Five words. Five little words that led to an amazing and unforgettable trip that taught me more about myself in 3 days than anything I’d done before.
“I want to do that.”
In one of our many-times-daily Voxes late in the spring, Jen told Jess and me about a backpacking trip she was planning to go on with her long time friend and her daughter. Jess was first to say “I want to do that.” My wheels immediately started turning and before I could talk myself out of it, I told Jen that I wanted to try to go, too. One of the blessings of this Covid summer was way fewer sports commitments, so there was actually time for me to take a few days to do it. I ran it by Josh, booked a plane ticket, and only then did I really start thinking about what it takes to backpack in Colorado for 3 days.
My mind went back to something that had happened a few years ago. Something that had stuck with me, that I know my kids remember, too (because they still bring it up!) About three years ago, I took my kids to Colorado for a fun weekend with the cousins. One of the things they really wanted to do was go hiking. So up to Boulder we went to a hiking trail that Jen had done before and knew ended with an amazing view. It was a beautiful day and everyone was so excited. We were barely out of the car before the boys took off.
I love experiencing things with my kids and making memories. That desire has gotten me to snorkel, cliff jump, zip line and more. I don’t want to hear about their adventures, I want to be part of it. And of course that was my intention that day in Boulder.
About 45 minutes into the hike, which was strenuous but not at all impossible, I realized I wasn’t going to make it to the top. I had let myself get out of shape and physically, I just couldn’t do it. I had all sorts of excuses… being in the middle of a divorce, the altitude, age, etc. So I stepped to the side and sat on a rock while everyone else kept going. More families came by and people who “looked” a lot less in shape than me continued the climb. I sat there by myself for another 45 minutes to an hour before the kids and Jen came barreling down, high on mountain air and the exhilaration of the amazing view they’d seen from the top. The high and the view that I had missed. I was embarrassed and mad at myself.
Now here I was facing a trip much more difficult than that couple hour day-hike. What was different this time was that I have been taking care of my body. Over the course of the last couple of years, I’ve gotten into an exercise routine again. I met Josh and his super active lifestyle rubbed off on me. Along with my daughter Grace, I was fueling my body with healthy foods. I knew I was strong, I knew that now, at the age of 45, I was more equipped for a trip like this than I’d ever been.
But, I can’t say I wasn’t nervous about the physical toll of the backpacking, specifically carrying the heavy pack as we hiked. I definitely questioned whether I could do it. I didn’t want to be the one that dragged the pace or made us take breaks when everyone else was fine to keep going. But I also knew I was in the best shape of my life and that if I was ever going to do something like this, it should be now.
The previous six months, specifically, had been transformational for my body. (It started in a vain place, not liking how I looked in my wedding dress). Then Covid happened and we were forced to entertain our brood in new ways, so we went on endless hikes, bought new bikes, took walks daily, (that’s another whole blog post) and I even started running more consistently. Seeing the number on the scale go down as I got in better shape was nice. Seeing muscles emerge that I hadn’t seen in a long time was fun and motivating. But there has to be more to it than just liking the reflection in the mirror better.
When the backpacking trip finally came, I felt ready. It’s hard to describe what it felt like carrying that heavy pack, leading the group, not lagging behind, feeling the burn in my thigh muscles but knowing they could carry me. Feeling strong and capable. Oh how I wished my kids were there to see it and experience it with me.
We hiked for three days and camped two nights. There were blisters and bruised hip bones and mosquito bites. There was also mountain-air highs, endless conversation, peace and quiet, and serenity. It was such a fun reminder for Jen and me about how in sync we can be, how much we can accomplish in tandem with very few words. It was a gift to be able to experience it with Jennifer and her (and now my) dear friends. And I’m so thankful for a strong body that carried me on this adventure.
It’s not about the number on the scale or the flat stomach. I realized it’s about being strong, about taking care of my body so it can take care of me. So I don’t have to miss out on experiences with those I love, or say no to things because I don’t think I can physically do it.
I know I’ll never forget what it felt like to sit on that rock to the side of the trail as the rest of the family continued on with the hike on that memorable day in Boulder. But I also won’t ever forget what it was like to conquer the Colorado Trail!
