On the weekend I had the great opportunity to hike up a service road at Mont Ste Marie.
All in all nothing to think twice about right? Well not if you’d severed an achilles on the very same hill 6 months ago.
I left my partner saying: “I’ll be back in a half hour!”
The hike started in hot humid weather, summer has finally arrived in our neck of the woods. Nature provides a source of solace for me and I took lots of pictures of wild flowers along the way. I got caught up in the hike, feeling very grateful to be in the position to do so.
Soon the adventure became almost a spiritual pilgrimage of sorts. I thought I was headed to the scene of the accident but somehow got turned around. The place I was looking for happened to be at the very beginning of a run on the other hill.
Once I’d realized I was on a another, longer trail, I went a ways more and found a connecting trail to the run. I hiked up about 200 more meters in muddy terrain and thigh high grass and stopped, sweaty, hot and thirsty. I figured I wasn’t very far, however, for once common sense won out.
I didn’t need to revisit the scene of an accident that has changed my life in a significant way and whose lessons I am still discovering. The act of hiking itself, pushing past discomfort, reveling in my body’s strength and ability and my journey up the mountain so far had been more than worth my effort.
So I turned around and came back. I must admit I did try to run down, it’s usually easier but my achilles won’t allow me that movement very gracefully yet. A gentle reminder of the work I have yet to do on my path to recovery.