2024 was a whirlwind—a year filled with unforgettable travel, breathtaking adventures, and memories I’ll always cherish. But woven into the magic were some deeply personal challenges that reshaped the way I move through the world.

Adventure with a Side of POTS

If we crossed paths this year, you probably heard all about our packed itinerary and once-in-a-lifetime treks. What you may not have seen was how exhausted, foggy, and drained I felt most days. I chalked it up to jet lag or the effects of trekking at high elevation (hello, 17,000 feet!). Maybe it was the disrupted sleep from constant travel or camping under the stars in different places every night.

But the fatigue wasn’t just about travel—it was something more.

The First Sign Something Was Off

It hit me during a routine blood draw two-plus years ago. The blood stopped flowing into the vial just seconds in, and my phlebotomist had to stop the procedure. My blood pressure was dangerously low—80/45. We couldn’t finish the labs.

From there, the symptoms only escalated:
• Dizzy spells and near-fainting episodes
• Brief moments of vision loss
• Fluctuating body temperature, fatigue and brain fog
• Air hunger and breathlessness—just walking across a room left me winded and gasping for air • Frequent adrenaline surges sending my body into constant fight-or-flight mode, even without a real trigger
• Tingling and swelling in my feet and legs
• My heart rate spiking from 56 to 105 just by standing up

Sleeping on the airport floor and lying flat in random places became a sad necessity. My body was clearly crying out for help.

Diagnosed: Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (POTS)

By the time my doctor confirmed it, I wasn’t surprised. I had already suspected POTS after Googling my symptoms. My official diagnosis? A “moderate to severe” case.

If you’re not familiar, POTS is a form of dysautonomia, which affects the autonomic nervous system—the system that controls things like heart rate, blood pressure, adrenaline levels, body temperature, digestion, and more. It’s a full-body rollercoaster, and factors like anemia, low weight, and high elevation (all things I struggle with) make it even more complex.

The Grief of Chronic Illness

The hardest part isn’t always the physical symptoms. Sometimes, it’s the emotional weight of grieving a body that no longer works the way it used to, and how I had trained it to.

Fatigue, brain fog, forgetfulness—they’re frustrating. But the deep sadness of not being able to rely on your own body hits even harder. POTS isn’t terminal, but some days, it feels like something inside me is slowly shutting down.

Learning to Live With POTS

POTS isn’t curable, but it is manageable. I’m still figuring out exactly what “manageable” looks like for me.

Exercise is a lifeline. It’s incredibly hard to push through my POTS symptoms (at times)—but also non-negotiable. Cardio and strength training help keep my symptoms in check and boost my mental health, even when I have to crawl back into bed afterward.

I’ve also made major lifestyle changes:

It’s a full-time job managing my new body – but I’m learning.

Everything Changes

This year taught me to let go of the illusion of control. My mantra lately? Everything changes. And that’s okay.

Despite the obstacles, my body still shows up for me. I trekked the Salkantay Pass at 17,000 feet. I completed the Tour du Mont Blanc—backpacking across France, Italy, and Switzerland, circumnavigating the Alps through some of the most majestic alpine terrain on Earth.

That is no small feat. For me, this is happiness.

I Am Not My Illness

I refuse to let POTS define me. I will stay grateful for everything my body still allows me to experience. I’ll listen when it’s struggling. And I’ll surrender and recalibrate—gracefully, when I can—to whatever lies ahead.

Here’s to a future filled with health, love, adventure, deep connection, and the continued practice of letting go.

Happy surrendering and recalibrating, my friends.

Let’s keep embracing the beautiful mess that is this life.