: Brainstorm

After a few false starts I penned something that seemed to hang on the page. My mission in life is to…

Help people help others
Help people start businesses
Help people stay active

It sounded simple, but this did seem to touch on each part of my life I cared about. I have always been passionate about serving so the "helping others” part just made sense. As for starting businesses, I had been involved with a few startups and loved the ethos of creators: to make. The last part of my mission touched on my passion for being active. This has been a lifelong pursuit and something I knew made people better and more human.

Step 3: Test Your Mission Statement

In the decade since I’ve used the life mission countless times: to organize donations drives with friends and neighbors, to serve as Washington DECA project judge, and to begin my career as a trail running filmmaker. Over the years this simple mission statement has acted as an excellent screening tool. I simply ask myself “how does this fit with where I want to go?” If something doesn’t fit, I don’t do it. Easy.

I know the mission statement is working for me when I feel fulfilled in my life and when I grow and learn through the choices I make.

My hope is that this mission will continue to guide me in the next decade of life. And if it doesn’t, I guess I’ll have to have another peanut butter and jelly sandwich lunch.

8,000 Miles Later: Why I Bought an Electric Car and How You Can Too

August 13, 2019

(Spoiler alert: It’s not just for the environment.)

My Motivation for Going Electric

Last February my 2009 Subaru Forester was chugging along as my daily commuter. It had AWD, a rear window packed with adventure stickers and I owned it free and clear. Was she showing her age? Yup. With over 175,000 miles on the odometer and various lights blinking on the dash I knew I wouldn’t be able to depend on the rig much longer. Plus, at only ~22-23 MPG, I spent about six dollars in fuel each day commuting from my home in the gritty city of Tacoma to work in the equally gritty Tukwila. Beyond just the cost of fuel, my commute emitted over 40 pounds of CO2 into the atmosphere daily.

“My commute emitted over 40 pounds of CO2 into the atmosphere daily”

Could I do better? Absolutely.

Now, I’ve been a fanboy of electric cars for over a decade since spotting my first Tesla Roadster on the streets of Downtown Seattle and stealing a photo next to the two-door sports car. At the time I was heavy into riding motorcycles so the instant torque and lightening-fast (but silent) acceleration of the Tesla was captivating. Over the years this initial seed of interest grew into a habit of reading news sites tracking the emerging electric car industry and the growing fleet of plug-in hybrids and all-electric cars: Ford C-Max, Tesla Model 3, Nissan Leaf and others. I was hooked.

I’ve been a fan-boy of Tesla for a while. A few years ago, I rented a Model X off of Turo for a day. It was awesome, minus a certain Falcon door incident with Dad.

Budgeting for an Electric Car

I had never purchased a new car before but after doing some back-of-the-napkin math last February I felt that my budget could finally afford one, even a battery-powered model. Plus, I’d hopefully have a more dependable car that would avoid costly repairs in the coming years. This is how my math broke down:

Monthly Expenses:
$314 estimated new car payment ($25,000 purchase price - $10,000 down payment = $15,000 financed)
$60 car insurance increase (previously I didn’t have comprehensive insurance coverage)
-$160 gas savings
-$20 oil change
____________

$204.00/month difference

But that’s before I factored in maintenance. While I loved my Subaru, when i totaled up the trips I took to the mechanic over the three years I owned the car I realized I had spent over $2,000 for various fixes: new spark plugs, wiring harness, catalytic converter, a dozen oil changes and a dozen other things I’m forgetting. Amortized, this chops another $44/month off transportation expenses bringing my new monthly cost down to $160/month.

“I can do that.”, I thought.

Subi: My first AWD adventure-mobile, you served me well.

Choosing Electric-only or Plug-in Hybrid

While a few friends and consumer review sites recommended the Prius Prime or similar plug-in hybrids instead of electric-only models. While these proven, dependable hybrid systems eliminate range anxiety by combining a small battery with an internal combustion engine, they require the same maintenance that a traditional internal combustion engine does: replacement of oil, belts and filters and all the other hassles. Electric-only cars on the other hand have a boringly short list of to-dos: fill the windshield wiper fluid and change the tires every few years. These cars are little more than a bunch of laptop batteries wired to an electric motor driving four wheels. You skip the engine, transmission, gas tank, exhaust and all the hundreds of other moving bits that link the systems. Electric cars are just simple, and while the data is still out, some (though bias) say electric cars are far more reliable.

No, not my ride. I’m posing next to a friend’s ridiculous, but sext Ferrari.

Features and Technology

After researching car options for months, I finally settled on a slightly used 2018 Nissan Leaf with a 40kw battery. This was the newly refreshed version of the first mass production electric car Nissan launched in 2011. The new model came with a bigger battery boasting 40kw, a more powerful motor at 147 hp, and a more advanced technology package. This tech included ProPilot, their self-driving solution offering level 2 capabilities. Together these enhancements gave the latest model a range of 155-160 miles—a boost of about 40 miles over the previous 30kw model.

While I could buy an older, used Nissan leaf with a smaller battery, I didn’t want to buy an electric car and keep my old Subaru. This would just double my insurance and I’d have to continue to do maintenance on my Subaru. I just wanted to pull the band-aid off and go all electric, or nothing.

Driving my Electric Car

As I mentioned above, I’ve never had a new car so my performance expectations are pretty low. However, I was thrilled to jump in and take off in my Nissan Leaf. The car is nearly silent to drive. This means having conversations or listening to music is much more enjoyable than prior cars I’ve owned. Removing the roar of an engine definitely changes the classic driving experience, but this isn’t a bug, it’s a feature.

Another benefit is the precision of an electric car. The instant torque makes driving fun and zippy, too. While I don’t see the performance of a sports car, or high-end Tesla, the immediate response makes driving fun. Now when I drive friend’s traditional cars they always feel so sluggish to accelerate.

Beyond the driving physics, the other big change has been the semi-autonomous driving system. While I was originally a little nervous to use the ProPilot system, I’ve grown more comfortable with it as months have passed. I now use the system to steer, accelerate and brake for about 40 highway miles of my 52-mile daily commute. This is great for traveling at speed, but is especially helpful when stop-and-go traffic fills the interstate. The car identifies the vehicle in front of it, slows down to a near stop, steers in the lane and then accelerates again once the congestion eases.

My Nissan Leaf also has a system called e-pedal, meaning I can accelerate and decelerate with just my single “gas" pedal. Not switching feet from a brake to a gas over and over is a huge improvement in comfort. Within an hour of using the feature I thought, “Shouldn’t all cars be like this?”.

The only aftermarket product I added to my car is a pet barrier. This installs against the rear seats to ensure my Border Collie stays in the rear cargo area. She is a little Houdini, but has yet to break out.

Buying Process

After hitting the internet for a few weeks and relentlessly researching low-cost electric cars I finally found a slightly used Nissan Leaf with 90-whole miles on the odometer at Olympia Nissan. My girlfriend and I went down on a Monday to test-drive the car. Instead of trying to sell me on model, the salesman surprised me by just tossing over the keys.

“You probably know more about that I do. Take it for a spin.”

Unlike Tesla cars, Nissan Leafs are sold through the traditional dealership model. This is good if you want to skip visiting the big city and instead go to a dealership close by, but probably bad for supporting electric car adoption. Why? Dealerships don’t make that much selling a new car. Instead, they make the majority of their revenue through servicing the cars they sell, specifically the internal combustion engine cars. The oil changes, filter swaps and other scheduled maintenance add up to healthy profits. Unfortunately this sales model hurts electric cars that require next to no maintenance. Salespeople are just less likely to care about recommending that new electric model to the next shopper if it won’t ultimately be paying the bills… and that’s if they know much about the new technology.

