Trying New Hobbies and Finding Passions

Alright, let’s talk about trying new hobbies and finding passions. It’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately, because, let’s be honest, life can get a little routine. You work, you eat, you sleep—rinse and repeat. And while that rhythm has its place, sometimes you need to shake things up. That’s where hobbies come in.

I’ll start by saying this: trying something new can feel awkward at first. It’s easy to get stuck in your head, thinking, “What if I’m terrible at this?” or “I’m too old to start something new.” But honestly, who cares? The whole point of a hobby is that it’s not about being good at it. It’s about exploring, having fun, and maybe discovering something about yourself along the way.

For me, running has always been a big part of my life. But a few months ago, I decided to step out of my comfort zone and try something completely different: watercolor painting. Let me tell you, I had no idea what I was doing. The first time I picked up a brush, I made this weird, blotchy mess that was supposed to be a sunset. But you know what? It was fun. There was something freeing about just letting the colors flow, even if the end result wasn’t exactly Instagram-worthy.

That’s the thing about hobbies—they don’t have to be about producing something perfect. They’re about the process, about losing yourself in the moment. And sometimes, they lead you down paths you never expected. Like, with painting, I found myself paying more attention to the little details around me—the way the light hits a building, or how the sky changes color at dusk. It’s given me a new way to see the world.

Another hobby I picked up recently is rock climbing. Now, I know that sounds like the polar opposite of painting, but hear me out. What I love about climbing is that it forces you to be present. You can’t think about your to-do list when you’re halfway up a wall, trying to figure out your next move. And there’s this incredible sense of accomplishment when you finally make it to the top. It’s not just physical—it’s mental, too. You’re problem-solving, challenging yourself, and, honestly, sometimes just trying not to freak out.

If you’re not sure where to start with new hobbies, my advice is to think about what excites you—even if it’s just a little spark of curiosity. Maybe you’ve always wanted to learn an instrument, or you’ve been intrigued by gardening, or you’ve wondered what it’s like to bake sourdough bread. Whatever it is, just give it a shot. Worst-case scenario, it’s not your thing, and you move on to something else. Best-case scenario, you discover a new passion.

It’s also worth mentioning that hobbies don’t have to be expensive or time-consuming. There are so many free or low-cost options out there, especially with the internet. For example, if you’ve ever wanted to explore a creative side, there are tons of tutorials and classes online. Skillshare is a great resource for that. They offer courses on everything from photography to writing to learning the ukulele. It’s a really easy way to dip your toes into something new without a big commitment.

And if you’re someone who thrives on community, there are so many ways to connect with others who share your interests. Meetup groups, local workshops, even online forums—it’s all out there. When I started climbing, I joined a local climbing gym, and it was amazing how welcoming and supportive everyone was. It’s like you’re automatically part of this little tribe, all cheering each other on.

One of the coolest things about hobbies is how they can evolve. Sometimes, what starts as a casual interest turns into something bigger. A few years ago, I got into cooking as a way to eat healthier, but over time, it became this creative outlet for me. I started experimenting with different cuisines, learning about flavors and techniques, and now it’s something I genuinely look forward to. It’s not just about making food—it’s about the joy of creating something with my own hands.

Hobbies also have this way of sneaking into other parts of your life. They teach you patience, persistence, and how to be okay with failure. I mean, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve burned something in the kitchen or fallen off a climbing wall. But those moments teach you to laugh at yourself, to get back up and try again.

At the end of the day, finding a new hobby is about giving yourself permission to explore. It’s about breaking out of the routine and letting yourself play, even if it feels a little silly at first. Because who knows? That thing you try on a whim might just turn into the passion that lights you up for years to come.

Capturing Memories Through Photography

I want to talk about capturing memories through photography. It’s one of those things that can feel so simple—just point your phone at something, snap a picture, and move on. But when you really think about it, photography is so much more than that. It’s a way of freezing a moment in time, a way of holding onto something you might otherwise forget.

For me, photography really started as a way to document my adventures. Whether I’m hiking a trail, running a race, or just exploring the city, I always feel this urge to capture what I’m seeing. But over time, I’ve realized it’s not just about the big, epic views. Sure, those are great, but the little moments—the ones you almost overlook—are just as important. Like the way the light filters through the trees in the morning, or the way someone’s face lights up when they’re laughing. Those are the shots that really stick with me.

