Summer 2024 was interesting, to say the least. It was packed with triumphs, sweet moments, and adventures. On the other hand, it was littered with illness and disappointment. Toss in a mind-changing realization or two, and you have Sorensen Summer 2024.
If you want to learn about our journey, I welcome you to keep reading.
I’ll set some historic expectations to start. I’ve always prided myself in cramming summer with as much outdoor adventure as possible. I relish those summers I can look back on and have my camera roll full of memories from camping trips, hikes, lake outings, backyard BBQs and more. (I’ve talked about summertime priorities in this post and others.)
Have you ever considered your expectations for what summer should hold? Or your favorite season if yours isn’t summer? It’s a fascinating mental exercise.
Camping: an expectation and missed opportunity (kind of)
I giggle like a little girl come spring when camping reservations with friends start to fill our summer schedule. We’ve been blessed to have a few sets of buds that enthusiastically work the ever-more difficult system at just the right time to book the best camping spots on prime weekends. Then, Mike and I sit back, accept invitations, and smug mug about all the fun we have lined up. (OK, we work on booking spots too, but not with as much vigor as our friends.)
It didn’t work that way this summer.
Camping and not camping chronicles
One of our go-to camping buddies (let’s call them, GTCB-A) booked a site on the same weekend our other go-tos were marrying off their daughter, and we wouldn’t have missed the wedding. Then, the lakefront site Mike booked in Central Oregon, which we were very much looking forward to (going with GTCB-A), got engulfed in a wildfire. An aside: “The consequences of decades of poor forest management season” is becoming regular here. Some call it “wildfire season,” but the former is what it really is.
But, not to worry. GTCB-A found an alternative spot. Not quite as cool, but it would still be a fun getaway. It wasn’t to be, as Mike came down with whatever garden variety of virus was floating around in August, so he wasn’t going anywhere. Our friends went anyway, and I had plans to join them without Mike for one night.
The plot thickened. As I was loading up my car on Saturday morning, my friend called me from the campground, announcing that SHE had come down with something and they were heading home.
Our plans for an epic lake and camping adventure went from downgraded to canceled. We had to laugh about the absurdity of it all.
It was a gloriously warm August weekend, and we were stuck at home with Mike sick. As I devised alternative plans, I noticed that our garden had a lot of tomatoes and various other vegetables ready to be harvested.
Since Mike wasn’t up to harvesting, I got after it. A pretty big haul ensued, and we were pleased.
Realization 1: A conflict of priorities
It hit me: in the several years since Mike started the garden, our thirst for an adventure-packed summer often meant forfeiting or giving away a lot of our produce that he worked so hard to plant and nurture.
My mild resentment for having our weekend plans wrecked quickly melted away as I picked vegetables in the warm sun. Coupled with the realization above, it posed a significant question in my mind:
How do I reconcile what I recognize as interests that are at odds: maximizing the garden output and packing our summer with recreation?
More on that below.
The sweet camping comebacks
Not all our camping plans were foiled. We did manage two. One was unexpected, as Mike’s art drew the attention of a gallery in Leavenworth, WA. They requested some of his art, which we were thrilled with. Thus, we planned a trip to the cute Bavarian-themed mountain town in Central Washington the first week of July. We dug around and found a spot at Lake Wenatchee. Score.
While there, so close to the famed Enchantments backpackers paradise, which we’d both had on our list of places to hike, we did our proper research and learned that there was one gorgeous day hike we didn’t have to get reservations for: Lake Colchuck.
I may write more about that hike in a future post, but I will say this: it was epic. Fairly grueling hike, but well worth it. Here is a view from the top:
Camping part 2
GTCB-B came through with a reservation we joined them for in September. Gifford Pinchot is one of my favorite places on earth. I didn’t take any pictures of the camping trip, but we did fit in a nice hike before returning home on Sunday afternoon:
Realization 2: A perceived conflict & unexpected merging of interests
If you recall my conflict above of conflicting priorities:
- It grew more profound as I struggled with my desire to attempt canning vegetables from our garden — something that I had delayed due to being way too intimidated (and busy) to give proper attention to it for a few summers
- It started to work itself out as things do when you think about them long enough and share your thoughts with others who have wise counsel to give
- I figured sharing my conflict was a good anecdote for conversation, so I started talking about it when people asked me how my summer was going
- Meanwhile, I posted on Facebook about my ever-growing obsession with functional medicine.
- While in a networking meeting with some business friends not long after that post, a coach friend of mine came through with an “a-ha!” moment for me:
“Summer, your desire to can vegetables goes hand-in-hand with your interest in functional medicine. Eating locally sourced whole foods is at the essence of that.”
Suddenly, I had a moment of clarity.
My conflict wasn’t as big as I thought. Instead, all my interests began to merge in my mind.
Yes, tending to a garden takes time – that time means there is less available for recreation.
My obsession with fitness, recreation and preventative health are complementary interests. It is not a zero-sum game where I lose by focusing on one more and another “less.”
Developing a holistic lifestyle that honors nutrition as much as recreation means doing things differently. The “a-ha” moment was, “That’s OK. There is nothing wrong with it.”
Shifting priorities as a rite of passage with age
Peeling another layer back, I realized I have always held adventure-fueled summers as part of my identity. So when summers don’t go that way, I’m deeply disappointed (historically) because I feel I have not been true to myself.
Now, as I am well into my 40s, my epiphany deepened to an altered sense of identity. Gardening, preserving food, making homemade sourdough bread and other creations, cooking healthy meals from scratch or as close as possible — these demanded a seat at the table of “my identity.”
Another part of this collage of pieces of my identity was a repeated realization in my more honest moments of reflection: I’m not 30 years old anymore. My fitness level, pant size, youthful appearance, and running/hiking pace are no longer the same as those of me from yesteryear. That’s OK, too.
That’s not to say that I’m incapable of achieving most of those things again if I put my mind to them and make them my focused passion. But I have a wider and deeper list of priorities these days.
I bet you do, too.
There’s a delicate balance between giving yourself grace to acknowledge the limitations of age, and throwing up your hands in defeat, assuming that because it’s not “as good as it once was,” there is no point in trying anymore.
I don’t know about you, but I’m too stubborn and ornery to allow myself to be defeated. I wish you an equal measure of stubbornness regarding your health and fitness. 🙂
This led to a new business concept
All these realizations were discussed with my husband and processed through the lens of a content creator looking for the proper subject matter and audience to pursue. We came up with an idea that we’re pretty excited about. My next post will let the cat out of the bag.
Summer 2024: Wrap up
You might think I’m overthinking this “summer 2024 recap.” Perhaps I am, but, no, actually, I’m not.
If you are a journaler or fellow blogger, you, too, know how writing out your thoughts helps clarify them.
Based on my former adventure rating for a summer, I’d give 2024 a solid 7. Based on the identity-altering realizations I made, a simple rank becomes more complicated. Holding the tension of conflicting priorities and editing one’s identity and subsequent expectations? That’s a 10 in my book.
How was your summer? Is there something you’ve changed your mind about this year? I’d love to hear from you.
Thank you for reading!
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