Several months ago I
managed a feat that had not managed since before my illness. I managed to
ride my mountain bike up to the Brown Mountain saddle above JPL without
stopping. I'm still ridiculously slow to be sure, but this was
an accomplishment of monumental significance for me. As well,
to be sure, for anyone who rides with any frequency, this is not really that
big of deal. For me however doing this ride, without stopping represent
some momentous, to me it represented recovery. For all that
went through, the coma, the strokes, the pneumonia, I'd come back.
Perhaps I’m not entirely what I used to be, but this is a level of
fitness, a level of normalcy that I'd at times not thought possible.
Sadly I was alone with no one to share this moment, but there are certain
times in your life when guess you aren't supposed to have anybody, you know?
There are certain doors you have to go through alone.
As I have gone through
this struggle to reach this point, I have watched my friends go on adventures
and reach goal that to a small degree could not imagine. I have seen
them reach beautiful adventurous goals. Watching this has
always been a little bittersweet for me, because, at the risk of sounding a
little petty, I was jealous. Jealous that they were going on the
adventures I wanted to do, that once, I did thing equal or greater. Upon
reaching the Brown Mountain, I realized that many of these goals were still
there, were reachable once again. I could once again reach high peaks and
descend mountains at fantastic speed; the adventures of younger days were not
so far away. So I've become more active striving to regain even a little
of that.
Unfortunately, I've run
into great resistance. Not from other people, but from within myself.
Even as I am inspired by watching others go on their adventures I've
found a great wall keeping me back in the form of my own motivation. I've
struggled to explain it to myself just as I'm sure others would struggle to
understand it. Recently, though, I had a small revelation that may help
explain this struggle, this dilemma. A friend was describing to me her
recent solo trip to Guatemala and Belize and she mentioned how much she enjoyed
the challenge both physical of the various hikes and other activities she did,
as well as the emotional challenges of travelling solo in a foreign country.
Almost immediately as she described this, realized that I don't enjoy
those things anymore. I'm tired, mentally and emotionally
exhausted from the past 4 years of devastating health problem, job loss and
break-ups, and loss of long and short term friends. My well of strength
for being to deal with psychological and emotional challenges is dry
and for now I don't know how refill it. Is it time for new dreams and
different kinds of adventures? - I'm not convinced. I still long to climb peaks in impossible ways and ride my bike to place of immense beauty. My mind has wandered
to outlandish dreams that I can't seem to pursue with any real honesty or
passion, thru-hiking the Pacific Crest Trail, pursuing a job in New Zealand, among others. It is a source of sadness for me, as see the years of my life
slowly passing by and these adventures and dreams fading. I guess all
can do for now is keep doing what can, what I can motivate myself
do, keep trying to find dreams and adventures that inspire and motivate me, and
hoping and searching for a way to refill the well.
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