In 2007 at USATF Outdoor Champs, Lauren Fleshman walked off the track mid-race. She shares her story of doubt, determination, and how sometimes, through the dark is the only way to rediscover the light.

I should have been confident.

I was at the top of my game. Defending National Champion. I had my own commercial. I was (literally) a Poster-Girl for confidence, with my bold demands for feminist respect inked upon crisp new posters that hung on the walls of women and girl runners across the nation.

I should have been confident.

I was healthy, and frighteningly fit.  I had put in the years, paid my dues, been humbled by injury, and returned to the top. I had shown myself I could do it. Rather than having to fight and nudge and stutter step for strategic positioning like in years past, there was always a perfect spot waiting for me, as if my competitors had figured me into their race plans and were subconsciously awaiting my arrival. It would be a hard fight with tough competitors to finish top three and qualify for the World Championships in the 5k, nobody was going to give it to me, but I had everything I needed to make it possible.

Why then was I filled with dread? Why was every track race that season preceded by tears? Why was I flooded with evidence of my inadequacies? Why, as I jogged my warmup laps, did the swishing of my tracksuit remind me of the butcher’s blade at a slaughter house? Why did I want to be anywhere but here? I knew pre-race anxiety was common, but in 12 years of racing I’d never felt anything this severe. The 2007 season was like an increasingly loud drumbeat towards doom. Logically I knew it was just running, that it wasn’t life or death, that I chose to do this, that I had value as a person beyond any performance…but somehow this knowing just made me feel worse, because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get that true voice to be louder than the other one.

2 miles down, a mile to go. Somehow here I was. Still in it. The four strongest, all in a line, stride for stride, so close we could reach out and touch the slick back of the woman in front of us. All four of us were prepared, fantastically fit, beginning to pull away from the rest. I was in fourth position, mesmerized by the synchronized articulating shoulders in front of me. We were doing it. With each curve, with each straightaway, we pulled further ahead of the field. This was the group from which the USA team would be decided. But something was different in my mind from any year before. Instead of thinking, All I have to do is beat one of these three people and I’ll make the team, all I could think was, What if I’m the one who doesn’t make it?

It was that part of the race where everything burns. Where hard decisions are made. You know the part. Even though my body was capable of trying, the shouting of my mind was too loud to feel it. I am too weak, too big, not dedicated like the others. I don’t have what it takes. What if I am brave, and I still fail? What if I fight this pain, cover all the moves, do everything the best I can, and it ends up not being enough? The thought was unbearable. I could just trip on this inside rail and fall, and take myself out of the chase. I could allow my breathing to get out of control which would likely trigger my asthma. I could just stop. I could just stop.

Lauren racing in the 2007 USATF Outdoor Championships

With every idea for escape came an attempt to fight it off. I knew what the right answers were, but the competing voices got louder and louder until they overwhelmed the competition itself. I was no longer battling my competitors; I was battling my own darkness. And I decided, with 1 ½ laps to go, the once-magic place where I had made a name for myself with a nearly impossible to beat, long, fierce kick to the finish, that I would choose failure on my own terms. I disconnected from the train of fighters. I pulled over to an outside lane and stopped, still, quiet.

I watched them run away from me, around the curve. They looked beautiful, and brave.

For what I later learned was thirteen seconds, I stood in lane four, on another planet. The crowd disappeared. The cameras were gone. Another runner went by in a distant fourth, gamely fighting for her best on the day, without any shot of making the World Team. I looked back over my shoulder and saw all the other runners charging forward toward me. It was so simple. I got pissed.

I asked myself,

Can you physically run???

If you cut out all the bullshit, can you physically finish this race???

The answer was a simple yes. I took off, now in 5^th place, and ran as hard as I could to race away from the chase pack. I flew past the lonely 4^th place runner. I had no chance of catching the top three but I didn’t care. I ran as hard as I could, alone, all the way through the finish line, absorbed in the simplicity of squeezing out maximal effort. This was what I wanted all along. This is what I craved. This is what I used to have as my anchor. This is what I was determined to have again.

In the media zone, I was bombarded with questions about my unexpected stop, and made the mistake of saying that voices in my head told me to drop out. I was publicly painted as a head case, humiliated. It was abundantly clear to myself and everyone else that the biggest thing standing in the way of a shot at my goals was myself.

When a person injures their Achilles tendon, we easily forgive the performance failure that accompanies that, and create a treatment plan. When a person mentally cracks, we generally aren’t as forgiving. Up until that day, I had approached my escalating struggles with shame and anger. I kicked the wounded dog for being wounded. Over the years when other athletes had underperformed due to mental struggles, I looked down on them, and now that mirror was being held up to myself. To fix this, I had to give legitimacy to what I was experiencing. Giving legitimacy to my own struggles now meant I had to own up to being wrong about everyone else.