One thing I’ve learned is that photography forces you to slow down. When you’re trying to get a great shot, you have to stop, look around, and really notice what’s happening in front of you. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been out on a trail and almost missed something incredible because I was so focused on getting to the next thing. But when I take a moment to frame a shot, it’s like the whole world opens up. You start to see patterns, textures, colors—things you might have walked right past.

And it doesn’t have to be complicated, either. I’m no professional photographer, and I don’t have a fancy camera. Most of the time, I’m just using my phone. But even with something as simple as a phone camera, you can create beautiful images. The key, I think, is paying attention to light. Early morning and late afternoon—what photographers call “golden hour”—are magic for a reason. The light is softer, warmer, and it makes everything look a little more alive. If I’m out during those times, I’m always looking for how the light is hitting the landscape, or even just how it’s creating shadows.

Another thing I’ve gotten into recently is experimenting with angles. Instead of just standing there and taking the obvious shot, I’ll try crouching down, climbing up onto something, or tilting the camera to see how it changes the perspective. One time, I was out at Rattlesnake Ledge, and instead of just snapping the view from the top—which, don’t get me wrong, is stunning—I decided to lie down and shoot up through the branches of a tree. The result was this really cool, almost abstract image of the leaves against the sky. It’s not the typical “I climbed a mountain” shot, but it’s one of my favorites.

Of course, photography isn’t just about landscapes. I’ve been trying to get better at capturing people, too. There’s something so powerful about a candid moment—when someone doesn’t even realize you’re taking their picture. Those are the shots that feel the most real to me. Like, I’ll be out with friends, and instead of saying, “Hey, let me take your picture,” I’ll just quietly snap a shot while they’re talking or laughing. It’s those unposed, unguarded moments that tell the real story.

Editing is another piece of the puzzle, and honestly, it used to intimidate me. I thought editing was this complicated thing that only professionals did. But it doesn’t have to be. There are so many apps now that make it super easy to tweak your photos. I’ll usually just adjust the brightness, contrast, and maybe the saturation to make the colors pop a little more. It’s not about making the photo look fake or overly polished—it’s just about bringing out what was already there.

One thing I’ve started doing is creating photo books. I used to let my pictures sit on my phone, forgotten until I ran out of storage. But now, every so often, I’ll go through and pick out my favorite shots from a trip or a season and put them into a little album. There’s something so satisfying about holding those memories in your hands instead of just scrolling through them on a screen. Plus, they make great conversation starters when people come over.

Photography has also taught me a lot about gratitude. When you’re looking for things to photograph, you start to notice all the beauty around you—the little things you might have taken for granted otherwise. Like, the other day, I was walking through the city after it rained, and I noticed how the puddles on the sidewalk were reflecting the sky. It was such a small thing, but it made me stop and smile. And now I have that moment captured forever.

At the end of the day, photography is personal. It’s not about creating something perfect or impressive—it’s about creating something that means something to you. It’s about freezing time for just a second, so that years from now, you can look back and remember not just what something looked like, but how it felt. And to me, that’s what makes it so powerful.

Navigating Challenges on the Path to Adventure

Let’s talk about navigating challenges on the path to adventure. Because let’s be real—adventure isn’t always smooth sailing. Whether it’s a trip you’ve been planning for months or a spur-of-the-moment outing, there are always going to be hurdles. But honestly, that’s part of what makes it worth it. The challenges don’t just test you; they shape the experience and, more often than not, make the stories better.

I’ll give you an example. A few months ago, I set out on what was supposed to be a straightforward hike. The weather was clear when I left, but halfway up the trail, the clouds rolled in, and suddenly I was in a full-on rainstorm. I hadn’t packed a proper rain jacket—rookie mistake—so I ended up soaked and cold. At first, I was annoyed, thinking, “Why didn’t I check the forecast more carefully?” But then I stopped and thought, “Okay, this is part of the deal.” I found some cover, waited for the rain to ease up, and ended up seeing the most incredible double rainbow when the storm passed. It was a challenge, sure, but also a reminder that even tough moments can lead to something amazing.

