Although I didn’t have a name for it until my 20s, I’ve experienced social anxiety for most of my life. Sports have been an outlet for me, a space where the social rules and roles on and off the field are fairly prescribed and thus fairly safe. Most of my socializing as a young adult has come through pickup, league, and club sports — the sideline offering a nicely-bounded opportunity to connect with people before the game calls one or both of us back in.

Competition has become my home, my comfort zone. 

Despite idolizing athletes like Michelle Kwan and the Williams sisters since childhood, I came to sports comparatively late. I got into soccer, basketball, and track in high school, where I was athletic enough to play, but the late start showed in my weak ball skills. I competed in track through my four years up at Colby where, again, I was plenty good enough to play, but rarely good enough to win. 

You can imagine my jubilation when I found ultimate (as in frisbee) and, with it, a level of on-field success that had mostly eluded me thus far. Now, kids start playing ultimate in middle school, but when I jumped into competitive frisbee in my early 20s, I was only a couple years behind the norm. 

Ultimate has got a GREAT learning curve. It’s fantastic. Raw athletes can find success in certain roles, but there’s so much nuance to the way a disc flies that many world-class, expert-level players still have new skills to add to their toolbox. There’s a next thing to master pretty much all the way up, which makes it attainable and inspirational at the same time.

I entered Sports BizTM my senior year of high school, creating a 5K road race called Run for the Sun in downtown Brunswick. This was my first real taste of entrepreneurship and the dozens of hats to be worn along with — marketing, logistics, accounting, securing sponsorship, pulling everything together for race day. 

Following a couple of lackluster years after college, searching for purpose, I took my race organizing skills and translated them into Fyood Kitchen, a startup founded in 2016 that throws cooking competition parties — no experience required. If you’ve seen Chopped, you know the drill: teams tackle mystery ingredient baskets to create dishes in a gorgeous professional kitchen before sitting down to enjoy the results together.

Fyood is basically dinner-as-sports! It’s my absolute ideal way to socialize. (Most sports don’t have enough food in them, you see…) Again, adding the elements of competition and gamification to a social event enables me to feel comfortable. The sport of it lets me choose the buzz of competition and adrenaline over the buzz of anxiety.

Turns out there’s lots of opportunities to compete in the business sphere (though the rules aren’t as clearly defined as on the sports field). While building Fyood, I’ve been nationally and locally honored by organizations like the U.S. Small Business Association, MaineBiz, and SCORE.

However, just like on the sports field, awards are an incredible opportunity to celebrate the hustle and creativity and drive that have produced results, but it’s the behind-the-scenes teamwork that’s most meaningful in the end. 

The 6 am track repeats. 

The sweaty Tuesday evening throwing sessions.

The late, late nights cleaning up the kitchen after a whirlwind birthday party.

All of this competitive history finally led me to co-found Portland Rising, a professional ultimate team and the first-ever women’s pro sports team in Maine history. Launched in 2020, the state’s bicentennial year, it’s about dang time! 

Of course, coronavirus had other plans, and we’ve taken our inaugural season virtual as we wait for it to be safe to return to the field, and for our fans to join us in the stands. (Fyood Kitchen is also on a COVID hiatus.)

While I would love nothing more than to be welcoming all of Maine to a Rising game right now, showcasing top women athletes competing at the professional level here in Portland, this global break has also given me the opportunity to reexamine my relationship with (and reliance upon) competition.

In what ways might my competitive comfort zone be short-sightedly holding me back? Holding all of us back?

I’m by no means alone in asking these questions. Pro sports in general have been grappling with representation, with racial and gender equity, with their role in confronting and dismantling the systemic racism that’s built into our country and our world.

Sports are inherently political and inherently competitive.

Sports bring people together like little else does. 

But together doesn’t count if we’re not equal. 

Together doesn’t count if Black people and women and non-binary and trans folks don’t benefit from the results.

We’ve got a lot of work to do, on and off the sports field, to create a better world for each other. 

It’s time to RISE.

Together.

The Sea Bags Women’s Sailing Team formed after Skipper Erica Beck Spencer competed at the 2014 J24 World Championship in Newport as part of another team. Out of the 72 teams, there were only two female skippers and even fewer all-women’s teams. Erica left the awards ceremony determined to change this and to one day win the all-women’s team trophy. She shared her desire to start an all-women’s team on Facebook and Jess Harris immediately responded, already having plans to buy a boat and encourage more women to race.

