Wednesday, November 7, 2018

Namaste Nepal

I do have a blog dedicated to travel but I felt compelled to share this on here. Is that okay with you?

Last week this time of the week, I was wandering the streets of Kathmandu with my partner. We were there for a week and it was an enlightening time. I'm not saying it was as profound as Elizabeth Gilbert described her Eat Pray Love experience that took the women of America by storm. I'm saying it has at least imprinted on me like Jacob did on Renesmee.

Okay, enough of the pop culture references and on with the trip. Well, I learned more about what was going on in my head without realizing it. We had an almost 4 hour hike from Nagarkot to Bhaktapur. It was only my guide, my partner and I on the walk. We went downhill, we went uphill. I had no support in my shoes because I couldn't find my insoles. I could feel every rock and change in surface under my feet. To say it was horrible, I think it may be an understatement. Although in the moment, I just knew I would pay for it later.



But that wasn't the part that made me cry a little. It was me. Me walking and thinking. Me thinking so much that my legs shaking went from, "Hey I need to rest" to "Oh my God the two most important women in my life almost DIED this year." Very intense, right? It sure felt intense because I fell so far behind I was able to tear up and tell myself I could finish this hike out loud and no one heard.

Let's back up though. Who was dying? Was I dying now? No, no one actually died this year (knock on whatever you like, perhaps wood). But there were so many hospital visits this year. A part of me feels like it was to combat my fear. When my grandmother died 17 years ago, we rushed to the hospital and she was already dead. That stayed with me for a while. Or maybe I was just being dramatic. Who knows? But I do know that this year I spent most of my summer visiting the hospital and rehab center, and during that time I was okay. I was confident and ready to take on whatever happened.

On my hike in Nepal, I think I realized that wasn't completely true. "I feel like my body has betrayed me." That is what kept going through my head. That's what both women have said without the other knowing. "I feel like my body has betrayed me." The reason they said that was because their bodies weren't functioning the same as it used to. They used to run cross country or at least walk to the nearby train station. But their bodies weren't allowing them to do that anymore. Just like my body wasn't letting push it harder to finish this hike. I cried, "I feel betrayed by my body."

Of course other thoughts went through my head. "What if I push myself too hard and I fall or pass out?" I really didn't need that to happen at that altitude. I needed to finish the hike. "Don't worry about them, focus on what you're doing." I remembered saying. "But if I move quicker, I can sit down faster." She'd say. And I laughed at the memory because when she would say things like that, things like her falling to the pavement on a summer day is the next visual. Not her sitting down. Because the truth is, if you push yourself too hard, you won't complete it at all.
I slowed down
I made it to my seat at the end of that hike and it felt great. There was no need to push myself too hard because we actually made it to the end a little earlier than expected. Who knows what would've happened if I pushed myself harder than I did. I could've needed that helicopter ride to the hospital.

We could all apply this to something in our lives. So lets do so and finish the hike.