Preparation is huge when it comes to navigating challenges. I’ve learned the hard way that being ready for the unexpected can save you a lot of stress. That doesn’t mean you need to pack for every possible scenario, but having a few basics—like extra layers, water, and a first aid kit—can make all the difference. It’s about being flexible, too. Plans change, weather shifts, and sometimes trails get closed. When that happens, you’ve got to roll with it and see where the day takes you.

Another thing I’ve realized is that mindset matters. When you’re faced with a challenge, it’s easy to let frustration take over. But if you can reframe it as part of the adventure, it doesn’t feel so daunting. The detours, the obstacles, even the missteps—they’re all part of the journey. And let’s be honest, they’re usually the parts you laugh about later.

So, if you’re heading out on an adventure, expect the unexpected. Embrace the bumps along the way, because they’re what make the journey unforgettable. And who knows? That challenge might just lead to your favorite memory.

Balancing Work and Play for a Fulfilling Life

let’s get into something I think we all wrestle with: balancing work and play. It’s one of those things that sounds so simple in theory but feels nearly impossible some weeks. You’re juggling deadlines, commitments, and all those little things that fill up your calendar, and suddenly it feels like there’s no room left for anything else. But here’s the thing—finding that balance isn’t just about feeling less stressed. It’s about building a life that actually feels good to live.

For me, the biggest shift was realizing that play—whether that’s hobbies, spending time with friends, or just relaxing—isn’t something you earn after working hard. It’s just as important as work. Play is what keeps you creative, energized, and, let’s be honest, sane. When I started thinking about it that way, I stopped seeing time off as “wasted” and started treating it like the fuel that powers everything else.

One of the ways I’ve tried to balance things better is by setting boundaries with work. I know that word gets thrown around a lot, but it’s so critical. For example, I used to check emails constantly, even late at night or on weekends. It felt like I had to be available all the time, but all it did was drain me. Now, I have a hard stop at the end of my workday. When I’m done, I’m done. The emails can wait, the tasks can wait—because, honestly, they’re not going anywhere. It’s made such a difference in how I feel when I actually am working.

Another thing I’ve found helpful is scheduling play just like I schedule work. It sounds a little weird, but hear me out. If you block off time in your calendar for things you enjoy, it becomes part of your routine. For me, that might be going for a run, meeting a friend for coffee, or even just an hour to read a book. When I treat those moments with the same importance as a meeting or deadline, they actually happen. And when they happen, I feel more refreshed when it’s time to dive back into work.

Speaking of running, that’s one of the ways I’ve found to bridge the gap between work and play. It’s productive in the sense that it keeps me healthy and clears my mind, but it also feels like an escape. There’s something about lacing up my shoes and hitting the trail that puts everything in perspective. And it’s a reminder that balance doesn’t always mean separating work and play completely. Sometimes, they overlap in ways that make both better.

Another thing I’ve had to learn is the power of saying no. It’s so easy to overcommit, especially when you want to do everything and make everyone happy. But every time you say yes to something, you’re saying no to something else—whether that’s your downtime, your hobbies, or just your peace of mind. Now, when I’m asked to take on something new, I ask myself: “Is this worth giving up the time I’ve set aside for myself?” If the answer is no, I don’t do it. And let me tell you, it’s been a game-changer.

Of course, balance doesn’t mean everything has to be perfectly equal all the time. There are weeks when work takes over, and that’s okay. The trick is making sure it doesn’t stay that way. When things get intense, I try to remind myself that it’s a temporary season, not a permanent state. And when the dust settles, I make it a priority to recharge—whether that’s taking a long weekend, diving back into a hobby I’ve missed, or just spending a lazy Sunday at home.

One of the best pieces of advice I ever got was to think about life as a set of spinning plates. You can’t keep all of them going at the same speed all the time. Sometimes, work needs more attention, and other times, it’s your personal life or your health. The goal isn’t to spin all the plates perfectly—it’s to make sure none of them crash.