If you’re interested in buying an electric car, my suggestion is to start by doing your own research. Below are sites that outline the basics of buying, charging and driving electric, and a few online sources of new/used models:

Researching Electric Cars:

Buying New/Used Electric Cars:

Filling Up with Gas vs. Electricity

My bill jumped about $20/month after moving to an electric car. Data: Puget Sound Energy, average bi-monthly cost — My bill jumped about $20/month after moving to an electric car.
Data: Puget Sound Energy, average bi-monthly cost

My home electrical monthly costs before and after buying an electric car. I saw my electric bill jump about $20/month after buying my Nissan Leaf last February. This cost is minuscule compared to the $140-$160 I spent previously monthly on fueling my previous car with gas. Luckily, Washington State has the lowest per-kilowatt cost in the US. Data: Puget Sound Energy, average bi-monthly cost

It is inherently cheaper to “fuel” electric cars compared to internal combustion engines, or “ICE” vehicles. Research shows that less than 15% of the energy added into a traditional gas tank goes to driving that vehicle or powering useful accessories like A/C. Ouch. In contract, electric cars are 85-90% efficient.

After charging my car using a 110v outlet and extension cord for several months, I eventually wired up a used 220v charger in my back parking spot.

Charging My Car: 110v to 220v to DC

For the first five months I charged using a heavy gauge extension cord connecting my car charger to a regular 110v outlet on the outside of my house. This form of trickle charging is the slowest requiring about 30 hours to charge my Leaf from a dead battery. However, this wasn’t an issue because I just plugged in each night and topped off after commuting 55 miles round trip to and back from work. The only downside is I had to lay an extension cord across my sidewalk in front of my house. (Plus, it probably wasn’t the safest option. Extension cords and electric cars are usually a no-no.)

I eventually picked up a used electric car charger from Craigslist for a little over $100—a big savings over a new charger. Eventually I ran power to my rear garage and parking pad and wired up the level two charger (different than the autonomy “level two” described above) with a J1772-style connector. This charged my new car about three times faster, but more Importantly was safer than using an extension cord.

In addition to charging at home, I was fortunate to supplement my electrical commuting costs thanks to free electric car charging offered by my employer, BECU. Each day, I use the Chargepoint app to get in a virtual queue with other electric car owners at my HQ. I then get a notification when it is my time to charge. After two hours, my allotted time is over and I re-park my car in a non-charging spot. Typically, this charging session covers half of my daily commute. While I wasn’t going to retire on the savings (especially because electricity is cheap in Wa as I described above), I value the offering from my job, and it has reduced any range anxiety I might have feel.

Filling up from near zero at a DC fast charger takes 45-minutes and about $13

The third way I charged was using DC Chargers, or Direct Current. My Nissan Leaf has a CHAdeMO plug—a somewhat legacy connection. The emerging format is CCS. Instead of taking hours to fill my 40kw battery, I could charge from 0% to 80% in about 45-minutes. These commercial chargers are located close to major highways—including the West Coast Electric Highway. This means you can bring your EV on long-distance trips. After a few hours of driving, just stop at a charger (often near coffee shops and restaurants), then “fill up” while grabbing a coffee or having a meal. After six months of ownership, I’ve only used these DC chargers about three times, but it was cheap and effortless. I paid between $5 and $10 each visit. This was a premium over charging home, but allowed me to use my Leaf for visits to the mountains for camping or trail runs.

Car Maintenance: Little to None

After over 8,000 miles of driving, I haven’t done any maintenance beyond a car wash or two. The car drives and feels just like it did on day one. Nissan recommends getting the tires rotated every 7,500 miles, and the brakes and suspension to serviced as-needed. Thanks to the regenerative braking, some owners report that the brake pads are lasting 10+ years. So, I guess this means I need to have my tires inspected for even wear, but otherwise I’m good to go.

Conclusion: Save the Planet, and $$$

After six months of ownership, I couldn’t be happier with my choice to switch to an electric car. I am confident that I won’t be going back to an internal combustion engine—probably ever. Moving away from a carbon emitting car to a more “green” vehicle was a big motivation for making the switch. While buying any finished product links you with the carbon emissions used to create that thing, electric cars are inherently less-destructive options than ICE cars.

After going through this change, I would put as a close second the financial savings of electric cars. As long as I take care of my Leaf, the savings in fuel and maintenance costs cost appear to reduce my lifetime transportation expenses significantly. Not everyone needs to drive to get to work. However, for those that do need a car, I highly suggest looking at an EV.

Why Do We Hurt So Good?

March 10, 2019

“Why? Why do we do this?” I wondered.

The Race

These were not the esoteric wonderings of a Judith Platt scholar. I just needed to know.

The night were cold but peaceful. Plenty of time to think.

This immutable thought forced itself into my mind at around mile 48 during a 100-mile ultramararthon. I had just topped out on a particularly grueling climb at IMTUF 100—a brutal trail race held in the rustic but scenic Payette National Forest—just a few hours north of Boise. McCall sits at over 5,000 feet. The mountains above climb thousands of feet higher. This elevation meant that the early morning air was shockingly frigid, despite it only being only mid-September.

Surprisingly I wasn’t in pain, ‘bonking’ or otherwise delirious when the thought entered my mind. Sure, I didn’t feel awesome, but at the moment I was surprisingly present and aware. I was doing my best to manage the race course as it wove up and down faint ‘goat trails’ that mascaraed as ‘single track’.

Taking the race ten miles at a time, I slowly ate away at the trail ahead. All the way I questioned my (and everyone’s) motivations for doing this.

Luckily, encourage was in good supply. The aid stations at IMTUF were staffed by kind and supportive volunteers who filled water bottles and encouraged me to keep pushing. My competitors wore smiles as we all battled the same stupid hard, beautiful and wild course. Things were challenging, but not impossible. At least not until deeper in the race—as I would soon find. I had enough energy to mentally reflect and wonder away the hours. This same question kept popping back up in my mind.

“Why do we do this?”

In a world with the miracles of the Internet, food delivery just an app tap away, and climate controlled houses heated and cooled to within a degree, what inspires people to go outside and do hard shit like run 100-mile (or further) races, or any of the other crazy, debilitating physical feats modern man attempts? This can’t be just a fad—the jazzercise or Zumba of today. This has to be driven by something much, much deeper.

As I hunted through the darkness of Idaho—slowly earning miles—the narrative came clearer into my mind.

Maybe the reason humans deliberately challenge themselves is that for the first time in thousands of years many people on Earth have an abundance of food and water—a new reality for our species.

While in millennia past we were constantly hunted by big cats or the less exotic mosquito, or diarrhea, things were finally different. We live longer, safer and more comfortable lives than ever before. We finally made it!

So, why then would humans plunge themselves back into the fire?

While I lacked specific data to point as I ran through the night, as the hours and miles passed the story developed.

Maybe we need to feel a little pressure? We evolved as a hunted species. Maybe we need pressure to feel normal? To grow?

I didn’t run just to take home a finishers buckle, but it was a sweet prize.

