{"id":26651,"date":"2026-08-30T21:10:37","date_gmt":"2026-08-30T21:10:37","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/happyinthehills.com\/zentriathlete\/?p=26651"},"modified":"2026-08-30T21:27:30","modified_gmt":"2026-08-30T21:27:30","slug":"apraaft","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/happyinthehills.com\/zentriathlete\/2026\/08\/30\/apraaft\/","title":{"rendered":"A PDA reflection across a family trip"},"content":{"rendered":"\t\t
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The Thin Place at the Edge of the Trip<\/h3><\/div>\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
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Our most recent trip to Disneyland Resort in Anaheim didn\u2019t begin neutral. It began thin \u2014 a thinness I felt before we even left home. I was navigating two distinct human PDA architectures from the start. <\/span><\/p>\n

My 20\u2011year\u2011old needs advance knowledge of any trip so they can ask for the workspace they need to be and feel included.\u00a0<\/span> Predictability itself becomes a stable and known pathway to regulation for them. <\/span><\/p>\n

My 8\u2011year\u2011old is similar and also the opposite \u2014 surprises overwhelm her, but anticipation overwhelms her too. Either direction creates pressure. I was already holding two different nervous\u2011system realities before Day One even began.<\/span><\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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Journey from chaos seeking rest, recovery and relief<\/h3><\/div>\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
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Day One opened with a collapse most people wouldn\u2019t see. I saw it quickly, but it also came forward in its own measure. My 20\u2011year\u2011old didn\u2019t melt down or withdraw dramatically. They tightened. Their posture shifted in that way I\u2019ve learned to recognize \u2014 the quiet bracing that shows up when their internal load spikes faster than they can communicate. They looked calm, but I could feel the storm underneath. Their presence pulled back. The center of the trip moved with them.\u00a0 It wasn’t until much later after an eruption that the anxiety ridden miscalibrated expectations were finally surfaced.\u00a0 The journey to get there tho – from the outside in – looks chaotically nuclear!<\/span><\/p>\n

My 8\u2011year\u2011old was percolating in her own currents. Not in words \u2014 deep within her body. She often reacts to tension\/friction long before she understands it. As the pressure between my wife and our oldest started to surface, my daughter\u2019s sensitivity also kicked in. Her reactions sharpened. Her energy rose. I wasn\u2019t surprised, but I didn\u2019t yet know why everything was hitting this hard. We had already burned energy on the drive down \u2014 the wildland fires along I\u201115 near Beaver slowed us, stressed us, and added a layer of unpredictability none of us needed.<\/span><\/p>\n

I felt the full weight last. Not because I wasn\u2019t paying attention, but because my role activates when everything converges. When both kids shift. When my wife starts absorbing too much. When the emotional load becomes something I need to stabilize. That\u2019s when I step in.<\/span><\/p>\n

And here\u2019s the rupture that surfaced – I only recognized this when I started writing around tis memory: I realized the thinness wasn\u2019t something that happened on Day One. It was already there. I didn\u2019t see it until I tried to put the story into words. The writing showed me what the moment didn\u2019t \u2014 that the trip began under strain, under tension, under competing needs that were already stretching us before anything went wrong.\u00a0 This is our common, a familiar normal – but to another through perception – it might be explained thru various rainbows of WTF!<\/span><\/p>\n

Day One didn\u2019t create the architecture of the trip. It revealed it.<\/span><\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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The Joy Disney Makes Possible<\/h3><\/div>\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
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For our family, Disney is a space that makes joy possible. But let\u2019s be honest \u2014 it doesn\u2019t remove the load required to reach it. The park\u2019s architecture is consistent: predictable dopamine, structured transitions, sensory density that cushions rather than overwhelms. All of it creates an expectable, reasonable, but temporary holding space for our family. Inside the Disneyland resort parks, each nervous system finds its own way of staying upright.<\/span><\/p>\n

My 20\u2011year\u2011old moved through those days in a quiet melancholy. Not collapsed, not disengaged \u2014 just held. A steady aloofness, a regulated stillness that let him participate without tipping. Disney gave him enough structure to keep the internal ocean calm, even though the residue of Day One still lived underneath.<\/span><\/p>\n

My 8\u2011year\u2011old regulated through the environment itself. Lines made sense. Schedules made sense. The dopamine made sense. She wasn\u2019t free of load \u2014 she was buffered by the predictability. The park gave her a scaffolding she could lean on without feeling trapped by demand. Even when a ride overwhelmed her, she tugged on me and signaled the mismatch. The Disney team responded instantly when I explained she\u2019s ASD:<\/span><\/p>\n