I’d like to think that human beings shouldn’t need to experience all struggles first-hand to have empathy and respect for the struggles of others. With all the pain and suffering around us, pain far more serious than a crisis of confidence in sports, we have to be able to respect the infinite paths through darkness that are part of the human experience if we want a healthier family, city, world. As runners, we all come together on the trail, road or track with our unique wounds, scars, and experiences that guide our understanding of the planet and the human condition. We see what we are ready to see in others. To pursue your individual potential as an athlete requires a willingness to face your shadow, to see things in yourself that are ugly or “other” before you are ready to, and respect them. The repeated act of doing this for ourselves can help us develop the skill of abstract empathy for others.

That moment in front of countless lookers-on, broadcast on national TV, in the context of my relatively privileged life, did that for me. I stepped into that dark place and dug a comfortable seat, and got curious. I respected rather than shamed the shadow; I worked with a sports psychologist; I did the work; I began to make connections outside myself; I came out the other side. I got a healthy relationship with running back, and emerged with something far more powerful. I was no longer afraid of the dark. 

BY: LINNABAH SNYDER

On the Navajo reservation, there is an awareness that running is part of our culture. We run early in the morning while saying our traditional prayers because it’s the part of the day we are blessed by the holy people. This is how running was introduced to me. I didn’t know I was a good runner until one day we were rounding up our cattle. My grandpa kept asking me to go after the calves which were going into the small washes, the bushes, and creeks. The horses couldn’t get to them, but my 10-year-old self easily could. At the end of the day, 10 miles later, my grandpa told me I was a good runner. That put a small idea in my head that I would try out for the school’s cross-country team the next season. I ran cross country in elementary, middle school, and high school. At the end of my senior year I was done with running, completely burned out, and it was not until 13 years later I decided to take up running competitively again.

My first marathon was more of a last-minute decision to support a friend who was also running the race. I had dedicated little training to it, and my longest long run for that race was 16 miles. I wasn’t prepared, and I did not have any expectations other than I would finish. It was a complete disaster; I fell apart early on and had to run/walk to complete the race. I walked away from that race thinking “never again”…   BUT then at the age of 30, 3 years later, I decided I wanted to run a “fast” marathon. After enlisting a running coach, a year later I ran a marathon in 3:06, which far surpassed my goals, and got me from 150lbs to 130lbs. Then I became hungry for a faster marathon. I went from a 3:06 to a 2:52 in the span of three years under a new coach. A small tiny idea/hope/dream/wish to qualify for the Olympic Trials started to enter my head.  

I thought qualifying for the Olympic Trials was something reserved for professional runners. In my mind, they were this unicorn group, unattainable for someone like me. Why did I think that? 1.) My age. I was older, most of the OTQ runners were in their 20s. 2.) My lack of collegiate running. From what I knew most OTQ runners ran in college and had some post collegiate training. I did not. Heck, I took 10 whole years off after high school. 3.) I had a job in corporate finance working for a Fortune 500 company, and my job hours were not fit for the type of training I needed.

In January 2015, I was going to make my first real attempt to qualify, then I slipped on the sidewalk and had a concussion 10 days before my race. I switched coaches to Mike Aish, whose coaching style was dramatically different. The coaching was meant for someone like me, someone with a day job. I ran based on time, rather than mileage, and when he wrote my workouts he wrote them knowing I couldn’t start my workouts any earlier than 5:30pm on weekdays – THIS WAS HUGE. Running 80+ mile weeks with a full-time job is HARD. There were days I only saw my husband for 15 minutes, before I had to get to bed because some of my workouts could go up to 3 hours. I was in a constant state of tiredness.

My goal race was CIM, only 10 weeks before the Trials; I was going to make my final attempt. I felt I was ready, I did the training, was at my goal race weight, and I had the confidence that was lacking in my previous races. When the race started, I felt prepared, and when I ran through the halfway mark I hit my goal time. I was on track until mile 23, when I fell off. My legs felt sluggish, and I my body fatigued. I wanted to walk but then I saw my coach at mile 25, and he said to just finish strong, so that is what I did. My official time was 2:44:59. Almost two minutes off the qualifying time. I was devastated. I went home with a great PR but not an Olympic Trials Qualifier. Then 10 days later the USATF amended the OTQ times by two minutes. TWO MINUTES, which had me qualifying by a ONE second. ONE FREAKING SECOND. Had my coach not been there at the end to tell me to finish strong… who knows what would have happened.

The Trials was an experience I will never forget. I was told to bring tissues to the race because you’ll cry at the starting line, and I did – boy, did I cry because of how emotional that journey was to get to that point. 5 years of training paid off. There was this moment in my training for CIM when I didn’t want to do the workout. I was in a 97-mile week, I was tired, and I wanted to quit and go home so I texted my coach, “This is hard”, and his response, “All the good things are”. That is how I would sum up the Trials, the entire experience and the five years of tiredness, through that text message exchange I had with my coach.

That part of my running chapter is over, and I have realized I want to run with a community. The 5 years of training alone mentally drained me, and so I joined a group of badass women, aka Oiselle Volée. At the Trials, I remember seeing the Oiselle community behind their women in such a strong way, and that impacted me. I realized, I no longer want to run alone, but I also want to be a part of running community that has strong women doing other things, women with jobs, with mortgage payments, or with kids. I have been able to find that here, in the Oiselle Volée community.