Lastly, I’ve found that reflecting on what actually makes me happy helps a lot. It’s so easy to get caught up in what you think you’re supposed to be doing—working harder, achieving more, staying busy all the time. But when I take a step back and really think about the things that bring me joy, they’re usually the simple things: spending time outside, connecting with people I care about, or just having a quiet moment to myself. Keeping those priorities in mind helps me cut through the noise and focus on what really matters.

At the end of the day, balance isn’t about getting it perfect. It’s about paying attention to what you need and making space for it—whether that’s putting in the hours at work or giving yourself the freedom to play. When you do that, life feels a lot more fulfilling. And really, isn’t that what it’s all about?

Embracing the Outdoors on Weekend Adventures

Alright, let’s dive into one of my favorite topics: embracing the outdoors on weekend adventures. There’s just something about stepping out of your daily grind and getting outside that feels like hitting a reset button. Whether it’s hiking a trail, finding a quiet spot by a lake, or just wandering somewhere you’ve never been, those little outdoor escapes can do wonders for your mind and body.

For me, weekends are the perfect time to explore. You don’t need a whole week off or some elaborate plan. Sometimes the best trips are the ones where you just grab your gear, pick a spot on the map, and go. I think that’s the beauty of living in a place like Seattle—there are so many options right at your doorstep. You’ve got the mountains, the water, the forests—it’s all there.

One of my go-to spots for a quick weekend escape is Mount Si. It’s close enough to get there and back in a day, but the payoff is incredible. The trail is definitely a workout—there’s no sugarcoating that—but when you get to the top and see that sweeping view of the valley below, it’s completely worth it. And you know what? It’s not just the view. It’s the whole experience of getting there. The sound of the wind in the trees, the feel of the dirt under your boots, the rhythm of your breath as you climb—it’s all part of it.

Another place I love is Deception Pass. It’s not as strenuous as Mount Si, but it’s just as stunning. There’s something about that bridge, with the water rushing below, that gets me every time. I usually start on one of the trails, maybe walk along the beach, and then find a quiet spot to just sit and take it all in. It’s one of those places where you can really feel connected to the landscape.

One thing I’ve learned over the years is that you don’t need to go far to feel like you’re somewhere completely different. Sometimes the best outdoor adventures are just about finding a new perspective. Like, I’ve had some amazing weekends just exploring local parks. Discovery Park in Seattle is a great example. You’ve got forest trails, open meadows, and even a beach with views of the Sound. It’s the kind of place where you can spend an entire day wandering and not get bored.

Of course, part of embracing the outdoors is being prepared. I’m not saying you need to go full-on survivalist, but a little planning goes a long way. I always pack the basics: water, snacks, and a lightweight jacket because, let’s face it, the weather around here loves to surprise you. And if you’re hiking, it’s a good idea to bring a map or at least have an app that works offline. Getting lost might sound romantic, but in reality, it’s usually just annoying—or worse.

Another thing I’ve started doing is making these trips about more than just the destination. Sure, the summit or the viewpoint is great, but some of the best moments happen along the way. Like spotting a tiny waterfall you didn’t know was there, or catching the sun breaking through the clouds at just the right angle. It’s those little surprises that make the experience feel so special.

And let’s not forget about the mental reset that comes with being outside. There’s this quote I love: “Nature doesn’t hurry, yet everything is accomplished.” I think about that a lot when I’m out there. The pace of the natural world is so different from the rush of daily life. Being in it reminds you to slow down, to breathe, and to just be present.

If you’re someone who hasn’t done a lot of outdoor exploring, my advice is to start small. You don’t need to climb a mountain or camp overnight to enjoy nature. Maybe it’s a short walk at a local trailhead or a picnic at a nearby park. The point is to get out there and see how it feels. And who knows? You might just find yourself craving more.

For me, these weekend adventures have become more than just a way to pass the time. They’re a way to recharge, to reconnect with the world around me, and to remind myself of what really matters. So next time you’re staring down a free weekend, think about heading outside. You might be surprised at what you find.

Backpacking the North Coast Trail

So, last week I got back from a trip along the North Coast Trail, and I’ve been thinking about it pretty much constantly since then. I’m not sure there’s a better way to test yourself than loading up a backpack and setting off into a stretch of rugged, coastal wilderness. And this wasn’t just one of those casual strolls; the North Coast Trail is a serious undertaking with slippery boardwalks, dense vegetation, steep ladders, and stretches of beach that can be tricky when the tides aren’t on your side.

