A Year Beginning Review
I don’t feel the need to explain how I got here. I know where I stretched, where I stalled, and where I stayed longer than I should have.
What I’m interested in now is decision. 2026 feels less like a year for reflection and more like a year for choosing: choosing momentum over comfort, clarity over convenience, and growth even when it’s inconvenient or mildly annoying. This is a year to do hard things on purpose.
Finishing What I Start
In 2026, I’m participating in my first ever half marathon. I’ve already started training for the Pioneertown Half, which means I’ve already started negotiating with discomfort: particularly, the slow miles and the mental math of how far is left.
This isn’t about becoming a runner or chasing a time goal. To be clear, my goal is not to run an entire half marathon - it is to simply finish one. This is about committing to something that requires consistency and follow-through, even when motivation disappears. Candidly, it’s been a while since I’ve been reminded that I can do hard things. Training for this race has been a quiet but necessary recalibration: a way to rebuild trust with myself one mile at a time.
Paying Attention on Purpose
This is the year I track everything. Not obsessively, but intentionally (though perhaps slightly obsessively). I want to see patterns instead of guessing at them.
Hours slept. Water consumed. Miles driven. States traveled through. People kissed. Dreams remembered. Animals spotted. Miles put on my truck. Hours lost because I missed an exit or a turn and refused to reroute immediately; though, in fairness, I actually love detours.
There’s something grounding about paying attention to the small, cumulative details of a life. Data doesn’t remove the magic; it reveals it. And it might finally help me quantify how I managed to lock myself out of my camper twice or why I was disproportionately upset over that one three-day situationship that absolutely did not deserve that level of emotional investment.
It also should make for a really fun “2026 Wrapped” slide deck at the end of the year. (Stay tuned.)
Being Selective With Closeness
When it comes to friendship, I’m being more selective. Not colder, just clearer.
I default toward warm and welcoming, which has served me well, but closeness isn’t something I want to give out automatically anymore. I’m choosing to invest in the friendships that challenge me, support my growth, and make me feel more like myself - not the ones that require constant explanation or quiet self-editing. The people who hold steady even when things get chaotic, unpredictable, or mildly unhinged.
This year, I’m keeping friends close and close friends closer… and being more honest with myself about the difference.
Choosing the Unfamiliar
To some people, my final goal may sound easy. To me, it feels genuinely intimidating. I want to spend at least ten nights on public land.
There’s no infrastructure to lean on. Just me, my trailer, and whatever comes up - likely including at least one preventable mistake that could have been avoided with better planning. (Like in June when I thought it would be perfect and lovely to spend an entire day driving through Olympic National Park to learn when I arrived that this park does not have a through road.)
Still, I want to leave this year feeling more capable and more at home with myself in uncertain spaces… even when things don’t go smoothly.
The Throughline
All of these goals fall under the same umbrella: doing hard things with intention.
This isn’t about burning everything down for the drama of it. It’s about removing what no longer fits so there’s space for what does. About choosing the harder path when it leads to more honesty, more agency, and more alignment - even if that path includes wrong turns, long detours, and a few lessons learned the long way around.
This isn’t a year-end review.
It’s a year-beginning review.