I am ready for that next step in my running journey, and I won’t be doing it alone. 

I credit my mom for instilling in me a somewhat ridiculous appreciation for quality. Growing up, we didn’t have the money to support it, but she’d say: “Buy the best and you only cry once.” Even as a single parent, she bought gear like a mountain ninja: the one piece (puffy coat, sleeping bag, backpack) that was also the best. And for the most part, she was right. A quality item almost always saved us money because we used it year after year.  

Since founding Oiselle, it has been my lifelong quest to establish that quality level for our entire line. But the category that poses the most challenges is outerwear, because the garments are complex and must perform. We started in earnest in 2013. And each year has included steps forward and important lessons. There were improvements, and fixes, and incremental steps. It was humbling and inspiring.

Enter the Vim & Vigor Collection. Like last year, this season will include six styles that I believe -- with all biases acknowledged -- continue to put us on the map in the outerwear industry. From the fabrics to the trims and the new details, it’s an incredible collection. One that’s been obsessed over for years, tested, tried, worn in all conditions.

We are proud to have a great outerwear piece for all the needs of an athlete’s life.

These two ready-to-run styles are designed specifically for varying climates, temperatures, and distances. The Vim and Vigor stand out for having:

The Vim Jacket ($120) and Vigor Vest ($90) are available in Big Blue, Frost, and Black. 

We hope you enjoy these styles as much as we do – and we thank you for your confidence in us to do great things. 

This year, Mel Lawrence was on a roll. She PR'd in 4 events: 2:05.89 800, 4:11.34 1500, 9:34.94 3K Steeple, and a 15:40.18 5K. Woman has got some wheels! She was 5th at Outdoor Nationals in the steeple this summer, which was her highest placing ever at a USA Championship. She is a 5x NCAA All-American out of UW with a 2008 NCAA National Championship team title under her belt. She owns the lowest combined score for a four-time Footlocker Cross Country Finalist (2nd 2nd 2nd 5th)... literally no other athlete has come close to that. She speaks French and cat. And she is also one of my best friends (my own brag). Let's take it away! 

JB: WHAT'S IN YOUR BACKPACK, PURSE, POCKET, FANNY PACK RIGHT NOW? 

ML: Computer, work notebook, wallet, a sweater (because the Picky Bars office can get pretty chilly even though it's 95* out), gummies from Sweden (Collier and I brought back a good stash from #SplishNoSplashTour), headphones, keys, and chapstick (always in every bag).

JB: WHAT DO YOU DREAM OF? 

ML: Well, like every athlete, making the Olympics or a world championship team is high on my dream list. I also dream of running as fast as my body is capable of, and knowing that I got there.

JB: WHAT TIME DID YOU GET UP THIS MORNING? 

ML: 7:30am

JB: WHO DO YOU ADMIRE?

ML: Ooo good question. I feel like I could sit here and name so many people and explain why I admire them, but they all have something in common; I admire people who do something for a good cause, and who stand up for things that they are truly passionate about.

JB: WHAT IS YOUR SECRET SUPERPOWER?

ML: Cooking? I really like to experiment in the kitchen, and I make something new every week. I think it's easy to get stuck eating the same thing day in and day out, and having fun with cooking gets me out of that pattern I can sometimes fall into. I've also gotten pretty good about creating meals with whatever is left in the fridge and pantry.

JB: WHAT ARE YOU LEARNING RIGHT NOW?

ML: How to mountain bike! I already know how to ride a bike of course, but I just got a new bike and it's awesome! So I'm just learning to get better at all the technical parts of mountain biking and that takes a lot of practice. So a lot of adventures in my future! Also, I'm learning all the ins & outs of the bike parts and how they works together and why.

JB: WHAT'S THE LAST PLACE YOU TRAVELLED TO? WHY? 

ML: I've got a good lists for this: Ireland, Finland, Belgium, Sweden, and Iceland. If you followed along the #splishnosplashtour, Collier and I ventured over to Europe to do some summer racing. We got to visit a lot of places that we maybe wouldn't have otherwise.

JB: WHO'S YOUR PIC (PARTNER IN CRUSHING IT)?

ML: My sister, Collier, of course. We run together almost every single day, and since I've know her my entire life, it's pretty easy to communicate with each other without even having to say words. We support + love each other unconditionally, and feel heartbreak when the other is upset or hurting.

JB: WHAT'S THE NEXT THING ON YOUR CALENADR?

ML: Right now I'm just finishing up taking my break from running. I'll slowly start to build my mileage throughout the summer and maybe do a few fall road races. Still up in the air, but I am already looking forward to getting back out there!

Big thanks to Mel for crushing it. You can follow her here! 

“People may call what happens at midlife “a crisis,” but it’s not. It’s an unraveling – a time when you feel a desperate pull to live the life you want to live, not the one you’re supposed to live. The unraveling is a time when you are challenged by the Universe to let go of who you think you are supposed to be and to embrace who you are.” ~ Brene Brown

BY: SARAH BARD

Eat, Slay, Love is my commitment to an exploration of self - a rediscovery of who I am, what is important to me, and how I live a life that supports a healthy balance of happiness, striving, meaningful relationships, adventure. It is about responsibility to myself.