I headed out early in the morning on my first day, and I have to say, the weather was just about perfect. Crisp air, a slight breeze, and a forecast that promised a few clear days in a row. Which, if you know the Pacific Northwest, is something of a minor miracle. There’s nothing like that feeling when you take your first few steps on the trail, still full of energy, shoulders feeling good, excited to see what’s around the next bend. Every now and then I’d catch a glimpse of the coastline—a sudden opening through dense evergreens—and I’d get this jolt of excitement. Part of the joy in these trips is that you never know what kind of wildlife you might see or which sections will challenge you the most.

Now, I want to spend a good chunk of time talking about the gear I took with me, because if there’s one thing that can make or break a trip like this, it’s the quality and appropriateness of your backpacking gear. I’ll start with the pack itself. I’ve learned the hard way that it’s worth investing in a well-fitted, supportive backpack, something that distributes weight evenly and doesn’t leave you with sore spots on your shoulders or hips. I use an internal frame pack with adjustable suspension. Not the lightest pack out there, but it holds my gear comfortably, and I never find myself cursing it at the end of the day.

Then there’s shelter. For something like the North Coast Trail, you want a tent that can handle moisture, because even when it’s not raining, you’re dealing with humidity and condensation. A lightweight, freestanding tent with a good rainfly was essential for me. It’s also important to have a footprint or groundsheet, because the forest floor can be unforgiving and you don’t want moisture seeping up through the bottom of your tent. A quality sleeping bag—ideally down, if you can keep it dry—is also key. I chose a bag rated a bit warmer than I thought I’d need, just because coastal nights can get chilly. And of course, a sleeping pad that offers enough insulation and comfort to ensure you actually sleep well. Because if you don’t get decent rest, every mile is going to feel twice as long the next day.

Footwear might be the most critical part of all. Good, supportive hiking boots, broken in well before the trip, can save you from blisters and make those muddy, root-filled sections a lot more manageable. Pair them with moisture-wicking socks that help prevent hotspots, and maybe bring along a lightweight pair of camp shoes so you can let your feet breathe at the end of the day. It’s surprising how much of a morale boost it is to switch out of your boots once you hit camp.

When it comes to clothing, layers are king. You want a moisture-wicking base layer, a good insulating mid-layer, and a waterproof shell that can keep you dry if conditions change on a dime. I also always carry a lightweight puffy jacket and a warm hat, even if the forecast says it’s going to be mild, because weather on the Pacific coast can surprise you.

I know all this gear can start to feel overwhelming and expensive. One of the places I’ve found helpful is this resource for outdoor gear. It’s somewhere you can compare different brands, read up on what might work best for your specific style of backpacking, and just make a more informed decision before you fork over your hard-earned money.

Of course, gear is just one piece of the puzzle. The trail itself tests you, and you’ve got to bring a solid set of skills and a certain mindset. But the right gear can reduce some of the stress and let you focus on what’s in front of you—old-growth forests, hidden coves, maybe a sea lion lounging on a stretch of sand just off the trail. It’s all out there, waiting for you, and having a setup that’s dialed in means you can enjoy it without worrying that something’s going to fail right when you need it most.

By the time I got to the end of the North Coast Trail, I was sore and tired, but I felt alive in the best possible way. As I rinsed off that layer of grime and salt back home, I was already daydreaming about the next trip. It’s just something about the Pacific Northwest—there’s always another trail, another stretch of coastline or mountain range calling your name.

Weekend Getaways to Recharge and Explore

Let’s talk about weekend getaways—those little trips that are just long enough to reset your brain but short enough to not completely wreck your routine. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how important it is to take time to recharge, especially if you’re juggling a busy schedule. For me, a weekend trip is the perfect way to explore someplace new without the stress of planning a full-blown vacation.

