Moving Through

NYC, June 2026. This trip to the city was one for the books. (And being there the same week the Knicks won the NBA Finals was pretty awesome; buildings like this one in the background were lit up orange and blue throughout the city.) Hello, fellow travelers! After a string of damp, dreary days here in northern Michigan, the sun made an appearance first thing this morning. The light and warmth boosted my spirits and has me thinking about a trek later today to Lake Michigan.

My hometown downtown beach. Traverse City, Michigan ~ April 2026 Last week was a whirlwind. I might still be catching my breath, if this evening’s mini-meltdown in my kitchen is any indication of my attempt at recovering from the past several days. I’m OK, I am, but you know when things just catch up with you? That’s me, tonight. Thankfully, two days into this extra-busy work week, I’m now comfy on our living room couch, my favorite plush blanket pulled over my legs and lap.

One of my favorite assignments with the Michigan Department of Natural Resources found me here, at this remote state forest campground on Pretty Lake in the Upper Peninsula. I love this photo so much I made it my screensaver on my work laptop. / Fall 2024 Hello, friends! As I begin a new professional adventure, which I share later in this issue, I decided to travel back to spring 2023 and this essay I wrote back then.

2 great warm-weather races to check out (and a discount code!), plus the book I can't put down right now. The scenes show up unbidden, suddenly filling my mind as I trudge through our front lawn still blanketed with snow despite a string of warmer days.

Celebratory chocolate, for a February win. Hello, fellow Moving Through travelers! I’ve been out and about recently, downstate in Lansing and Grand Rapids for work and to spend time with two of my kids, but today I am back home, writing from northern Michigan, where Mother Nature is sneaky in February. We momentarily forget and start to believe spring is maybe just around the corner even though it very much is not.

A moment of recent beauty I am holding on to these days. A good friend and I snowshoed together on our neighborhood trails. I know before I turn my hands over, revealing my palms, that my fingertips will be gray black, smudged with decades-old old newspaper ink. I’m not even halfway through the beige bin containing stacks of folded papers dated 1997, 1998, 1999, 2000. I keep going through the stack, sorting out the clipped articles, setting aside entire sections I’d chosen to keep.

Current time: 0:00 / Total time: -1:12:46 Audio playback is not supported on your browser. Please upgrade. You can run outdoors all winter long — and even come to love it! (OK, at the very least, embrace it.) In this episode, I stop by downtown Traverse City’s Running Fit (now known as Feet Fleet) to talk winter running and outdoor exploring with running shoe experts Marc McCombs and Alison Goss.

A peaceful moment during my run today, Dec. 31, 2025. Hello there, fellow Moving Through travelers! I’m popping by with two final-day-of-2025 thoughts on this New Year’s Eve, which is frigid and snowy here in northern Michigan. I hope you’re warm and safe and doing something you enjoy this cold winter evening. I ran a few miles today for one main reason: I knew I’d feel great having done it, and if I was lucky, I’d feel pretty good while out there on blanketed neighborhood streets, too.

The day stretched before me, long and open and full of possibilities. The hours ahead also were completely mine and mine alone: Emma was at her daylong interview, we’d decided to meet up late afternoon, and all I needed to do was pack up and check out of our hotel. Then, it was just me and the streets of Manhattan. There’s a giddiness that washes over me when these kinds of precious moments show up. Free time, to do whatever it is I alone choose.

Another way to embrace the outdoors this winter: snowshoe running. Join Heather and co-host Cassy Stone in this special episode from the archives as they talk about their love of running in the snow — on snowshoes.