Fourteen years ago, when I first started contemplating my life without my husband in it, I wasn't in any shape emotionally, to leave. I hadn't the strength nor the endurance for such an undertaking. As time passed, I found myself putting pictures of myself on the fridge, younger, thinner versions of me. Wanting to be more fit, I began working out. I began a regime of getting strong.
Over the years, I went on countless diets and exercise programs trying to stay in shape...get thinner. I lost weight, I gained weight. I could never stick to an extreme diet, but I gradually learned good eating habits. I wanted to be in shape more than I hated being overweight. I made changes, but it took time. Countless times over the years, I threatened to leave my husband. He never thought I would leave. He assumed I would always need saving. I didn't know how to save myself, but I wanted to figure out how. Six months ago, I saved myself.
A few days ago, I had one of "those days". After being on a virtual "happy high" since New Years Eve, things sort of fell apart at the seams again. Nothing as bad as the holiday season, but bad enough to wake up with bags under my eyes and an unsettled sadness that swept over me.
I had conversation with my ex that was sad and hurtful to both of us. I continue to hold on to the hope, that eventually, we can have something that resembles respect, and hopefully friendship for the sake of our kids. I have all but given up that hope after that day. My friend, who is staying with me, asked, "Why? Why does it matter if he likes you at the end of the day?" I couldn't answer her. I don't know why. It just has mattered and I don't know why. If I got really introspective, I could probably conjure up something to explain it, but the truth is, I know why in my head, but it won't come out in words. Not in black and white and not when I try to explain it.
I wanted to try to let it go. I want him to be able to move forward in much the same way I want to move forward. We can't keep drudging up the reasons for why our marriage ended and expect to move forward. It is too painful for both of us. After spending a sleepless, and teary night last night and a good portion of the morning down in the dumps, I decided I was going to work it out, do something extreme and physical. Nothing like numbing your mind and concentrating on the moment.
I started climbing Camelback a year ago. It was the most extreme workout I've ever done, short of an Olympic sprint triathalon I did a few years ago. I love that mountain. I hate that mountain. The mountain was calling my name that day. I wanted to enjoy the exhilaration of being outside...in January. So, I drove to my favorite hiking trail and climbed that mountain. It's a little like a switchback trail. It goes up vertically several times, but after a long vertical, seems that there is always a resting place before you tackle the next section.
As I approached the trailhead, I tune up my ipod and start walking. Not slow, but an even pace. Every step is an intentional step. You have to pay attention. You don't look ahead...you look down and watch for loose gravel. I've gone up this mountain at least 25 times, maybe more. It never gets easier. I always try to beat my time by a minute or two.
Some days the climb is better, sometimes not. The other day, it was perfect. Every single, uphill section of that climb is challenging. Deliberate. I cannot start that climb and halfway up, decide I'm not going to finish it. I go for it. Quitting is not an option. I hadn't climbed that mountain for 6 months, but never once did I think I couldn't make it. I've never gone through a divorce, but once I made the decision to leave, I was leaving. I left. I knew I could make it now, I was stronger, in better shape than before and giving up was not an option. the marriage was irreparable. Divorce was the only way to the top of my mountain. Either that or murder.
With every step, I have to look down. I can't climb and look around, the path is too treacherous and I value my teeth too much to fall. It's a hard climb. Divorce is a hard climb. Some days are better than others. Some days are too much for me. Even when I know I want to climb the mountain, I just can't. I'm not feeling it. That day was good. I started up the trail and felt the earth solid beneath my shoes.
The hike starts out with a little jaunt down some steps before it turns into a vertical climb. As you make your way down the steps, you look ahead and see that it gets vertical very fast. I'm always out of breath before I reach the top of that short section that evens out, before the next big uphill. There are a lot of people that climb this mountain, so you dodge around them or move over for someone else to pass you continually throughout the climb.
As I continued to climb, I had my earphones on and was listening to some great music. Some of the music made me feel sad. Other songs, made me feel happy, and some peaceful. For some reason, that day, most of the music made me feel victorious. With every flat path, I looked around and felt the presence of something greater. I noticed the beauty in the giant cacti and the rock formations. I paid attention to the view. I started to forget about the conversation I had that morning and the night before.
