If you don't already know that I'm a bit of an atheist, well - I'm a bit of an atheist. I loosely follow the animism theory, that all things - from tomatoes to snakes to rocks to people - have souls and deserve the utmost respect. (Except ants. HATE. THOSE. ANTS. And maybe flying cockroaches.)
This weekend I found myself uncharacteristically praying on two separate occasions, for two very different reasons. In one situation, I'd hiked to the top of Smith Rock. Most of the way up was fine, but then I reached a point where I was hiking at what felt like a 65 degree angle, upward, for about 40 minutes. This plus hiking 12 miles in sand two days prior pretty much killed both of my Achilles tendons. (None of this really caught up to me until mid-day yesterday when it was too late - it still hurts to walk, but it was worth every minute, and yesterday at noon I got to do this for an hour:
... so there was that.)
Anyway, this part of the trek is called "Misery Ridge," and rightfully so. I am used to steep trails at high elevations, but the ones I'm used to have lots of trees and brush to cushion either side should an ankle twist or a rock trip you up. Misery Ridge eeks alongside the edge of the cliff with nothing between you and the ground ~800 feet below you, except nice hard dirt and a bumpy ride.
I have no fear of heights. However, I have a definite fear of falling. I think this is a healthy fear, but it does put a mental strain on hikes like this. The views were breathtaking:
And in the end it was easy enough to lean forward and left into the cliff, and I made it to the top with minimal stress and lots of great photos.
Only to realize that now, I had to get down. Shit.
The down trail also eeks alongside the edge of the cliff with nothing between you and the ground ~800 feet below you, only this is a much steeper fall. Going down, leaning back would likely cause the rocks under your feet to scatter, leaving you scrambling. But you do have the luxury of stairs on the loose, sandy, rocky trail:
... which actually made it even more mentally challenging. When I reached this staircase (about 1/3 of the way down) I stopped and prayed. It was more a cheerleader prayer - "if I make it down this cliff, I can do anything! I can do this!", repeat ad nauseum, but there was definitely some "please God" thrown in there for good measure.
As I knew I would, I made it down without even a slip. And I immediately made a mental note to interrogate my friend about this alleged July 4th weekend Mt. Adams climb and what I should mentally prepare for. Never mind physicalities - with a little preparation, I can get through those just fine. But what will mentally stop me in my tracks, what will be my wall on that climb? During marathon training and the actual run, it was always mile 16. On Mt. Adams, will it be the ice? The false summits? The 5,500th foot of elevation?
The other time I prayed was at the sports bar downtown on Saturday night. I just wanted to watch some hockey. I chose a spot at the bar away from everyone else, right in front of the TV, and fixed my eyes on the game, only speaking to the bartender when he asked if I wanted another beer or some food. Before I knew it, two drunken yahoos old enough to be (at least) my dad were bothering me, asking me every question under the sun, when it was clear that a) I wasn't interested in talking to them, b) I was just there to watch the game, c) I was not really interested in taking down your number so that we could have a drink "again" tomorrow and d) NO I WILL NOT DO A SHOT WITH YOU now go put the convertible top up on your car so your three dogs sitting there waiting for you don't get struck by lightening in this sudden thunderstorm you drunk asshat moron!
I love overtime. It's fun, it gets the adrenaline rushing, it brings out some good fights. However. In that situation, I prayed like hell for no overtime. And my prayer was answered, in a 6-2 smashing victory. So thank you, whoever pulled that one off. (Ahem, Fleury, ahem.)
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