On coping mechanisms

My January sports

It’s been a bad month, the past couple weeks. I know you know what I’m talking about, so I won’t go into more detail here.

I’ve been coping as best I can in a few ways. First, by buying a lot of stuff—way more than is usual, for me—which has been enormously soothing and pleasurable. Most everything has been purchased secondhand—and nothing came from Amazon¹—so I don’t feel too much guilt about this spate of consumption. (Although, it can’t go on like this much longer; financial responsibility must be restored in the face of vast and scary uncertainties!)

We’re still furnishing our apartment, and Craigslist yielded a vintage, floral-print rocking chair; a butcher block kitchen counter; two lamps; and a (free) futon. A trip to Big Reuse in Gowanus netted a large plastic planter for the front window, a couple small frames, and more books.

I offered to help, but he said this was easier…

My most exciting discovery during this period has been a website called Noihsaf Bazaar, a reselling site focused on independent designers, which I stumbled across while looking for secondhand pieces from Arq (the beloved but now shuttered big undies brand). I have since purchased multiple Arq leotards, long underwear, and a couple bras, and I’m still checking the site almost daily on the off chance that someone ever sells a leopard print tank in my size. This is also where I picked up two linen curtains for less than the price of one of the new linen curtains I almost bought last year. Unfortunately, that’s not all I’ve bought myself, but I’m too proud and embarassed to list everything here.

Obviously, I know reselling sites have been a thing for a while, but this one just looks better, so I like it more. My frequent perusals have me thinking there’s almost no reason I should ever need to buy new clothing, shoes, or accessories again. I probably will, eventually, because I’m not perfect. But I shouldn’t have to, because virtually everything I could ever want already exists, and someone else probably doesn’t want it anymore.

Watercolors I did while we were in Maine for Christmas, in new and old frames.

To make this conversation slightly more relevant to this newsletter, this includes new or gently used hiking boots; hiking pants; running shoes; running shorts; Patagonia baggies; running tights; balaclavas and gloves; and more woolen layers than you could possibly imagine. (As paid subscribers know from my 2025 in/out list, wearing natural fibers to exercise or recreate outside whenever possible is IN, and wool is the GOAT.)

I’ve also been coping by running, fairly consistently. This isn’t really I’m something I’m doing to cope. No, I entered the Big Sur marathon lottery last summer and got in, so I’m running regularly so that I can finish the marathon in the time allotted (six hours). But, that doesn’t mean it’s not helping me cope all the same.

Although being “outdoorsy” is a big part of my identity, I often really suck at getting outside on a regular basis without some external motivating factor. Similarly, I am not great at staying physically active without a checklist telling me to do such and such on this and that day. Marathon training plans are really helpful for both of these things! And although leaving the house can feel like torture—especially when it’s dark or cold or windy—I’m so grateful I have this thing getting me out of the house and away from screens and all of the horrors, at least temporarily.

I’m using a different training plan than I did for my first marathon. I only have to run three times a week, and the mid-week runs are just 30 - 45 minutes long, which is pretty doable even in the worst winter conditions. It’s a longer program though—26 weeks instead of 16—and the longest long run is also a lot longer—24-26 miles, instead of 18.

The program was created by Jeff Galloway, who pioneered the “run-walk-run” method, so walking breaks during the long runs are not only encouraged, they’re required. He says if you take regular and frequent walk breaks that you won’t feel absolutely wrecked after your long runs. (My personal experience with this has been somewhat mixed.) He also claims that people who follow his method often PR, but since the elevation gain on the Big Sur course is 2,182 feet, ~800 feet more than the Mount Desert Island course, I’m not going to count on this.

A few other ways I’m getting through:

1. Drinking elaborate mocktails/juice cocktails over ice in the fancy stemware

2. Posting on Bluesky

3. Not posting on Instagram. I’ve signed up for Insta-alternative Pixelfed but it’s lonely posting there without any friends and family…I’m also eager to try out the Bluesky-version, Flashes, when it launches

4. Following cookbook recipes. To be fair, I only did this once in January, but it brought me a lot of joy to crack open my copy of Laurel’s Kitchen and prepare potato soup, just like my mom used to

5. Watercolor painting. I don’t often allow myself (or find time) to play around and do art at home, and I’d love to change that this year, because it brings me a lot of pleasure

A TikToker suggested challenging yourself to do *100 tiny paintings* in 2025. I don’t know if I’ll do 100, but starting small helped make it seem less intimidating.

I know that these coping mechanisms are enough. After all, I was already feeling burned out in December, and then January happened…

If you’ve made it this far, I’d love to hear what your coping mechanisms are right now.

I don’t have the energy for a reading list, because I’ve just barely been keeping up with the onslaught of breaking news over the past two weeks—which you’ve probably been following as well. But, if you feel like jumping in the comments, I’d love to hear what an *ideal Pinch of Dirt* links roundup looks like for you going forward. Shall I try to stay on top of federal threats to wilderness, climate, parks, trails? Should I focus on, well, anything else? Realistically, it will probably be a mix, as it has been in the past, but I’d love to hear what you want!

Until next time, keep on keeping on.

1. This was deliberate and inspired by Virginia Sole-Smith and Corinne Fay of Burnt Toast, who both gave up Amazon shopping for 30 days. But I don’t actually buy from Amazon all that often. I placed 13 orders last year, and my first wasn’t until mid-March. I still have plenty of room for improvement! I’ll work on getting that number even lower this year.