When I’m looking for a weekend getaway, I usually keep it within a couple of hours of home. That way, I don’t waste half the trip stuck in traffic or on a plane. Living in Seattle, I’m lucky because there are so many options nearby. Like, if I want mountains, I’ve got the Cascades. If I want water, there’s Puget Sound or the San Juan Islands. It’s kind of ridiculous how much variety there is.

One of my favorite spots for a quick recharge is Leavenworth. I mean, yes, it’s a little touristy with the whole Bavarian theme, but there’s something about being surrounded by those mountains that makes it easy to unwind. Plus, the food scene there is surprisingly good. I usually grab some bratwurst, maybe a pretzel, and just enjoy being outside. If you’re feeling more active, there are tons of hiking trails nearby. I’ve done Icicle Ridge a couple of times, and the views never disappoint.

Another go-to for me is Whidbey Island. It’s such a quick trip—you just hop on the ferry, and before you know it, you’re in this totally different world. Whidbey’s got these amazing beaches and little towns that are perfect for wandering. There’s this one spot, Ebey’s Landing, where you can do a loop hike that’s part cliffside, part beach walk. It’s the kind of place where you just breathe differently, you know? Like, the salt air hits your face, and suddenly all your stress feels a million miles away.

Sometimes, though, I skip the outdoors altogether and head to a city for the weekend. Portland is such an easy choice. It’s close, it’s walkable, and there’s always something interesting happening. I’ll spend the day exploring bookstores and coffee shops, then find some live music or just enjoy a great meal. One time, I randomly stumbled into a donut-tasting event—I’m not even joking—and it ended up being one of the highlights of the trip. Stuff like that makes a city getaway feel fresh, even if you’ve been there a bunch of times.

I think what makes these quick trips so special is how simple they can be. You don’t need to overthink it. Pack a bag, pick a direction, and just go. There’s something so freeing about not having a rigid itinerary. It leaves room for surprises, for wandering, for discovering something you didn’t even know you were looking for. And that’s what makes you come back feeling like you actually had a break.

My Journey with a Personal Trainer

Alright, let’s talk about my journey with a personal trainer and how it’s completely changed the way I approach running and fitness. I’ll admit, I was skeptical at first. I mean, I’ve been running for years, and I always thought, “Why would I need someone to tell me how to run? I just lace up and go, right?” Turns out, I had no idea how much I was leaving on the table.

So, a couple of months ago, I started working with a Tacoma-based personal trainer, On Track Coaching. They specialize in helping runners like me, as well as prenatal and postnatal mothers and youth athletes. What I really liked was how tailored their approach was. It wasn’t about some generic “work harder” advice. They really dug into what I needed—my goals, my routines, and even the little things, like how my day-to-day life impacts my training.

When we started, the first thing we did was assess my running form. And let me tell you, it was eye-opening. I always thought my form was solid—turns out, not so much. My trainer noticed that my stride was a little too long, which was putting unnecessary strain on my knees. They also pointed out how my arm movement wasn’t helping my momentum as much as it could. We worked on some drills to fix those things, and honestly, it’s like I’m running with a new body now. I feel lighter, smoother, and way more efficient.

One of the biggest game-changers was learning how to structure my training better. Before, I’d just go out and run. Some days it was long and slow, other days it was fast—totally random. But my trainer introduced me to a more intentional plan. We added interval workouts, tempo runs, and proper recovery days. At first, I thought recovery days were a waste of time. Like, if I’m not sweating buckets, am I even doing anything? But now, I get it. Those rest days have made such a difference in how I feel on my hard days. I’m faster and less tired overall.

Another thing I loved was how they incorporated strength training. I’ve always been one of those runners who avoids the gym because, honestly, it’s intimidating. But my trainer made it so approachable. They set me up with some at-home workouts that didn’t even require much equipment—just a couple of dumbbells and resistance bands. We focused on core stability and leg strength, which has made a huge difference in how I tackle hills. It’s wild how a few targeted exercises can transform something that used to feel like torture into just another part of the run.

Nutrition was another area we worked on. I thought I was eating okay, but my trainer helped me fine-tune things to fuel my runs better. We talked a lot about timing—like when to eat before a long run, what to refuel with afterward, and even how to snack during the day to keep my energy up. It’s not about some strict diet; it’s about making smarter choices. For example, adding a little protein to my post-run meals has helped me recover faster. It’s one of those simple changes that makes a huge impact.