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\u201cYou take care of your daughter \u2014 this is more normal than you might think, sir. We gotchu.\u201d<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

She felt the security of being met exactly where she is. She\u2019s only eight \u2014 and I know plenty of adults who still can\u2019t navigate life yet either.<\/span><\/p>\n

My wife carried the emotional labor of each kiddo\u2019s nervous system. She adjusted constantly: softening demands, managing transitions, scanning sensory load, buffering spikes, protecting the field. Each adjustment cost energy. Each moment required attunement. She held the center. She and I doing complementary things the best we could \u2014 in our own ways, but together.<\/span><\/p>\n

And layered over all of it was the disciplined expectation:<\/span><\/p>\n

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We are at Disney \u2014 enjoy the experience, build memories.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

That boundary closes fast when the field is thin. The first two hours of our first park day were a frenetic attempt at equanimity, trying to satisfy everyone at once, but the effort was nowhere free of friction. The load was already accumulating beneath the surface.<\/span><\/p>\n

Yes, expending energy in our own ways \u2014 complementary, but autonomous. We needed a slight recalibration – and we took it!\u00a0 All the while, we were capturing the small pockets of joy and freedom this place reliably gives our kids. <\/span><\/p>\n

And for me, Disney has become its own kind of rest\u2011field. I went constantly as a kid, enough to be over it. It wasn\u2019t even a consideration until five trips ago, when my wife finally got me to take our four kids. Once we were inside the park, everything changed. There\u2019s a direct access to joy there \u2014 the kind that lets me sit in the moment and forget every other load I\u2019m carrying. I leave everything that isn\u2019t Disney at the hotel check\u2011in lobby and don\u2019t pick it back up until check\u2011out.<\/span><\/p>\n

I observe plenty of people haul their stress into the Disneyland parks. Some can\u2019t detach from it. I can, and I do, and I\u2019ll keep doing it. I see others do it and it’s a model I prefer! People call it magic; I call it rest and joy you don\u2019t have to fight for. Yes, it\u2019s chaotic getting there and chaotic driving away with the memories. The only other place I find this kind of clarity is in Ironman triathlons \u2014 but at Disney, I\u2019m not alone in deep, reasonable self\u2011scrutiny. I still haven\u2019t figured out discipline or time management in the parks, but it doesn\u2019t matter. I pick that load back up at check\u2011out.<\/span><\/p>\n

Even in a space like Disney, load accumulates.<\/span><\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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The Return of Load<\/h3><\/div>\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
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Leaving the park didn\u2019t dissolve anything. The joy stayed, but the load came with us \u2014 not as failure, not as regression, but as the natural cost of nervous systems that had been upright for hours inside a structured field. The moment we stepped outside the gates, the scaffolding loosened. Predictability thinned. Transitions sharpened. Everyone\u2019s internal ocean shifted.<\/span><\/p>\n

My 20\u2011year\u2011old went quiet again, but this time the quiet had weight. Not melancholy \u2014 more like the after\u2011tremor of holding it together. My 8\u2011year\u2011old\u2019s signals got quicker, sharper, more direct. My wife\u2019s attunement tightened. And I felt the familiar shift: the rest\u2011field closing, the real world resuming its demands.<\/span><\/p>\n

Disney makes joy possible. But the return trip always reminds me: joy is not the same as ease.<\/span><\/p>\n

The load doesn\u2019t disappear. It redistributes.<\/span><\/p>\n

And that redistribution is where the real work begins \u2014 the work of carrying each other back into the unstructured world, where dopamine isn\u2019t predictable, transitions aren\u2019t softened, and sensory density isn\u2019t curated for us.<\/span><\/p>\n

Even the best holding fields have edges. And eventually, you reach them.<\/span><\/p>\n

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Final Morning - Downtown Disney and trip to the Beach<\/h3><\/div>\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
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The morning before Huntington carried the memory of everything that had already happened. The residue of Day One wasn\u2019t loud, but it was present \u2014 a quiet pressure in the our family’s operating space, a narrowing of capacity, a subtle bracing across all nervous systems. Yes, Disney is disney and accumulated load still appears! And by the final morning, the accumulation had shape.<\/span><\/p>\n

My 20\u2011year\u2011old was steady, but the melancholy from earlier days hadn\u2019t fully lifted. His nervous system stayed in a careful freeze He actively chose to stay at the hotel – this may not seem important but it’s growth in his way that he can control and assert. This choice signals a system bracing for the next transition. And the next transition was already coming.<\/span><\/p>\n