After setting the goal to qualify for and compete at the 2017 J24 Worlds in Ontario, Canada, we gave ourselves less than three years to buy a boat, form a new team, and build a racing resume worthy of qualifying for the 2017 World Championship.

Not only did we qualify for the 2017 World Championship event, we won the Jaeger Trophy as the Top All-Female Team and Erica won the coveted Top Female Skipper Trophy (which can be won by co-ed teams). Since then, we have hoisted sails in Canada, Mexico and along the eastern shores of the United States, adding more treasured trophies to the team’s walls.

Just as treasured as the trophies are the experiences we’ve had, and the knowledge we’ve gained. We have been inspired by women who have come before us in the sport of sailing and value their shared knowledge. We love being a part of one of the only sports where men and women compete against each other, side by side, at the highest level. We aim to serve as role models for the next generation of sailors, giving them an opportunity to not only see an all-women’s team compete but also to outperform both co-ed and all-male teams on the water.

We’re also passionate about protecting our environment. Our team is among a growing number of sailors worldwide who are bringing greater attention to the importance of protecting our oceans. Part of our mission is to collect old sails and bring them home to Sea Bags in Maine for upcycling. Wherever we race, we raise awareness of Sea Bags’ Sail Trade Program, where individuals can donate their sails in exchange for Sea Bags’ product. Sails become worn with use and eventually are no longer viable on the water. By offering an option to recycle old sails, Sea Bags keeps thousands of sails out of landfills every year, helping to preserve the waters that we love to sail.

We are proud of the team we have become, a group of strong, determined, experienced, passionate, racing champions who are taking the thrills and incredible challenges of J24 sailboat racing to new heights. Every new racing season is a challenge to be better – to be the best team we can be.

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Image courtesy of Christopher Howell

Follow the team on their Facebook page: @seabagssailingteam

Instagram: @seabagssailingteam

Website: https://seabags.com/our-company/sailingteam.html

www.seabagssailingteam.com

Tri for a Cure Maine virtual takes place throughout August, 2020, kicking off August 1^st with essential fundraising efforts by triathletes with all types of stories. Hear what inspires this “mother and two daughters team” in this conversation between our friends at the Maine Cancer Foundation and Denise, Christine and Katherine Reynolds.  Let’s cheer on this trio and every woman swimming, biking and running for MCF in their neighborhoods this summer. Get out those cowbells!

MCF: Why did you first decide to do Tri for a Cure and why do you do “Tri?”

Denise: At first it was a way to challenge myself physically while giving back and honoring so many people I knew who had been affected by cancer- now it’s still that and so much more.

Christine: I honestly can’t remember specifically why I decided to sign up for our first Tri in 2010, but, I do know what’s kept me coming back for 11 years — the list of our friends and family affected by cancer gets longer every year, so my ability to help make someone else’s list shorter with an annual Sunday morning ocean swim is truly an honor and a privilege.

Katherine: I started out as a spectator, and as soon as I was old enough, I knew I wanted to be a part of the Tri! My first year involved the personal challenge of completing the whole swim/bike/run, and I’ve since joined our family team as a runner. Echoing both my mom and my sister, I Tri in honor and memory of the ever-growing list of friends and family members affected by cancer and to do what I can to support Mainers in the fight.

MCF: What is your favorite part of the event?

Denise: It’s so hard to pick one thing as a favorite part but I think it’s the feeling I carry through the whole weekend- being a part of something so incredibly special and huge that makes such a big impact for so many people in the fight against cancer in Maine, and crossing the finish line with my daughters and having my husband Mark there to volunteer is so special.

Christine: What my mom said! I would pick the whole weekend if I could, but I think that the opening ceremony is the most powerful part for me. We all show up for our own reasons, but to be in the midst of a sea of women who are all there to accomplish the same goal is a feeling like no other. The opening ceremony is a perfect reminder of how lucky we are to be a part of something that truly makes a difference for so many people in Maine.

Katherine: What they both said! And this might seem odd, but I love waiting in relay transition! It’s a moment to remind each other why we are tri-ing and psych each other up as we wait for our teammates. The camaraderie and support in that space is unparalleled, and something I will definitely miss this year – I am enjoying keeping up with Tri excitement on social media and look forward to posts as athletes complete their virtual Tri!

MCF: Where and how will you do the 2020 virtual Tri?

Denise: I will ride my 15 plus miles one early morning in August, and be there in a kayak near Christine as she swims, and cheer Katherine on as she runs her miles!

