Super Woman Sally

Sally is an old friend and colleague of many of us at Outdoor Mindset. A few years ago, she scared us all senseless when she was in a serious backcountry skiing accident in Jackson, WY. We, along with her 8 billion other friends and admirers, have had the pleasure of rallying around her and watching her come-back from this accident. 

She is a true inspiration and rock star, and it's an honor to have her be a part of the Outdoor Mindset family.

Raised in Colorado, I started skiing at age three. (But I went in my dad’s backpack in the backcountry at six months old!) My family has a cabin in Leadville, so when I was young, I skied at Ski Cooper. Once my brother and I “graduated” from Ski Cooper, at about age 12, I went over to Copper Mountain. I skied there for most of my younger years, and at age 15, I started the Junior Ski Patrol program. While I was in college, and for a few years after, I was a volunteer patroller, with skills as an EMT.

After college, I worked many ski-related jobs in Boulder, including being the online editor for SKI Magazine. I worked there for a couple years, considering it my “dream job.” I skied in places like Canada, New Zealand and Chile, and trips like these were fully paid for- but I was laid off from that job. That was a Wednesday, and by Friday, I had another offer on the table.

I accepted that job, and within two week, I packed everything I needed in my car, and headed to Jackson, Wyoming. I absolutely loved it there: the PR company I got a job with,

Denny, ink.

, had major ski industry clients like Arc’teryx, Dynafit and Nordica, so I went skiing for part of the day and it was considered “work.”

Skiing with three of my Jackson friends one Saturday, we rode the tram up at Jackson Hole Mountain Resort, and hiked to where we wanted to ski. We were going to ski “Once is Enough,” but we had to ski another, narrower run to get there. When we got to the top of our run, we clicked in, and my friend went first. He gave me two thumbs up, telling me it was safe to go. I started downhill, took a few turns, and then my ski fell off. I crashed, and slid downhill for 550 feet. I came to a stop by bashing my head on a rock. I was unconscious, but everything else was fine. My one friend who went first hiked up to me, and my other two friends skied down.

Once I got off the slope (which took a really long time), I was airlifted to a hospital in Idaho Falls, where I was placed in an induced coma. Even though I was only in Jackson for a short time, a lot of friends I had came to visit me. I stayed there for three weeks, and then was okay to fly back home, to Colorado.

I had multiple injuries—a broken back, neck, and ankle, and I had to have back surgery to fix that break. I wore a neck collar for a long time in the hospital so that my neck would heal. And I still have foot problems from the break. I wasn’t eating at that time, so I have a belly scar from where they put in the feeding tube. I lost a ton of weight- 30 pounds- so they gave me a smoothie with stuff that made me gain weight.  I remember when I first got to eat by myself, and I forgot how great that was.

A few months after I lived at home, I got to go back to Jackson and thank all the people I knew there. Since the PR company I worked for had some clients in the ski industry, a lot of ski stuff was donated, which gave people another reason to come.

There were a lot of things I had to go through to recover- physical, occupational, and speech therapy. And even though I was 25 (and I turned 26), I lived at home. Living in Colorado Springs wasn’t great, because most of my friends were in Denver or Boulder. But I needed that time to still recover- I wasn’t able to live on my own.

Now that I live in Boulder in a condo that my parents helped me buy, I’m in a much better spot- I can see friends more often, and since I don’t drive, I can take the bus everywhere. Getting back to the life I used to have will never happen, so I struggle with loneliness. My friends from before my accident are finding new jobs, getting promoted, and/or having kids, but I feel like I’m stuck in the same place. I used to have a great job, and was doing really well at it, so this injury has stopped that. I just have to find a new way to gain happiness, beyond my job. I haven’t gotten there yet, but I’m still working on it.

I am so glad that I have come this far, when I was so very close to death during my accident. But the way my friends acted during my accident saved my life, and luckily, worse things didn’t happen with the bones I broke. My life will never be the same as it used to be, but I’m lucky to be alive so I can adapt to the changes.