The end of IMTUF was much like the beginning (read all the play-by-play): lots of elevation and tough. However, after 34 hours of battling, I made it back to the Bergdorf Hotsprings and crossed the finish line. After picking up my finishers buckle, washing in the giant hot spring release value and enjoying a beer, I drove back to Boise before my early morning flight the next day. I had captured revenge on a course that had defeated me three years earlier. And yet, I felt unsettled.

This question of ‘why’ I did this in the first place remained. After contemplating the topic for weeks, a set of truths came forward. Researched confirmed my hunch.

The Hypothesis: We Need It

In the past we struggled to get our children to adulthood, now childhood deaths were the rarest they’ve ever been. Since 1800 we’ve had a 10 fold reduction in childhood mortality. In recent years we’ve seen a sharp uptick in life satisfaction. Access to water is now widespread whereas even just as recent as 1990 large swatches of the world lacked widespread access.

We have the most resources humans have ever had, and yet in some of the most ‘developed’ communities, we’re seeing people go the opposite direction. Those with the most abundance seek out obstacles and restrictions—because it is the Human way.

“Why do we do this?”

“Why do we do this?”

I believe there is a story to be told here and that I’m the one who can help coax it out.

Self-Flagellation

Quiet Retreat

Spicy Food

Ice Swimming

Endurance Sports

Hot Yoga

The Idea

I’m going to make a tell a story about the suck. The optional hurt. The irrational steps taken by people today and throughout time to challenge themselves mentally, physically and spiritually.

I’m going to interview people who open-water swim in the frigid ocean in the winter, who fast for days straight to heighten their senses, who abstain from speaking to recapture a sense of peace, and those who commit their life to endurance sports by biking and running distances people don’t like to fly.

I’m going to give this a try myself to try to touch the magic that other experience.

Hurt So Good? Maybe. My goal is to find out why.

Get Involved

I’m making a movie (YAH!), but need help to do so in big and small ways. If you’re interested in contributing your talents, reach out. I’m looking for a host of contributors including:

Audio professionals
Videographers
Athletes and Yogis to feature

Goal: Buy and fix up my own slice of the American dream

Home is Where the Never-Ending Work Is

October 28, 2018

Setting and accomplishing small goals is very important to me. The “YES!” feeling when you can scratch a project off a to-do list feels rewarding in itself and builds momentum for the next task. This is why each December I make a list of personal goals—small and medium-ish—that I then try to tackle them the coming year.

In the past I’ve dedicated myself to practicing hot yoga (and feeling near-death from the experience), professionalizing my filmmaking, and taking my first trip to France. By picking bite-sized goals each year I’ve been able to realize a few small dreams and have been inspired to consider bigger aspirations.

Set, work and scratch off. Set, work and scratch off.

Last December I dreamt up the aspiration to buy a home in the Puget Sound and to improve it with my Dad, Rich. I pictured us working on the fixer-upper (the only type of home that my budget affords: the Puget Sound housing market is INTENSE) and spending time together problem solving decades-old wiring and ancient plumbing. I knew it would be “type 3” fun experience, but I loved the idea of building this memory. (And type three is kinda my thing.) Plus, homeownership just felt like the right thing to do. A decade ago I bought a condo and my Dad came out to help with projects then. While we replaced a window and did some decorating, the bigger changes had to wait until i owned my own single family property, unburdened by HOAs.

Now, at age 36, was the time.

While I began touring homes as a buyer last fall, none of the places I viewed in the Eastside of Lake Washington struck me as good values for the listing prices which stretched into the hundreds of thousands of dollars. “Why struggle to pay a giant mortgage when I’d be still living in a dump”—I thought. After a dozen home visits, I paused my search. The market just didn’t make sense.

This past spring I began seeing Emily, a lovely airline pilot and fellow runner. Our relationship moved swiftly and within a few months she and I shared an apartment in the Greenwood neighborhood of Seattle. Knowing her family lived around Tacoma I was inspired to restart my home search, but this time I pointed my attention south.

After ten tours I found a winner in the Central Tacoma neighborhood of 6th Ave. The 1948-build four bedroom was improved by the previous owner, but still had old bones (the bad type), so we had plenty of sweat-equity opportunities. I closed on the house at the end of June, and moved a week and a half later.

Tacoma: Apparently it really is the City of Destiny

There is something magical that happens between touring and putting in an offer on a house, and when you move into it. The heavenly glow that emanates from the walls slowly starts to subside after the inspection, appraisal and closing. This happens so rapidly in fact that by the time you move in and look at the property at any real detail you suddenly discover broken fixtures, non-functioning switches and a certain stale odor upstairs.

What did I get myself into?

Luckily, I had hope and help: My Dad. Living in New York didn’t stop him from helping me imagine improvements to my new house. Using FaceTime on his phone, I virtually toured him around the interior of the house as he took copious notes that my Dad used to render an at-scale floor plan. I pointed out all the issues I could find as he suggested potential solutions.

Sure, we can take that wall down. It isn’t load bearing.

Within a few months, my brother, Mike, and Dad had a plan. They would visit along with my sister-in-law, Emily, in October for an all-work, no-fun visit. They would selflessly take vacation just to visit the NW and work on my new house. That’s love. That’s grit.

“Wait, you mean you’re going to visit and we’re just going to work each day—no vacation stuff?”, I asked.

“We just want to work. Load it up.”

Wow. Classic Ballezza.

In the second weekend of October the three Ballezzas flew West. I had a lengthy scroll of projects that I hoped to work on, but I honestly didn’t care how much or little we got accomplished. My “new“ home was livable as is. Any improvements my family could do would be a blessing and a ‘fun’ project.

Traveling for a work project is a very Ballezza thing to do. I can recall many trips home to New York on a red eye flight to visit my folks. Shortly after arriving after a night spent sleeping in coach, I’d arrive at my childhood home just above NYC. My parents and I would catch up for about fifteen or thirty minutes by telling stories in their living room. After a coffee, we’d all get started on one or another house project which might include cleaning the backyard water feature, boxing up donations in the basement or loading up a ton and a half of yard waste from a rental property. It was always dirty, exhausting and just what we do.

Wait! Maybe buying this 1948-built Tacoma house was really just an expensive and complex form of payback?

After reviewing my project list with my family, we built a work schedule. It was just the no-fun plan my family hoped for.

While my Mom couldn’t join in on the fun, she called and emailed and encouraged the construction from afar. Project House was a go!

Thursday

On Thursday afternoon The Ballezzas arrived at SeaTac. After I drove my Dad to my house in Tacoma he immediately began measuring the layout of the structure to confirm the sketches he did previously on FaceTime. Can’t you chill for a minute in the City of Destiny? Crazy! My brother and sister-in-law rented a car and soon followed.

That evening we dined on Lasagna cooled by my girlfriend Emily.

Dad immediately started measuring the house and mapping every switch, outlet and electrical circuit in the house.

Friday

After a breakfast of coffee, tea and cereal, I helped my Dad and brother as they documented the electrical circuit of the house including all outlets, switches and lights. They were experts. I was just the tool holder.

As an old home, my house had multiple renovations and additions over the decades that made the electrical system a mystery so it was only practical that we started there for the tour-du-house. In a meticulous fashion my Dad and brother tested and charted out every switch. As an electrician at the West Point Military Academy my brother was experienced working with very old wiring and troubleshooting how ancient systems work. His talents were well used on my Trafton St. home.