Christine: I’ll likely complete the swim at Highland Lake…date TBD!

Katherine: I’ll be completing three 1-mile laps in my neighborhood – and fitting the extra .1 in somewhere along the way. And, of course, waiting at my mom’s and sister’s “finish lines,” sign and cowbell in hand!

Best wishes from the Maine Sports Commission to the Reynolds and all participating in this summer’s Tri for a Cure! 

I have played some sort of sport as far back as I can remember.  I remember fondly my elementary school spring softball season, waiting to see what team I would be placed on. Was it the Wolves team that had a winning streak last season? Would it be the Blue Jays team? It didn’t really matter, because it meant you I would be able to get outside with my friends, run around, and forget about the pressure of life.

I participated in sports during each season throughout high school. It’s fun to think back to the humid summer double sessions of field hockey, the frigid start gates on ski team, and the crisp air of spring softball fields. I loved to play, but even more than that, I loved being on a team.

Community is what I love the most.  I love creating events for people to come together for a cause.  Whether that cause is a non-profit, or the personal goal someone will set to challenge themselves, I absolutely, completely, 100% LOVE community building.

Being the owner/race director for The Pumpkinman Triathlon Festival has allowed me to create what I love most about sports…an opportunity for people to set goals, take the journey of reaching for that goal, and watching them reach that goal as they cross one of my finish lines. Nothing beats the huge smile of pride someone has as they finish a race and are beaming as a result of their accomplishment. Some of my favorite moments are those where we are cheering in the last finisher. They’ve worked so hard for so long. It’s just awesome!

The only other thing I love more than community building (work wise, of course!) is personal development. Every athlete will go on a journey when they sign up for an event.  Starting from the moment of registration, to every day when they go out and train, they are becoming stronger, building grit, persistence and endurance. The personal path of growth is so much more than physical. My history with endurance sports has for sure has helped me get through this current pandemic of COVID-19.

Running has been my therapy and has helped me to just keep going…to keep putting one foot in front of the other.  I have kept this mantra daily as I have had to shift all of my events into virtual for 2020.  I could have cancelled, yet knew people needed something positive to rally behind. Something to keep them accountable, something to look forward to. Our charity partners needed funding now more than ever. I wasn’t going to let them down.

Sports have taught me to be a team player, always do my best, keep going when the going gets tough, put community over competition, and never, ever give up.

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Forward Motion Events contribute to the following nonprofit organizations:

Before temporarily stepping down in 2019 to focus on my young family and business, I had spent the previous six years as the lead for the local group of trail builders and advocates in and around the town of Gorham.

I am now an advisory member of the Greater Portland NEMBA board. Although I’m already getting sucked back into trail building as evidenced by the fresh tread found behind the USM campus. And I must say… I may have started this thing in Gorham and have done most of the “project management” side of things… we have a solid group of people committed to the effort and a couple have stepped up in my absence.

I got into mountain biking for two reasons; I was fat and looking for a source of exercise, and gyms weren’t my thing.  Second, I remembered (like many do) what it felt like riding a bike as a kid. I wanted to experience that again. Once I experienced singletrack as an adult, I was hooked. Necessity got me into trail building. I moved to a town which has very few options for riding. I found myself traveling to other towns to ride. When I started a family, that just wasn’t an option for me anymore. So I started by asking the town how we could build more trail on town land.  That landed me on the Conservation Commission which manages the town’s open space.  Being a community chiropractor created relationships that connected me with several key landowners in town. Both avenues allowed us to create at 30+ trail network in a 6-year span.

Sometimes I feel like I’m a conductor for an orchestra when it comes to trail building and advocacy – making sure everyone is on the same page regarding where, what, when, and how we can create this trail network. It involves a lot of emails and in-person communications, planning, and constructing, and then maintenance and troubleshooting. You are also a motivator, you need to find what makes people tick, and then capitalize on their strengths. We have this one guy who is a gem. He can’t stand the policies and politics but loves to swing an ax at will. I’m not asking him to join a planning meeting but when a massive tree fells after a storm, he is the first person I call.

I’ve learned that progress takes time and not everyone is on your timeline, especially when it comes to municipalities. Ultimately, I’ve stuck by three principles; be persistent, demand progress, be kind and respectful. The biggest obstacles have come from the town’s policies and funding. Funding trumps all as trails are not seen as something of high value.