Post accident, there are a lot of things that are important to me now, that I never used to consider important. Balance is one of them- I still have trouble walking. I don’t ski like I used to, and that was so important to me that even my job revolved around that. Riding bikes is a problem- I never realized how balance plays into that. My parents have kept their tandem, though, so I can still get my biking “fix.”

Yes, things aren’t how they used to be, but I’m learning new ways to do them and find other things that make me happy. I’ve now realized that the sports I used to do were the main source of my happiness. Now that I can’t do them the same way, I’m trying to learn other things that make me happy.

Outdoor Mindset

has really shown me that there are more people who struggle with the same things I do, so it’s good to know that I’m not alone. It’s the simple things like having coffee with another

Outdoor Mindset

 member that matter the most. I find pleasure in the simple things now, because I’ve realized how important they are. Before my accident, I thought bigger things were more important—like traveling, being a bridesmaid in someone’s wedding, or having success at work. Now, it’s the little things that matter the most to me, and Outdoor Mindset helps with that.

Three Squeezes

Julie's race has come and gone, but she has one last inspiring and touching story to tell - and it's amazing, as always! On behalf of Outdoor Mindset, I want to thank Julie for sharing her story with us and helping to spread to good OM word. It's stories and attitudes like this that really make us who we are as an organization. That being said, if anyone else out wants to share their story with us, please contact me at jill@outdoormindset.org. Thanks again Julie - and keep running! 

October 2012:

It was 7 years ago this month that my Mom, Robin, passed away from ALS - Lou Gehrig's Disease. Yes, my race is over, the fat lady sang and it was loud and clear. But (one last but) I hope you can allow me to invade your inbox one last time and reflect a little. Personally, I gained a tremendous amount from the half marathon race, the Outdoor Mindset experience, the entire adventure. It allowed me to shout from the roof tops that when you have a support network and stick together you can make a difference in the quality of someone's life and give them hope and a smile. I supported others and was supported by others both during my Mom's fight and during this run. That's what it's all about. ALS is not a pretty sight and it never will be. We had other plans but then ALS reared it's ugly head and our family had no choice but to deal with it. The choice we did have was to support each other, deal with it together, dig deep and be real. It wasn't pretty but without that support it would have been unbearable. This race and my connection with Outdoor Mindset allowed me to sum that up, honor my Mom and put a dent in the funding needs for ALS research with the hopes of finding a cure so collectively we are one step closer to ridding humanity of the unbearable that is ALS. 

Julie and her 3-Squeezing Mom, Robin

Ever since I was a little girl with long flowing blond curls in pigtales, I remember my mom usually hold my hand if we were out and about and would periodically squeeze it three times. This meant: I. Love. You. This was our family thing. When she tucked me in at night just before I fell asleep she would squeeze my hand three times ever so slightly so not to wake me but so I knew just before dreamland that she loved me. If I was sick at home with some flu bug she would do the same. I think I would've died a thousand deaths if my Mom started telling me in the back to school section of the shoe store that she loved me just because she thought I was cute trying on new saddle shoes. It was our simple way of letting each other know we loved each other when it was likely inappropriate to speak it. So, three squeezes did the trick. I just sort of thought everyone did this until I got older and realized this was a Morhouse thing. My older sister and I would do it to each other if she took me to the mall shopping when I was a kid and we were together hanging as sisters. She was 10 years older and cool during those years when my mom was no longer cool in my eyes. You know those girl teen years. I would do this with my younger brother although he would always giggle. We still do this today. I carry it on with my kids. When my husband does it to me, it no doubt makes me teary, every time. It's her living on through us, in my kids whom she never got to meet, in my family. 3 squeezes - unconditional support and love.

As she declined her voice was affected until it was quite hard to understand what she was trying to communicate. For some reason I had this gift, this ability to look into her eyes and just know what she needed after she mumbled a few illegible words. I don't know why but I had this ability to understand her for the most part. It got harder as the months went on but usually we'd get there. It was a gift and it was all we had. Everyone had their role. This was mine. Sometimes she needed dad, sometimes she had to pee, sometimes she just wanted some gooey melted chocolate to suck on.

