Afternoon light dances and drifts as a warm breeze teases Ponderosa pine boughs. My backside
nestles comfortably into the sofa, warm laptop on my thighs. My feet are propped on my coffee
table. My backyard obsession, Longs Peak, is the cause of this glorious quagmire. I had just
spent four back-to-back days training around the many aspects of this 4,346m playground.
Running trailhead to summit, dangling on a rope to suss out the moves of its harder, vertical
face climbing routes, and joyously scampering its ridges and peaks. Red face, content heart.
Training for what, you might ask. Sitting, I would exclaim with a laugh.
The most efficient way for me to access a quiet mental space, gain focus on non-moving tasks like computer work or reading a book, is to twirl about physically until I have reached full-body fatigue. As the sofa warms and my legs find rest on this particular evening, I find myself sipping on wine planning the upcoming year’s slew of expeditions. Typing away, detailing new route possibilities on yellow cliffs in Madagascar, Googling images of unclimbed granite spires rising out of the freezing waters on Baffin Island, and giggling in conversation with Libby about the jungle tools we were going to need to machete our way in to
remote Chilean granite domes.
How quickly the simple things can disappear. The daydream subsides as sound and light shift my focus to real time, real places. The room is warm. I am shivering, buried beneath a down comforter. There is a wheelchair by my bedside. It has been there every day now for over a year.
My mood is learned indifference even with the persistent hum and electrical burning in the
lower half of my body. Perhaps I should feel something approaching love for this antiquated and neglected device that only just allows me to roll about a house, a paved lake, or out to dinner.
I am not there yet....
TO BE CONTINUED : I wrote this piece for a lovely little journal called Sidetracked. It contains incredible stories and beautiful photos of adventures, culture and experiences around the world. Get the current issue and you can finish reading my story!
1 comment:
You are inspirational to me as I face my new reality, a world without my son. Evan Millsap died after a fall in Denali Park. Lives change and we do the best we can to move forward one day at a time.
Much love to you as you face your challenges!
Eric
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