Mom Walk: So here I am

Thursday, January 12, 2012

So here I am

This is me.
Middle aged spread and all.
All dressed up for Christmas dinner with friends.

Little would you guess that those feet hurt so bad most of the time I can't wear shoes. Or that I have pancreas issues, bleeding gums, and a bad back. Rotten hips. Losing my eye sight due to slow cataracts, have about 20% hearing loss in both ears (Ah, but it was a great Alice Cooper concert!) and skin cancer issues.

I'm a normal, standard middle aged MOM. This is me without the makeup after a week with my son up at our favorite place to vacation- Yosemite Sierra's.

Yeah, I am not what you would call "in shape" unless, as the old joke goes, round is a shape.
But, That doesn't mean I can't walk.
I can put one foot in front of the other one. Some days that takes all my effort. Some days it hurts a lot at first, and other days it hurts so bad at the end of the work night that I am barefoot and limping, but I am still on the feet.
Yes, I could try bike riding. I would have to put more energy up front, and I would be playing games with the 'coasting' thing. I would hate the uphill parts, and probably pull a leg muscle.
Yes, there are a TON of things I could do differently.

But then, this wouldn't be my Vision Quest if I did, would it?

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Background, Reasons and a Promise

I don't get out enough.
Most of the world doesn't follow the things nagging them, gnawing in their bones.
For over 20 years, walking- through the Appalachians, the Great Smokey Mountains, the Great Divide, just *walking somewhere big* has been in my head.
It might have arrived while I was growing up, learning about Yosemite, and how it's biggest supporter, John Muir, walked there from my own home county of Santa Clara, Ca.
But having something inside you is one thing. Acting on it, having faith in yourself and DOING IT is another.
The years go by, the kids grow up, your body ages, and your dreams get thin like the air at certain lofty heights.
Mine certainly did. I got farther and farther away from the idea of being able to walk ANYWHERE. I have pancreas issues (can we say 2 trips to the emergency room and 3 day stays for procedures?), and foot issues (plantar something or other that makes my arches ache) and skin cancers and fading eyesight, and you name it.
And the idea of just going for a walk, alone, just one foot in front of the other, loomed.
Not biking- no pushing one's self to sweat and keep going and coasting down the backside of my life. Not with a team where every second my attention is on someone else and their idea of what the walk should be.
Like a Native American Vision Quest or an Aboriginal Walkabout, this is a solo endeavor as much as possible.
Which is what held me back. HOW could I carry all the medical, electrical, sleeping, etc. things I might need? How could I just sleep by the side of the road? What would I do to recharge the laptop, the camera, the water bottle out there for miles alone?
It became clear that I would need some support.
After all, the swimmer's in the English Channel do it alone- but they are never really alone from support. They have a guy in a boat, keeping track, providing the water to drink, rest points, but keeping to the background.
That sounded more plausible.

Yeah, the (cough cough mumbles "fifty something") mom is gonna need the foot powder and the sunscreen and the laptop charger and gallons to drink and a place in a car to sleep flat for her bad back and a place to keep the dental hygiene stuff and a thousand other things that I probably won't REALLY need by the time this gets under way, but right now I can't see a way to do this without them.

So, I thought some more. I needed a way to have that boat follow me along.
I have a great Subaru Forrester that will be fine for this little jaunt.
I also realized that I have a wonderful 18 year old that will be graduating High School May 31st.
I decided he is going to be driving *well* by then. We have time to get this right.
I have time to accept the offer of training support (walking a bit more every week) with a friend.
I have time to accept the offer of walking boots/shoes from another friend.

I think that even if I never make it out of the county, I will have tried. I won't give up on this idea, won't ignore the nagging wonder of it. I have this thing to do, this quest (Frodo, grab Dorothy's slippers and have Thelma warm up the Thunderbird!) this promise to myself that I am not done with life yet.

I have some things left I want to do, and I need to take a walk.