[Nevertheless] We Roam

I love hiking. I cannot accurately express in words how healing being in nature is for me.

I also cannot express how scary it is for me to take a simple hike.

I have mobility issues, so hike using crutches ... and wearing knee braces... and praying a hip or shoulder or other body part doesn't dislocate a mile or two into a hike. I have adrenal insufficiency, which means my body doesn't produce sufficient cortisol to do things like regulate my heart rate or respiration, so I take steroids to maintain cortisol levels. I take extra steroids in order to be able to go on a hike, but if I get overheated or push myself to hard, I could go into adrenal crisis. Nevertheless, I'm working through the fear.

So I find myself saying to my husband that we should go on a 3+ mile hike together - one of my favorites that we haven't done in too long. And that we should take this hike in 31 degree weather, because I want to do it now before I chicken out. 

On the drive to White Memorial Conservation Center in Litchfield, CT, my anxiety levels begin to climb. I question my sanity and my ability to actually pull this off. My husband is a calming influence, which helps a great deal. 

We set out on the hike - he carries a backpack with emergency supplies, snacks, and other necessities. I carry my water bottle, medical info, additional steroids, and salt ... just about all I can manage while crutching my way through the woods. 

We miss the turn to go to the Little Pond trail, and end up taking a longer way to get to it via the Pine Island trail. Our 3+ mile hike is now closer to 4 miles. I say brave things as I gulp down anxiety. 

We finally get to the Little Pond trail and my husband asks if I want to bear right or bear left on the trail that loops around the pond. He makes a comment about a bear in any direction being dangerous. I tell him we should bear left, as if the bear left, then we're safe. He sees the logic in my opinion, so we set out on the right path, bearing left around the pond. These silly conversations are one of my favorite things about being married to this man.

The trail around the pond is mostly boardwalks and bridges. Crutching on boardwalk isn't easy, and some places are too narrow to safely crutch, so I use a single crutch or none at all. As we're walking and talking, thoughts run amok in my mind - if I have a crisis or dislocation on this boardwalk, how in the world would emergency services get me out of there? 

We talk about all sorts of things along the way. Sometimes we walk in comfortable silence, enjoying the sounds of nature. Often, we stop to take pictures of the beauty that surrounds us. 

It was a wonderful hike. The photos are beautiful. I'm sure on social media it looks impressive - a four mile hike, great views, quality time spent with my spouse. But the reality is that I was in pain the entire time. My right shoulder went out, making it painful to crutch. My right hip was giving me problems, and my left knee was feeling wonky. It's now the next day, and I've been up since shortly after 3am due to pain. My shoulders are tense and sore. The pain in my legs is horrendous. But it's all worth it. 

Hiking, with all the joy, beauty, and good memories made, isn't easy and I pay for it for days afterwards. Nevertheless, we roam. My husband understands the toll it takes on my body and is helpful and supportive as I recover, and I've come to accept the price for living the best days of my life.