Hiking in Greece - Views from the Kalymnos Trail (A rugged 100km trail around Kalymnos, Greece)

This story has proved a hard one for me to tell. Partly because it’s very personal. Partly because it includes and affects people I love dearly, and who have a much different perspective of what occurred over the past year. Partly because it feels a bit cliche. Partly because I am in the middle of the story - or maybe even the beginning - and therefore only able to tell it as an experience without knowing how it turns out. Partly because the biggest challenge I’ve faced over the past year was not being able to communicate what I was experiencing and needing. It is not the full story, but a glimpse into a heartbreaking and difficult time of my life, and how I am choosing to react.

Last year, something happened to me that I never would have expected. I somewhat suddenly recognized that I was no longer myself. I felt empty - a shell. I was unmotivated, inexplicably disinterested, distracted, and going through the motions each day. Things that had previously defined me, my interests, and my happiness started to feel like checklist items - including my relationship with running. Throughout my life, even on days where I didn’t feel like running, once out on my feet I’d feel motivated, satisfied with getting outside and moving. But instead, I dreaded running, with each step feeling like a mountain of boredom, strain, and slog. I accomplished things only for hope that with the execution I would begin to feel purposeful again. But I didn’t.

One would think that I would have felt my loss of self as a progression. While it surely was, instead it was more that one day I just recognized that I was desperately lost, unfeeling, and confused. The way I felt was so foreign I wasn’t able to communicate my emotion. I struggled to describe how I felt and understand what I needed. I didn't know what I was experiencing, why, or how I would go about feeling like myself again.

On the outside, everything was more stable than it had ever been. But as the life that I had worked toward for 32 years fell neatly into place, I found myself experiencing an indescribable panic, an unexplainable need for an unidentified thing. It didn’t make sense. In response, I found myself acting irrationally. I did horrible things to people I loved. I destroyed relationships. I was cruel. I cried, a lot. I relied heavily on friends for guidance (and didn't follow it). I started to refer to this as a third-of-life crisis. 

Last November, I left my home and moved to Montana. I moved into a beautiful house, shared with 4 (then) strangers, at the base of the Rattlesnake wilderness in Missoula. A person who usually prefers solitude and space, the home in Missoula - filled with interested and interesting people, wonderful food, and outdoor activity - became for me a haven of happiness and comfort. Here, I made new friends, expanded my support network, and slowly and carefully found my self and my strength again.

Throughout the past year I have explored the depths of friendship, and the love that people can have for one another in times of difficulty. In old friends, instead of judgement I found compassion and an eagerness to understand and help. In new friends, I found kindness and acceptance. At a time when I felt most lost and isolated, my community rose to meet me. They listened and allowed me the time to find my way, offering support without impatience.

It was in Birdstrike, that I reunited with running’s ability to bring people together, to make friends of strangers. In Birdstrike, I once again experienced how running can make one feel both weak and strong, completely depleted and simultaneously powerful. It was in Birdstrike that I remembered my love of suffering and my ability to overcome, my desire to help, and how to rely on the strength of others. The Speed Project was a race, but Birdstrike was an experience. Both a nightmare and a dream, Birdstrike brought me closer to myself - as running always has.

Long Roads in Cederberg Mountains, South Africa

As I started to feel stable once again, I made a plan to finish up working and to take 3 months training, racing, and exploring in South Africa and Greece. In South Africa, I rented a small apartment in Cape Town, spent several weeks training in the hills of Mpumalanga and the Cederberg mountains, and drove through the country from Cape Town to Durban. In spending time alone, without a job in a country where I knew very few people, my sole responsibility was my mental health. I was made to listen and reflect - to care for myself in all ways, simple and complex. I read books and essays, reconnected with old friends, made new ones, listened to advice and perspective, and rediscovered my greatest love and passion: running. 

Running in the hills of Mpumalanga, with 24 untethered hours each day and no pressing commitments, I once again saw the beauty of the world, and the fortune and fullness that accompanies a climb up a hill on one’s legs to watch a bright red African sunset. Time slowed, with activities as simple as making dinner becoming intentional and reflective acts. I made friends of strangers, in friendly passing hellos on morning shakeouts. I dined alone, an act of patience and quiet solitude, and made friends with waitstaff curious to understand my dining choice. I observed the lives and priorities of others. I listened, to them and myself. I learned. 

Eat, Slay, Love is about prioritizing and reflecting on the simple, but important aspects of my life. It is the opposite of going through the motions. It is about not looking toward the next meal, but focusing on the one in front of me. It is not about training for a race, but training to explore my limits and feel powerful, to experience the challenge and beauty of the world. It is not about socializing, but cherishing and prioritizing friends and relationships. 