My 8\u2011year\u2011old woke up with the kind of anticipatory tension that shows up before she can name it. Not anxiety \u2014 pressure. The kind that comes from knowing the environment is about to change. She had been held by the predictability of the parks, and now the scaffolding was about to shift. Her system felt it before any of us said a word.<\/span><\/p>\n

My wife and I were carrying the accumulated emotional labor of the previous days. She had been managing two PDA profiles, two sensory systems, two sets of transitions, and the invisible load of keeping the field coherent. And that’s only 2 of the 4 ADHD and ASD kiddos.\u00a0 I had been carrying the perimeter \u2014 scanning, stabilizing, adjusting, absorbing. Neither of us was dysregulated, but both of us were depleted.<\/span><\/p>\n

The morning wasn\u2019t dramatic. It was architectural. A quiet convergence of load, fatigue, anticipation, and the subtle friction that comes from preparing to leave the Disney parks and re\u2011enter the real world. Even before we stepped into the car, the day had already begun shaping itself.<\/span><\/p>\n

The field was thin again.<\/span><\/p>\n

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Drive to Huntington<\/h3><\/div>\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
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The drive tightened the field immediately. The residue of the wildland fires along I\u201115 was still in our systems \u2014 smoke, strain, and the accumulated load of travel. My 8\u2011year\u2011old was already struggling; we got turned around, and the Fourth of July build\u2011up had transformed our usual parking lot into ferris wheels, barricades, and temporary structures. The sudden shift from familiar to chaotic hit her fast. Each \u201cwhat is happening?\u201d<\/em> stacked on top of the morning\u2019s anticipatory pressure.<\/span><\/p>\n

My wife and I have different execution tendencies, and with both of us already drained, the friction surfaced quickly. The combination of adapting on the fly, the unexpected parking lot, the altered environment, and the kids\u2019 rising questions pushed the moment past reasonable calm at ludicrous speed. The car amplified everything: reduced space, reduced options, reduced regulation.<\/span><\/p>\n

My 20\u2011year\u2011old ‘s decision to remain at the hotel was an apt choice that helped him miss the next chaos and also removed a variable of intensity!\u00a0 The internal load was rising, but the signals stayed subtle.\u00a0 Bonus, was the one less variable to navigate when the eruption came forward.<\/span><\/p>\n

My wife carried the emotional labor of the moment \u2014 scanning, adjusting, buffering, protecting the field. I carried the perimeter \u2014 stabilizing, absorbing, narrowing my attention to keep the drive coherent. The car became a pressure chamber, not metaphorically but architecturally: multiple nervous systems, limited space, rising demand, and no immediate exit.<\/span><\/p>\n

My sternum tightened. My breath shortened. My attention narrowed. Not from panic \u2014 from activation. The field had shifted from being held to being carried, and the drive made the thinness visible before we even arrived at the beach.<\/span><\/p>\n

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The curb - Beach Threshold<\/h3><\/div>\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
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The curb was the breaking point. The overload that had been building in the car spilled out the moment we parked. My 8\u2011year\u2011old hit the threshold fast \u2014 the sudden shift from our usual parking lot to ferris wheels, barricades, and Fourth of July infrastructure collapsed her sense of orientation. The \u201cwhat is happening?\u201d<\/em> questions stacked too quickly to regulate.<\/span><\/p>\n

My wife and I were already drained, and our different execution tendencies surfaced immediately. The friction wasn\u2019t dramatic; it was structural \u2014 two adults trying to navigate a rapidly shifting environment with a child already past her capacity. The field thinned in seconds.<\/span><\/p>\n

And then the outside world entered the moment. A Huntington Beach resident, who had already been scanning our unfolding scene at the curb, repositioned herself on the mixed\u2011use path and quietly lifted her phone, preparing to record. My hyper\u2011awareness caught her instantly \u2014 that instinctive scan so many ASD\/PDA parents develop when co\u2011regulating in public. From her vantage point, it looked like \u201ca situation.\u201d She saw dysregulation. She didn\u2019t see the architecture. She didn\u2019t see the co\u2011regulation. She didn\u2019t see the PDA physics or the careful calibration happening between two parents and one child. She didn\u2019t have the context, nuance, or perspective to interpret what she was seeing, and her intervention could have caused harm rather than help.<\/span><\/p>\n