What really sets On Track Coaching apart, though, is how accessible they make everything. They offer in-home and remote training options, which is perfect for someone like me with a busy schedule. There were weeks where life got crazy, but because we could adapt the plan and do check-ins remotely, I never felt like I was falling behind. It’s clear they really care about making fitness fit into your life, not the other way around.

And you know what? This isn’t just about running anymore. Working with a trainer has spilled over into other parts of my life. I’m sleeping better, I’ve got more energy during the day, and even my mindset has shifted. I used to think of fitness as this box I had to check, but now it feels like this integrated, natural part of my routine.

So, if you’re in Tacoma or anywhere nearby and you’re looking for a personal trainer who really gets it—whether you’re a runner like me, a new parent, or even a youth athlete—I can’t recommend On Track Coaching enough. They’ve helped me hit paces I didn’t think I could hit and made me fall in love with running all over again.

Discovering Local Cuisine on My Travels

Alright, let’s talk about one of my favorite parts of traveling: discovering local cuisine. I mean, for me, food isn’t just something you eat; it’s like this gateway into understanding a place. Every bite tells a story—of culture, of history, of the people who’ve been living there for generations. And the best part? You don’t even have to be a foodie to enjoy it. You just have to be curious.

So, let me walk you through how I approach this. When I get to a new place, the first thing I do is skip the guidebook recommendations. I know, I know, those lists have their place, but I’ve found that the best meals—the most memorable ones—happen when you’re a little more spontaneous. I like to wander, find the markets, the street vendors, the little mom-and-pop restaurants that are tucked away in alleys. You know, the places locals actually go.

Take this trip I did to Portland last year. Everyone talks about the food trucks there, right? And yeah, they’re amazing, but what really blew me away was this tiny Ethiopian restaurant I found completely by accident. I was walking back from Powell’s Books, got lost—classic me—and ended up in this neighborhood I didn’t recognize. There was this little place, no big sign, just a smell of spices wafting out the door. I ordered their veggie combo plate, and let me tell you, it was transformative. I mean, the injera alone was a masterpiece. Tangy, soft, just the right texture to scoop up the lentils and greens. That meal wasn’t just food; it was an experience.

Another rule I live by when I travel: always talk to people. Locals are the best resource for finding hidden culinary gems. One time, I was in Vancouver—so close to home, but still such a foodie paradise—and I struck up a conversation with a barista at this café. I asked where they’d go for a great meal, and they sent me to this izakaya place I never would’ve found on my own. The grilled squid there was next level. It was smoky, tender, just the right amount of char. And, of course, it came with this tangy ponzu sauce that I’m still dreaming about.

Street food is another thing I never skip. It’s quick, it’s cheap, and it’s usually some of the best food you’ll find. Like when I was in Mexico City. Oh man, the tacos. I’m not talking about the fancy sit-down kind—I’m talking about the ones you grab from a stand on a busy corner. I had this al pastor taco, and I swear, it changed my life. The meat was carved fresh off the spit, pineapple juices dripping down, and then they topped it with a sprinkle of onions, cilantro, and a squeeze of lime. I didn’t even need a plate; I just stood there eating it, surrounded by locals on their lunch breaks. That’s the kind of food moment you can’t plan.

I’ve also started taking cooking classes when I travel. It’s such a cool way to connect with a place because you’re not just eating the food—you’re learning how to make it. On one trip to Italy, I signed up for this pasta-making workshop. I thought, okay, I’m just here to roll some dough and eat a nice meal. But no, the instructor took us to the market first, showed us how to pick out fresh ingredients, and explained why each one mattered. By the end of it, I felt like I had this deeper appreciation for every bite of the tagliatelle we made.

And, if you’re into learning more about local food cultures and traditions, I highly recommend checking out this resource from UNESCO on food as intangible cultural heritage. It’s such a fascinating dive into how cuisine shapes identity and how it’s preserved over time. Seriously, give it a read—it’ll make you look at your next meal a little differently.