Running Mammoth Lakes - Views from the Sierra High Route outside Mammoth Lakes, California (Photo Credit: Aaron Newell)

I returned from South Africa renewed and full, ready to explore my future, my priorities and needs. I sold my (dying) Subaru and bought a van. With the van, I can explore the challenges of living a nomadic life while still feeling ‘at home’. I can explore and exist with more self-reliance and flexibility. In the short month since moving into the van, I have visited the Sierras for the first time, ‘run’ through high mountains, and spent quality time with friends across the country. I have seen baby bears, relaxed in hot springs on a cool night watching shooting stars overhead. I have woken in the mountains and napped in the valleys. I have gotten lost. I have been frustrated, hot, dirty, and tired. I have been humbled. I have asked for help and offered genuine thanks. 

Eat, Slay, Love is about embracing fear and discomfort in hopes of discovering self-truth. It’s about being scared a little bit each day. It is about learning. It is about admitting that I don’t know what’s truly the right path, but being confident in following my heart. It is about quieting societal expectations and turning up the volume on my own expectations. It is about saying yes to the road unknown, to seeking the unexplored, to learning, to challenges, to strangers, to friends.

We are more than excited to see the fall line out into the world to be run in, sweat in, or… sitting on the couch in (that’s right, I’ve seen those epic post-run pictures). So here we are looking back on our best pieces covering the Eclipse Collection – the ideas, designs, and moments we love and want to share all over again!

INTRODUCING ECLIPSE

Behold the beautiful lookbook unveiling new pieces and the inspiration behind the Fall Line! Our introduction of the Eclipse Collection illustrates how the line was designed to help runners get out the door, and running onto paths, even on days where the surrounding elements tempt us to do the opposite. Need a little motivation to get after it and go for a run? The poem in this blog should do the trick. 

WOMEN BEHIND THE LENS

One of our highlights introducing the Fall Line was having the designs worn by women in our community, while being photographed by all female photographers. This blog goes behind the scenes of our weekend trip in the San Juan’s shooting the Fall line. As it turns out, sometimes the best pictures are the ones capturing the action behind the camera. 

WEAR THE WILD - COLOR COMBINATIONS

New colors galore! From Big Blue, to Ember, Burgen, Tide, and Curfew. The design team highlights key color combos that make styles stand out - Because it never hurts to have inspiration for mixing and matching.

ECLIPSE THIS!

Sally gives a reminder about the huge event (and hugely relevant to our collection) that will be taking place on August 21^st. A total solar eclipse! Not only does Sally announce the awaited total eclipse, but she also touches on how eclipses take form in our person lives. An essential reminder that even in times of complete darkness, the light will once again return. 

Today we are celebrating Flyte. And Flight. For some, flight evokes a fear that leaves them white knuckled sitting in a plane seat... for others it's a superpower dreamt of since childhood. But, for pole vaulters it's a daily reality. An inevitable component of their favorite challenge - willingly relying on a fiberglass pole to propel them through the air. What does it feel like to fly? Who better to ask than our two Haute Volée pole vaulters Megan Clark and Kristina Owsinski!

MEGAN CLARK

There’s silence as I stand at the back of the runway. I collect my thoughts, chalk my hands, and find the bend in my pole. In one motion, I pick it up, take a deep breathe in, and step back. This is when my jump begins.

I start my approach with a short walk in, a right and a left—measured at exactly five feet. As I hit this checkpoint, I start to run. It’s sixteen steps to the pit, and the rhythm of my approach is key. When I’m eight lefts out, I feel tall. My steps are bouncy, and I remind myself to push. At seven, I tell myself to be patient. I don’t want to floor it too soon; it’s a gradual build. At six, I tend to get antsy, so I focus on my posture. At five, I can tell whether I’ll hit my mid-mark on my next stride (a 4 left checkpoint). If it looks good, I start accelerating to the takeoff. I commit to the jump. By 3, all systems are go.  2-1-Takeoff!

As the tip hits the back of the box, I jump into the bend of my fiberglass pole. I do everything I can to keep my hips back and stay upright as the pole pulls my hands back and creates stretch in my shoulders. When I feel the stretch that I’m looking for, I aggressively close off the space I just created—moving my hands to my feet and my feet to my hands. I get my feet back over my shoulders before the pole starts to unbend. As it lifts me, I stay close to it for as long as possible, but when the timing is right, I turn and push off of it.

And then, for just a moment, there’s flight. Just before the fall, there’s a feeling of solace. It’s just me in the world—floating in space, completely unbridled. All at once, I’m weightless and powerful; I’m vulnerable and free. For just that instant, there’s nothing in the world that can stop me. I’m flying.

It’s not long before I feel gravity’s firm grasp. As I crash down to the pit, I become more aware of the world around me—of the noise, of the stresses, and of the changes I need to make in the next jump. And just like that, the vault, the magic, and the flight are over. So naturally, I gather my pole, and I do it again.  

KRISTINA OWSINSKI

The vault begins the moment I wake up. The morning of a competition and even the morning of practice, my mind becomes restless and anxious at the thought of picking up the pole and hurling my body into the air.

I pick up my pole for the first time to warm up. Remembering every mark on the runway to the centimeter to make sure my steps are on. My sweaty palms masked with excessive amounts of chalk to ease my mind that my hands won’t slip. I ritually measure using the length of my arm against where my hands meet the pole. Before I even get on the runway I religiously rub more chalk and test my grip until it feels comfortable. That familiar feeling of my hands firm on the equipment that I trust, again reassuring myself I’ve done this before, it’s nothing new, trust the feeling and get ready to fly. I step onto the runway with an accelerated heartbeat, using my eyes like a magnifying glass to find my step.