In addition to charting the electrical system, we also paid a visit to Home Depot and picked up supplies my brother used to install front and rear all-weather outlets. He also fixed faulty kitchen outlets and switches and added an outlet where a non-connected switch previously sat.

Thanks Mike!

Lunch was cold-cut sandwiches and no one breaked together. We just ate and dove back into our projects spread through the house. For dinner we all dined at Taste of India, including my Dad (Indian: a new experience! WOOT!).

Saturday

On our second full day of work we followed the same beautiful morning ritual: coffee, tea, cereal. My girlfriend and I completed yard work on the front and rear lawns while my brother installed a box extender for the new proximity switch he was adding to the upstairs closet.

(Switching to bulleted list due to the monstrous schedule.)

That day we also…

Installed front all-weather box for power outlet
Surveyed attic for possible fan and register issues
Surveyed crawlspace under addition
Relocated cable from bedroom to kitchen and built modem storage shelf
Fixed rear light fixture on addition and placed cover over power box
Inspected chimney bricks
Installed chimney flue cap
Closed off unwired outlet by kitchen counter

Lunch again was cold-cut sandwiches following by a backyard BBQ with friends for dinner. It was the perfect day of work, work, work and play. I got teary-eyed in the evening. The scene of my family working around together on a common goal was beautiful.

Plus, in the evening we stopped by the 6th Ave-staple, Ice Cream Social. Mmmmm.

Sunday

On our second to last work day, we repeated our morning ritual and then dove back into the remaining projects. My girlfriend Emily and I continued with the yard work on our front and rear lawns. My brother and Dad cut an access point to route a new power circuit to the second floor and attic crawl space, then Mike pulled the new power wires from the kitchen breaker through to the second floor and onto the attic. Monster! This would have cost thousands if I had hired an electrician, and my brother had it done in minutes. The electrical circuit could later be used to install attic ventilation.

I crawled under the addition crawlspace and installed half of the under floor insulation. This was one of the crummiest jobs I could do, but the weather was dry and it felt like now or never. While I was finishing I also fixed the return vent for the house’s rear room. My Dad installed drywall in the second floor closet where my brother had just pulled wires through to the attic minutes before. We were like clockwork. The dusty, dirty type.

For dinner my Dad wanted seafood, so we visited Johnny’s Dock and Marina for some PNW salmon, a favor of my Dad’s.

Monday

On our last work day I had to head in to my job for a half day of work for a morning project. After I was done I darted back to Tacoma to join my family who was once again quick at work. This is what they knocked off:

Applied second coat of drywall to repaired closet on second floor
Fixed dining room ceiling light
Interior spackling of various holes
Caulked outside holes and new cable modem entry point by kitchen
Installed TV wall mount
Balanced fridge and installed range tip guard
Created and installed covers for interior and exterior crawl space entry points
Painted front door
Removed dead branches from back plum tree
Removed back of nails on sliding barn door

Food: Thai food for Mike, Emily, Joel and Emily, pizza for Dad

Tuesday

After a few last minute touch up paint work by my Dad, the projects were done. We had breakfast at the 6th Ave staple: Shakabrah. Then Emily and I said our thanks and reflected on all that was accomplished on their sprint, sufferfest visit. We hugged and then it was done. Emily and I teared up as my brother pulled away from the house in his rental car carrying himself, my sister-in-law Emily, and Dad to SeaTac. The visit was over, and it was the best/worst vacation that we could have hoped for. Terrible only because it was not longer, or restful, but I wouldn’t change a thing.

Ballezza, I love you big.

On a run at Rainier…and being silly as always

In My 37th Year

July 27, 2018

Wow. I tipped past the halfway mark in my 30s and just kept running.

My 37th year on Earth was full of a bunch of wonderful things, moments of self-doubt and a healthy serving of hope. My favorite part of the year was setting goals in areas I love and then realizing those goals through the help of friends and family. These are a few of my riches memories from this past year.

Hood Bound

As lines have deepened in my face, I've become better at dreaming goals and then realizing them. Three years ago I set the objective of living and running in Hood River for at least a few weeks—a loved place of mine. Thanks to the remote work capability of my role at BECU, I packed up my laptop, dog and mountain bike and headed to the Gorge. I had booked a friend's place to crash at followed by an AirBNB. My plan was to bike and run each morning, work from my pad, and then hang out with friends in the evening. Maybe I'd even take a kiteboard lesson?

I'd live the mountain town life and experience what I had dreamed of years ago but hadn't yet been able to realize.

My fate had other plans.

Unfortunately my visit also coincided with a unseasonably strong heatwave. Adding to the sufferfest smoke from a B.C. wildfire blanketing Washington State and hung particularly low in the Columbia River Gorge. While I could still climb up the hills before work to get some miles with Luna, by mid-morning the Gorge was boiling hot and smothered in heavy smoke. It looked like hell, not this loved place I planned for.

Despite this I still made the best of my visit and did what I always do: run. My buddy Nick came down and we took on a single day loop of the much-heralded Timberline Trail. It was a tough 46-mile trek, but we were rewarded with flowering meadows, waterfalls and fresh air above the smokey haze and detailed my experience here and in the video below.

Creative Time

Last year I also had an opportunity to lean into my creative interests. After maintaining a blog on-and-off for years, I decided to get my act together. I moved from a self-hosted Wordpress and build this site using Squarespace. The platform doesn't do much, but it does make it effortless to create an accessible, simple site. Sometimes that’s all you need.

Beyond the website, I also produced my first prosumer-quality movie, Dick's Rash: The Up, Down and Around. The 17-minute feature chronicles my buddy Rich's climb and run around Mt. Rainier, Adams, St. Helens and Hood.

We debuted the film at our favorite local running shop, Seven Hills to an audience of about a hundred (Shhh! Don't tell the fire department). In my eyes, it was a huge success. Licensed music, HD film and a fun narrative that earns the attention of an audience.

The next month we screened it at Evolution Fitness in Portland to another audience of running and athletes. Last year I also produced a few creative project for work including a silly Shred Event promotional video, and the scripted and silly “Your First Time”.

Relationships Matter

Over the past year I also made a concerted effort to deepen my relationships with friends, family and my partner, Emily. As I age I realize how true it is that it isn’t things that make memories or build fulfillment, but people. I enjoyed hikes with my Father, races with my Aunt Ellen, dinner with friends and the unexpected adventure with Emily.

Races & Adventures

Last year I avenged my DNF at IMTUF, completed the beasty Orcas Island 100 and graduated from the strenuous WA Alpine Club Basic Climbing Class, with a summit of Mt. Baker as a cherry on top. While it was rewarding to achieve these formalized endeavors, the adventures that brought me the most joy were the spontaneous adventures. Just a hour before I jumped in a car I thought “why don’t I run the Enchantments solo tomorrow?” And then I did: soaking up the late season sights and kicking through the freshly fallen snow. I had a similar experience when I convinced my buddy Carolyn to do a weekend trip to Vegas, and rim-to-rim-to-rim run of the Grand Canyon. How lucky are we to be this free and alive?

House Time

Each year I make a list of goals: some are concrete while others are a squishy. One of my objectives for 2018 was to “build wealth” which I guess can be accomplished in a host of ways. Also on my list was the dream of improving a home with my Father. Luckily in June I was able to make progress on both objectives by buying my first house. Emily and I found the four bedroom, one bath craftsman in Tacoma after about six months of searching and touring ten houses. When we visited the Trafton St. address in the super walkable 6th Ave District and just a few blocks from where Emily lived as a child, we knew we had a winner. Just a few hours after putting in a last-minute offer for the property we hear back from our real estate agent.

