Rest, Relief… or Avoidance?


Lately, I’ve been paying attention to how people are managing stress. Not in a judgmental way, more in a curious one. Conversations with clients, friends, myself, and community members keep circling the same question:

Where’s the line between self-care and escapism? And does that line even exist?

I don’t think the answer is as simple as “screens bad, nature good” or “rest good, distraction bad.” Real life is more nuanced than that. And so are we.

I love creative television. Anything where humans are making things, drag, makeup, pastries, costumes, art, lights me up.

There’s something deeply regulating for me about watching people create under pressure, support one another, and express themselves together. These shows help my nervous system downshift. They make me happy.

Same with podcasts. I’m a longtime true crime fan, science, self-help, and even wine, funny, because I don’t drink much anymore… but I still love listening to people talk about wine. There’s humor, storytelling, and connection there.

And games. I’m an old-school gamer. We had a Tandy 2000 computer in the early 90's, and I played every Sierra adventure game with my dad as a kid, King’s Quest, Space Quest, Police Quest. That sense of curiosity, problem-solving, and immersion still feels comforting. These days it’s I still like puzzle games, and simulations, and yes… sometimes I still revisit the old Sierra games. All of these things can be restorative for me. But they haven’t always been.

Here’s the part I’ve been sitting with:

I have a history of hiding from hard things. Not dramatically. Not obviously. Quietly. Productively. Respectably. I’m very good at choosing “acceptable” distractions. The kind that look like self-care from the outside. And sometimes they are.

But sometimes… they’re a way to not feel what’s asking to be felt.
Not name what’s uncomfortable.
Not have the conversation.
Not take the next small, scary step.

The difference, I’m realizing, isn’t what I’m doing. It’s why, when, and how. I don’t think TV, games, or podcasts are inherently escapist. I think uncontained, unintentional use is where things get slippery.

Some questions I’ve been asking myself:

  • Am I choosing this after tending to something hard, or instead of it?
  • Do I feel more resourced afterward… or more numb?
  • Is this a pause with an edge and a return point, or a blur that swallows the evening?
  • Did I decide intentionally to rest, or did I default?

A show watched deliberately, as a way to downshift and reconnect with joy, is very different from three episodes deep because I don’t want to sit with my thoughts. Same activity. Totally different nervous system experience. The container matters.

What I’m Practicing Instead (When I Notice the Pull):

When I catch myself reaching for escape instead of care, I’m trying not to shame it. That never helps.

Instead, I pause and ask:What am I actually needing right now?

Sometimes the answer really is rest.
Sometimes it’s comfort.
Sometimes it’s creativity.
And sometimes… it’s courage.

On those days, I try to do the smallest possible version of the hard thing first:

  • Send the text.
  • Write the messy paragraph.
  • Take the five-minute walk.
  • Name the feeling out loud.

Then I rest. Not as avoidance, but as recovery.

This isn’t about perfection or purity or cutting out the things that bring joy. It’s about honesty. Self-care isn’t defined by the activity, it’s defined by whether it helps you come back to yourself… or disappear from yourself.

And that line? It moves. It changes with seasons, stress levels, and capacity.

I don’t think the goal is to eliminate escape. I think the goal is to notice when we’re using it to survive instead of support ourselves. I’m still learning this in real time. And I suspect many of us are.

If this has been coming up for you too, you’re not alone. And you’re not doing it wrong. Just… maybe it’s time to get curious.

NBC-HWC | ACSM-CPT

⛰️Mental PEAKS: Small Acts of Courage

Monday was Martin Luther King Jr. Day.

And every year, I find myself thinking less about the quotes we repost and more about the daily practices that made his work possible.

MLK wasn’t just a dreamer, he was disciplined, uncomfortable, strategic, and deeply committed to nonviolence even when it cost him. He showed up again and again in ways that were inconvenient, dangerous, and misunderstood.

Most of us won’t lead movements. But we all have moments where courage is required.

Being more like MLK in small ways might look like:

  • Speaking up when staying quiet would be easier
  • Listening when we’d rather defend
  • Choosing compassion over righteousness
  • Staying engaged instead of checking out
  • Doing the unglamorous, repetitive work of living our values

It’s not about being loud. It’s about being consistent.

Real change is built in conversations, choices, and boundaries that don’t make headlines, but do shape culture.

So this feels like an invitation to ask: Where can I practice courage, dignity, and care, right where I am?

No grand gestures required. Just the willingness to act with intention, even when it’s uncomfortable. That’s how movements live on.

Goal Smash 2026: In-Person + Virtual Workshop
Saturday, January 24th | 10 AM–12 PM PT
Join me for or a focused, high-impact 2-hour workshop to reflect on the past year, clarify your goals, and create a grounded, realistic action plan for 2026.

Open to all, whether you're working on health, mindset, career, or overall alignment.

✔️ Free for Unlimited Members, Thrive Challengers, Academy Students, and Active Clients
✔️ $28 Drop-In for non-members
✔️ Optional $15 full-color printed workbook (in-studio only)
✔️ All sign-ups receive a Zoom link + recording

Reserve your spot now:https://bit.ly/2026GoalSmash

Space is limited—save your spot early and step into 2026 with clarity and confidence.

How I can help you right now:

Never Stop Learning:

Get your resources here...

Summit Stronger LLC | PO Box 2805 Kings Beach, CA 96143

Unsubscribe · Preferences

Summit Stronger

We help adventurous, high-performing humans train smarter, eat better, and build unshakable habits, without burnout or BS. Welcome to Summit Stronger.

Read more from Summit Stronger
Two people cross-country skiing on a snowy trail

Hi friends, These past weeks have been heavy in Tahoe. The Castle Peak avalanche. The multiple resort deaths. The texts that start with, “Did you hear…?” If you live here long enough, you know this truth: the mountains give us so much. And sometimes, they take. I’m not writing to debate decisions. I’m not writing to speculate about what someone should or shouldn’t have done. And I’m definitely not interested in adding to the noise of armchair experts who have never stood in a whiteout, never...

person walking on beach during daytime

There’s something humbling about realizing you need to revisit the very things you teach. Lately, I’ve been relearning and re-implementing strategies I’ve used hundreds of times. Not new hacks. Not shiny new systems. The basics. Just because I’m a coach doesn’t mean I have everything nailed. In fact, I’d argue the opposite: the best coaches are realistic and vulnerable enough to admit when they’ve drifted. When their boundaries blur. When sleep hygiene slips. When nutrition becomes reactive....

Man in headphones raises fist outdoors.

Mountain culture prides itself on resilience. We work in tough conditions. We recreate in unpredictable environments. We accept risk, discomfort, and effort as part of the deal. Being a “mountain person” often means you’re willing to push through weather, terrain, fatigue, and fear. And yet, something interesting happens when that same discomfort shows up off the hill. When movement feels awkward. When strength work feels humbling. When training doesn’t match the identity we already have of...