I lower my pole close to my body and gaze down the end to see the seamless curve of the pole facing down. I begin pushing down excessively on the body of the pole to make sure the bend is perfect. I take a deep breath and exhale the nerves. My heart settles and my body is ready. I step back lifting the pole, assessing how it feels between my hands one last time. “One…two…three…” a countdown before take off. I power through my first steps, zoning in on the end of the runway. I count every time my left foot strikes the track “One, two, three, four, five…” The pole starts dropping. As soon as I see the end of the pole in front of me, making it’s way toward the box, I’m signaled to punch my arms up towards the sky.

As my hands reach up I jump, feeling my whole body being picked up by the pole. A rush of tension alters me to contract every muscle in my body. Swinging my legs to become vertical with the pole, my body goes through the motion in a split second while my mind feels like I’m in slow motion. In the blink of an eye I push myself away from the pole to soar over the bar and begin to fly.

What does it feel like to fly? The stark contrast of control and technique it takes me in the beginning of my vault. The moment I take flight every bit of tension is gone. A true free fall where my mind can let everything go. Like jumping from a high rock into the open water, the wait feels close to eternal for my body to hit the mat. When my seconds of flight are over and I land I always appreciate the moment I know I’m safe and back on the ground. 

So there you have it, if we all had the superpower of flying that's what it would feel like. I'll be honest, kind of makes me want to hit up the nearest pole vaulting pit...

Kristina Owsinski is a boss. PAC-12 Champion in Pole Vault 2015, PAC-12 Runner up 2017, PAC-12 Bronze finisher 2014. 2x MPSF Indoor Women’s Pole Vault Champion. Second team All-American Indoor DI Women’s Pole Vault 2015. 2x Outdoor DI Women’s Pole Vault All-American. 2015 USA Outdoor Championship Qualifier. University of Washington outdoor school record holder. 2x PAC-12 All-Academic honorable mention, multiple deans list recipient, and 2016 USATF Pacific Northwest Field Athlete of the Year. And we'll also take this moment to annouce that she is the NEWEST MEMBER OF THE HAUTE VOLÉE! So without further ado... 

JB: WHAT'S IN YOUR BACKPACK, PURSE, POCKET, FANNY PACK RIGHT NOW? 

KO: My black hole of a backpack gets pretty interesting… you never know when you’ll need a pair of chopsticks? I also have about 3 pairs of fresh socks, underwear, Mac Roga Shorts and a fresh Hi-Ten Bra. Both my work and pole vault journals along with four... not one... but FOUR lacrosse balls for rolling. Lastly, I never go anywhere without my Sun Bum chapstick and an almost empty tube of Arnica in case I need a quick treatment session.

JB: WHAT DO YOU DREAM OF? 

KO: At night, it's cross between typical stress dreams of running through goo and not going anywhere, to literally dreaming of what I will eat the next morning while laying in a bed of wild flowers. Dreams are so strange! In terms of my life goals and dreams, my biggest dream is to use my time and place in this world to somehow help others.

JB: WHAT TIME DID YOU GET UP THIS MORNING? 

KO: This morning I was up by 6:30am. I am an early riser, not saying I’m a morning person by any means but an early bird who is productive once fed.

JB: WHO DO YOU ADMIRE?

KO: My mom. She’s the woman who can do it all. She’s taught me how to become an independent women who doesn’t take no for an answer. She’s also taught me to be kind, giving and selfless - and for that I thank her.

JB: WHAT IS YOUR SECRET SUPERPOWER?

KO: I’d like to think my secret superpower is being able to read people really well. So far this power hasn’t steered me wrong!

JB: WHAT ARE YOU LEARNING RIGHT NOW?

KO: Right now I’m learning so many things about inventory! As you know, I am a Oiselle store employee and inventory just speaks to me. I also have to mention I’ve been spending about every car ride listing to a Spanish podcast to help me learn a second language!

JB: WHAT'S THE LAST PLACE YOU TRAVELLED TO? WHY? 

KO: The last place I traveled to was Portland, OR. I went for a quick 48hr trip to visit my family and my 2-year-old nephew who is the smartest kid I know. I am totally bias, but really, he’s too smart for his age.

JB: WHO'S YOUR PIC (PARTNER IN CRUSHING IT)?

KO: My PIC would be my childhood friend Nono. She without a doubt will always have my back and I will always have hers. She is the main one in my tribe. She knows nothing about Pole Vault but is always pushing me to do what I love. She makes me a better woman and a better friend in all avenues of my life. We will forever be crushing the game together.

JB: WHAT'S THE NEXT THING ON YOUR CALENADR?

KO: The next thing I have filled on my calendar are a bunch of amazing Oiselle photoshoots so stay tuned for that! I also plan to do a little hiking in Mt. Rainier National Park! I’ve been in Seattle for 5 years and have never been... it's about time.

Big thanks to Kristina for crushing it. Welcome her to the Haute Volée and follow her here!

