You learn a lot about yourself when you are out hiking in the desert in 104-degree heat, high altitude, and a 1,000-foot vertical climb.  There are many thoughts that run through your mind.  I start to review how much running I have done in the last few months to prepare for this trip, not much, and even though we are climbing and scrambling rocks as stairs, I realize I have not done many stairs lately, except the ones in our home.  It’s imperative when under challenging conditions that you identify if the thoughts you are thinking are supporting you in your goal or not.  Our bodies are following the messages they get from our minds.

Pacing ourselves

My breathing is fast, heavy, and shallow, in the beginning I go at an accelerated pace to keep up with my husband and a few of the kids who want to book up the mountain.  Different types of terrain keep me in hyper focus.  We are climbing up hot red sand, slate, rocks, giant sharp gray boulders, and trees; alongside a gentle river bed.  It is quite nearly nirvana.  Something I notice is that if I continue to speed up the mountain, first and foremost I will exhaust myself, second, I will miss where I am, this magical place…which will defeat the purpose of me being here.  I realize I must set a good pace for myself.  I want to conserve my energy for the entire journey.

Fueling our bodies

My body needs sustenance.  I stop periodically for water and fruit, an emotional break as well.  Most of us take our bodies for granted, not realizing the miracles they are.  Honestly, we breathe in and out while our heart pumps blood through our veins without even thinking about it.  I thank my body for all it does for me.  I work it like I had not in a long time, and it supports me fully.  I feel every muscle engaging powerfully to get me to great heights.  Heights where few, perhaps little, have gone before. The top of the canyon brings a magnificent waterfall. We have arrived!  We find a few spots of shade carved out of the stone walls and marvel at the dragonflies sailing through the air; along with giant yellow butterflies wistfully floating through the red canyon.   I realize some things along the way and want to share them with you.  I believe these epiphanies can be applied to our bodies, minds, and spirits in everyday life.

 Knowing our limitations

I realize when I climb up something arduous, at some point I must climb down.  I am aware that both going up and coming down take considerable skill and ability. I must hold focus and position myself strategically even upon the descent.   I have learned to say no when necessary to that one last thing I sense will put me over the edge.  I understand I may let someone down, or in my mind, they may think less of my ability; and I’ve learned to be ok with it.  I’ve learned to say, no thanks, I’m great right here.  I am the only one who knows what my current limitations are.  I am the only one who can make the wisest decisions for me.

Comfort zone…what comfort zone?

Every time we head out to visit my husband’s family in Southern Utah, I know at some point or several of them, I will be pushed past my comfort zone.  I’ve learned to expect this, and dare I say even welcome it.  I take a deep breath and cover my eyes as I say that.  I get nervous, sometimes anxious, before a big new outing.  I really have no idea what’s coming.  How much it will take of me, how much fear I will need to overcome.  I think of it like raising my standards.  As I change and grow, so do my standards.  Similar to the physical activities I complete and breakthroughs I experience, as my skill level rises, as does the difficulty of the excursion. I want to go further, I want to dig deeper, I want to break through my fear and be courageous about the steps I’m taking forward.  Fear can inform me, it doesn’t have to hold me back.

Mapping out your moves

If I’m not sure what to do next, I trace my husband’s movement.  I look at what rock he places his hand on when pulling himself up and how he positions his feet.  I mimic him to get me over a hurdle.  This outing, there was a section with an easier passage and a more difficult one that involved shimmying through.  I opted for shimmying this time around, as it seemed I could practice this new skill without much harm.  I was proud of myself.  I began real hiking as an adult, around age 36.  Even after 10 years, using my whole body to hike is still new to me.  I am always learning.  Modeling productive actions of others is paramount to our success.

Releasing energy

On this strenuous hike as well as a few before, I noticed myself overcome with emotions.  My eyes well up as I think about it.  Experiencing this type of adventure allows me to process my emotions in a healthy manner.  Similar to yogic and meditative breathing, when I am journeying, I am laser focused; working and breathing hard.  I believe this brings up emotions that may have been stuck in the body.  They come to the surface and spill out.  Rigorous hiking/exploration allows me to work through fear, old ways of being, and old situations I may have held onto inside.  It allows me to release old mindsets of limitation which no longer serve me.  This trip, I shared this cathartic process with our friend, telling him on a rest that I was overcome with emotions as tears quietly ran down my face.  As I reflect on those moments, I feel so fortunate to have an outlet that allows my emotions to literally run through me.  I’m clearing out for what’s next.

Join me for part two of this piece, as I cannot possibly share everything I processed on this single excursion from one post.  All I know is when I arrived home yesterday, I felt different.  I was flooded with joy.  I had an immense sense of gratitude for my life.  I felt alive!  I saw the ocean with different eyes yesterday, and I know that from this one experience, somehow, I am changed.