Even if you can’t go for a run on the beach, you can enjoy the sounds and the scenery.


Further. Faster. Higher. Longer.
Those are words that once described how I spent my hours devoted to hobby. I liked to go for long hikes in nature. Winters would find me in the backcountry with either a set of Nordic skis or custom-made snowshoes strapped to my feet (and a rucksack full of good food and wine strapped to my back).

Pre-multiple sclerosis (MS) weekends might have found me cycling or boating, landscaping, or playing an array of lawn games with friends.

It’s taken me a long time to process through the stages of grief that accompanied losing those pastimes. In many cases, I’m not sure I even knew I was processing.