Last night, I probably shouldn’t have taken my camera with me (I’m learning very slowly, that the camera strap combined with my everyday t-shirt, is killing my nipples). I knew it was going to be a generic hike, for the sake of getting some sweat going, breath “breathing”, and mind clearing. I had no specific trail picked, no destination (night hikes aren’t generally for reaching a place, but for experiencing the different world that is night hiking), and just wanted to hike hard, and go far. I think I do a lot better job taking care of my mental health at night than I do during the day. At night, you can really get lost in the beam of your head lamp, there’s nothing to see along your periphery, and the sounds are amplified at night. Last night, was all about thinking, clearing my head, chewing myself out for overstepping my own personal boundaries (I’ve been working on talking to myself in a kinder way as well, did okay last night, still room to improve though), and to make sure I understood what I was willing to try for, vs what I had to let go. Either way, I had to get myself in the headspace to understand that either outcome was okay, and not to get upset about thoughts, that are not reality. If things turn out good, I will be a very proud, and happy man. If they don’t turn out well, I will take the experience, learn from it, and there will be no regrets to reconcile. If I at least try, then I have nothing to regret.
First off, yes, there was a missing person up on the trails above Ogden. I saw a LOT of headlamps round the mountain when I arrived, but I had no idea why there were so many. It wasn’t until I had hiked a good mile or two before I saw a guide post with a missing person’s poster on top. He was found a little bit before I got there I guess (From the images on ABC 4‘s web site, and details from Gephardt’s Website). I can see where I parked from some of the camera angles, and my Comet isn’t there, so I must have got there a little after the images (I got there just before sunset). Good they found him, I still wonder what you’d be up on Malan’s Peak w/out your phone, and wallet (at least ID – I leave my wallet, and keep my ID with me in a secure pocket). I can’t fault him for improper clothing, shit, I was hiking in a t-shirt, and shorts last night (it was about 48* when I set out). I used to not take water, now I take at least a big sport’s bottle with me (full of ice and water). My friend Mary gave me some tablets to add to water incase you’re dehydrated, I keep those in my bag, but haven’t used them yet.
So basically, I ended up not being able to get in the hard hike I felt I needed, and only covered about half as many miles as I was hoping to get (I really need to get hikes in over 6 miles to keep testing my Morton’s Neuroma so I can do some long hikes I’m jonesing to do). I’m tempted (often) to just pick a 8-10 mile loop, and go for it. Pain be damned, I’ll fucking pogo back on one leg if it gets that bad, but at least I’ll “KNOW” my limits. One HUGE thing I learned when I was stationed in Okinawa is that when you start feeling like you’ve given it 100% and you have nothing left; you are about half way done, keep going, your body will tell you when its done, not your mind. I’m hoping that works with the nerve in my foot too (som’bitch hurts at the most random, inopportune times, might as well be doing something I love when it decides to wake up and kick my ass).
Needless to say, I feel that I am very close to shutting down the dating apps. Hopefully for good, but you never really know. There are hurdles to overcome, and big challenges in the future that will require some work. I feel the patience inside me is substantial, the need to listen is stronger than ever, and the voice inside my head is speaking the same language as the heart inside my chest. It may be short lived, I could be back up and running on the apps again in days, weeks, or months, but I’ve done a lot of work, I feel like there’s strength where there was weakness, and if I don’t try, I will always ask myself why. Being scared is no longer an excuse I accept for myself.