As I near the the first of five, rocky, vertical trails, I look up and take a moment to assess the best path. I watch which way people are coming down as well as which way they are heading up. You may think that all roads lead to Rome, but sometimes, not every path is the easiest. It might seem faster, but as you approach the next rock, you realize you have to step up farther or the rock is too steep, or not deep enough to get a foothold. Sometimes, I have to back track slightly and choose a different route to get to the same place. Some of my friends have climbed this mountain. They are familiar with the rocks and which way is the best path. I climb alone usually, so I am learning the trail myself. When I do climb with someone who is more familiar, I let them lead. But, I don't always follow because I am stubborn that way.
The more I climb this mountain, the rocks become more familiar. I recognize that I have stepped there before and it's safe to do so again. I remember the path even when it becomes confusing for a moment. I continue upward. The first few months of this divorce were the worst months of all. I would like to fly up this mountain and get to the candy center, but then I would never see the beauty along the path or feel the burn of the workout. As I scramble my way up the rocks, sometimes I teeter and almost lose my balance..."whoa...I think, that was a close one". I recover and continue on. As I approach the top, there are markers along the trail that tell you how far you've gone. I love it when I see the 3/4 mile marker. That last quarter mile is a killer. My legs are shaky, my mouth is dry from exertion. I remember the first time I did the hike, I asked someone about halfway up, how much further to the top..."Oh, you have a long way to go still..." Sigh...
The last stretch is trickier. The rocks are more slab-like and harder to figure out the safest, surest route to the top. There is more gravel on the trail. It's important to step on clean rocks. The gravel makes you slip. Easy to get hurt. I pay close attention to my feet and the ground. You can't look around. You will have plenty of time to marvel at the view when you get to the top.
At this point in my hike, I stand at the bottom of this last portion of trail and tell myself every time..."No breaks till you reach the top...you can do it...this time." I have not been able to do that damn stretch one time without a break. And it's usually...20 steps to the top, my legs are fucking rubber and I have to stop. Every single time. It pisses me off. But, I listen to my body, I have no death wish and it's kinda critical at this point, so I lean into the side of a rock, out of breath, and wait for my legs to feel stable again.
Finally, I reach the peak. It is breathtaking. It is a panoramic view of the entire Valley. Surrounded by other peaks. The city is all around me, and I am at the top. I can pick out the main roads I travel. I can see the downtown where I live. I can see where I've come from. I can see where I am.
I take at least 20 minutes to sit on the rocks and drink some water, catching my breath and getting my shaky legs under control again. I keep my music on but can feel my heart thumping in my chest. I am tired, but I made it to the top. I am the kind of woman that wants to put my arms in the air, feel the wind whip my hair and lift my face toward the sky and scream "I did it!" I always take a moment to thank God that I am alive. That I am strong enough to climb that mountain. I feel exhilarated! But, the climb down is no picnic.
When I decide to start picking my way down the rocks to the bottom, I remind myself that it is far more dangerous going down than it is going up. I'm tired from the climb up. My legs are shaky, my body is feeling a little dehydrated from all the exertion of climbing up. The rocks are steep and it is important to pay attention to every step, on every rock. I've watched kids leap up and down these rocks like it was nothing, but I am not as young as them...I have fear. I have respect for the path I just climbed. It takes me 45 minutes to climb up and only 30 minutes to get down. Today, I slipped four times going down. I almost never slip. I am sore and a little battered from the falls. I was tired. I wasn't feeling the strength. Sometimes it's like that. I arrived back at my car and drove home. Drank more water and ate something to recover. I took my dog for a walk and came home to rest.
God willing, I will climb this mountain many times in my life. There are so many different mountains to hike and climb around here, I expect to hike a lot of them. Every mountain is not the same. I will be stronger every time I decide to hike. I don't need someone to carry me up a mountain to make it. I gain strength from every peak I reach. I just keep climbing...one rock at a time.
Very Powerful and Empowering...thanks
ReplyDelete