“You got it!”

Wow. I’ve put more time into buying a belt than I did buying the house, but the decision continues to pay dividends. Emily and I moved into our new home in early July. We then spent the rest of the summer touring the neighborhood fairs and street events, and enjoying the local pizza shops and breweries. When my brother, his wife and Dad visit in October our plans are to do maintenance on the house: fixing lights, wiring outlets and accomplishing the second goal.

Who knows if the housing market will hold tight or fall out like it did for my condo a decade ago. Whatever the outcome I get to live in a home I can call my own in a neighborhood and community I truly love. Plus, Luna approves of her new backyard. <3 Tacoma.

What’s Next

I play a silly question game with friends on their birthdays. I ask “Looking forward is there a goal or hope you have for your next birthday?”

What’s next for me?

I hope I can stay healthy. While I have yet to tip into my 40s, I can already feel the screws loosening. Injuries take longer to heal from. My energy is more often low. So doing what I can to ensure my health over the next year will be paramount. Following that, I hope to continue to invest in my relationships: my love with Emily, my friendships and my relationship with my family.

Setting and Realizing Goals Small and Big in 2017

January 7, 2018

What. A. Year.

With 2017 newly over, I'm inspired to look back at my photos from the past year, to reflect on my travels and to think about how I spent the past twelve months. How do I summarize the year? What were my brightest moments? Darkest?

In reflection, I can honestly say 2017 was a year of goal setting and accomplishment and a year of creative growth. I haven't done the math but it feels like I set and realized more goals in 2017 and make more art than in the previous decade. While none of these triumphs were Everest-sized, even small wins filled my sails. I believe the inherent act of setting a goal and achieving it can build to something greater. These were a few highlights from 2017.

This is my "dehydration is a killer" face, taken after a particularly intense Core Power class

Hot, Sweaty Yogi

Exactly a year ago I chose to spend 2017 focused on my health. As a 35-year-old, I had begun to feel the wear of a very active lifestyle. I knew that burning the candle at both ends would only go on for so long before I would begin to experience ramifications from running on empty. Sometimes literally. This was why I made health my intention. Whether the dimension was mental, physical or emotional I used this theme to help me make choices. Opt for the kale over the frozen pizza... at least most of the time.

As an expression of this I committed to taking a hot yoga class at least once a week for a year. While I had gone to classes on and off in the past, I never gave yoga a fair try. I felt ill in the stifling heat and didn't share the exuberant praise that so many Yogis expressed. But... I did like how my body felt after class. My core felt strong and my hips were open so I had to give it a fair shake.

My routine was intense to say the least but it fit with my work schedule: wake at 5:15 a.m., stumble out of bed, dress and grab a coffee at Starbucks. I'd them down the essential caffeinated beverage while listening to 90s hip-hop in my car. By the time I entered my local Hot Yoga Experience studio around 5:50am my heart was pumping and I was ready for the 65-minute class.

LET'S DO THIS!

As a trail runner who roams in the wild, the idea I had to show up at a particular class time and listen to an instructor order me around was completely alien. Luckily, I battled through this discomfort.

By the time each class was over my hair, bare chest and shorts were saturated with sweat. But I was also awake, alive and mentally steady for the day. While it took months of practice, towards the fall I starting to hate hot yoga a little less. What had started as a despised habit I conscripted myself into gradually grew into a valued form of exercise, and a form of reflection and meditation. Honestly, namaste.

When I took my last class in December I couldn't help from smiling. I had aimed at something that was threatening to me: heat, strict instruction and rigorous activity. But I made a plan, put in the effort and realized this sweaty, sweaty goal.

Moviemaker & Creator

In the fall of 2016 a good friend and an accomplished adventurer, Richard Kresser, handed me SD cards with footage from an epic climb and run he did around a series of Cascade Volcanoes: Mt. Rainier, Mt. Adams, Mt. St. Helens and Mt Hood. He accomplished this 247-mile feat back-to-back and solo over six and half days. What a BEAST!

"Want to make a movie?" Richard asked.

Flattered, but also intimidated, I decided to jump at it.

"YES!"

While I had committed to becoming a filmmaker a year earlier after being laid off and had the technical skills to film and edit, committing to making something "real" was scary. Nevertheless I agreed. After a few post-adventure interviews with Richard, his girlfriend and his friends and family, I logged the new footage and the hours of content Richard had shot. Slowly I pieced together a narrative of his solo adventure. By summer 2017 I had assembled a 17-minute feature that I had confidence in. For the first time ever I had combined professionally produced motion graphics with licensed music into a cohesive story. In mid-August, we screened Dick's RASH: The Up, Down and Around at Seven Hills, a loved, local running shop.

We received over 100 RSVPs for the Tuesday night screening, a quantity that the shop couldn't possibly seat, but I also knew that at least 30-40% of the folks would be no-shows as Seattle traffic and work got in the way. Boy was I wrong. I think the final count was 98 people seated EVERYWHERE inside the running shop. We bought 70 beers and quickly burned through those and the pizza the Altra Running brand rep kindly funded. At the end of the screening, we hosted a Q&A where Richard answered technical questions on gear and his inspiration for the RASH challenge. The event could not have gone better. As I drove back to my home that evening a grin spread across my face. I did something scary, made some art and learned a bunch along the way. How cool!

After a successful screening in Seattle, Richard and I headed down to Portland to show the movie and host a Q&A at Evolution Healthcare and Fitness. Evolution wasn't just a top-notch training center, but also has the largest non-theater HD projection system in the city. I was amazingly lucky to get to show the movie there.

Dick's RASH had one more trick up it's sleeve. At the end of the year I learned that North Bend Theatre was having a film festival. While I couldn't attend due to travel, Richard was able to attend so I entered the film for consideration. A week later I got the great news: the movie picked up accolades for 3rd place selection also fan favorite. This meant bragging rights and a $200 in cold hard cash (ok, really, a check, but you get what I mean).

Seven Hills Running in Seattle

Evolution Fitness in Portland

North Bend Film Festival

Beyond Dick's RASH, I also make about a dozen short movies about running. My favorites from 2017 are linked below and are also available on my YouTube channel:

BECU Shred Event, a humerous promotional video that was inspired by 1980s monster truck rally commercials
Your First Time, an edit poking fun at something that eventually happens for all runners
United with Pride, a video I filmed and produced celebrating BECU's staff participation at the 2017 Seattle Pride Parade
Hiking the AT with Dad, featuring my Dad and brother on a four-day AT hike in Connecticut
Sahale Peak 2.0, documenting my climb with Uli Stidle of Sahale Peak after failing to summit three years earlier

Another creative accomplishment I am proud of is writeing a LinkedIn blog post "How CEO Dara Khosrowshahi Can Become The Savior of Uber" which was featured by the social network in their news wrapup of Dara being selected as Uber's new CEO.

Closing a Chapter in North Seattle

Nine years earlier as a bright-eyed 27-year-old I bought a condo in the Northgate neighborhood of Seattle. In March of last year I sold it. So much life was lived in between. When I signed the sale paper I reflected on what I had accomplished and gained: I survived the housing crash of 2009, the expected drama of a home owners association, and picked up skills as a HOA president and board member, landlord, and even made it through two flood incidents that required significant renovations. While my venture into homeownership wasn't entirely positive or wildly cash-positive, I managed it. I balanced budgets, paid bills and didn't run when luck turned against me. This was adulthood in its rawest: now milestones of success, but milestones of "owning it", the lemons and lemonade.

