Lying on the ground I looked up at the mountain not too far in the distance, and all I could think is, I’d hike that. But, first, get this eight hundred pound motorcycle off my leg. The pain was intense, but the fear of never again doing what I love was worse. I knew I was hurt, but at the time didn’t know how bad.

In the months to come I would discover I had a fracture in my back and a few other fancy named things that all just added up to constant pain, a variety of different treatments, and lots of trial and error. By year’s end I would end up having my back fused at L5 and S1. After a long recovery, I felt really good. Better than I had even before I had the motorcycle incident, better than I had for as long as I could remember.

I slowly built up my strength, made my way back out on the trails, and before long was conquering mountains I never knew existed. I made it to the top of some of the best peaks in Arizona, and eventually to our tallest hiking point, Humphrey’s Peak. Life was good.

I had a few injuries along the way, but nothing most hikers, or runners don’t deal with at some point. The last month though my neck and back began to hurt most days, especially after longer hikes.

Recently I switched from a trail running shoe to a low rise hiking boot. I was taking on more rugged trails and felt I needed the grip of a solid boot with a tough tread for scrambling, and rockier mountain trails. They were comfortable out of the box, but as soon as I completed the first hike my back and neck pain began. I decided to get rid of the shoes and try a different brand and style.

Before I traded in the shoes I thought perhaps the problem was that I had been using my bigger day pack for my recent adventures. Also, I had purchased a lens ball (for taking fun pictures) and I had added that weight to my pack, plus additional water because of the longer hikes. This pack had always been uncomfortable on my neck so I finally traded it in on a different model. I opted for the same brand with a different design. It had straps in different areas that felt would take the weight off my middle back. I purchased it.

I also got a new pair of hiking boots made by a different manufacturer, and highly recommended by the sales person at my local co-op. She actually talked me into them because I was seeking a lighter weight trail runner because that’s what I had previously used without any issues.

I put on my new hikers, loaded up my new day pack and took off to hike a new-to-me trail. It was a great hike, and I loved the challenge. But, those shoes didn’t feel right. They rocked forward and back and I felt a little off balance. The trail was technical in parts and after some time I convinced myself that I didn’t need to be so cautious, I could trust the tread to grip the surface. The tread was hooking up very well and I felt confident. I thought maybe I just needed to get used to them. The pack held all the water I needed, plus that crazy little lens ball.

Hike two with the new shoes was the next day. This was a familiar, easy to moderate trail. I used my lightweight hydration pack (a small amount of water, ID’s and keys) so my back wasn’t feeling the pressure as much on this hike. The shoes still felt bulky, heavy, and awkward. Someone on the trail even commented about my boots. “Great boots”, he said. “I’ve been wearing mine for many years and love them.” I looked down and we had identical boots. Well they must be good boots if he’s worn them a long time and loves them, I thought. They are a well-known and trusted brand. But, not all boots are meant for all people. That’s why there are so many different types.

The next day I was bending down to empty my dishwasher (it’s a dangerous job, but someone has to do it), and my back “went out”. No position was comfortable. I couldn’t stand, sit, walk, lie down. Now what?

I ended up in the emergency room because my back is fused and the doctor felt perhaps the hardware had broken. After ten hours in the emergency room, a bill for over ten thousand dollars (yikes!!), another visit and more x-rays at my surgeon’s office, it seems I strained it.

So I was instructed to lay low on hiking (the doctor’s words–whatever that means), and perhaps add some swimming to my routine then on to physical therapy. That should do the trick. This will be my first week with over forty miles on the trail again in a month. I am definitely slower, weaker, still in some pain (although greatly improved), and frustrated. 

There are two things I took away from this experience. First, I am now afraid. Afraid of moving the wrong way. Afraid of re-injuring my back. Afraid the pain will never go away. Afraid of using the dishwasher. Afraid I am going to have to give up hiking (the one thing that has changed my life, and given me new perspective). Afraid I am never going to be pain-free again. Afraid.

I am hoping time and successfully getting my strength back will resolve this. For now I am stuck in fear, and fear is a thief. Fear will steal you joy! Every day is an effort, a battle almost, to find a way to move around and be comfortable. It’s a balance between sitting, standing, lying down, and moving around. This somewhat inactive lifestyle is taking me back in years to a place and time where I did not feel much joy.

The second take-away is about balance, something I suck at. I realize I have put so much of my time and energy into hiking that I have neglected other parts of me. What I thought was self-care is turning out to be an all-consuming lifestyle that hasn’t left much time for anything else. The truth is even date nights with my husband are spent hiking. Last month I actually put on real pants, real shoes, and went on a real date that did not involve a dirt trail. I felt a little anxious about sitting in a movie theatre and not being more active. But a movie and dinner date turned out to be perfect.

Balance. It seems so hard to achieve with our busy lives, but can improve our overall well-being.

I have had so much time on my hands without hiking that I have been forcing myself to schedule things to do during the day. As a person who loves spontaneity, I find scheduling my day a little stressful, and completely annoying. But, I remember I am in a low spot in life and my own advice has always been to DO SOMETHING. It doesn’t have to be something grand, just a small step that is different from what one does every other day.

I have scheduled walking around my local mall into my routine. It’s not too active, but I am walking, moving around, and sitting for shorter periods than I would if I were home. Sitting is always one of the worst things with back pain. I’m working on scheduling in other activities that don’t include shopping malls.

I’m about an iota away from starting a meditation practice again (I was waiting until I could comfortably sit). I gave up meditation years ago and took my questions to the mountain, where nature is my answer to everything. It’s so easy to listen in the solitude of nature. For now, meditation, even for a few minutes, could only be a good thing.

I am also slowly adding hiking back into my (now scheduled) routine. I’m out there — on a path less traveled, mostly on flat ground with little elevation gain. I’m taking it easy, a little slower, a little less about pushing my limits, and once again seeing everything with a new perspective.

I’ve been noticing the awe, the wonder, the amazement, and the poetry of nature, and finding a new appreciation for Mother Earth and her healing powers. And, I’m finding time to be playful in nature, to slow down, smell the flowers, notice things I’ve missed, and breath it all in.

I’m heading out of the desert, to the high country in a few minutes, to hike a little and hang out with old trees, red rocks, dance in wide open spaces, and breathe in the scent of pine trees. Today, I will not let fear still my joy.

It’s all about perspective,
Pam