BY: TASHA NICHOLSON

I am a survivor, a fierce fighter of mental illness. I have a brain disorder known as bipolar. I fight the unusual shifts in mood, energy, activity levels and I never give up. By the time my illness was diagnosed as bipolar, I had tried over a dozen medications and devastatingly lost my job and my friends. My life was no longer flourishing, I had hit rock bottom. Rock bottom meant constant supervision to keep me safe and seeing multiple doctors every week. I was losing hope and it wasn’t until a year after my first psychotic break that I discovered the Oiselle community.

Running. A two-syllable verb that consists of the springing steps beneath you, mile after mile. However, running with bipolar disorder can be hard to understand. The severe mood shifts are a constant chase, a chase to stay level headed. The mania keeps my mileage high and my pace quick. I run effortlessly for as long as I desire without tiring. And when that up comes down, my world shakes. I no longer run effortlessly, I struggle with each step and feel pain with every stride.

At first, I ran as an outlet, but then through Oiselle I found my love of running again. I fell in love with the phrase “Head up, Wings out”. The philosophy is absolutely instrumental to my life; my ups and my downs. I live everyday with my head up and wings out, both in my heart and in ink on my arm. It’s a constant reminder to keep going, keep running and to keep the hope.

After discovering Oiselle, I joined the Volée. It means so much to me to be a part of an empowering team with one shared love - running. I became interested in attending a Birdcamp (a weekend camp with other Volée members). Despite the unknown, I took the plunge and headed to Boone, NC. I didn’t have any expectations, but what I found was amazing. In just a few short days, I bonded with an extraordinary group of women and I was empowered by their love and drive.

Despite life’s ups and downs, running is a constant reminder to keep my head up and wings out. The Volée keeps me motived, and has taught me that no goal is unattainable. Through team camaraderie, I always will have someone cheering me on through life and through running. I am so grateful that I took the plunge.

1. We all need a team. We usually have that growing up. Family, sports, school, music… we find a tribe. But once school is over, a lot of that goes away. Especially for women. The Volée is an opt-in team of women who show up for each other, in sport and life.

2. The world is an increasingly isolating place. As little as 20 years ago, culture was vastly different. Without a connected device in every hand, people used to have to, you know, talk to each other. Even though we love the power of the digital age, it’s increasingly isolating. The Volée is about in-real-life connections… just like in the old days, 20 years ago.

3. Life’s better with a goal. It doesn’t even matter what it is. Whether it’s a race distance, a run streak, a certain fitness level, or a marathon on every continent, we’re wired to want to put something on the horizon and move toward it. Sure there’s joy in getting there, but we also know that life is what happens while we’re making plans for the prize.

4. Women know what women want. Nothing against the infinite number of man-co’s, but we’re a woman-co through and through. And when it comes to athletic apparel for women, we get it. Not just because it’s how we live, but also because the Volée has a direct line to the design team, helping us iterate on every product —every year, season in and season out.

5. Membership has its benefits. A selection of premium goodies when you join, an entrée into a global community of women, plus free US domestic shipping on all orders from oiselle.com. If you wear clothes when you run, and you like them to be strong and stylish, the ease and convenience of a membership is an apparel lover’s dream come true.

6. The Woman Up Fund. $25 of every Volée membership goes to the Woman Up Fund which supports causes that help girls and women. In addition to the Emerging Elite Athlete Fund, which helps aspiring athletes reach the next level, Oiselle also launched its Bras for Girls bra donation program for middle school girls in need.

7. Birdcamps. All Volée members are eligible to attend to a Birdcamp. It’s like running camp for grown up women! For the past four years, we’ve seen hundreds of women arrive - excited and a little unsure - and depart with new, lifelong friends and connections.

8. The Volée transcends brand. Undoubtedly, we love what we do in the apparel design world. But running is bigger than a single brand. There is zero expectation of brand exclusivity with the Volée. Come one, come all — and come as you are!

9. Support and connect with fierce flyers. Oiselle is a company of (mostly) women looking to do more than design and make beautiful product. We want to build the sisterhood by sharing what we know about training, racing, goal setting, and performance. And we also seek to change the elite sport of running, being vocal in our demands for athletes’ rights, women’s rights, clean sport, and fair governance by the USATF, IAAF, USOC, and IOC.

10. It’s not just for running anymore. Oiselle lovers rejoice… membership in the Volée offers a powerful set of benefits without the requirement for mileage or racing. A new selection of member items means that you can #flystyle to your heart’s content while supporting the Woman Up Fund and the other pro-woman goals and dreams we’ll be out there chasing.