Anyway, my advice to you is, when you’re traveling, let food be your guide. Follow your nose, trust the locals, and don’t be afraid to try something totally out of your comfort zone. Whether it’s a bustling market stall, a tiny hole-in-the-wall restaurant, or a farm-to-table spot, you’ll find that the flavors you discover are some of the best souvenirs you can bring home.

A Day in the Life of an Urban Adventurer

I want to take you through a day in the life of an urban adventurer. And by “urban adventurer,” I just mean… well, me, I guess. Someone who’s always poking around the city, trying to find the hidden gems, the overlooked details, the stories hiding in plain sight. You know, the kind of day where you don’t really have a plan, but you’re also not totally aimless—if that makes sense.

Alright, so, my day usually starts with coffee, because, well, it’s Seattle, and coffee is basically a religion here. I’ll head to one of my favorite spots—sometimes it’s a big-name place like Starbucks, but more often it’s one of those little hole-in-the-wall cafes. There’s this one in Capitol Hill, kinda tucked away on a side street, and they do this cardamom latte that’s just… wow. If you’ve never had cardamom in coffee, trust me, it’s life-changing.

Anyway, I grab my coffee, and then I just start walking. That’s the beauty of urban adventuring—you don’t need a car, and you definitely don’t need a destination. One of my favorite things to do is head toward a neighborhood I don’t know super well. Like, the other day I ended up in Georgetown. If you’ve never been, it’s this cool mix of old industrial stuff and quirky artsy vibes. I stumbled on this tiny bookstore—it didn’t even have a sign, just a chalkboard outside that said “Books, open till dusk.” Inside, it was like stepping back in time. The shelves were crammed with these old, yellowed paperbacks, and the guy behind the counter was just sitting there reading, not even paying attention. I picked up this random book about the history of Seattle, and now I’m weirdly obsessed with learning about how the city used to look before all the regrades and construction.

After the bookstore, I decided to follow the train tracks for a bit. This is one of those things I love to do—not in a sketchy way, just, like, finding where the tracks go. There’s something kind of romantic about it, right? Walking alongside the tracks, imagining all the places they lead to. Anyway, I ended up at this old abandoned-looking warehouse, and it had all this amazing graffiti on it. I’m not a graffiti expert or anything, but some of the art was seriously impressive. I spent a good twenty minutes just walking around, taking it all in. It’s like finding a gallery, but outside, and totally free.

Around lunchtime, I usually try to find a new place to eat. This time, I ended up at a food truck park. I love food trucks because they’re like little micro-adventures in themselves. I tried this Ethiopian truck I’d never seen before, and oh man, the injera was so good. That’s another thing about urban adventuring—it’s not just about what you see. It’s about what you eat, what you smell, what you hear. The whole sensory experience.

After lunch, I’ll usually take a little time to sit somewhere and people-watch. Parks are great for this. I ended up at Gas Works Park that day, which, okay, I know it’s not exactly a hidden gem—it’s pretty iconic—but it’s got these weird industrial structures that I never get tired of looking at. Plus, the view of the skyline from there is just unbeatable. I like to sit with my notebook and jot down random observations. Not anything deep, just stuff like, “Saw a dog wearing a sweater” or “The clouds look like marshmallows today.” It’s funny how writing down even the simplest things makes you notice more.

In the afternoon, I try to dig a little deeper—literally, sometimes. I’m really into finding stairways. Seattle is full of these hidden staircases that connect different neighborhoods, and they’re so much fun to explore. Some of them are covered in moss, and you can tell they’ve been there for decades. Others lead to the most unexpected places, like tiny pocket parks or overlooks you wouldn’t know were there unless you happened to climb the steps.

Toward the end of the day, I usually find myself near the waterfront. There’s something about water that feels like the perfect way to cap off a day of exploring. I’ll walk along the piers, maybe grab a cup of clam chowder if I’m hungry again. And then, if I time it right, I’ll catch the sunset over the Olympics. That’s the kind of moment where you realize just how lucky you are to live in a place like this. The city, the mountains, the water—it all comes together in this way that feels so alive.

By the time I head home, I’m usually a little tired, but it’s the good kind of tired. The kind where you’ve been walking all day, taking in the world, and you feel like you’ve really been somewhere, even if you never left the city.