The two achievements I’m most proud of are taking a town with 4 miles of old road and turning it into a 30+ mile destination spot for mountain bikers in New England (again, with the help of many) and planning and creating Maine’s biggest pump track bike park.  

Looking to spend more time outside this season? Stay close to home and explore all our state has to offer! Adventure Local Maine lists outdoor businesses offering adventure ideas and tips on how to recreate responsibly. This great resource suggests local businesses that have committed to COVID-19 prevention checklists offering a boatload of discounts on camping, fishing, climbing, kayaking, and more. AdventureLocalMaine.com 

Maine Outdoor Brands, a nonprofit alliance helping drive Maine’s outdoor recreation economy, created the Adventure Local Maine campaign to support “MOB” member businesses and encourage Mainers to experience the outdoors even more this summer. Wishing you safe adventures as you write your own new stories this season!

Life is Good

A competitive runner may win their age group the majority of the time. They may win national titles and even medals in international events. They may have received awards and even been inducted into Halls of Fame. The results and awards are satisfying because of the hard training and time put in to earn them. Racing competitively takes courage and results in gaining character.

But more rewarding and satisfying is giving back. This can be done by volunteering or passing on one’s experience to others. One can volunteer at races or meets by helping at registration, on the course or at the finish line. Without volunteers, there would be no race or meet. Get involved with the running programs or meets at your local elementary, high school, or college. Get involved by getting on the board or committee of your local running club. You might also get involved with your local USATF Association by being on the board or committee or becoming a certified official. Organizations are always looking for volunteers. An excellent organization to volunteer for is the Senior Games. Every state has a Senior Games organization. After working with the local Senior Games, a possibility is getting on the National Board. Maybe you will be awarded a lifetime achievement award.

When running, but not racing an event, a way of giving back is helping another runner attain their goals. You may even be a race director or help put a race together. Putting teams together for competition is helping others get awards they might not get otherwise. The team may even win local, national, and international titles as well as set records. Write a book on your experience in running to motivate others. Get race directors to recognize the younger and older participants by having appropriate age groups.

As we age we may have physical and health issues that affect our running. If we maintain the age-graded percentage that we did when younger, we are doing just as well as we did when younger. An elite runner said of another elite runner when his running really slowed he was an embarrassment. No, he was an inspiration! 

There is no need to stop running in competition unless it will physically do damage. We know that running is about fitness, fun, and friendship. Some of us older runners walk and run but we are doing it.

We know that to keep moving helps in having a healthy lifestyle. We also know that we need to do more than run. Cross-training or doing other sports is necessary. Most importantly, we need to exercise our mind, body, and soul. As part of your exercise regiment, doing a weight or strength program as well as core and balance exercises are necessary. Get others to have a fitness program by joining your club or activities. You might try trail and snowshoe running and races. Because of my maintaining a high fitness level, I have been able to get through three cancers and a blood clot on my lung.

When we run we try to run softly such as dirt trails, grass, and dirt alongside of the road. We also don’t run with things in our ears. Not only for safety so we can hear cars, but so we can hear our breathing, foot plant and the sounds of nature. There is such a thing as growing bolder. Take advantage of your fitness and try new things. My wife and I started doing the triple jump in our sixties, as well as my start with the steeplechase at 61. We both have earned medals in National or International competition in these events.

Helping someone reach their goals or set a personal best or record is more rewarding than any individual medal or award. Keep moving, stay fit, help others and you will say life is good.

Maine has 2,600+ lakes and ponds…without names. Waters you’ve never heard of because we just don’t talk about them, or don’t have the language to identify them aside from typical Mainer directions of “off the logging road with the orange flagging tape.” Someone down the line may have deemed waters too insignificant for denotation, or simply wiped identity when words sounded too complex to fit in maps. Or maybe we were too distracted with 6,000+ other lakes and ponds full of beauty to explore what we didn’t know. 

There’s so much we can’t put words to, can’t look up in research to prepare expectations for an experience — and that’s a beautiful space to become acquainted with through fly fishing.

I grew up in the woods of Maine as a curious kid who memorized birds and turned over logs in search of salamanders. My mother supported time outside by traversing streambeds and climbing trees in stride. She introduced me to fishing, borrowing her father’s spinning rod to cast over culverts and into granite pools of her own childhood romping grounds, sharing encounters with slimy and spotted brook trout. She inspired curiosity to learn by seeing and doing, by feeling until the words took form and knowledge was gained. There was always something new to see if you looked for it. 

