In Better Shape Than I Thought (My Mother was proud of Me)

Last Sunday I woke up and decided that I needed a good walk to clear the brain from all those old messages I spoke of last posting. I decided to walk the Pevine/Iron King Trail that begins in Prescott and ends in Prescott Valley. A simple 7 mile walk!

We got to the parking lot, got our backpacks on, dogs on their leashes and about to start this wonderful trek, when we realized that neither of us had the $2.00 parking fee. I was extremely disappointed and frustrated that I had gotten up my hopes for nothing. We were on our way back to get the truck from the end of the trail, when Marty pulled over into the parking lot that overlooks Lake Watson. We had to walk an extra 1/2 mile back to the Pevine Trail and I was still pretty annoyed and concerned time wise about how long it would take for us to walk the trail. We needed to be back home in time for Marty to get ready to work a night shift with the ambulance.

We began our walk at Watson Lake at 1 p.m. When we got to the Pevine Trail, there was this beautiful copper colored shaggy dog being walked by a volunteer for the Humane Society, and I stopped to pet her, and as I did all the stress and annoyance left me. I was grateful for that small yet much needed 'pet therapy' from Miss Copper. Now I could enjoy being on the Pevine Trail with our wonderful dogs.

The Pevine Trail is so beautiful with all the granite rocks surrounding the trail. Watson Lake is such a relaxing lake to view, as the calmness of the waters begin to be reflected in one's own soul, there is a peace that prevails for the rest of the walk.

There were lots of people on the Pevine Trail, some with their own dogs, others riding bicycles, and others walking in preparation for different charity walks to raise money. The weather was absolutely the best for walking at a brisk pace.

We stopped every hour to take a 15 minute break, eat some snacks and water the dogs. Our dogs are just the very best on trails. They have been hiking with us since they came to be part of the family, and are used to being off their leashes, and are still very well behaved and only travel so far up ahead of us, then they will wait for us to catch up. We kept them on their leashes for most of the Pevine Trail, but when we reached the split where the Iron King Trail heads toward Prescott Valley, there were only a few people walking, so they were off their leashes a lot of the time. They ignore other dogs and know that their job is to enjoy their own walk and not pay attention to other walkers or bicyclists. Unless the people actually begin to talk to our dogs, Jake and Ebony mind their own business. They didn't even pay any attention to the cows that we passed along the way. I love our dogs!

When we reached the 3 mile marker on the Iron King Trail, it meant that we had 3 miles to go to the truck, and I have to admit that after walking the 4.5 miles to get to this point I was still very excited and pumped. We were making great time, and I felt great, other than I felt a small blister on the pad of my right big toe forming. I was so amazed at my body's reaction to this walk. Not one time did I get short of breath, my heart never raced, and my legs didn't hurt. How could this be after all this time of inactivity after the stroke, and being on the meds to prevent migraines. Getting off the Propranolol was the best thing I ever did. My body was responding with more energy and less migraines than when I was on all that stuff!

So we continued on as the trail twisted and turned through the rocks going around Glassford Hill, and finally hitting the last two miles of trail which were very dull and boring to me. I liken it to the long drive from Kingman to Las Vegas, where you can see the highway spread out miles in front of you and there is nothing to look at but the barren land around you.

There was in the distance a gorgeous view of the San Francisco Peaks up in Flagstaff. They are beautifully snow covered, and I wondered when Marty and Sarah were going to plan their skiing day and my snowshoeing day.  Left with not much of what I call beauty surrounding me, my mind went to thinking about how I wasn't satisfied with just walking a mile to start out with. I went for the longest trail I knew, without a lot of elevation changes. That is pretty much how I respond to challenges in my life. Go for the hardest, highest, in order to prove to myself that I can do it.

I remembered that when I took homemaking in Junior High school, we were required to make a full dinner at home. Now I had been cooking since I was in grade school. I had just about worn out the pages of my two cookbooks for children by Betty Crocker. So when faced with making a full 7 course dinner, setting the table with formal elegance in mind, I decided that for dessert I wanted to make something extra ordinary. I made Baked Alaska, complete with serving it at table side flaming with fire from the brandy poured over it.
My Mom and Dad were very impressed!

Then there was the time I was in homemaking again, this time in high school, and we were required to sew something for our final grade. Most of the girls in the class made simple skirts or dresses, but not me. I chose a pant suit so popular in the ate 60's, with a lined jacket to boot. My teacher wrote a note home to my Mom about what an excellent job I had done, and said that I could have chosen a much less complicated project. Mom wrote her back, telling her that I never went for the simple way, I always chose the hardest things to accomplish, and she was very proud of me. SHE WAS PROUD OF ME.

Wow! What a memory to come forth on this last mile of the trip. Even though at every turn in my home growing up, I did not manage to measure up to Mom's standards very often, she did on occasion express that she was proud of me. I wonder now, if her constant raising of the bar for my performance wasn't her way to ensure that I would become strong enough to reach for my own goals and passions of my heart. I guess it did instill in me a core strength that would come to surface many years later when I needed it the most.

I began to think of other things I have accomplished that showed my determination to tackle the hardest of adventures. I did not drop out of high school when I was pregnant with Shan, I graduated with my own class.

I recovered from a tragic car wreck which left me literally without teeth for 6 months when I was 19, and I had to use a walker to walk again, in such pain that my doctor wanted to put me back in the hospital, but I wouldn't let him because I needed to take care of Shan.

In my mid 20's I decided that I wanted to climb the highest mountain in Colorado. Mt. Elbert was climbed! And not on any trail leading to the top...we just started climbing from our campsite, and made it all the way to the top, where we could look out on the valley below, our blue station wagon just a tiny speck of blue on the valley floor. What a great adventure to add to my 'bucket list', and yes, even back then I had a list of things I wanted to accomplish before I died.

I guess the hardest and longest adventure I embarked on was the one of going through years of therapy to get myself healthy enough to get out of a dysfunctional marriage, to get my youngest two children away from the situation, and to go on to give them a stable, loving home in which to grow up in. Is therapy hard work? Yes it is....VERY hard. But I did it. I got out. I became a paramedic. I got the kids out. I faced a mountain of remorse and guilt, BUT I finally forgave myself for staying in the unhealthy relationship for 16 years.

I gave myself permission to find love again. But that is a story for another time.

I went back to college to Seminary and became a Minister of Peace, and with it set my sights on being a Hospice Spiritual Counselor. Which was accomplished and I had the honor of being with hundreds of precious souls as they passed from this life into eternity. I am the Peace I want to see in the world.

I set my sights on getting well from my stroke, and I have done that. My brain may be a little slow in some areas, and there are days when thoughts just fall into the white spaces of my brain, but I am back. I chose to get off all the preventative meds and determined that the Reiki work I do would work on my brain, and it has. Charlotte is back, energy and all.

So it was no surprise to Marty when I awoke on Sunday morning and told him we were walking the 7 miles. He is used to me pressing on the upward way, new heights to gain every day. Now I will admit that the last mile of the walk was not very pleasant, my legs were hurting a little and I thought for sure that the next day I was gonna be in tremendous pain. But I wasn't. My calves were a little sore, but not even the blister hurt. My conclusion from this adventure was...I am not in as bad of shape as I thought.
Seven and a half miles of encouragement to keep on keeping on.

We made it to the truck in 3 1/2 hours