Good for you! I’ve had moments like that on the trail, usually during a summit scramble, and I get “sewing machine leg” with my legs so tense they pulsate. I tell myself “calm the f*** down” and “trust your feet” but that’s easier said than done.
I admire you! It’s such a challenging sport. I’m sure you’ve talked yourself off a lot of ledges. 😜 Also I’ve never heard ‘sewing machine leg’ - perfect words for that feeling.
I loved "you're not a trail person." And I love being outdoors and trial hiking in elevation.
Only I live in Midwest Michigan where the term trail hiking takes on an entirely different meaning. It's more like a walk in the park. There are no mountains to scale, opportunities to push elevation, or rocks to scramble. I've been here 3 years and miss hiking trails every single day. I moved here from Reno/Tahoe.
Summers I ride my bike, swim in a lap pool, and walk in the park. Winters I sometimes cross-country ski the flatlands or snowshoe across meadow.s
Thank you for writing this piece. I needed it today on this beautiful Sunday morning as I see the blacktop from my kitchen window, instead of majestic rise of Mt. Rose off in the distance.
Thank you Patti! Glad I could bring a little ‘elevation’ your way. 🤗 Love hearing how you are creating some different sort of adventures for yourself in your new surroundings. Enjoy your Sunday!
Wow!! So true and inspiring!! I’m realizing how this even applies to retirement. It is sooooo hard to let go…what if? What if? what if? What if? Where’s the next step? Should I go back? Is going backwards even an option? What’s really ahead? Yada yada yada. Thanks for a great reminder of that extra push we can give ourselves.🥹
Well Miss Karen you did it again!!! It reminded me that almost every day I have to push myself for one reason or another. I finally finished putting together a 9 piece outdoor furniture set (yes, it took me 3 days off and on) and it was truly difficult!! I feel proud I pushed myself to follow through!!
I was on a similar ledge in Moab at The Arches. This was after a heavy rain and below was water and rocks. I was told we were going for a walk through the park, so I was just wearing gym shoes (our guide didn't correct my footwear choice), muddy-soled from walking through puddles when I was told the way we were going over. Displeased did not begin to describe my reaction. (We were on an all ladies trip and I was the youngest at 36.) I got to the point where you were: No strength, questionable hand grip, afraid my feet would slip if I put any additional weight on them. I called out to our guide, "Mike! I'm going down!" He billy-goated his way over the others in front of me (not a svelt man, BTW), and put his foot under mind. "Stand up," he said. "I can't!" (I was basically in a goalie squat, arms and legs wide.) He sighed. "Yes, you can." I did. And made my way over to safety, easy peasy. I had no doubt, right before that, that I was dead (that water was murky and those rocks were plentiful). The next day, we biked the Hurrah Pass. That was another challenge we all (barely) survived. LOL. Moab has a way of testing you. (We also didn't buy enough wine to get us through that weekend.) But it provides beautiful lessons. Thanks for the push, Karen. Glad you survived, too! xo
Good for you! I’ve had moments like that on the trail, usually during a summit scramble, and I get “sewing machine leg” with my legs so tense they pulsate. I tell myself “calm the f*** down” and “trust your feet” but that’s easier said than done.
I admire you! It’s such a challenging sport. I’m sure you’ve talked yourself off a lot of ledges. 😜 Also I’ve never heard ‘sewing machine leg’ - perfect words for that feeling.
I loved "you're not a trail person." And I love being outdoors and trial hiking in elevation.
Only I live in Midwest Michigan where the term trail hiking takes on an entirely different meaning. It's more like a walk in the park. There are no mountains to scale, opportunities to push elevation, or rocks to scramble. I've been here 3 years and miss hiking trails every single day. I moved here from Reno/Tahoe.
Summers I ride my bike, swim in a lap pool, and walk in the park. Winters I sometimes cross-country ski the flatlands or snowshoe across meadow.s
Thank you for writing this piece. I needed it today on this beautiful Sunday morning as I see the blacktop from my kitchen window, instead of majestic rise of Mt. Rose off in the distance.
Thank you Patti! Glad I could bring a little ‘elevation’ your way. 🤗 Love hearing how you are creating some different sort of adventures for yourself in your new surroundings. Enjoy your Sunday!
Wow!! So true and inspiring!! I’m realizing how this even applies to retirement. It is sooooo hard to let go…what if? What if? what if? What if? Where’s the next step? Should I go back? Is going backwards even an option? What’s really ahead? Yada yada yada. Thanks for a great reminder of that extra push we can give ourselves.🥹
Well Miss Karen you did it again!!! It reminded me that almost every day I have to push myself for one reason or another. I finally finished putting together a 9 piece outdoor furniture set (yes, it took me 3 days off and on) and it was truly difficult!! I feel proud I pushed myself to follow through!!
Nice work!!
I was on a similar ledge in Moab at The Arches. This was after a heavy rain and below was water and rocks. I was told we were going for a walk through the park, so I was just wearing gym shoes (our guide didn't correct my footwear choice), muddy-soled from walking through puddles when I was told the way we were going over. Displeased did not begin to describe my reaction. (We were on an all ladies trip and I was the youngest at 36.) I got to the point where you were: No strength, questionable hand grip, afraid my feet would slip if I put any additional weight on them. I called out to our guide, "Mike! I'm going down!" He billy-goated his way over the others in front of me (not a svelt man, BTW), and put his foot under mind. "Stand up," he said. "I can't!" (I was basically in a goalie squat, arms and legs wide.) He sighed. "Yes, you can." I did. And made my way over to safety, easy peasy. I had no doubt, right before that, that I was dead (that water was murky and those rocks were plentiful). The next day, we biked the Hurrah Pass. That was another challenge we all (barely) survived. LOL. Moab has a way of testing you. (We also didn't buy enough wine to get us through that weekend.) But it provides beautiful lessons. Thanks for the push, Karen. Glad you survived, too! xo
Love this story! I can picture every detail! 😜 Thanks for sharing! Glad we both lived to tell the tales! 🤣
Amen, sister! LOL. xo