Thank you to the friends who were part of my Burke Ave life: Allison, Jeff and Kristin, 11, Gary, Regan, and many others. While my financial benefit following the experience could buy little more than a used 1995 Honda Civic, the wealth of memories, skills and knowledge will pay dividends far into the future... at least I hope. Oh, and I'm not going to be on an HOA board again.

Racing & Adventures

I saw this trend in successfully setting and realizing (mostly) goals, too. Three years earlier I was denied a sweet marketing role at Dakine (ouch!) after being enchanted by the adventurers paradise, Hood River. Ever since I promised myself that I'd go back there to either live full time or at least to have an extended stay. In August I made it happen and stayed with friends and at an AirBNB while working remotely. Each morning before work I'd run or mountain bike with Luna Tuna. The evenings and weekends I'd enjoy the local breweries or go exploring with friends. Hood River wa exactly what I was looking for. The only downside was that wild fires were burning across British Columbia causing a plume of heavy smoke to blow south and settle in the Columbia River Gorge. This meant that halfway through my visit the stunning town I loved so much was suddenly shrouded in thick smoke. A heatwave added to the discomfort. Nevertheless, I was proud of realizing a goal that I had previously set forth.

I also committed to tough races in the spring and summer and was able to see through the training and preparation all the way through to race day earning finishes at Orcas Island 50k, Gorge Waterfalls 100k, Beacon Rock50k and Needles 25k.

The biggest challenge of the summer was a wild running/mountaineering race called the Mt. Baker Ultra. Starting at midnight in Concrete, Washington, competitors ran to the base of the mountain, summitted Sherman Peak (just shy of the true summit), and reversed course back to Concrete for a total of 50-miles and 10,000+ feet of climbing. While I ended up not summiting on race day due to an unexplained flash illness, I did run 45 of the 50-mile course and was proud of my efforts, and knew I'd be back next year.

Nailed it! This was my first finish of IMTUF and my fifth 100-mile buckle. Notice the intentional notch that is perfect for popping bottle caps to toast a successful run.

All of my running pursuits were focused on preparing me for a September return to Idaho. I HAD to earn a finish at the challenging IMTUF 100 in McCall, Idaho. Three years earlier I had DNF'd on the course at mile 52. Luckily, my return put my heart at ease and I earned a finisher buckle (triumphantly detailed in this blog post).

I rounded out the year by fitting in a successful climb of Sahale Peak and a last-minute trip to the Grand Canyon to run the Rim-to-Rim-Rim trail. Both of these experiences were goal achievements for me so I was thrilled that I could fit them into 2017 before winter weather closed the trails.

And for my finale...

As I had done for the past three years, I also organized a group summit of a local mountain to celebrate the last dawn of year. Happy 2017!

I'm grateful to my boss, Gerard, and my colleagues at BECU for their confidence in me as a marketer and storyteller. I'm grateful for my friends who I adventure with on trails near and far. I'm grateful to my family for their support and for their visits to meet up in Philadelphia, Seattle and Salt Lake City.

Do I have goals for 2018? You bet!

Travel abroad to France
Develop my technical mountaineering skills
Finish Orcas 100 and CCC
Make my next "big" movie and continue to develop my craft

We'll see what else presents itself.

Finding My Fitness: From Swing-and-a-Miss to Baby Oil Photos and Brutal Mountain Ultras

November 7, 2017

Sprinting to glory at Grand Ridge... ok, glory of 5th place

Like remembering every detail of your child's birth: the day, time, statements said and emotions felt, I can clearly recall the moment I became an athlete. My birth was spiritual. My afterbirth was sore legs and a beaming grin. I was the ripe age of 27 and had just ran my second trail race, a local 10-miler where I (amazingly) earned a fifth-place finish. I sprinted the last two miles of the course as the trail switchbacked down a ridge, and overtook a few 40-something dads. My lungs burned, but my will was decided.

"These guys aren't passing me" I thought with determination as I pumped my arms and kicking my legs. A few minutes of suffering later and I made it to the finish line of the Grand Ridge Solstice Run.

Wow. So this is what I was missing!?!

Elated with my performance and thirsty from the effort, I sipped dixie cups of Mountain Dew and repeatedly thanked the race director, Roger. While a modest achievement, that afternoon run in 2009 forever changed me. It was a long time coming, but I finally discovered how I could compete and succeed as an athlete.

“My birth was spiritual. My afterbirth was sore legs and a beaming grin.”

Growing up I was no couch potato, but I never excelled at traditional team sports. To get me engaged in Little League my parents bribed me with post-game sodas. Despite the sugary reward, every game felt like I had to pretend to care. Meanwhile I failed to master the basics in practice or competition, and dropped the sport after two seasons. Hits? Nope.

Soccer in the New Windsor Rec. League; I think my hair was a political statement

I lasted longer in the weekend soccer league, but my foot-eye coordination was still rudimentary. I could catch up to other players and my enthusiasm was top-notch, but then I'd fumble the ball game after game. I failed to score a single goal in my entire soccer career.

What's the equivalent of a strikeout in soccer again? Whatever that is, I had LOTS of those.

For a period in my youth I also got into cycling influenced by Greg Lemond's win in the Tour du France. These were the "clean" days of professional cycling when feats of endurance were celebrated universally with awe and accolades. Watching Lemond's accomplishment—and later Lance Armstrong—I was inspired (and a bit goofy). I wanted to feel that suffering and to wear those laurels.

For my birthday my parents bought me a road bike, but it was much larger than my body could manage.

"You'll grow into the frame" they promised.

I peddled that 24-speed around my neighborhood wearing an oversized helmet and seated on a saddle wrapped in a bright pink cover. It looked very 1990s and screamed awkward pre-teen. Despite this, I felt empowered and pumped my legs while looping the block and fending off chasing Terriers.

When I was in grade school my dad developed a passion for speed skating at a Yonkers, NY rink and brought me, my brother and mom along to skate, too. We weren't great, but it was still a blast. During the warmer months my dad also ran on the road from my house, climbing a steep hill on Rt 33 on a four mile circuit. At the time the distance sounded unfathomably far. He also shared stories of running marathons. His thin frame, Type I muscle fibers and patience made him perfect for endurance sports. I wanted to be like that.

I looked up to my dad, literally (he is 6'3''), but also athletically. My father was talented. While I never quite could get the basics, he demonstrated with patience: baseball, basketball, soccer, etc. He never pressured me. My dad expressed pride in my attempts.

In junior high and high school I rowed crew and started to connect with my maturing body, but never felt the "rowers high" I was promised. Sports were ok and I loved the social component and excuse to interact with girls on the coed team.

Rowing was fun I just lacked the dreams of setting new school records or capturing stardom in another sport like my peers. I yearned to be physical, but struggled to find a way to work the itch.

Sports in school were worse. Each high school class in Newburgh Free Academy was identical to the last. Coach Bucci would have all the boys form into six teams, three games. I would either attempt to play in the "bad players game" or not even attempt; spending the entire class sitting on the bleachers while dramatically expressing my teenage angst with fellow athletic flunks.

