I love my body, but sometimes I hate it.
Fifteen minutes into a solo hike, not a big hike, just something to get me out, to test the waters of my body’s mystery illness. It’s not helping that there are sustained 30 miles an hour winds blowing snow sideways across the ridgeline.
Something is wrong; I can feel it in my muscles, bones, and lungs.
I can’t see it from the outside; so is there really anything wrong, gaslighting my health is a learned behavior. Always left to rely on others’ opinions more than my own. My body is running on half the cylinders. My Idle is off; I struggle up the hill, I can’t get enough oxygen. You are just being weak, knock that shit off and push past, nothing wrong with the outside.
Like diagnosing a car by its looks. There are no obvious dents, nothing can possibly be wrong.
I move slowly, trying to keep steady ground against the icy pellets blown like needles at my face. Assessing my body; is this in my head, or am I not feeling well. I have learned not to trust each system entirely, and I’m trying to learn a better way to self-assess.
Having techniques to focus and push my mind through body complaints is good and bad, as some complaints are made up, and others are not. Funny you think it would be easy to distinguish, it’s not. I start the most straightforward practice for focus I know. One, two, three, four, counting each step slowly. I see how many times I can count to 100 without needing to stop for a breath.
I usually don’t need to stop, and this is a technique I add when I’m pushing hard or fighting my ADD; look squirrel, wait, why did I stop, shiny things..
It is a way to focus.
On this ridge, I push through dizzy spells, hot flashes, and the need to puke; I remind myself this is not morning sickness; I’m on my fucking period. 47, 48, 49, 50.
There is wind loading on the northeast aspects; I see it happening; you should turn around, it could be dangerous, and you feel like you will puke 95,96,97,98,99……
Maybe I had too much coffee again; too much coffee before a big day is horrible on my stomach. But no, it’s One in the afternoon. Yesterday’s group hike, the same thing happened; I felt it. I was nauseous and dizzy, 100,102, 103, 104,105, 6, 7, 8.
Frustration at my body wells up in my mind. Why the f-do you always do this to me mid-season. You were doing so great; why are you quitting on me now. Why can’t I have a normal body? Why are you so sickly. So I Berate myself on the skin track, growing the never-ending negative narrative of who I am. The well of not good enough, being exuberated by the wind trying to knock me off the track. The wind is my least favorite element; it finds the cracks of mind and blows it out of proportion, like gas on a fire to negative self chatter.
It’s howling to me, “Get off this mountain.” Though I know, it has no agenda other than warning me about the North East aspects.
I hate this feeling, not good enough, these thoughts that take away from the other perspectives, which remind me that what I am doing is not normal. Solo hike with no cell reception in a light gale while feeling like I’m about to puke, Not to mention the large bump showing up on my foot that is causing excruciating pain; I ignored that a few hundred feet below. 42,43,44,45,46, but I need to see what the hell is causing the foot pain.
Slowly slowly, I might be slow, but I’m not going to fucking quit.
Meditation has helped me to separate myself from the ongoing in my head. I get to watch the melodrama unfold about my body’s rejection of the experience and remember I am in complete control of all of this. 72,73,74,75.
I start burping randomly, my stomach releasing gas from whatever was causing its upset. So this is not in my head; there was something wrong. The internal drama subsides, I can focus 98,99,100,101,102,103, 4. Still weak from Covid relapses but not fighting my nausea hot flash fiasco, I can hunker in and push.
The wind dies down; the hike becomes easier. My body’s rejection of the experience was not wholly made up; something needs to be addressed—something on a larger scale that should not be ignored. Also, I should see what is wrong with my foot. These are the things if I ignore; they could potentially be serious. I am adjusting to a body that has always been a little sick as it gets older. I need to watch myself more, listen and assess, Learn to trust it again. I want to be more compassionate but not let myself off the hook too quickly, what a slippery line in the soup. (soup-bad visibility)
Within all of this, I remind myself that not all strength is physical and that on these days, that is not the muscles I’m growing. It’s the ones inside my mind that are getting stronger. The ones that can push past the pain, the fatigue, there is a different dig deep going on. This strength is more valuable; it crosses over into many aspects of life.
Ok, let’s see why my foot has been…. oooooooohhhhhhhhhh shit!
The Mountains Inside 