When Mom was on her last month of life she was under heavy doses of painkillers. She could only use her eyes to communicate in the form of blinking. None of the other muscles in her entire body worked, just those eyelids. We were lying in bed one morning waiting for her doctor to come to the house and adjust her painkillers. It was a beautiful morning, the sun was streaming in the windows that were just above her bed, the clouds parting, a slight breeze. We were just existing together, heads touching and holding hands waiting. Then she gave me three squeezes. They were ever so slight and a magical gift. It was all we had. I gave her three squeezes back and then the doctor came. Sometimes words aren't needed – thankfully.

What I've learned in life is that there are hard times, there are wonderful times, there is life. We plan and plan and inevitably life takes over and creates a new situation we haven't planned for. Those plans are not always welcome but we have no choice but to deal with it. The choice we do have is how to handle this new deck of cards we were just dealt. Turning that negative into something else, perhaps hope and creating positive energy feels good, almost addicting. This is not necessarily easy. This mindset is what lead me to Outdoor Mindset. Their one and only goal is to help and give support to those living with a neurological challenge. Living with any disorder is not what we plan for in life. When “life” happens, adapting to a new personal situation or a new support role for a friend or family member with a neurological disorder is not what we plan for. What we do have is a choice and ability to be strong and reach out for help or provide help, to provide support, to create laughter and love, to be there. Can you imagine living with a neurological disorder and not having that support? Outdoor Mindset does exactly this. They want to be your friend, but only if you're affected by a neurological challenge – that's a pretty great friend. They are that someone that's there to lift you up, help you get outside and feel the elements in whatever way you are ready for them; planting flowers, going for a walk, hiking or biking with the equipment that allows you to get outside, or a talk in an outdoor coffee shop, they will be there to support you, three squeezes.

Maybe I can't give Mom three squeezes now but I can 1) help combat this illness, 2)help others living with other neurological disorders live the best life they can and 3) honor my Mom while dedicating my time to Outdoor Mindset.

So, I continue running and helping.

Thanks for reading my blog series. Thanks for being on this journey with me. Thanks for your care and support while Remembering Robin. Thank you. 

Humbly,
Julie

Understanding

When I read this next blog from Julie, I was reminded of how important it is to have a varied support system for the person who is going through the neurological challenge, as well as for those who are providing support.  By varied I mean a wide circle that can help tackle the complexity of feelings, provide entertainment and distraction and even encourage strength and growth through the changes that a neurological disorder can bring.

One of the things that I admire most about Julie’s family is that they kept the door open and invited people in as they faced one of the toughest medical diagnoses there is to face. But, as in most life challenges, even with an enviably wide circle of friends, most of us will at times feel alone at some point.

It was years after her mother passed away that Julie was looking for additional support.  Living overseas, with all of the busyness and joys of a young family, she realized that she needed a connection that would help her work through the complexities of grief.  Through Outdoor Mindset, she has found a friend who is cheering her on as she runs and raises awareness and funding for ALS research.

Even if you already have a strong support system (which statistically speaking, most of us do not) it’s important to round it out with whatever other channels you need - professional or non. And of course in our opinion, the best environment for that support is outdoors and while being active!

Week of September 3:

Have you or someone you loved ever been affected by a neurological disorder? If you're out there, keep reading; Outdoor Mindset is here for you.  They are a group of wonderful people that understand, that care about what you've been through and can even make you smile.

I remember my Mom would want to get out of the house every day and that wasn't so easy but we had the support to do it.  She has tons of friends that came over every day. We kept our doors unlocked and people would just sort of show up. It kept our family sane too to have so many people help, want to help, need to help and we allowed it. We were (are) a very open family. We let people in. It worked, they wanted to come over and see us, we wanted them there.

