Why Forever Victory Lap

Posted on: 03.10.17 By: FVL Blogger Posted in: Blog

By Molly Scioli, written with Isabel Murphy

On August 22, 2015, I received the news that my younger sister, Catherine Nix (Cath, and sometimes “Nix”) had fallen off a mountain and died. She was 27 years old.

At the time, I was nine months pregnant with my fourth child. I was about to bring a life into the world, and I was preparing myself for that tremendous change. But I had no idea just how much the Universe had in store for me.

My three children tell me that I fell to the floor when I got the news. That image of me is seared in their memories. They bring up that night sometimes to total strangers, explaining that their aunt fell off a mountain and died, and that their mom fell on the floor and cried, “No, no, no,” a thousand times. At first, I couldn’t let myself believe the truth of what I had been told.

I had a lot to learn.

We have all searched for meaning in the wake of Cath’s death. Someone I spoke with about it explained to me that when people are going to pass they, “Don’t know, but they know.” They might do or say things that are almost like clues.

Looking back, I believe strongly that this is true. Cath had spent the year before her death tagging photographs of her adventures in the Tetons with #victorylap. She lived in Jackson Hole and taught at a residential school and treatment facility for disabled and emotionally disturbed youth. In true Cath spirit, it challenged her, but she loved it. She planned to get her PhD in child psychology at a school in New York so she could return to the Teton Valley to continue trying to heal young people in need.

Before she returned to our home state of NY for school, Cath wanted to keep a count of her adventures in the mountains. Cath’s brave and amazing friend Liz described the hashtag #victorylap as “a way for Cath to commemorate a bucket list. To see for the first time — or to see again — beautiful places in the Teton Valley, or a reason for her to accomplish unbelievable physical feats, like summiting the highest peak in Wyoming or biking Togwottee Pass. A way for her to celebrate her final months in the place she so loved.”

After Cath died, one of her friends and roommates in Jackson, Leslie, told me this story: “It was the beginning of August. I came home and was excited to see her car in the driveway, but when I went inside she wasn’t there. So I texted her to see when she’d be home. She said she was outside. I found her relaxing on the side of the house — a peculiar spot — in a green lounge chair from the garage, drinking a beer. It was a beautiful afternoon and we sat there talking about that day’s adventure, and laughing and reminiscing about things I can’t remember now. It was at this moment that I recognized an overwhelming sense of peace and joy in Nix. While Nix always exuded happiness — this was different. I remember thinking to myself: that a girl Nix, you can now move on to your next adventure knowing you fulfilled all of your Jackson dreams. All summer she was sad about leaving, but at this moment I feel as though she was ready. She was truly down to the core happy.”

Cath was happy because she had worked her way through her Jackson bucket list. After a summer of constant motion, she had claimed her victory lap.

It’s as if Cath set us up for the next steps. After she passed, #victorylap changed to #forevervictorylap. Liz used it on her Instagram account as an ode to all of the adventures that Cath had been on that summer and it has since turned into the inspiration for the nonprofit Forever Victory Lap.

Our goal is to continue Cath’s plan to help the children of the Teton Valley — and beyond. As Forever Victory Lap became a reality, we chose the Teton Valley Ranch Camp as the initial beneficiary of the funds that we raised.  It was an easy and natural decision for us. After all, TVRC was the reason that originally brought Cath to Wyoming, and it was a place that she loved.  During her time there, not only did she solidify her love of adventure and for the outdoors, she made life-long friendships with some of the most incredible people that you could ever wish to meet.  In the wake of her death, we received such an immeasurable amount of support from the TVRC community, and they continue to rally behind us to this day.  It was a no brainer for us to partner with them and their TVRC Education Foundation.

The mission of the TVRC Education Foundation is to provide educational excellence in summer camp programming; excellence that fosters responsibility, honesty, integrity, cooperation, conservation values and creative problem-solving among the entire camp community, in an enriching, safe, western environment.  Ideals that we know Cath was proud to live by. As we continue to grow, we look forward to branching out to other Teton Valley non-profits and learning how they support children and function in a spirit that would appeal to Cath. For more information on the TVRC Education Foundation, visit their website.

Forever Victory Lap is Cath’s legacy. It is about empowering children, and adults, to set goals and claim personal victories over their perceived physical or mental blocks. It is about doing something that you think you can’t do. Doing something that scares you. Or just doing something that you never thought you could do. Because, as Cath’s too-short life showed us, we don’t have time to waste.