“You’re gonna need to own this. You’re an adult”

After graduating from high school I worked crumby jobs: cart pusher at Home Depot, front desk clerk at a shabby hotel, and customer service rep at a mall. The jobs were terrible enough to inspire me to dream bigger. With honest and raw words from my mother, "You're gonna need to own this. You're an adult now", I eventually figured out how to get to college. It was there that a new athletic chapter began: the weightlifter.

But first, I got fat.

Freshman year, Spring 2002. I wasn't exactly looking my best.

My freshman year was full of overindulgence in sweets and cereal. Luckily in my sophomore year I registered for a class on strength and conditioning. This move proved transformative.

Taught by an intense type-A trainer, the class was held twice weekly in the campus gym with the time divided evenly between detailed lectures and hands-on iron-banging. I LOVED IT. I found the instruction and homework on anatomy and training technique immensely intriguing, and the actual strength conditioning almost immediately demonstrated results. My body was changing.

Within a few months I went from violently quivering while attempting to complete a single bench press to loading on plate after plate as my limits grew. This class also touched on nutrition and diet supplementation so by mid-semester I had traded the sugary snacks for clean eating and a stack of whey protein and creatine. While the supplements made my farts horrendous, the nutrition and exercise routine replaced fat with muscle. For one of the first time in my life I felt like I was tapping into my power.

Each meal now had a purpose: to grow. I'd grill skinless chicken on a George Foreman and added spicy mustard for flavor. Microwaved broccoli from Trader Joe's was my roughage. I ate this meal countless times while reading Gregg Valentino's column in Muscular Development (Men's Health just didn't cut it). I even bought a "dip belt" so I could hang weight off my hips while doing pull-ups to maximize the intensity. It's was beautiful.

In the headphones? Ruff Ryders' Anthem.

Eventually I earned the nickname "Well Oiled Machine" from one of the school gym managers for the way I'd move from one lift to the next (and probably for my habitual perspiration, too). I wasn't close to being the biggest or strongest guy at the gym, but I adopted a lifestyle, community and identity.

This was my church.

By senior year I was now walking around at 200lbs, could benchpress about 1 1/2 my bodyweight, and deadlift over 400lb. Nothing to write home about for the gym elite, but I knew where I started from a few years earlier and was proud of my progress. And so I did what any regular college student would do at that point. I nair-ed off all the hair on my body and hired a fellow student coworker from my job at the admissions office to take photos of my heavily-oiled physique. Pic or it didn't happen.

“I nair-ed off all the hair on my body”

After picking up my diploma I felt a shift. I knew that that chapter of my life was coming to a close, and not just my undergrad. I realized that the gym might not be in my future. Maybe I was destined for something else?

After college, I moved west to Seattle for grad school at the University of Washington. Shortly after setting into my new home, I sold my car and used the money to buy a nice lightweight road bike and a motorcycle. Moving to Seattle and selling my car felt novel and reckless, and I LOVED IT. Suffering through rain was worth the story.

Seattle is known for more than just Starbucks and Sleepless. It's also a place full of incredible everyday athletes who use the surrounding mountains to run, ski, climb and explore year round. After you've drank all the coffee and read all the books, roaming outside is just what Seattleites do.

Leon and I climbing up Mt. Rainier shortly after arriving in Seattle

In his mid-40s, Guy Browne was my first landlord. He had an intense passion for cycling and the shredded physic to go with it. As one of the first people I met in my new city he made an immediate impression on me.

These people are different.

Guy's weekends were spent suffering up hills, and riding long miles through all the tough weather Washington could throw at him. And he was just one of many everyday people who I met in my new city during that first year who did epic, epic things on the regular. I couldn't have been more excited to be a part of this community.

After being in Seattle less than a week, Leon, a college friend and my housemate, decided to head to Mt. Rainier thinking it wasn't that big of a hike. We had grown up not far from each other in the Hudson Valley area of Southern New York. There were mountains there. Surely Rainier couldn't be that much different?

On our drive to Ashland, Wa, the giant volcano continued to grow and grow and grow in our field of view, dominating the skyline on the brilliant July afternoon. We soon realized this mountain was different than the ancient hills we grew up around. Jesus. This thing is immense.

Leon and I started the hike up Rainier from the Paradise Visitor Center, climbing high up the mountain and into July ice and snow before realizing our folly. I trekked in Timberland boots, and lacked the food or gear the hike required. Leon was similarly unprepared. Our wits finally got the best of us just above 8,000'.

"What are we doing? We should go down."

Leon and I turned back and headed back down the winding trail. We lived to hike another day. And we did many times throughout that first fall.

While my days and nights were packed with work at the University of Washington and graduate school, I couldn't keep the mountains from calling. Every chance I got I explored the trails around my new home. A friend recommended Beyond Mt. Si, a popular hiking guide listing the top treks around Seattle, including the namesake and one of the most popular climbs in the state., Mt. Si.

I wanted to do them all.

Atop Mt. Si with an appearance of Rainier in the background, 2006

Soon I was backpacking in the Central Cascades and exploring the trails on the Olympic Peninsula while gaining confidence in my abilities to move in the outdoors. A few years later my father and Uncle came out and we climbed Mt. Rainier. While an injury kept my dad from the summit, my uncle and I had more luck and reached the crater of the 14,411' volcano on a bluebird day. I was exhausted when we finally made it off the mountain and sat down to enjoy a meal, but we had made it! I felt transformed. I wasn't a weightlifting gym rat anymore. I had become something even better.

And it turns out my metamorphosis from Northeast urbanite to Northwest alpinist was just getting started. But first... I get a little fat again.

After graduating from the University of Washington with my masters, I focused on work and life. Somewhere along the way I strayed from my fitness lifestyle: consuming too many burritos and mojitos, and added a roll of fat around my waist. I wasn't obese, but I definitely wasn't baby-oil-trim either. My doctor even asked about my sudden uptick on the scale.

"Well Mexican food is delicious." I sheepishly admitted.

Seattle has great mountains and wilderness... but it also has great tacos. For a bit, I lost my fitness edge and started to gain weight.

Unrelated, but around the same time in 2008 I began experiencing significant jaw pain emanating from my Temporomandibular Joint. My jaw hurt all the time. After the condition worsened, I saw a few specialists who shared some sobering news:

To resolve the issue, I'd have to get braces (again)... as an adult
Following braces, I'd have surgery that would break and reset both my upper and lower jaw

After grappling with my options, I finally committed and had dental hardware attached that summer. The following June I had the surgery. I was grateful that my folks came out to visit and to support me through the recovery.

Once I got out of Swedish Hospital in Seattle I spent the first 3-4 weeks with my mouth mostly bound shut with rubber bands. The only nutrition I consumed was slurped in through the sides of my mouth. The arrangement inherently imposed a caloric deficit on my body and the extra fat I carried immediately dropped from my body. Within a month I lost 25 pounds, plummeting from a high of a chunky 195 to a slim 170. While my face was still swollen and I still wore braces across a rubber-band-bound grin, I was making progress. The knew the worst was behind me.

Who needs Weight Watchers when you have jaw breakers?

A month and a half after the surgery the pain and most of the swelling had subsided. I finally felt strong enough to get outside. Looking for a social place to be active I headed down to a popular running route in Seattle, Green Lake. My plan was to loop the lake as I had done many times before. I never considered myself a runner, but I could do three miles, and so I started off on the trek. The day was perfect: mild, sunny and alive with fellow Seattleites enjoying the humidity-free air.