We would get her in her wheel chair, down the elevator, out the door and into a new van set up for wheelchairs and we would take her riding. She would get out and we would all figure out a way to laugh, to eat ice cream, to have adventures, to have an Outdoor Mindset, to breath again. I remember driving after we had ice cream and there was a load full of her friends (we called them all “sisters”) that were in the back of the van all eating ice cream and she was thirsty. But she couldn't hold a cup and straw on her own anymore so this thirsty thing was not as easy as it seemed. I couldn't just hand her some water. We pulled over and her friends in the back, all goofy, funny ladies were laughing about something, telling stories, just having a grand ol time. We stopped, I gave her a drink and held it in her mouth for her while she drank and these girls were still talking away and of course making her laugh. She was now snorting the drink, whatever it was, out of her mouth, nose, ears if it could go that way. Laughing, all of us laughing. It was great. I guess what I'm trying to tell you is that perhaps if you're reading and you need support, we can help - just like my mom's friends helped her laugh during her struggling times.

My friend Jan and I are two people connected by this wonderful group and were two caregivers for loved ones with ALS. We nurtured and loved our Mom's through it. She's not only someone I've shared my story with but she is also a runner and helping me now power through my first half marathon. She is getting me mentally through some of the tough parts of this running thing that I'm brand new at. She is my supporter, an inspiration with her own ALS experiences in her family and a friend from across the world.

Personally, for several years I was reluctant to talk about it - I was exhausted from it. Now I'm ready to help those dealing with it or those who are caregivers and perhaps don't want to talk about it but would like to know that a community exists. We, OM, can provide you with support. When I was in the thick of care giving, the last thing I would've wanted to do would be to read anything about ALS. I was living it, breathing it and wanted it to end. Sort of a league of its own and well, if you're reading, we, I understand. OM understands. We can just be there for you if you are ready for us.

Thanks for reading.
Julie

Friends in Low Places

I’ve loved hearing about Robin’s (Julie's mother) attitude towards combating ALS.  Dealing with a neurological challenge as the diagnosed, or as a supporter, is never a welcomed challenge, but it can bring small gifts such as hope and a desire to push ourselves just a little bit harder.

Outdoor Mindset members are a tough bunch. Our group includes people with Parkinson’s who are learning to run, people with MS who will crutch for miles driven by their passion for the outdoors, people who are adjusting their love of skiing or biking by learning to use equipment that allows them to keep moving, and more. We are a group that does our best to always keep going, and encourages others to do the same. 

I can see that determination in Julie’s mom. In this next entry, as Robin rounds the kitchen island with a hero’s determination, she keeps going as best she can, in the best way she knows how- with friends, family, and laughter surrounding her.  

I can also see that determination in Julie. As she runs and writes, she opens up and develops her understanding of how her entire journey with her mother is shaping her into who she is today.

Week of August 27: 

The Baltic Sea

I'm out there running on the rim of the Baltic Sea. It's possibly the most motivating place to run. It's pretty dark and cold here in the winter so when summer comes and it's finally warm it's so freeing to be outside. It's the perfect time and place to start this running adventure of mine.

I spoke to Jan, my Outdoor Mindset running buddy. It's so nice to have support from her about what to expect on my long runs, how my body will feel and what to do about it. Today was a long one so not only did I pull from her training tips but also from her strength as a woman who has also dealt with ALS with her Mom. She's an inspiration and it just makes me want to run longer to do all I can to help.

As I run, I know my Mom is there looking down on me. That may sound weird but I do go into that sort of deep thought as to why I'm doing this while on mile six when my legs aren't loving me. She'd be the loudest screamer for me on the running path. She was my biggest fan when I was a swimmer growing up. I swam all the time; it was my passion as a kid, my sport. I wasn't the best at it but I tried to be. I still have video of my old swimming days and her in the background screaming. Kinda funny. You would think I was about to win the Olympics at how loud she could get those pipes going. But to her it was her kid about to beat another kid in a race, period. It mattered to her.

Yep - Bubble Butt!