We should all explore and adventure out into this beautiful world, feeling our own power and gaining unmeasured confidence. Just like Cath did.

Moving forward with a lighter heart…

Posted on: 01.04.17 By: FVL Blogger Posted in: Blog

Guest blog by Teddi Hofmann, a friend of Catherine Nix
Reflections from August 2016

I first became friends with Nixy while working at Teton Valley Ranch Camp during the summer of 2010. Following a few glorious months on the ranch, we, along with a large, rambunctious crew of recent college grads, decided to move to Jackson Hole for the winter. Our time together as dear friends, and, for a time, as roommates, was certainly exciting and entertaining to say the least. We shared skiing, biking, and hiking adventures, enjoyed nights out on the town, drank one-too-many beers at the Village, and participated in some friendly “competitive” events like the annual Jackson Hole Pole, Pedal, Paddle. We even went to Catholic Mass on occasion, most likely because we didn’t want our parents questioning our Jackson Hole lifestyle. No matter what the adventure or conversation, I will always remember how Nixy made me laugh.

Shortly after her memorial service in August 2015, Nixy’s family asked me to join in celebrating her life with friends and family by climbing the Grand Teton. I was honored and humbled by the opportunity to celebrate Nixy in such a way. So, as I prepared for the climb in the months leading up to the Grand adventure, I reflected on the time Nixy and I had spent together. I frequently found myself laughing out loud recalling stories she had shared and remembering some of the ridiculous situations we’d been in. However, those reflective moments of happiness were also accompanied by a heavy heart and overwhelming feelings of grief. As someone who does not process sorrow well, I became exhausted and avoided situations or conversations that made me sad. I was anxious about doing the climb because I was tired of grieving and didn’t want to cry anymore.

(L to R) Rob McCary, me, and Nix skiing in Jackson Hole

 

So it was with nervous thoughts and feelings racing through my mind and body that I joined friends and family on the morning of August 14th to climb the Grand Teton in celebration of Nixy’s life. We spent the first day on trails familiar to me from past adventures with Nixy. We shared a lot of laughs, chatted about the upcoming winter season and what “epic” lines we wanted to ski, discussed our visions of becoming “ballers” in our jobs and recreational activities, and of course, talked about the men in our lives. I felt completely energized and was blown away by the spirit, courage, and heart that everyone was willing to share as we continued the hike. Carrying Nixy in our mind and hearts, our group of new and old friends felt seamless.

When we reached the Lower Saddle at the end of our first day, we were greeted by mountain guides and welcomed into a fully equipped warming hut. Following a few high fives and bathroom breaks near the stinky pee rock, we unpacked our bags and fished for the large goodie bags of treats that everyone had hauled with them. Though we were all probably a little over prepared in this area, I know Nixy would have enjoyed the treats and the chance to offer her two-cents about which food would provide optimal physical performance the next morning.

Later that evening, we gathered on the saddle to gaze out at the valleys below. We took some time to reflect upon the emotional journeys we’d all been through, both together and individually. Words were spoken, tears were shed, and again, I felt a crushing ache in my heart. But this time I was surrounded by people that Nixy had held dear to her. Each of us had been working through the grief in our own ways, but in that moment, together, there was a sense of peace.

The next morning our group was up before dawn to summit the Grand. I kept my mind sharp and focused intently on performing the technical skills I had learned in the mountain guide training sessions the week prior. Determined to reach our goal, we moved with fluidity and purpose. Before long, we reached the summit and took in the 360-degree view from atop the Teton Range. Peering out across the sky, I was struck by a sense of awe and wonder of nature. While there is much in life that I don’t know and can’t control, by recognizing the unknown and taking ownership of my own struggles I have gained a deeper appreciation and respect for the healing process.

After a few minutes of celebrating our achievement on the summit, we began our descent back to the trailhead. With clear, sunny skies overhead, we took our time on the hike down, savoring our last few moments together on the trail. By late afternoon, we made it to the trailhead and were greeted by even more family and friends who welcomed us with hugs, high-fives, and a delicious spread of food and drinks for everyone to share.

What a gift for Nixy to have brought so many people together!

Grand Teton Climb for Nix, August 2016

I would never have understood how to recognize and experience my own heartache without the support of friends and family. But through the climb, and in my personal journey over the past couple of years, I have learned to embrace the struggles and beauty of life, love, and death, with an open heart. In sharing Nixy’s loss, I have been humbled and strengthened. And I have learned that with support from those around me, I can move forward each day with a lighter heart.