Thursday, August 03, 2006

Mountainside Anniversary Adventure My calendar proclaimed the impossible... that it's been a full year since my feet were severely injured. I pondered the circumstances during the few days around the anniversary of the life-changing event. I had hopped barefoot off a ladder onto cement, tore the fascia in the bottom of both feet, compressed my spine, put my back muscles into 10 days of spasm, and twisted up the fascia (connective tissue) in my entire body in the process. Not comprehending the extent of the injury, I said "ow" and put on my hiking boots for a long hike. I didn't begin learning about how to repair the damage until two months on the couch forced me to learn. A recent sweltering July day inspired Gary and me to find a cool place to go. The coolest spot, of course, is the reservoir halfway up the side of Pikes Peak. In the car, with an excited dog panting over my shoulder, the date suddenly struck me. Exactly one year before, I had hiked around that same reservoir after my injury. By the time I returned to the car, I knew I was in big trouble. Now, on the anniversary of that fateful date, I was returning to take my first decent hike in a year. It went well. I hiked slowly but normally around the far side of the reservoir. We set our things by the water's edge and inhaled peace. I built a castle out of the crumbled granite particles that serve as sand. Rocky Mountain seagull feathers decorated the red granite turrets. The wet crumbled stones massaged the soles of my feet. I held out dog cookies on my palm; Gypsy delicately plucked them off to devour. Gary and I drank mint-leaf water and ate organic nuts. I held out almonds for our gourmet dog to eat off my hand as if it were a platter. We splashed and chased one another through the shallows. One step too far almost sent me tumbling into the depths of the snowmelt lake! As the sun began to lower, we rested on the shore. I selected the perfect assortment of stones, all ovals about one inch long. I held them on my hand, so Gary and I could take turns tossing them in. The goal was to see who could throw a stone the farthest; the prize was a good kiss. Shortly into the game, Gypsy began to whine. She is not the whining type of dog, normally. She lay with her head on her paws, brow furrowed in concern. Whenever we threw another stone, she whined. Eventually we understood. The stones were exactly the same size and shape as her dog cookies and her almond snacks. I held them in my palm the same way as I fed her. She thought we were throwing her snacks into the water! Poor little tormented dog! We showed her the stones, let her sniff and lick them. After that the whining ended, but her brow remained furrowed til we stopped tossing stones. Two miles up in the air, the clouds are a whole lot closer than normal. We watched the slowly gathering clouds mingle their grays over the lake. Without warning, a thunderclap exploded just over our heads like a bomb. We could feel the electricity on our skin. All the fishing fathers and sons, all the hikers among the aspens, all the relaxers like us grabbed our gear and leapt into action. The lake was vacated in a matter of moments, as the rain began. We exchanged rueful laughter as we passed one another, soaked but smiling under the high altitude rainbow as we hurried along the trails. The rain was refreshing. Nobody died of thunder exposure. Best of all, my feet felt good the whole way back! Now I'm on a regimen of regular short hikes, to build back my strength. Revisiting my favorite hiking spots feels like a reunion of old friends. The doctors said it takes a year to heal from this type of injury, but only now do I believe them. With the company of nature and my trusty walking stick, I'm fully celebrating my ability to exericise again. Fitness, here I come. * * * * * * * * 4:42:00 PM    comment []

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