I stepped into perimeter stance \u2014 alerting my wife, shielding my daughter\u2019s field, managing the environment, ensuring that a stranger\u2019s misunderstanding didn\u2019t become another layer of load. The moment wasn\u2019t dangerous. It wasn\u2019t dramatic. It was dysregulation \u2014 the kind that requires quiet, not attention; space, not spectators; attunement, not intervention. Eventually she lowered her phone. As far as I know, there is no digital imprint \u2014 no video, no post, no artifact. Just a moment that looked chaotic from the outside and was, in reality, a precise act of family regulation.<\/span><\/p>\n

That moment clarified something I no longer negotiate: I don\u2019t spend energy worrying about how things appear from the outside\u2011in. My job is to keep our kids regulated, our family secure, and our boundaries intact. Even well\u2011meaning onlookers can unintentionally disrupt that safety when their understanding is shallow.<\/span><\/p>\n

The spillover hit the curb, and I shifted fully into activation \u2014 not intensity, but stance. Alerting my wife. Stabilizing my daughter. Managing the environment. The moment wasn\u2019t chaotic because of behavior; it was chaotic because the load finally revealed itself. The beach hadn\u2019t even begun. The threshold had.<\/span><\/p>\n

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Huntington Beach - The Ocean<\/h3><\/div>\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
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The moment on the sand was immediate. The overload that had spilled onto the curb didn\u2019t dissipate; it carried straight into the beach – on my back as I carried her gleefully ignoring the onlooker and being loud enough for her to realize her capture moment had been foiled – not that I cared but we didn’t need her perception and exposition to harm our family!\u00a0 <\/span><\/p>\n

My 8\u2011year\u2011old\u2019s system was already past capacity \u2014 the accumulated adaptations and the morning\u2019s anticipatory demand – eruption imminent. Her nervous system hit the sand still in motion, still searching for orientation, still unable to find a foothold.<\/span><\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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The release didn\u2019t come from calm. It came from rupture. The dysregulation passed, the field widened, and in that opening, something in my wife snapped free. Not in anger \u2014 in release. The kind that arrives after too much load, too much vigilance, too much emotional labor held for too long.<\/span><\/p>\n

Our 6\u2011year\u2011old, and it was something I missed at first, ventured into the ocean. He had watched each of us find connection in the water, and he followed that pattern with the trust only a child carries. A wave caught him \u2014 quick, disorienting, the kind of maytag knock\u2011over I\u2019ve told stories about from my own childhood. One moment upright, the next moment down.<\/span><\/p>\n

My wife didn\u2019t hesitate. She was already carrying the weight of the morning, the drive, the curb spillover, and the emotional labor of multiple nervous systems – suppressing and mitigating her own. But when he went under, something in her snapped open. Clothes off down to her bikini underpants bottom, straight into the water. No pause. No calculation. Just instinct, clarity, and a release she had never allowed herself. Waist\u2011deep in the ocean, she finally found a place to put the load she had been carrying.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

While she was in the water, another moment unfolded behind us \u2014 one that\u2019s almost too familiar in our family\u2019s life. A flock of gulls descended on our beignets, taking advantage of our absence. A local woman stepped in without hesitation, shooing the birds away and saving what she could. When I went to thank her and her group, she said, \u201cDon\u2019t worry. I\u2019d hope others would do similar for me.\u201d As we left the beach, I circled back and told them her gesture gave me hope \u2014 hope that feels increasingly rare in our humanity. Her partner and she thanked me graciously, and that acknowledgment stayed with me. We returned to sand\u2011filled beignets and laughed \u2014 Utah\u2019s state bird had failed us.<\/span><\/p>\n

My wife stayed in the water for a moment longer, letting the ocean hold her. Our 6\u2011year\u2011old recovered quickly. The field reorganized around her release \u2014 not because she demanded it, but because she finally let herself have it. I stayed on the sand, perimeter activated, watching the moment unfold without interfering. It wasn\u2019t a crisis. It was a recalibration. A reset. A rare moment where the load didn\u2019t collapse her \u2014 it freed her. I captured the moment on my phone and just witnessed her in her moment!<\/span><\/p>\n

The beach became the first place on the trip where the field wasn\u2019t thin. It was open.<\/span><\/p>\n

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That's what Dreams are made of!<\/h3><\/div>\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
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We left the beach carrying something different than what we brought in. Not resolution \u2014 recalibration. The field had widened. The load had revealed itself. And each of us had found a way to move through it without collapsing the center.<\/span><\/p>\n

