Menu
Dig in your heels
When I backpacked the Trans-Catalina trail this past spring, I had to really dig my heels in.
Maybe it was due to grit. Or maybe because the pads of my feet were literally blistering off.
Here’s what happened
I left my hiking boots on the boat ride over (my precious minimal Vivobarefoot boots, which were thankfully recovered after the trip).
My kind friend picked up a new pair of boots. Breaking in new shoes is one thing. Breaking them in during a challenging multi-day hike is quite another. I didn’t have much choice.
46.5 miles and rolls of moleskin later, I completed the trek. It was incredibly painful — and beautiful. Challenging and rewarding. My friends gave me moleskin before we stocked up in town. Fellow hikers sympathized — an older solo hiker called me a soldier.
The kindness embedded along the journey was a sort of balm to the sand embedding into my fresh flesh after I attempted to cool my feet in the ocean (BIG mistake — I had to pick each grain out from underneath my blister for days later).
Blisters covered the balls of my feet, popped up between toes, and tore away at my heels. Not to mention the toenails I bid farewell to the following days and weeks.
Good look, right?
Maybe not.
My typical adventure-translated-to-personal-life takeaway
I ultimately felt stronger after this trip. Sure, I’d rather have experienced it sans blisters, but that wasn’t how it went. So I limped away from the trail carrying a deep sense of accomplishment, badassery, and fortitude.
Moments like these take the cheesy out of “mind over matter” because I viscerally feel it. I completed the journey with my feet screaming from day one’s 17 miles, ~6,000 ft elevation gain, and ~4,000 ft loss. Overall, we trekked those 46.5 miles within 4 days.
I couldn’t walk when I got home. On the trail, my body was under the command of my mind, which told it to keep. trudging. on.
Lately, I tell myself that the reason I push myself physically is because that’s where I can — that where I’m resilient. Where I lack resilience is within the emotional realm, I tell myself. So I compensate by embracing physical discomfort.
What if that’s not true? Recently, my therapist told me I was brave during our last session together. That though there’s a’ways to go (with OCD — the work is incredibly difficult), to look at how far I’ve come. And I’ve covered a lot of ground (metaphorically and literally, ha).
I’ve sat with a lot of internal discomfort. And I’ll continue to.
Mind over matter, right? Keep. trudging. on.
Also, try not to forget your hiking boots.
-smb
SHARE THIS POST
Share on facebook
Share on twitter
Share on pinterest
Share on email
Share on facebook
More POSTS