BY: DEVON YANKO For most of my running career, I feel like I've been harboring a dirty little secret: I take rest days. Not sometimes, not as needed, like religiously take rest days. Complete rest, unless you count walking to/from my car to get a massage. It is almost incomprehensible for me to run on Mondays. I manage to be a high mileage runner and rest like a boss once a week. But I never felt like rest was something that was celebrated in social media. Much like being “busy” has become a weird status symbol, so did not resting. When I was working on 3am bakery shifts and running to the bakery at 2:30am after 4 hours of sleep, I was constantly told how badass it made me. It didn’t feel badass, it was necessity and always grinding without rest, recovery or sleep simply made me physically deteriorate. I couldn’t race well during those years because I wasn’t resting. And without rest, you cannot be the athlete you work so hard in training to be. So why isn’t it celebrated, hash tagged and splashed all over social media? Thankfully I am not the only one who thinks this way. Enter #restdaybrags. Created by my friends Amelia, Jonathan and Caroline to glorify rest. Rest day brags is making resting great again and encouraging more people to enjoy their rest days and see it as a crucial part of training. I for one have enjoyed following their Instagram and seeing so many people embrace the movement. For my part, it has made me consider even more how to make my rest day brag worthy (room service french fries, anyone??). We interviewed the Rest Day Brags team to learn more about the message and movement (errr… you know what we mean).

DY: Tell us the idea behind Rest Day Brags? Why this hashtag? Why Now?

CB: #restdaybrags is just that…bragging (in a classy way, of course), and glorifying REST as a crucial part of training. A rest day is a FULL day of NOTHING, in order to allow the body to decrease inflammation and come down off of the high intensity training that it has undergone the days prior. The hardest part about taking a day off (as we all know), is the mental aspect of taking a day completely off. It actually ends up being the best training of it all - to learn and train your brain to view a rest day as PART of “training”.

When your idea of productivity clearly doesn't match what Garmin considers being productive... #epicrestdays #restdaybrags pic.twitter.com/sqiHycDLub

— Rest Day Brags (@restdaybrags) May 16, 2017

DY: How did you three find yourselves working together?

CB: JL you’re good at this answer….

JL: Well, believe it or not it all came together because of a pair of taco socks. I was racing The North Face California (wearing a taco themed team uniform in the marathon relay, of course) and Amelia and Caroline were watching the 50 miler (with Devon!). Caroline saw the socks and said something to Amelia, and the connection was made later that day. God bless tacos.

Jokes aside - a tweet from Amelia’s coach to which Amelia responded to saying “why do the hard days get all the love? What about the off days, where the recovery and gains really happen??” which was incredibly well received, and a movement was born.

When my Garmin tells me to "Move!" all day after a hard workout pic.twitter.com/yQgSdV3Enh

— Sally Bergesen (@oiselle_sally) July 6, 2017

DY: It’s becoming quite the movement - why do you think it’s catching on?

CB: #restdaybrags catching on because people are starting to feel the effects of burnout and adrenal fatigue more and more due to high amounts of volume in training, paired with work, life, and other stressors. It is a REAL thing, and when it is finally identified as something that is affecting multiple areas of one's life, it

AB: And whether or not we like to admit it, people look for a way to receive validation for their training on social media - it's why there are accounts with tens of thousands of followers where it's just pictures of run statistics or a snap of their Garmin with their "epic" runs. Celebrating rest days gives folks another way for validation - it gives them a means to connect with others, and to know that part of training IS resting.

JL: Totally. People feel a connection to another sense of community, just in a very different way. People are cheering each other on for taking that extra (and necessary) day off, or eating that comfort food that brings us so much pleasure. Amelia’s coach prescribes “Burger Sunday” (or a plant based alternative) which is a high quality Rest Day Brag in and of itself, giving honor to your body by fueling it with what we need to recover, and if something brings you joy, there’s no reason to limit / restrict it. Part of what we’re trying to build here is the understanding that food/nutrition is such a key aspect of training, and so many athletes are underfueled, so we want to help remove the stigma there too.

DY: Favorite Rest Day Brag to date?

Brunched too hard. #restdaybrags pic.twitter.com/70Dp8facU5

— Rest Day Brags (@restdaybrags) April 1, 2017

CB: One Sunday, I forced myself to do absolutely nothing. I moved 189 steps and I talley’ed up 11 hours on the couch that day, along with 5 meals and some Dairy Free Coconut Cool Whip. Does that count? ;)

JL: Resting so hard today I can’t even be bothered to clean, so I hired a maid. #minimalenergywasted”  

AB: the one that started it all - beers in the shower, just because.

Clear my schedule, you can find me on this couch all day today. #Friyay #restdaybrags pic.twitter.com/sig7iWcktn

— Rest Day Brags (@restdaybrags) June 2, 2017

DY: Wish / message / promise to the over-spent, under-rested runner? Why should they #restdaybrag too?

CB: Runner, swimmer, CrossFitter, badminton champ….it is all the same. Overtraining is like dehydration… by the time you start to notice it, you should have already began to make a change. SO, incorporating rest into your routine (even when you “feel” like you may not need it), is necessary because it then prevents you from getting to the point of no return. #maintenanceiseverything

Our friend Brad Stulberg says it best in his book: “stress + rest = growth” The rest days are where the magic happens. If you can’t run fast on your fast days, it’s probably because you’re doing too much on the easy/off days! Let’s remove the stigma of “more is more” and help people feel better about making the smart (and often harder) decision to listen to their body!  

So, there you have it. The rest days are something to be respected and celebrated, so go forth and give yourself those well deserved days off!