My new, slimmed down body felt great on the August morning as I started out on the loop. My grill was still sparkling with orthodontics and rubber bands guiding my jaw shut, but I didn't care. I was happy! Distracted by the runners, cyclists, roller-skaters, kids and dogs, the loop just flew by. As I rounded the final corner by the paddle boats and fishing docks, something odd happened.

"What if I do another?" I thought.

In all of my 27 years, I had NEVER run further than 4 miles. This was uncharted territory. But alas, I trotted on. When I was a few hundred meters from finishing my second loop, six miles, I committed even bigger.

"I'm going to run a half marathon... right now."

And so I did. I stopped at water fountains for water and just kept trotting along knowing that four loops and half would get to me this newly acquired goal. I didn't have a GPS watch, technical running gear or anything fancy, but I eventually finished, aching feet and all.

Thrilled but exhausted, I limped to my car and drove the mile and half to my condo. When I got home I immediately called my mom in NY and reported my discovery in an excited tone, "I'm a RUNNER! I just ran a half marathon. I just ran 13.1 miles on my own!". Her reply was classic, "Isn't that a bit extreme?" Maybe, but a fire was now lit inside me.

Little did she know what was to come.

Within days I threw away my ancient $20 Champs gym shoes and headed to REI to invest in real running sneakers. After consulting one of the sales reps, I settled on a pair of Adidas Supernova road shoes that were on sale for what I thought then was still an astronomical price of $80. WHAT?!? I also bought real running socks, 2-in-1 shorts and eventually started eyeing GPS watches. I was all in, in heart, body and wallet. This wasn't a sport I was picking up. This was an identity I was internalizing.

Soon I started staying downtown late after work to join Niketown evening runs. I loved the excitement of running with a group and the post-miles gorge on cookies and grapes. Every conversation with a veteran runner was informative and every recommendation I'd take detailed notes from. I devoured Runner's World, and the books Born to Run by Christopher McDougall, and Ultramarathon Man and 50/50 by Dean Karnazes.

I started running self-designed road routes around my neighborhood and beyond, pushing the distance and finding new challenges. The fall after my self-rediscovery I ran my first half-marathon with my aunt, cousin and father: the 2009 Philadelphia Half Marathon and finished in a respectable 2:03:17.

Not bad for a kid who thought for years he just wasn't a runner.

The Ballezza & Rudolf Family Posting Post-Race

While I had previously questioned why anyone would pay to run a race when they could just do the road miles for free, when I crossed the finish line next to the Philadelphia Art Museum and Rocky sculpture, I knew realized why. The cheers. The community. Without sounding too cheesy: the glory. It was amazing.

Running wasn't easy for me, especially as I logged more miles, but it connected with my soul more than any other physical activity I had ever experienced. This wasn't a runner's high. This was something deeper. Every mile I logged etched in an identity.

In 2010 I continued to run and hike until one fateful Saturday while hiking on Tiger Mt., a 3,000' six-peaked behemoth situated in the heart of what is lovingly called the Issaquah Alps, a series of mid-sized mountains about a half-hour from Seattle. That morning I had trekked up the Highline Trail, and just as I summited the Tiger 3 peak, I see a man wearing running clothes and wrap-around sunglasses emerge from the trees on an adjacent trail. He was middle-aged, fit and looks serious in his short-shorts and light running longsleeve. I could tel this wasn't a weekend mountain run. He wasn't just seeing the sights. This guy meant business.

Sheepishly, I approached him and asked my assumption.

"What are you training for?" I posed in the most masculine tone I could muster.

"White River" he replied.

I had no idea what that was but shot back with a quick "Oh, yeah" and a nod, then reconsidered.

"What is that?"

He must have sensed my confusion but offered offered only slightly more detail.

"White River 50"

And then, like a Olympic ghost or a mountain goat with a Garmin, he ran back into the woods, and down off Tiger Mt. I never saw him again. Luckily I wrote down what he shared with me and was determined to figure out this puzzle.

When I got home I googled "White River 50 race" and immediately got what I figured had to be the bullseye. That guy was training for the White River 50, a 50-mile trail endurance run held on Crystal Mt, just adjacent to Mt. Rainier on a figure eight course. Over two big climbs the race had over 17,400' of ascent and descent. Held in late July, the race was six months away.

While I had never run a trail race, and had yet to complete a 50k (the standard entry distance for an ultramarathon), within a day or two I committed and paid my race entry fee. I was convinced that I could prepare.

Instead of fear, I was excited. In the same way that I had jumped into weightlifting and hiking, I jumped into ultra running. Over the coming weeks I researched and found the Rome Marathon (yup, the when in spot) and decided that I would take a side tour on a trip to Italy and make that my first full marathon. A few months later I found a trail 50K Lost Lake. The race turned out to brutally difficult due to technical trail and 8,000' of climbing packed into ~31 miles. Despite a twisted ankle at mile 19, I 'death marched' the last 13 miles to a finish. Ain't no way I was quitting!

After crossing the finish line at White River in 10:28:40, I immediately thought "I will do this four more times". And I did.

The kid who wasn't athletic. Who couldn't dribble, hit or score had just became an ultramarathoner at the Lost Lake 50k. And that's pretty cool. A few months later an even bigger goal was realized.

Just days after my 29th birthday I successfully battled my way through the stunning White River 50 Mile Endurance in 10:28:40 seconds. While drinking views of Mt. Rainier just across the valley from the run, I was patient with my body on the climbs. I put my head down and trotted when my body wouldn't perform. The race director Scott's guidance rang loud in my head, "micromanage the course". When I could run, I ran. When I had to walk, I walked.

But eventually. I made it to the finish. While I never saw the mythical athlete at the race I met atop Tiger Mountain six months earlier, I silently thanked him. Whether he was real or imagined. After finishing I also immediately committed to myself that I would run this race for a total of five times. That concept just sounded cool.

Over the coming years, each summer I returned to White River. In 2014, I dropped halfway when the person I was running with fell ill, and in 2015 I had to skip the event due to travel. It took seven years, but in 2016 I finally scored my fifth finish in a time of 10:41:40. Not my fastest WR, but I had set a goal and realized it. In my eyes, that was HUGE. I had become a runner; a trail runner; an ultramarathoner!

Over the following years I would run dozens more trail races and start to build an Ultrasignup profile I was proud of including many more 50k, 50 -ile and 100k races. I even finished five 100-mile races on some wild mountain courses including a particularly challenge one call IMTUF, each time earning a fancy belt buckle as a souvenir.

I'm now closing in on a decade of running and continue to learn from the adventure. I've found a place to complete, an identity as an athlete and a humbling practice I get to grow from, always.

For those reading this who might not think they are an athlete, or that they can't feel at home in movement or in sport. Just keep looking! I promise you'll find it. Humans are an athletic species. We were designed for this. Just because you can't hit a ball with a stick, doesn't mean you can't do great things. Just keep trying. Keep exploring. You'll find your fitness, and it probably won't even take 27 years like it did for me.

You’ve Been Laid Off! Here's How to Smile, Grow and Land on Your Feet.

June 18, 2016

It was a normal Wednesday morning filled with emails and departmental meetings. Before my bi-monthly one-on-one with my boss, I passed my desk to collect a report that I planned to share like I regularly do when we meet. However, as soon as I walked into my director’s office I knew something was off. The report would wait. Seated on her couch, her appearance was solemn and emotionally constricted. A moment later I learned why.

I was being laid off. Ugh.