My 8\u2011year\u2011old recovered quickly, her system settling once the environment stopped shifting. My 20\u2011year\u2011old stayed steady in his quiet freeze, at the hotel absent from the chaos, conserving energy in the way his profile requires. Our 6\u2011year\u2011old shook off the wave and kept moving, unbothered in the way only children can be. My wife found a release she had needed for longer than either of us realized \u2014 a moment where the ocean held what she had been carrying. And I stayed in perimeter stance until the field no longer needed it.<\/span><\/p>\n

None of it was tidy. None of it was cinematic. It was a family moving through load, rupture, dysregulation, and release \u2014 together, but in our own ways. The kind of day that doesn\u2019t look like anything from the outside\u2011in, but from the inside\u2011out, becomes the architecture of how we stay upright.<\/span><\/p>\n

The beach didn\u2019t fix anything. It didn\u2019t need to. It gave us a place to let the load surface, reorganize, and settle. A place where rupture didn\u2019t become damage, and release didn\u2019t require apology. A place where the field finally had enough space to breathe.<\/span><\/p>\n

When we walked back to the car, the day felt different. Not lighter \u2014 clearer. The thinness that had followed us from the start of the trip wasn\u2019t gone, but it wasn\u2019t steering anymore. The field had shifted. We had shifted. And the rest of the day unfolded without the weight of what had come before.<\/span><\/p>\n

Sometimes the release isn\u2019t the moment itself. It\u2019s what becomes possible after.<\/span><\/p>\n

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As the beach helped us close another Disney adventure, a line came to mind \u2014 one that felt like it belonged to the day itself: \u201cI\u2019ll never forget the ones who came with a lamp when I was in the dark\u2026 not to fix me, not to judge me, but to sit beside me until I could see again.\u201d<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

The woman who cleared the gulls from our beignets was one of those lamp\u2011bearers. A small gesture, almost invisible in the scale of the day, but it carried weight. She didn\u2019t know our family\u2019s architecture. She didn\u2019t know the load we had been carrying. She didn\u2019t know the thinness of the field. She simply stepped in, quietly, without judgment, and offered a moment of humanity that felt rare. When I told her that her kindness gave me hope \u2014 hope that has been waning \u2014 she and her partner received it with a kind of sincerity that stayed with me.<\/span><\/p>\n

We walked off the sand with grit\u2011filled beignets, tired kids, a wife who had finally found a moment of release, and a reminder that even in thin fields, there are people who show up with lamps instead of opinions.<\/span><\/p>\n

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Plot Twist - Unanticipated family visits - Bakersfield and Sacramento<\/h3><\/div>\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
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And the day wasn\u2019t done. The next micro\u2011adventure was already unfolding. We weren\u2019t heading home yet.<\/span><\/p>\n

Bakersfield first \u2014 an unplanned but needed visit with my wife\u2019s uncle. Then Sacramento \u2014 time with my father. Unexpected stops, but necessary ones. The kind of family detours that don\u2019t fit neatly into itineraries but matter more than the destinations they interrupt.<\/span><\/p>\n

The trip didn\u2019t resolve anything. It didn\u2019t need to. It simply revealed the truth of our family\u2019s architecture: we move through the world together, each carrying what we can, each releasing what we must, and each finding small pockets of hope in the places that still make room for us.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

A family trip to Disneyland becomes a study in nervous\u2011system truth. A quiet PDA collapse on Day One shapes the emotional physics of the entire journey, culminating in a thin\u2011place moment at Huntington Beach where a mother finally breaks the surface and chooses herself. This essay explores multi\u2011system load, emotional labor, and the quiet stewardship required to hold a family through overwhelm, transition, and release.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":26643,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"nf_dc_page":"","_eb_attr":"","pagelayer_contact_templates":[],"_pagelayer_content":"","rs_blank_template":"","rs_page_bg_color":"","slide_template_v7":"","wprm-recipe-roundup-name":"","wprm-recipe-roundup-description":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[816],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-26651","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-nd-fl"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/happyinthehills.com\/zentriathlete\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/26651","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/happyinthehills.com\/zentriathlete\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/happyinthehills.com\/zentriathlete\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/happyinthehills.com\/zentriathlete\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/happyinthehills.com\/zentriathlete\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=26651"}],"version-history":[{"count":27,"href":"https:\/\/happyinthehills.com\/zentriathlete\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/26651\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":26684,"href":"https:\/\/happyinthehills.com\/zentriathlete\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/26651\/revisions\/26684"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/happyinthehills.com\/zentriathlete\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/26643"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/happyinthehills.com\/zentriathlete\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=26651"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/happyinthehills.com\/zentriathlete\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=26651"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/happyinthehills.com\/zentriathlete\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=26651"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}