My mom was using a walker for a long time and eventually graduated to a motorized wheel chair. Every day she would try and walk with the hope of not needing either eventually. We had this island in the middle of the kitchen and she would do “laps” around it: trying not to hold on. One day one of her friends, (we called her friends “sisters” or “circle of friends”) came over with a little bubble machine that was this funny contraption of a guy that pulled his pants down and shot bubbles out of his butt. Immature but it made us all laugh.  So, she would round the table and get back to the end where bubble butt was and laugh again at the success of her rounding the table, at bubble butt. This is a new definition of “friends in low places” thank you sisters!

So this was her exercise. Her biggest obstacle in life. Her hope. If she rounded that table without holding on somehow she thought (and therefore we all thought) perhaps this is just a funny phase in life and will pass. Perhaps it's just an ailment for this month and each day she'll round that table again and again until she's back to normal. Perhaps.

She tried each day. Each day my Dad would be grounded, positive and take it moment by moment and hope. Each day her friends showed up with a new trick up their sleeve and we laughed.  Each day they showed up with hope, ready to make her laugh, ready to listen, ready to hug away her tears and fear.

So I continue to run.  It makes me realize that I'm not sure I could live sanely without some sort of exercise in my life. It keeps me whole and centered. And wanting to help others fighting a neurological disease, get outside and benefit from that feeling.  And I'm feeling good. I think it's due to my overpriced fancy new running shoes. But they are cool. Stay tuned.....

Thanks for reading.

Julie

Staying Centered

Tonight we have another chapter from Julie during her marathon training. This entry sheds a lot of light on the challenges and importance of being a Supporter of someone with a neurological challenge. At Outdoor Mindset, we understand this important role, which is why our Membership and programs are also for Supporters. Take is away, Julie:

Week of August 20, 2012 

Last night I went out for a run after my husband got home from work. It was a beautiful night and this is the most unbelievable place to run. This little town of Djursholm. By spring and summer there are running paths by the ocean, to the golf course, around town and by winter they are cross country skiing paths.

I saw a fellow trainer wearing the I'm Running for the Stockholm Marathon shirt. I felt cool, like I was in a club and she and I for a brief second knew we were in it together as we were running on the same path deep in the wood while seeing the water peeking out from between the trees. I was running as the sun was starting its descent. I felt like the animals were watching and guiding and helping me along. Does that sound weird? I feel weird having said it, but it's the truth. Maybe Outdoor Mindset is making me more outdoorsie after all. They are, after all, the guru's in helping all those people living with neurological diseases get out there and feel life, feel the elements, feel that they are not alone. The breeze, the smells of the dirt and leaves, the little chirping and scuttling of birds and other unidentified animals were all there talking to each other guiding me and my runner friend in those woods for that one stretch of path over 5 minutes or so. I'm not so outdoorsie but I was hoping for the rain to come. That would've rounded out my experience somehow. I talk to my mom out there, in my head of course. Not out loud. I don't listen to music, I like hearing the sounds around me and then I can also think a lot more and talk to Mom. Again, weird I know, but somehow it's comforting.

If only it was as easy as the push of a button...

I remember when she was sick I would go to the gym all the time. It was the way I let out energy and kept centered throughout her illness.  So, several years later, when I found Outdoor Mindset, I realized that they were in the process of creating something important; a community of people encouraging each other to use exercise to cope with the stress and the grief of caring for a friend or a loved one with a neurological disorder.  I saw immediately that OM was so aligned with my belief in exercise as an important coping tool; that their programs could be valuable tools for those fighting neurological disorders as well as those working through their grief.  So I decided to contact them and they matched me with a partner (across the globe, but close in life experience), encouraged me to find an outlet that was the most aligned with my needs (raising awareness and funding for ALS research) and continue to support me as I work towards my goals.

So, I run another day for you Mom, for me, for our family.  I run for all those living with a neurological disorder.  I'm thankful that Outdoor Mindset is out there with the hope of helping all of you affected by a neurological something.

Until next time,


Julie