Learning? Bring It On! | July 8 2022

July 8, 2022

Vacation Adventures: Hiking

We are on the Olympic Peninsula in Washington, having a hiking/bicycling 4th of July vacation. I am grateful I can do both, and that I have thought of the breathing challenges as issues of fitness rather than You Know What. Here is some eye candy for your viewing pleasure, all obtained via good ole’ American sweat, with periodic cursing for spice.

One hike brought us to the front yard of a new friend.

We followed all the directions for what to do if you see a bear: make yourself look as big as possible, bang pots and pans — oops, forgot to bring those– make noise. There we were, whooping it up, and I swear that bear just mocked us. (You can see its scornful grin if you look closely.) Eventually it trundled across the trail, into the woods. It was meeting up with a second bear, but they wanted as much to do with us as we did with them.

Bicycling

Day 1, titled, “Too damned cold to ride” in my ride tracking app, was 20.44 miles long with an elevation gain of 977 feet. Lesson learned relearned: If it’s less than 65 degrees, why are you riding without a mask to help warm the air you’re inhaling? I mean, really. Sometimes I amaze myself, and not in a good way.

Biggest accomplishment anyway: riding up a very long hill without stopping. Not done beautifully, mind you, but done is all that matters right now. Also, meeting the You can’t chorus head on and bawling my eyes out on the side of an untraveled road. My Dear Husband circled back to find me and instead, witnessed a soggy mess on my bicycle. I am still me, post-cancer, but my lungs are different now– and what will happen if I truly can’t do this bicycling thing?

DH says it’s simply that I have to ride more hills, do them until even the hardest ones are just part of a ride, no big deal. I guess, but lemme tell you, this really sucks.

Day 2, titled simply “OMG”, was 31.73 miles. It was supposed to be a lovely coastal ride on the Pacific Discovery Trail, from Port Angeles to Sequim. We both thought it’d be long, but that the terrain would be no big deal. Little did we know: OMG.

Here are three things I learned. One, if you stop in the middle of a long, steep hill, the pitch of the terrain makes it pretty hard to start again. Two, baggy pants can get caught on your saddle as you start to pedal, then, BOOM, there you are, one foot clipped into the pedal, and you and the bike as one, falling over. I focused on not hitting my head and landed in some grass, laughing my head off.

As I got up to try again, there was an eagle, circling overhead. I paused and watched it for a little while.

The third thing I learned is really nuts. Instead of approaching a hill and saying, “OH, <EXPLETIVE DELETED>!” I started saying, “F$&* yes, BRING ME THE HILL!” Because no matter what, I had to get over each damn hill to make it home, and if I had to walk, so be it. (That walking-up-a-hill thing is also known as cross-training. Haha)

We got into Port Angeles. I turned to DH and said, “I’m done. Will you get the car and bring me home?” Because that was the truth. And if I am going to get through this period of struggle, it’s not going to be by pretending I’m stronger than I really am.

Please remind me of this should I become sick again.

DH says I am persistent and he’s glad for that.

Notes from Friends

Along those lines, I’ve heard from a number of you in private messages, congratulating me and rooting me on. Thank you!

In a recent message, a friend writes, “You are an inspiration to work through fear to accomplish a goal. It is too easy to say: I am tired or it’s too cold or wet, to avoid walking exercise (which is my bicycle).” Now, I’m nobody’s superhero– far from it. But to hear that my description of grinding up a hill spoke to someone else’s deep work, well, that means everything to me.

I hope that the (often absurd) experiences I write about invite you into seeking parallels in your own experiences, whether you ride a bicycle or not. Many years of working with 17 year-olds taught me that everybody has self-imposed limits; everybody is a little afraid. (If you don’t or aren’t, please tell me the secret of your success. Except not drugs– I’m already independently supporting the pharmaceutical industry.)

Here’s a little poem that floated across my Instagram and buoyed me up.

Other news

There’s some really exciting news on the next generation of targeted therapies that’s got lung cancer people shouting “HOPE!” More on that another time.

Meanwhile, here’s the most recent cake, done for an agency that works with youth who have aged out of the foster care system. I wanted to do the lettering in fondant, but I threw out the yet-again-awful batch I tried and resorted to crappy handwriting.

Thanks for reading. Here’s hoping you coast over any hills you encounter, and that wild creatures in your life come bearing cake.