Fly fishing became the adolescent iteration of nature-based obsession, this time as an excuse to see then-boyfriend and explore new water. It also became a meditative balm for growing pains, disappointments, uncomfortable changes, and other challenges that come with growing older. For every hardship, there were welcoming waters ready to soothe the soul. Interpersonal relationships became more complicated and uncertainties more visceral —fly fishing offered a shared language to release stress and be reminded of connectedness. 

As imperfect humans, we never stop changing and growing, despite the stagnation we may find or create for ourselves. There is always a different way to think about something, a skill to improve, a feeling to explore and fly pattern that just might do the trick. Every angler who picks up a rod and reel is signing up for a life of learning and deep connection to the wild places around us. You learn to fight harder, think deeper, and wade more thoughtfully across rivers and streams once you get to know their unique character and potential. 

These days, I’m thankful for the solitude a riverbank can provide to parse what is happening around us. We are suddenly facing what we don’t know regularly, feeling its impact, and wondering what to do. There have always been waters we don’t know by name — to be swimming in them daily is a different learning curve entirely. My hope is that we may all find solace by embracing ultimate truths: we can learn, we can do better, we can be mindful, and we can take a small step while we envision destination. A little time on the water just might help us see what is possible, and remind us of all we still have to be grateful for.

A note from the author: Bri Dostie is Founder of Confluence Collective, providing educational and mindful interactions on the water for those who don’t fit the fly fisher archetype. As a sport most often associated with older white men, there is much we can do to create a more accessible and inclusive culture on the riverbank to ensure the benefits of fly fishing are available to all with curiosity. 

While COVID-19 has postponed many group fly fishing events, be sure to visit the Confluence Collective website for more information on what you can do to learn and stay fishy in quarantine: www.confluencecollective.org and follow on social media for regular updates. Stay well, Maine!

Born and raised in Saskatchewan, I grew up in a family of five. And, by that, I mean a family of five skaters; my Dad was a hockey player and my mom is in her 40^th year of coaching figure skating.

Growing up, spending time skating on outdoor rinks with my parents, my brother and my sister were prominent moments in my life. I started playing hockey around eight years old and was a figure skater until 10^th grade, when I decided to focus my attention on hockey. If you’re serious about a sport, there will come a time when you have to fully commit to it if you want to get better and play at the highest level.

A pivotal step for me in this process was spending my 11^th and 12^th grades in Yorkton, Saskatchewan, where I lived with a billet family and played AAA Midget hockey. After two good seasons, I began getting some attention from WHL teams and colleges in the U.S. Then, I found myself at another crossroads: Do I play in the WHL, or go to college?

My older brother played in the WHL for the Red Deer Rebels, had a great junior career and was drafted in the first round of the NHL draft by the Pittsburgh Penguins. I always wanted to follow in his footsteps. So, I attended Kootenay Ice training camp, made the team and gave up my college eligibility. After one season, I was traded in the expansion draft to the Everett Silvertips, where Kevin Constantine and the coaching staff really turned me into a professional. We lost in the WHL finals but had a good season, setting many league records as an expansion franchise.

After the season, I was hoping to get drafted to the NHL or at least be invited to a training camp. On draft day, my phone rang. It was the San Jose Sharks. I hadn’t been drafted, but they invited me to attend their rookie camp.

Following camp, they offered me a contract. I didn’t have an agent at the time, and my mind was racing. I still had another year of junior hockey left, a major consideration. Later that day, without an agent, I signed my first NHL contract at 19 years old. I was off to play for the organization’s AHL team, the Cleveland Barons.

I ended up playing professional hockey for 12 years, spending time in Russia, Finland, Germany, and Sweden. Eventually, my playing days ended, but I wanted to stay involved with the game. I started making phone calls and exploring options. Then, I finally got my coaching break, and my family and I made our way to Wheeling, West Virginia.

During my second year there, the Maine Mariners franchise was born, and I wanted to be considered for the head coaching position. On February 14^th, Danny Briere called to tell me I was his guy! We were back on the move again – this time up to Portland.

In my life, I have embraced so many different mentors: my family (Wayne, Rosemary, Colby, and Tiffany), Kevin Constantine, Jay Varady, and Daniel Briere, to name a few. They helped shape me into the player I was and the coach I am today. My involvement in the game has allowed me to meet so many people from all over the world. But, best of all, I was able to meet my wife and start a family.

Being involved in hockey is something I never take for granted, and I wouldn’t change my journey for anything!